let Kiwwledcje cjrouu from more to more." —Tennyson.

R A^f%^

^^^ . SEP ^' ly-

d:

'^y-Tv nF TO^^^^;^

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

JLLUSTRATED MAGAZINE^
lENCEiITERATUllE,& AR^

LONDON: NOVEMBER 1, 1887.

THE STREAM OF LIFE.

OMONG the results of modern, nay, of quite
recent, scientific research, I know none
more impressive than the recognition of the
stream of life, animal and vegetable, which
has flowed over the earth during millions
of past years. Starting we know not how,
coming we know not whence, the stream of
life has left traces of its existence in all the rock strata of
the earth from the palseozoic onward through the secondary
and tertiary .systems, onward to the pleistocene and to those
strata which are called recent, though some of them,
measuring their duration as men measure time in consider-
ing the progress of i-aces and of nations, seem of vast
antiquity.

Let us consider how the history runs, not entering into
details, but taking such a survey as shall bring the broad
features of the scene before us, and show its cosmical rather
than its merely terrestrial aspect.

How first the earth's crust was formed we know not, for
the traces of the first formative processes have long since been
swept away. Probably each portion was formed again and
again, .solidifying and melting, and resolidifying and re-
melting, many times over before it finally assumed the
solid condition. In some cases the solid part of the crust,
being of greater specific gravity than the molten, would
sink as fast as formed, to melt again, and again return to
the surface, not finally solidifying in a permanent way until
many hundreds of thousands, perhaps million.s, of years
had passed.

Whether any part of the present crust of the earth can
be regarded as representing the solid crust fashioned when
first these alternations were completed may well be doubted.
The so- called Archaean rocks have been supposed by some
to be the primeval crust of the planet. But others regard
them as belonging to a much later stage. And others yet
admit that we cannot tell what interval separated the
formation of these, the most ancient rocks of the present
earth, from the first formation of a ci'ust upon that region
of the eartii where the Archfean rocks are found? But
this, at any late, is certain : Whenever the Archaean
rocks, which have been exposed in various parts of the
earth by long continued processes of denudation, were
actually formed, they have mostly (if not all) undergone
great changes during the time that they have been buried
beneath strata formed later. Moreover, it must be remem-
bered that the lower primary rocks which were originally
deposited on these Archsean rocks were formed from them
by processes ot denudation, and that, therefore, we cannot
expect to find anywhere the ancient face of the first-formed
cru.st. Indeed, denudation in those remote times, certainly
20,000,000, and probably 100,100,000 years ago, was 'a
very much more active process than denudation as it takes

place now. For the waters of the ocean were greater by
one-half in quantity, were intensely hot, were loaded with
destructive acids, were more actively moved ; while the
air was not the pure life-nourishing air we breathe now,
but an atmo.-^phere whose breath was fire, laden with
destructive vapours, swept by tremendous storms, and
beai-ing clouds fiom whose bosom descended torrents of hot
water, mixed with sulphuric acid, boracic acid, and other
powerfully acting liquids. By these destructive agencies
the first formed crust of the earth must have been rapidly
denuded, and fresh layers formed at the lower levels, to be
raised while the higher levels were dspi'essed, fresh denuda-
tion following, and fresh layers being formed, probably
during millions of years, before life was possible upon the
earth.

It appears to me, indeed, that in the existence of fossil
traces of life, animal and vegetable, in the lowest of the
palseozoic rocks, we have decisive evidence that immense
periods of time must have separated the formation of the
rocks next below them from the first formation of the
earth's solid crust. For it is certain that during millions
of years following the .solidification of the earth's crust, life
must have been impossible. Even apart, therefore, from
the decision of the much-vexed question whether the forma-
tion named Eozoon found in the Archa?an limestones of
Canada is to be regarded as the fossil evidence of a reef-
building animal (a Foraminifer), which would throw back
still farther the time of the first .solidification of the crust,
we may safely conclude that the Archaean rocks represent
formations which had no existence with their present
structure until millions of years after the earth first had a
solid surface.

With our present ideas respecting the laws of biological
evolution (ideas based, be it rememljered, on observed facts)
we may deduce the same conclusion from the character of
the fossils found in the lowest of the primary or palaeozoic
rocks. We know that whatever may have been the actual
beginnings of animal and vegetable life on the earth, the
flora and fauna even of the lowest palfeozoic strata cannot
have come into existence save as the product of immense
periods of past time. In the Lower Silurian rocks, indeed,
we have but few fossil traces of the vegetation of the
remote time when they were formed ; but this is chiefly
due to the fact that the Lower Silurian rocks are chiefly of
marine formation. But the animal life, even of the oldest
.stratified rocks, suffices to decide the question of duration
in the most emphatic manner. Of course, the record is
incomplete ; but in its very incompleteness it is the more
decisive. We find complex and advanced forms, while the
simpler forms, which necessarily existed at the same time,
have left no trace of their existence. We can under.stand,
then, how all forms of life, simple and complex, animal and
vegetable, belonging to earlier strata, have disappeared,
leaving no fossil evidence. And the positive evidence
given by the fossils we do find, while thus giving to the
negative evidence its true meaning, has its own definite
and unmistakable value.

If we consider, for example, but a single class — say the
Trilobites (now extinct, though transiently represented in
the Ciirly life stages of the King Crab) — we have as decisive
evidence of enoi'mous preceding time-intervals as if we had
fossils of 10,000 species of Silurian life, animal and vege-
table. Those strange crustaceans existed at the remotest
time to which geological history looks back, in many
diflerent forms. Each had a strong head-shield to protect
its head, a smaller tail-shield, and a ringed body which
could be so curled that the two shields came together, and
the whole body was protected. Some were nearly two feet
in length (possibly some were much larger, but I speak

♦ KNOWTLKDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

only of existent fossil evidence), and from this size they
ranged down to minute forms, such as the Agnosfus
Princi'ps, which was less than half an inch long. The
number of rings also varied, the Agiwstus having but two,
the ilicrodiscus four, the Eri»ni/.9 no fewer tlian twenty-
four. Still more strikiug evidence of development, re-
quiring hundreds of thousands of years for its full work, is
found in the complex ej-es of the more advanced species of
trilobites, for while the Ai/nostus was blind, most of the
trilobites had eyes, some with fourteen facets, others with
as man}' as 1.5,000 ! All thi-ough the Silurian period these
crustaceans continued to thrive and multiply and develop
into varied forms. But as the millions of years represented
by the palaeozoic strata passed on, evolution in the race of
trilobites resulted in the development of other races better
fitted for the changed conditions of life ; we find no traces
of any trilobites later than the carboniferous age; and in
that age we find only four, all of which were small. Doubt-
less many others existed of which no fossil traces have been
left. Doubtless, also, triloliites continued to much later
times than the fossil evidence attests.

We cannot trace the series of crustacean i-aces which
connect the trilobites with their descendants in secondary,
tertiary, and recent ages. We cannot even tell what
creatures have descended from the trilobites, excepting here
and there a race or so, or along what line the descent
travelled. We know only that those races which retained
their triloliitic characteristics died out, those only survivinj.
■which adapted themselves by changes of structure to sur-
rovinding conditions.

But the Silurian rocks (the lowest and most ancient of all
rocks known to have been life-bearing) were not without
vegetable life, and the fossils telling us of the existence of
vegetable life show also that immense periods of life must
already have pissed before that life began. In the Upper
Silurian strata we recognise the spores and stems of flower-
less plants (cri/p/ogams). Club mosses and ferns were par-
ticularly conspicuous in the flora of those palfeozoic times.
"We can dimly picture the Silurian land," says Geikie,
" with its waving thickets of fern, above which lycopod
trees raised their fluted and starred stems, threw out their
scaly, moss-like bi'anches, and shed tlieir spiky cones." But
it is only because the cones and spore cases of the club
mosses and the tough tissues of the fei-ns have been well
fitted to withstand destructive agencies, and so have remained
in fossil form (some few even of these), that we are able to
speak of these as forming characteristic features of the old
Silurian thickets. Doubtless man}- other forms of vegetable
life existed, whose traces have long since entirely disappeared.
The wonder is, considering the immense remoteness of
Silurian time, that any trace whatsoever, either of animal or
vegetable life, should have reiched our time.

^lost strange is it to think that even of the denizens of
those ancient thickets some traces have been found. Be
mains of scorpions were discovered in the Silurian locks of
Sweden, Scotland, and the United States almost simul-
taneously in 1884; while in those of France, also in 1884,
the remains of an ancient cockroach were found. Where
scorpions and cockroaches abounded, not only must there
have been many other forms of land animals, but animal life
must have exi.sted on land during hundreds of thousands of
years. For the laws of biological evolution do not permit
us to believe in the development of living creatures so com-
plicated in structure as the Arachmdcp and the Jllnffiihc,
save in vast periods of time.

In these early stages of paljeozoic time we find evidence
not only of multitudinous life, but of many forms of life.
StUl within the Silurian era we find vertebrate forms in
fishes akin to the modern sharks, the sturgeon, and the gar-

pike. (Tie catfish shares with the cockroach the honour of
descent from Silurian times.) Onward through Devonian
time vertebrate life presents itself still only among fishes,
but now in ever increasing variety and numbsrs. New
forms of crustaceans — the Eurypterids — having affinities
also with the Arachnids? (scorpions), began to replace the
trilobites, from which probably they had descended, though
after transformations requiring vast periods of time.

Many other forms of life existed also throughout the
Devonian period, while an abundant vegetation spread over
the land, traces of no fewer than a hundred diflerent species
of plants having been discovered in the Old Bed Sandstone.
True conifers now began to appear, or at least fossil races of
such trees are for the first time recognissd in Devonian
rocks.

The forests must have been uniformly green, for millions
of years were to pass before deciduous trees were to appear.
Many forms of insect life existed in those overgreen forests ;
fossil wings of insects have been found which seem even to
indicate by their size an exceptional wealth of insect life ;
for races attain large size only under favour.ible conditions.
Thus among several forms of May Fly we find one whose
wings must have had a spread of fully five inches ! Strange,
be it noted in passing, to find traces thus ancient certainly
not less than 20,000,000 of years old, of a creature whose
very name— the ^y)/(p»iwo>i natui-alists call it — means the
creature of an hour, so short is its actual life, so slight its
seeming hold upon existence.

But now for the purpose of the sketch here planned we
need no longer consider the details of the progress and
development of life. We have thus far considered these
because they serve to show how far back, lieyoud the time
even when the oldest rocks were forming, we must throw
the beginning of life upon our earth. But so soon as we
have recognised this, so soon as we have understood that
periods to be measured by hundreds of thousand.?, if not by
millions of years, must have passed while the fauna and
flora of even the Silurian rocks were being developed, we
can pass onwards over stage after stage of the earth's life,
noting how during every stage multitudinous forms of
animal and \-egetable life existed. Some forms were as yet
in the first stages of development, others fully formed,
others highly developed, and others already approaching
the time when, having outlasted their proper era, they were
about to disappear. In disappearing they left the field open
to kindred races not descended from them hut from the
same progenitors, having, however, been saved from
extinction by such changes as fitted them for their en-
vironment.

In this sense one may compare the various forms of life,
animal and vegetable, to the various individual representa-
tives of that form, among whom we recognise at one and
the same time the infant, the young, the middle-aged, the
old, and those nearing death. For species and genera as
well as iniUviduals have their inception, their growth, their
full vigour, theii' decay, and finally their death ; though
because the pei-iods of time necessary for the full develop-
ment and the eventual decay of a race are so long that the
lifetime of an individual (even of a longer-lasting type) is
usually but a second by comiiarison, we are apt to imagine
permanence where in reality there is only relatively long-
lasting development and dissolution.

It has been because of this that men have so long been
led to imagine that races of plants and animals can be
neither developed nor destroyed, that all races must have
had their beginning in a process of direct creation, and can
only have their ending through a proce.--"S of catastrophic
destruction. Even when geologists began to recognise the
enormous duration not only of the so-called primary,

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

secondary, aiul tertiary eras, but of the different systems
included in each, they still supposed that the fauna and
tioi-a of one era were destro_ved before another era began,
those of the new era being specially created.

At length, however, the great law of biological evolution
was discovered, which shows how genera, species, and
varieties undergo modifications fitting them for theii- sur-
roundings, modifications individually small but eventually
capable of changing [irlien necessari/'^ ) the whole character
of the plant or animal so developing — those races which do
not duly develop when change is required eventually dj'ing
out.

Then science began to see that neither creation nor catas-
trophe is required to explain the life-histoi'y of the earth.
Precisely as the geologist sees in processes such as are
taking place now the explanation of all those features of the
earth, ocean and continent, mountain range and river
channel, hills and valleys, ravines and chasms, which in old
times had been explained by processes of catastrophic in-
tensity of action, so now the biologist recognises in all the
forms of vegetable and animal life, infinitely varied though
they are, the product of processes of biological evolution
such as we can see in action at this present time, though
possibly in the lifetime of a man, or even of a race of men,
they may produce scarce discernible changes.

(To be continued.)

COLLISIONS AT SEA.

By Gilbert R. Faith.

ACTION OF THE RUDDER UPON STEAM AND SAILINO
VESSELS.
ANY years ago I had occasion to make a
voyage from Halifax, N.S., to Bermuda. The
vessel was the Cunarder Merlin, and her
commander the '' commodore " of the Ber-
muda, West Indian, and Newfoundland line.
We left the pier about midnight, and a
very dirty night it was. Something very
like a gale from E.N.E. was blowing, with
fitful storms of rain. We made a good stait, however, and
in an hoiu- and a half had steamed past Sambro' light, some
twelve or fourteen miles from Halifax, and the danjrerous
stony-hearted group " The Sisters," with whom mariners
care not to have even a bowing acquaintance (no pun
intended), wei'e holding their storm-revels not fiir way.
From the time of leaving the wharf I had remained in
shelter from the rain under the main companion, smoking
and enjoying the scene, if scene could be called what was
dimly visible on so dark a night. Suddenly a rush of feet
on deck, an excited outcry, and then a tremendous crash on
our .starboard side. Simultaneously an immense white
spectral object loomed high above us, and instantly vanished
astern into the darkness, while down upon the stout hatch-
way, the half dome beneath which I stood, rattled blocks
and broken rigging. It was the work of a moment to
jump on deck, and of little more to kick off my boots, for I
thought from the shock that we must founder, and was

*I emphasize this because some opponents of the doctrine of
evolution imagine they have fully met the arguments of the believers
in e\'olution, when they have shown that in some cases races have
remained unclianged for thousands of years. This may happen —
aye, and much longer periods of changelessness — where the con-
ditions have not changed. The Cattish has outlasted tens of thou-
sands of races wortliier, it might have seemed, of long continuance.

determined to make as good a fight of it as possible.
A glance round showed that the starboard bulwarks had
been swept away from aljout amidships, and with them
boats and a deckhou.se, while the starboard stays of the
smoke-stack had disappeared, and the main and mizzen
shrouds and backstays swung in against the masts. Some
minutes passed before I was able to get a word with one of
the junior oflicers, when I learnt that the ship had not sus-
tained any serious damage, and that the injuries she had
received were all above board. " What was it that struck
us?" I asked. He replied, "A large square rigged vessel;
she bore down straight upon us under as much sail as she
could carry; the beggar carried no lights; but just as we
struck, I saw a fellow jump into the bows with a lantern."
After I had with some difliculty recovered my discarded
boots in the darkness, I walked aft on to the quarter-deck
and found the captain near the wheel. "A pretty close
shave that, Captain S.," I said. " Yes," he answered quietly
and seriously, " hut if I Jmd followed the sailimj instruc-
tions ive should not he here now to talk about it." It was not
my province to ask him to explain, but I felt that at a
critical moment his thorough seamanship had inspired him
to do something which contravened oflicia] orders for such
emergencies, but had saved our fives. I have since been
enabled to form an opinion as to what the gallant little
captain did do, and proceed to relate another incident,
which will perhaps enable the reader, if interested, to do
so too.

Several years after the adventure narrated above I was
standing on the pier at Halifax seeing oft' some friends on
the Cunarder Alpha. As the steamer shot out into the
stream a friend who stood near me (a shipowner himself,
much interested in matters of navigation, and a keen

obiserver to boot) remarked, "G , what course will that

steamer take when her helm is put a-port?" I answered,
" Why, surely there can be no doubt about it : her heacl
will come round in the other direction." " No, it will not,"
he said. " Her course will be very soon changed to that
direction ; but you will find that it is the stern of the vessel
which will be deflected to the left, and not the bow which
moves round in the direction you suppose. Now take a
line along that ship to the white house on the opposite
shore, and note the movement." I did so ; and surrendered
my opinion at once, for he was right. The following
diagrams will illustrate my observation : — No. 1 is the fine

No. 1.

which I was confident the ship would follow ; No. 2 suggests
the deflection which I actually saw.

Now my preconceived idea of the movement of a vessel
when the helm is put up or down is, so far as my observa-
tion goes, the universal belief. If this is so, what a fruitful
.source of collisions 1 In the hope of eliciting a discussion
which may throw light upon this important matter and lead
to beneficial results, I have written the present article.

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887

Some ten years ago (if my memory serves) occurred the
disastious collision between the Grosser Kurfiirst and the
KiJnig Wilhelin. The focts of this catastrophe prove, as it
seems to me, the principle above stated, and the ignorance
of the commanding officers in regard to it. The two vessels
in question had in the course of manoeuvring got into dan-
gerous proximity while steaming parallel to each other, and
orders were given to sheer off and separate, the belief being
that, if one helm were put down and the other up, the
vessels would diverge in regular curves. What actually
occurred was that the sterns of the two vessels approached
each other until the collision occurred, which resulted in the
sinking of the weaker vessel, and the drowning of the
greater part of her crew. In the mquiry wliich was made
into the cause of this disaster the officers of both ships were
pronounced free of blame, and it was determined to institute
a course of experiments to ascertain how the vessels could
have come into contact while efforts were being made to
separate them. I have never heard what the result of
the experiments was, and do not think that it was pub-
lished.

To illustrate by a diagram. No. I represents the intended

No. 1.

No. 2.

course of the two ships when separating ; No. 2 represents
their actual course.

Not long after the preceding catastrophe occurred the
following collision, which must be well remembered. Two
Sound (Long Island Sound, U.S.A.) steamers of the same
line, the Stonwgton and Narragansett, were proceeding to
their destinations. They had been accustomed to pass each
other midway of the route for years, but on this occasion
they proved to be approaching each other too directly. The
rule of the road was followed on this occasion. Each vessel
obeyed the sailing instructions, as was afterwards admitted.
If these were adapted to such cases the vessels should have
cleared each other. But they were approaching head-on
with great speed ; there was not sufficient interval to allow
for the stern deflection, and they were brought into collision
with such violence that one sank with the loss of many
lives. The newspapers commented upon this collision as

inexplicable because the sunk steamer was struck upon the
reverse side to what would have been expected, which fact
is easily explained upon my hypothesis. It was, I believe,
by ordering the helms of the Merlin in a sense directly
opposed to the published instructions that Captain S. so
deflected the after part of his ship in the few moments
allowed to him as to receive a glancing instead of a direct
blow.

As a last illustration, I will instance the loss of the fine
steamer Oregon. The facts in this case are unfortunately
not very clearly known, but it is generally admitted that
she was sunk by a vessel apjiroaching her obliquely from
the port side, which in the fog had got too near to be avoided.
It seems to me possible that the collision was owing again
to the following of sailing directions, based upon ignorance
of the principle I am seeking to establish. Diagram No. 1

No. 1.

No. 2.

shows my idea of what actually happened. No. 2 what might
have happened if the instructions had been directly dis-
obeyed ; had the vessels then struck, it would have been a
glancing blow, which would not have seriously injured the
steamer.

It is to be hoped that a series of experiments as to the
amount of this deflection and its relation to the length,
draught, and speed of the vessel might result (if it is not
presumptuous in a landsman to say so) in a modification of
the sailing instructions for such critical cases as I have
above instanced, as may avert collisions arising from similar
causes in the future.

Since a conversation on this subject here incited by the
accounts of two quite recent collisions of English ironclads,
a friend informs me that he has observed a steamboat
leaving a wharf in Toronto Bay, which he carefully lined by
means of a stationary object on the island opposite. The
boat was steaming directly away from him at five or six
knots, when the helm was ported, and he saw that the
whole vessel was deflected to the left side of the line on
which she had been travelling, and that it was some seconds
after the helm had been ported before her bows crossed that
line. Thus : —

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

WATCHED BY THE DEAD.*

X an essay on "A Novelist's Favourite Theme," t
the present writer has shown that in all
Dickens's novels except "Oliver Twist" (''Pick-
wick " was not a novel), he presented the
jucture of a villain or a hypocrite, watched by
one whom he despised or regarded lis;;htly, b'lt
by whom be was eventually brought to justice.
We might even have included " Oliver Twist," if it be considered
how little either Sikes or Fagin suspect the watch by which
Nancy defeats the projects of the craftier villain and of his
dupe Monks. However, the theme is so repeatedly worked
into the plots of Dickens's chief works that it was hardly
necessary to note a slighter use of it such as this, except by
way of showing that the whole series of stories, long and
short, is thus accounted for. No one can doubt, we think,
after he has examined all the evidence collected in the
mentioned essay, that there was something enthralling for
Dickens in this thought of a steadfast watch by an unseen
or unnoted enemy, a constant danger lurking where no
danger at all was suspected.

It will have been noticed further, by those who followed
us through the survey of Dickens's works in search for this
theme, that repeated reference was made to the use of Dickens's
favourite idea in his last, but unfinished, work. There, it
seems to us, the theme was to have been introduced in its
most striking form, in that form which Dickens himself had
mentioned in '• Martin Chuzzlewit " as most terrible to
think of. Dickens had pictured in his latest completed
novel a man supposed to be murdered, but really alive, and
watching the ajssociates of the dead murderer of the man
mistaken for him ; and therein he had come very near to the
idea he had pictured as the most terrible of all forms of his
favourite theme. How he had enjoyed this embodiment of
his theme one sees in reading the scene where the inspector
proposes to arrest Harmon as an accessory in his own sup-
posed murder. Of all the strange experiences Mr. Inspector
had had, that he admits was the strangest. It had for him,
Dickens tells us, all the interest of a clever conundrum, the
answer to which he had been utterly unable to guess, and,
" giving it up," had been told. Here Dickens had come as
near as he had till then found it possible to come to the
supreme horror — that the dead should confront his mur-
derer— not onlv (as in " Our Mutual Friend ") some man
supposed to be murdered should confront the associates of
the supposeil murderer, nor even that a mau supposed to be
dead should confront a murderer, but that a man supposed
to be murdered should keep untiring watch upon the man
who supposed himself the murderer. Running through our
former essay will be found the idea that this supreme horror
was to have been wrought into the plot of Dickens's last
novel, and that there is sufficient evidence in the work even
in its incomplete state to show this.

We propose now, not to examine the story in detail in
regard to the mystery of Edwin Drood's fate, which would
occupy much more space than could here be sjiared, but to
touch on certain features of the story which have hitherto
been little noticed, if they have been noticed at all, and to
consider certain general principles in regard to the interpre-
tation of mysteries such as those involved in this fine un-
finished novel.

First, the author's idiosyncrasies must in all such cases be
considered very carefully. Some novelists like to disclose
the meaning of the events described earl}' in a story, so as

* This article, tinder the title " Aftermath," forms the last
chapter of a little book presently to be pabli.shed by Messrs. W. H.
Allen & Co., under the title " Watched by the Dead."

t Cornkill Magazine for March 1886.

to leave the reader in no manner of doubt as to the real
position of affairs. Thackeray had few secrets from his
readers ; and accordingly the story which he left unfinished
leaves no more doubt as to the ending than if it had been
completed and the reader had turned to the last chapter
before he had reached the end of the first volume. Dickens's
method was difierent. He always left his readers — even the
keenest — in doubt as to the actual interpretation of mys-
terious matters introduced early in the story, and as to the
precise way in which the story was to end. But he was
careful, nevertheless, to introduce a number of little details
which were afterwards found to have been significant even
on these points, and to have been quite clear for clear-
sighted readers on some matters which the duller readers
supposed to be mysterious. For instance, while I suppose
no one guesses up to the last chapter of " Little Dorrit " the
nature of the plot in which Eigaud-Blandois, Flintwinch,
and Mrs. Clennam were concerned, or the v.^ay in which the
story is to end, yet every one of any keenness knows that
the old house is to fall before the story ends. Dickens not
only made that clear, he meant to make it clear. By a
curious accident, the fall of a house excited a great deal of
attention a few days before the last section of " Little
Dorrit " appeared, and sevenxl newspaper critics asserted
that Dickens had cleverly availed himself of the interest in
that catastrophe to add an effective scene to his novel. He
pointed out, however, that he had been at the pains again
and again to describe the premonitions of the coming fate
of the old house. And every attentive reader had known
that the house was doomed.

We may faii-lv assume, then, that in like manner the de-
tails of "'The Mystery of Edwin Drood " were concealed; and
the actual end of the story was not revealed except to Miss
Hogarth, and in part to Mr. Forster, while, nevertheless,
the broader features of the mystery were not hidden from
the keener class of readers, whose enjoyment of the story
Dickens well knew would be enhanced by the i-ecognition of
the general character of the plot. Dickens did, indeed,
express to Miss Hogarth the fear that the Datchery
assumption had been so handled in the last chapter (written)
as to disclose too much ; but he could hardly have intended
it to disclose nothing. No one knew better than he the zest
with which those who really appreciated his work would enjoy
the humour and pathos of this assumption. He would not
have left his best readers to obtain this pleasure (the kind of
pleasure which is most noteworthy in the reading of all his
novels), from a second reading, after the plot was known, as
with the duller readers of his stories was commonly the case.
The keenest reader would have — or rather we must unfor-
tunately say, the keenest reader has — quite enough to
interest him in the way of unexplained mystery ; but the
general interpretation of the " Datchery assumption " cannot
be mistaken by any who have really studied Dickens's ways.

Albeit we may pause here for a moment to ask how far
any novel, turning chiefly on a great mystery, might have
been interpreted if the writer's pen had been dL'-.abled ere
yet the work was completed. We have already done this
"with one of Dickens's own works, and we may find another
example in " Our Mutual Friend." Does any one from the
beginning doubt that Julius Handford, .John Rokesmith,
and John Harmon are one and the same person ? Can any
one imagine that Dickens did not mean his readers to note
the confusion of Handford under the inspector's questioning,
and to see even at that early stage that the body found by
Gaffer Hexham is not really John Harmon's. But if that
point had been overlooked, a number of others would have
been decisive that the whole plot of the story was to turn
on the " Rokesmith assumption," and that John Rokesmith
was no other than John Harmon. Mrs. Boflin's sudden

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

feeling that the child she had loved had been near hei", she
knew not how ; Rokesniith's start when he heard the name
of the adopted child (his own name) ; his remarks about
John Harmon : these all obviously show who he is, and
Dickens meant them to be so understood. We have no
doubt he meant the identity of Datchery to be similarly
recognised by those who knew his method. (Of course, we
have verv decisive evidence in regard to " Our Mutual
Friend " that Dickens did not care to make any mystery of
the Ilokesmitli assumption ; for long before the end of the
story we find Rokesmith talking about the details of the
events which had attended his disappearance from among
living men. There is no reason to suppose that he intended
to be at all more eai-eful about the identity' of Datchery — a
little later on though, perhaps, than the story actually
reached.)

But it may be well to consider, in passing, two other stories,
each turning in marked degree on a mystery — viz. " By
Pi-oxy " and " The Moonstone." The former novel admirably
illustrates our subject. For although the plot is about as
unlike that of " Edwin Drood " as any plot could well be,
we have in " By Proxy " a man supposed to be dead, watch-
ing the man who is guilty of worse than murder — seeing
that he has withheld the price at which he had, as he believes,
bought his own life at the cost of a better one. Now in
" By Proxy " it is essential to the interest of the latter part
of the story that the reader shall not be able to conceive
how Conway can have been saved, while yet he shall feel
that Conway must be alive. Accordingly we have not the
slightest direct suggestion of Conway's escape from death,
except in the rush of a hasty messenger past the flying
wretch Conway had saved. Yet we know that somehow
Conway's escape has been achieved ; and at a stage of the
story corresponding to that which " The Mystery of
Edwin Drood " had reached when the pen fell from the
author's hand we have decisive evidence that Conway lives ;
nor does any one fail to understand the assumption by which
he is enabled to meet his daughter without announcing his
escape to the man for whom he has designed a fearful punish-
ment.

The mystery in " The Moonstone " is altogether different
in character, yet equally serves to illustrate our argument ;
because in " The Moonstone," as in " By Proxy," "Edwin
Drood," and " Our Slutual Friend," the chief interest of the
plot (we do not say of the novel as a whole, be it understood)
turns on the solution of the mystery. It is noteworthy that,
while in the other stories the reader is left in little doubt as to
the general solution of the mystery, though altogether
doubtful as to details, in " Edwin Drood " and " The
Moonstone " even the general meaning of the events de-
scribed in the earlier pages is left in doubt, at least for all
except the very keenest readers. There are touches in the
chapters of " Edwin Drood " preceding Edwin's disappear-
ance which show any one who understands Dickens's manner,
and has an ear for the music of his words, that Edwin
Drood is not actually to be killed, and that the Drood who
really is to be seen no more is the light-hearted whimsical
boy of the earlier pages. But that evidence was not for all
readers. It may even be doubted whether Dickens himself
knew how clearly he had disclosed Edwin's real fate fur
those who knew his voice, any more th:in many of us know
how full of meaning are certain tones of our voice for those
who know us well. Nor can one analyse the effect of such
tones in a written story any more than in the speaking
voice. In reading " Edwin Drood," we (who write these
lines) never felt any doubt from the first page to the last
that Drood was to be one of the living character's at the
close of the story. Yet we could not have given any definite
reason for the faith that was in us, until at least the scene

where Grewgims tells Jasper that Edwin and Rose had
cancelled their plighted troth. In " The Moonstone " no
one, we should imagine, has an}' idea as to the real solution,
numerous though the facts are which that solution, and that
alone, is to explain. There arises a vague suspicion, as we
read about Frank's smoking, his sleeplessness, the difference
with the doctor, and afterwards that Frank had slept well
on the night of the robbery, that these little details are
significant. I'osKihli/, if the story had been left unfinished,
the same kind of analysis which we have ourselves given to
" The Mystery of Edwin Drood " might have led to these
points being so carefully considered and put together as to
disclose the general nature of the interpretation of the
Moonstone mystery — so much, for instance, as flits, that
Frank had himself removed the diamond when under the
influence of opium, that somehow Ablewhite had got hold of
it, and that in some way unknown Miss Verinder was
certain Frank had taken it from her cabinet. This would
have explained the position of affairs at the close of the first
part of the story, and one can imagine no other explanation
consistent with our certainty that Frank has not wittingly
had any part in abstracting the diamond, that ]\liss Verinder
is quite incapable of the trick attributed to her by the
detective (really keen though he is shown to be), and that
Ablewhite has in some way got the diamond into his hands.
The details of the disappearance, however, and of course the
singularly effective clearing up of the mystery in this fine
story (in our opinion far the strongest of all Mr. Collins's
novels), could never have been guessed, no matter how close
an examination any reader might have given to the earlier
part of the story. Yet even these details are suggested
when as yet the end of the story is far off.
{To he continued.)

COAL.

By W. Mattieu Williams.

N my paper preceding this I described the
general nature and magnitude of the problem
of colliery ventilation. I will now endeavour
to render intelligible the methods of ventila-
tion that are actually adopted, omitting, for
reasons already stated, any account of air-
])unips, blowing machines, fans, and other
devices for mechanical ventilation, and confining myself to
the principle explained in my last, which in this country is
almost universally applied. This principle is simply the
setting of air in motion by its own gravitation by connecting
two columns of air of different weights in such wise that
the heavier shall descend and the lighter rise in nearly the
same manner as do unequally weighted scale- pans.

As it is easier to diminish the density of a given column
of air than to increase it, especially where fuel is abundant
and cheap, the work of differentiation is carried out by
operating on the upcast rather than the downcast shaft.
We have simply to raise the mean temperature of one shaft
above that of the other, and the required movement is
started. The air falls in the cooler and rises in the hotter,
forcing its way from the cooler to the hotter through such
intervening passages as may connect them. These two
shafts may be only a few yards distant from each other, and
yet the current of air may be so tortured that it shall travel
some miles in passing between.

The diagram shows how this is done. D represents, in
horizontal section, the downcast shaft, U the upcast shaft,
a, b, c, and d are passages or cross i-oads with doors. It is

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

evident that if the door at a is opened, the air will pass
directly by the course DreU, as it will take the shortest
course open to it. If a is closed and h open, its couree will
be D6U ; if a and h are closed, and c is open, the course
will be DcU ; if a. b, and c are closed, and <; open, the

course will be DdU ; if all the doors are closed, the air
must (neglecting the dotted line at present) take the long
journey DeJJ.

In practice, of course, the arrangements are much more
complex, but the principle is the same. It is easy to under-
stand that by skilful arrangements of this kind the air
may be made to take any longer or shorter course that may
be desired, according to the plan of the pit roads and
workings.

But supposing a thoroughfare is required, as continually
happens, through a passage that must be closed to divert
the ventilation — that coal has to be run through the pas-
sage a while the air current must pass through e, what
must be done 1 This problem is solved very simply. In-
stead of a single door as marked in the diagram, two doors
or " stoppings " are used at sufficient distance apart to allow
a tub or train of tubs to stand clear between them with
space to spare. The coal enters one door, this door is then
sluit, and it proceeds to the other.

So far I have only taken the case of continuous passages
or roads, but it commonly happens that a working while in
progress has no outlet at the working end — is a cul de sac.
If the extreme distance of this from the road is but moderate
and the coal is not exceptionally fiery, the current of air
crossing the mouth of the working produces a ^tir, which,
together with the natural diffusive action of gases, supplies
sufficient ventilation ; but when there is danger of accumu-
lation of fire-damp in the working, a brattice is u?ed, as
shown by the dotted line at / in the diagram. This
brattice, whiuh is simply a partition of wood or of " brattice
cloth," efl'ects a further diversion of the current, compelling
it to sweep round to the limit of the working at y and clear
out the dangerous gases that would otherwise accumulate
there until, with a limited supply of air, they formed an
explosive mixture. These brattice -walls are made by simply
erecting upright posts from floor to roof, and nailing the
brattice- boards and cloth to them, and carefully fitting to
roof and floor.

Much care, of course, is required in the working of the

doors in a large pit where they are numerous and complex.
A small amount of leakage from each would, of course,
retard or stop the current at the extreme limits of its
course.

The friction of a long journey effects considerable re-
tardation and practically limits the distance through which
the air may be forced to travel. Besides this there is
another limitation. As the ventilating current proceeds it
picks up the inflammable gas and the carbonic acid expired
by the miners. It may even render dangerous those parts
of the mine that would be otherwise safe by carrying gas
from dangerous localities. Therefore in extensive collieries
a system of splits is adopted.

This will be understood by again referring to the diagram,
where, instead of all the air making the long journey
DeU, it may be split into four independent currents, one
travelling by the course D&U, the second by DcU, the
third by Di/IT, and the fourth by DeU. But how can this
be done 1 It is simply a matter of balancing resistances.
Other conditions being equal, the resistance vai-ies with the
length of the journey ; therefore, if resistances be respectively
placed at b, c, and d, which shall be just equal to the addi-
tional resistance due to increased length of journey in
getting round by e, the current of air will divide itself
accordingly. This may be carried out by making a small
opening at b, a somewhat larger opening at c, and still
larger at d, while e remains fully open. In order that all
the air shall rush through the diminished opening at b, it
must do so at an increased velocity, and this involves in-
creased resistance, which varies directly with the length of
the journey and inversely with the sectional area of the
opening. This balancing of resistance requires skilful
management and the aid of regulators to vary the size
of the openings as required. In some of the great
collieries as much as 300,000 cubic feet of air is passed
per minute through all the complications of the roads and
workings.

As already stated, the power for setting all this air in
motion is obtained by heating the air of the upcast shaft.
Formerly a stack was built over the pit, and this was heated
by a furnace on the surflice. In small shafts a fire was
suspended in the shaft, but these are now superseded in large
workings by an underground furnace connected with the
shaft by an upsloping flue which discharges all the heated
products of combustion into the upcast shaft, which is thus
converted into a great chimney, the contents of which may
be heated to 80° or 100° above the air in the downcast
shaft; l-tO" to 160° being temperatures commonly obtained
in the upcast shaft.

The furnace used for heating is one with a large hearth
and thin fire, frequently fed with small coal ; the width of
the fire may be .5 to 10 feet, and the fire-bars as much as
6 feet long. Thus a large area of air is heated at once.

A few figures will show the power that may thus be
obtained in a deep mine such as that of Ashton Moss,
which has a depth of 2,850 feet. Let us suppo.«e the
diameter of the shafts to be 12 feet each ; their sectional
area will be about 113 square feet, and thus each will
contain 113 cubic feet of air for every foot of depth. A
cubic foot of air at 60° weighs 1-29 oz. avoirdupois; .-. 113
cubic feet weigh 92 lbs., and the total column of air at
60°= 2,850 X 9-2, which, in round numbers, amounts to
26,000 lbs. But in heating air from 60' to 150°, it expands
one-sixth of its bulk ; therefore the hot air in the upcast
shaft, in such a case, will weigh one-sixth less than the cool
in the downcast. This difference amounts to -l:,333 lbs.
Thus the vis a tergo, or force driving the air through
the roads and workings and up the upcast shaft, will,
in this case, exceed a pressure of 4,000 lbs. It would

8

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

exert tbat amount of pressure against any unyielding

resistance. , , <- • i

From this it will be understood bo«' a g.ile of wind may
be made to blow along the dark subterranean roads of a

deep coal-pit. I may add that the figures above rather
under-estimate the actual force, as I have taken the air at
surface density. It actually increases as we descend—
increasing, of course, all the quantities named.

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

Map IX.

by-Ric3i4 A.Proctor .

Tli* loi£ar seal* nudiaJly is itra/brnv

^naUr by ij!5*^ hulfymy to «A* •d^'*'
anA. &yfJ*V^ at thx, eAge .

e H IDS iM wo "oo BOO 'O"*

MAP 12

SmnJl areas art. qrt^itxr hy y6S*^haJf
^mytothe>edg»,a.id.hyyUt^ai. ths^

EcMWaliea-.Za^

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP XIII.— Foe OCTOBER, NOVEMBEB, and DECEMBER.

The Nighi Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46' to 24° S.)

AND THE

Southern Skies in England (Upper Half op Map only) at the following Times:

At 1 o'olook, morning, Nov. 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ Nov. 14.

„ Midnight, Nov. 22.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Nov. 30.

At 11 o'clock, night, Dec. 7.
„ 10.30 „ „ Dec. 15.

„ 10 „ „ Dec. 23.

„ 9.30 „ „ Dec. 30.

At 9 o'clock, night, Jan. 7.

„ 8.30 ,. „ Jan. 14.

„ 8 „ „ Jan. 22.

„ 7.30 „ „ Jun. 30.

First

Second . . . . ♦

Star MAGNiiiJDE.s.
Third .... *

Fourth . . . . -f

Fifth . . . . A

10

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

SELF-CHARTED STARS.

N considering such a cliart of stars as appeared
in the number of Knowledge for May 1886,
considerations of singular, one might almost say
quaint, significance are suggested to the mind.
Among all those discs representing stars, and
each telling the same wonderful and complex
story, no two represent the same time. The
story told by that star-chart is not simultaneous. It bears
the same relation to a record presenting matters as they
actually are at a given moment that a story told by a news-
paper bears to a chapter in ;i volume of history. When we
are looking at one star-disc, we contemplate the self told
record of a suu as that sun was many years ago ; when we
turn to another sbir-disc, we see a similar record, also
relating to a long past epoch, but not to the same epoch.
One of the star-discs, regarding it as in a sense a portrait of
a remote sun, may be hundreds of years older than another,
though both were taken at the same instant on the photo-
graphic plate. Pi-obably within the range of this one
picture, with its two thousand stars, we have records
extending over many hundreds of years. It is true that
the picture represents a rich region of the Milky Way,
and my own theory of the Milky Way, adopted and
supported by such independent thinkers as Herbert
Spencer * in England, and Oscar Peschule in Germany,
recognises the whole rich galactic mass like that seen
in Cygnus as in reality what it appears to be (that is,
as truly a stellar cloud, whose farthest portions are not
relatively much farther from us than the nearest). Yet
it can hardly be but that in the same field of view are seen
many stars which do not belong to that cloud, but shine
from beyond depths far more remote. Even as regards the
great star-cloud itself, moreover, we have a wide range of
time to deal with. Judging from the length and width of
the great clustering aggregation of the Milky Way in
Cygnus, from the heart of which the chart has been taken,
we may infer a depth corresponding to more than one-tenth
of the distance of the .star-cloud regarded as a whole.
Supposing this distance, then, to correspond to a light-
iourney of one hundred years — a very moderate assumption
when we remember that Sirius lies at a distance of about
twenty years' light-journey from us — we find that the
farthest stars of the cluster tell us their story ten years
after the nearest stars.

Thus the strange thought arises that while the chart
does not represent the actual state of the pictured stars at
the moment when the photograph was taken, it does not
even represent the state of those stars — either as to relative
position or relative lustre — at any epoch whatsoever. For
aught we can tell any star taken at random in the chait
may have been extinct many years before it painted its
record on the photogi-aphic plate ; or it may at the moment
when its light reached us have been in reality very much
brighter or very much fainter than its pictured record
would seem to show. Stars may in the meantime have
shone forth which are not shown in the chart, because the
extremities of the light-pencils by which alone their discs
could hi delineated had not reached within many thousands
of millions of miles of our solar system. Then, again, not
a single star in the whole chart is shown in its true

* As regards important portions of my theory of the universe I
was anticipated by Mr. Herbert Spencer — though I only learned
this long after I had advanced that theory. But I am speaking
above of the Milky Way regarded as a congeries of stars, iu which
aspect I believe I may say that I alone established those details in
which my theory differs from that of the Hersohels formerly
accepted.

position, and no two stars are shown in their proper rela-
tive position. For every star of the two thousand travel-
ling along through space must have some thwart motion,
greater or less (we may exclude as impossible the case of a
star moving e.ractli/ towards the solar system) ; and no two
stars can have exactly the same thwart motion.

Hence have we this strange result, that a photographic
record which the astronomer justly regards as a most
marvellously exact star-chart, far more exact than any such
record as the most skilful astronomers can obtain observa-
tionally, nevertheless neither represents what is now, or
what ever was — precisely as here shown — at any moment of
time.

MAGIC SQUARES.

By W. Holden-.

?s I have not been hitherto " A Constant
Reader of your valuable Periodical," I do
not know if you have dealt with the sub-
ject of " Magic Squares " or not ; but I
have thought that the enclosed would be
interesting to your readers. They appear
to me to be marvels of ingenuity. About
fifteen years ago the methods of construct-
ing these " Magic Squares," so called, was discussed in
" The Riddler " columns of the Addnkh Observer, of which
columns I have the editing. It appears that the rules for
constructing squares, of which the root is an odd number as
7 X 7, is very simple. Thus 1 have in my possession a
square il X 27, containing all the numbers from 1 to 27^,
and of course the sum of every horizontal, vertical, and

,. , r • 1- 27- -f 1
diagonal line is 2/ x -

= 9.855. But the method of

constrttctiug it is so simple that the figures may be written
down consecutively without the slightest hesitation. The
case, however, is very difierent when the root is an even
number, and especially so when it is the double of a prime
number as 14 x 14. But at the time to which I refer,
Mr. E. J. C'atlow, who was then engaged as a shepherd in
the interior of this " island continent," turned his attention
to the subject, and discovered the rules for constructing
.squares of every kind, no matter how large. He subse-
quently told me that if he had not turned his attention to
the subject, and to the German language, his occupation
was so monotonous, and the solitude so profound, that he
feared he would have gone insane.

Some time after his discovery of the rules referred to.
Ml-. Catlow wrote a paper describing thtm, and sent it to
Mr. C. Todd, C.M.G., our Postmaster-General and Govern-
ment Astronomer. The paper was read by Mr. Todd before
the Adelaide Philosophical Society, and he stated that in
all his mathematical studies he had never met with any
rules of the kind app'icable to all numbers.

Curiously enough, however, while Mr. Catlow was study-
ing the suViject in the far north, Mr. J. B. Bassett, a school-
master of Willunga, thirty miles south of Adelaide, was
doing the same thing, and the result was the discussion in
the Adelaide Observer as to priority of discovery, to which
I have referred.

Mr. Catlow and Mr. Bassett have both •' joined the
great majority," but among the papers of the latter was
the square of which No. 1 is a copy. You will observe

* Although iu the earlier volumes of Knowledge we had a great
number (some said too large a number) of magic squares, and
have in MS. snlutions of the still more complex pu;;zles presented
by magic cubes, we print Mr. Holden's paper unhesitatingly, as
presenting novel and interesting developments.

November 1, 1887.]

KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

11

that all the numbers from 1 to 32, and from 225 to 25G—
i.f., the sixteen lowest and the sixteen highest — fill the two
top and the two bottom horizontal lines, and that the order

No. 1. Compound Magic Square.

Constructed by the late Mr. J. B. Bassett, by rules of his own

invention. October 19, ISfiO.

2 '239

241 ' 32
34 207

242 31 1 4 237 j 244 ] 29 1 6 j 235 1 246 27 | 8 1 233 j 248
1 240 1 243 30 1 3 1 238 j 245 ' 28 ' 5 236 | 247 ' 26 | 7

26
234
03

100

1S4 169

89 ! 72

14S ml 150] 139

123 1 102 1 1251210

209 64

104

30 1 2U5 212 (Jl

153 , 122! 38 ; 203 214 59 1 135 1 33

208

47 1 194
224 49
CO 1 175

121
137

211 ' 62 35 (206
45 i 196 ' 221 1 52
222 1 61 j 46 ]l95

130
120
106

1031213
138 43

60 j 37 1 204 1 154 223
198 1 219 j 64 |ll9 48

50
193

152

161 1 220

53 44 197 1 106 178

96

177 96

109 73 [ 88 i 168 1 185 j 157

132 107 , 118 134' 155 116 65

176

79 1 1G3

147 170 1S3| 71 1 90 ' 99

120 149 [ 140 101 j 124 142 191

82

192 81

70 j 40 201 216 57

187 1 I65J 68 [ 173

180 93
67 , 174

92 80
166 146

161

[

127

98 ' 143

1881215 .58 , 39 ,202

69 91 1 1-9 [ 94

145 1 128

111 { 130

171 j 41 200 '217' 56
8s|218j 55 1 42 199

86 182 1 77 |1G4 189 j 84
172 1 76 |lS0| 83 [ 78 j 163

75 97
181 159

144

114

160' UsIldSI 87 1 74 llSGI 167 : nil 115 ' 108 117 ' 156 133 1 131 |ll2

129

15 ,226,853, 18 , 13 ,228 253 1 20 11 230] 251 22 , 9 232 1249
256 j 17 j 16 j 225 1 251 j 19 1 1* 227 252 | 21 1 12 229 ] 250 23 10

24 1
231

Sum of each vertical, horizontal, and diagonal column of the
largest square = 2,0o6 ; of the inner = 1,542; and of each of the
smallest = 514. Hence the relative value of the sum of each column
of the several squares is as 4 . 3 . 1.

of their succession is similar to the knights' leaps over the
che.ss-board. So far the rule is fairly sim|)le, but the
arrangement of all the intermediate numbers, so far as I
have examined the table, seems quite capricious. Yet it

No. 2 Compound Magic Squaue.
Constructed by Mr. W. F. Campion, by rules of his own invention

1887.

242 238J234|230| 1 5 D 13

IS 1 22

1

223 48

70 1 74

26

30 253 2491246

241

3 |213|20S
6 1 31 |l90
10 1 36 1 59
14 1 40 1 62
21 1 47 j 66

204 j 32 35 1 39 1 43
186 1 182 1 57 1 61 1 65

52 56 219
7S j 197 ' 193

215

189

212
220

254
251

169 j 164 1 SO j 83 1 87
70 |l54 j 150 1 97 1 101
84 1 Ml |ui , 112 115

175| 92
lOGJ 110
143 1 12"

96
157
1411

171
153

168
178

198
195

221
217

247
243

15S

173

191

210

236

25 1 51

73

91 |l02|lll jl36 125

131 122

146

155

166

184

206

232

29 1 55

77

98 1 109 1 119! 124 127

129 , 134

13S

148

162

ISO

202

228

255 j 224

199

17g|i69|u4|i21 130

128 136 113

98

81

68

33

2

250 j 220
2461216

104

188

172 1 152! 139 133 132

167 1 149! 117 145,143

1 1 1 1

126 123

114 1 137

,118

105

85

«3

37

7

116

108

90
04

69

41
46

11

17
20
24
28
IS

24o|211

1S5

16311114 ' 107! 100 156

151 !l47J 100 i 103

237 1 207

ISl

89 :I3 ,177 174 170 82 165 161 86 88

70

50
54

233 1 203

08 71 75 200 1 196 192 1S7 183 179 60 ' C4

67

229 1 45

49 1 53 225 222 2ls 214 ol H'li) 2U5 201 38 12

44

16 1 19 23 i 27 1 256 ' 252 248 244 239 236 | 231 227 , 4 8 12

Sum of each vertical, horizontal, and diagonal column of the
outer square, 2,056. By the successive removal of the margins the
sum of each horizontal, vertical, and diagonal column is reduced by
257. Hence the suras are respectively l,79',l, 1,512, 1,285, 1,028,
771, and 514.

must have been done upon some recognised system, or it
could not have been done at all.

I have iailed in my attempts to discover the rules for
the construction of No. 2. Mr. Campion is a storekeeper.
He was in Adelaide about a month ago, and he informed
me that he discovered at the beginning of the present year
the rules for constructing all such squares. In proof of this,
he has since then sent me a " Jubilee Magic Square,"
50 X 50. It covers a sheet of paper about four feet square,
and is perfect in every lespect. Thus the sum of each
column of the outer square is 62,525, with a constant
subtrahend of 2,501 on approaching the centre. The sub-
joined was published in " The Riddler " a few weeks ago : — -

Mr. W. F. Campion has furnished us with several more curious
magic squares, including the following : —

Chinese Magic Square, 9x9.

77

4

3

2

1

72

71

70

69

14

62

19

18

17

68

57

56

"68

16

27

61

30

29

48

47

66

67

16

28

36

44

37

42

46

54

66

9

23

33

39

41

43

49

S»

73

74

60

SO

40

46

38

32

22

8 1

75

61

36

62

63

34

31

21

7

76

26

63

64

66

2t

25

20

6

". 1

13

78

79

80

81

10

"

12 1 6

In this instance the sum of each vertical, horizontal, and diagonal
column of the ulterior square of 3x3 is 123; (hat of the ne.^t,
namely, 5 x 5, is 205 ; th.at of the ne.xt, namely, 7x7, 287 ; and tliat
of the outermost 369 ; thus the sum of every column is a multiple
of 41.

NOTE ON EUCLID (I. 32).

(Prop. 3, Bk. I.; Axio.m 12, Bk. I.; and Parallels).

\ COERESPONDENT asks whether Euclid
I. 32 cannot be proved by mechanical con-
.siderations independently of axiom 12.

It has always seemed to me that the pro-
position is self-evident, the mind at once
picturing some such angular measurement
as is .shown in fig. 1. The arrowed rod pq,
pivoting round A to position jiq, measures the angle A ;
then, pivoting round p, to position p'q', mea^-ures the angle n ;

Fig. 1.

and lastly, pivoting round c to position p'q', measures the
angle c. It has manifestly pivoted through two right

12

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

angles, lying now in the same direction as at first, with
changed ends. Hence the three angles, which are together
equal to the angle through which the rod has pivoted in all,
amount together to two right angles.

With regard to axiom 12, and the treatment of the whole
subject of parallelism and non-parallelism in Euclid, the
trouble seems to arise from two causes : First, the use of a
negative definition of parallel lines, instead of a positive
definition from which the negative property could be
deduced ; and secondly, from the wish to prove certain
matters really axiomatic — for instance, that opposite or
vertical angles are equal. The axiomatic ideas underlying
axiom 12, which .as presented in Euclid (with its converse,
Euc. I. 16, as a jyroposltion and in company with pro-
positiuns relating to parallels) is not axiomatic at all, may
be thus dealt with : —

If the straight lines ab, de, crossing in c, be supposed
shifted so that the point c falls at c. in ab, ab remaining
unchanged in position, and de falling into the position fgh,
FH can nowhere cut de. For any argument showing that
GF produced towards f would cut cd produced towards d.

would equally show that ce produced towards e would cut
GH produced towards h. And if both intersections occurred,
the two straight lines de and fh produced far enough would
enclose a space.

This, however, is not axiomatic, unless we take it for
granted that the angle fgb, which (we see from the way in
which it was obtained) is the same as the angle dcb, is
equal to cgii, which (for a like reason) is the same as the
angle ace ; for the obviousness of the argument depends
on the fact that we have the same arrangement precisely
when we look at the figure as it stands that we have
when we reverse it.

Now it is not one whit more obvious that two straight
lines will not enclose a space than it is that opposite angles
are equal, or that two straight lines ca7i in any way be so
drawn as never to meet.

After it is seen that fgh obtained by moving acd to
position agf will not cut dce, it ought to be equally obvious
that any straight line q/ througli a on the side of gf
towards d must cut CD, no matter how small the angle /gf
may be. For the point _/' Ls some distance from gf, and by
doubling of this distance will be doubled (this may be
proved by superposition), and the doubled distance will in
turn be doubled in the same way (by quadrupling g/'), and
so on as long as we please : hence we must at length by
successive doublings obtain a distance less than the dis-
tance of any point in ED from fh ; in other words, c./ pro-
duced far enough must pass to the side of ef remote from
FH — that is, G/'will eventually cut ED.

Or we may put the matter in the form of a general
axiom, — Through a given point (g), outside a given straight
line (dce), only one parallel can be drawn to that line.

These properties, whether presented as axioms or reasoned
out, serve all purposes. But in reality, if such matters are

to be reasoned out, then the statement that two straight
lines cannot enclose a space should be reasoned out too ;
and I do not envy any one vvho makes the attempt. In
fact, it leads directly to the discussion of non-Euclidean
geometry, a part — and a useless part — of Dream INIathe-
matics.

Of the following three propositions, winch, dealt with
as a subject for reasoning, would be the more difficult 1 —

First, Through a given poitit there cannot be drawn a
straight line in the same plane as another straight line,
irhich, being jn'odiioed sufficiently far both ways, shall meet
the latter straight line on both sides of the given point.

Secondly, Through a given point there can be drawn a
straight line in the same plane as another straight line,
which, however far it be produced cither icay, shall not meet
the latter straight line on either side of the given point.

Thirdly. Through a given point there can only be drawn
one straight line in the same plane as another straight line,
which, however far it be produced either >vay, shall not meet
the latter straight line on cither side of the given jyoint.

A FIVE-FOLD COMET.

HE figure illustrating this article is taken
from L'Astronornie, and represents the re-
markable Southern Comet of January last,
as drawn on successive days by Mr. Finlay,
of Cape Town.

The comet was first seen by a farmer and
a fisherman of Blauwberg, near Cape Town,
on the night of January 18-19. The same night it was
seen at the Cordoba Observatory by M. Thome. On the
next night Mr. Todd discovered it indejiendently at the
Adelaide Observatory, and watched it till the 27th. On
the 22nd Mr. Finlay detected the comet, and was able to
watch it till the 29th. At Rio de Janeiro M. Cruls
observed it from the 23rd to the 2.5th ; and at Windsor,
New South Wales, Mr. Tebbutt observed the comet on the
2sth and 30th. Moonlight interfered with further observa-
tions.

The comet's appearance was remarkable. Its tail, long
and straight, extended over an arc of 30 degrees, but there
was no appreciable condensation which could be called the
comet's head. The long train of light, described as nearly
equal in brightness to the Magellanic clouds, seemed to be
simply cut off at that end where in most comets a nucleus
and coma are shown.

This comet has helped to throw light on one of the most
perplexing of all the ])uzzles which those most perplexing
of all the heavenly bodies, comets, have presented to
astronomers.

In the year 1668^a comet was seen in the southern skies
which attracted very little notice at the time, and would
probably have been little thought of since had not attention
been directed to it by the appearance and behaviour of
certain comets seen during the last half-century. Visible
for about three weeks, and discovered after it had already
passed the point of its nearest approach to the sun, the
comet of 1068 was not ob.served so satisfactorily that its
orbit could be precisely determined. In fact, two entirely
different oibits would satisfy the observations fairly, though
one only could be regarded as satisfying them well.

This orbit, however, was so remarkable that astronomers
were led to prefer the other, less satisfacforj- though it was
in explaining the observed motions of the comet. For the
orbit which best explained the comet's movements carried
the comet so close to the sun as actually to graze his visible
surface.

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LKDGE ♦

13

Moreover there was this remarkable, and, indeed,
absolutely unique peculiarity about the orbit thus assigned :
the comet (whose period of revolution was to be measured
by hundreds of years) actually passed through the whole of
that part of its course during which it was north of our
earth's orbit plane in less than two hours and a half! though
this part of its course is a half-circuit around the sun, so
far as direction (not distance of travel) is concerned. That
comet, when at its nearest to the .sun, was travelling at the
rate of about 330 miles per second. It passed thi-ough
regions near the sun's surface commonly supposed to be
occupied liy atmosp'ieric tuattev.

calculate the return of comets.) The comet of 1680,
called Newton's, was the very first whose orbital motions
were dealt with on the principles of Newtonian astronomy,
and Halley's was the first whose periodic character was
recognised.

In 1843 another comet came up from the south, and
presently returned thither. It was, indeed, only seen
during its return, having, like the comet of l(i()8, bsen only
discovered a day or two after perihelion passage. Astro-
nomers soon began to notice a curious resemblance between
the orbits of the two comets. Remembering the compara-
tive roughness of the observations made in 1668, it may be

The CoDstellatiou?, thougU'uunamed, can readily be identified, when it is noted that the
Comet's course, as here presented, began in the constellation of the Crane.

Now, had the comet been so far checked in its swift rush
through tho.se regions as to lose one-thonsandth part of its
velocity, it would have returned in less than a year. But
the way in which the comet retreated showed that nothing
of this sort was to be expected. I am not aware, indeed,
that any anticipations were ever suggested in regard to the
return of the comet of 1668 to our neighbourhood. It was
not till the time of Halley's comet, 16S2, that modern
astronomy began to consider the question of the possiljly
periodic character of cometic motions with attention. (For
my own part, I reject as altogether improbable the state-
ment of Seneca that the ancient Chaldean astronomers could

said that the two comets moved in the same orbit, so far as
could be judged from observation. The comet of 1843 came
along a path inclined at apparently the same angle to the
earth's orbit-plane, crossed that plane ascendingly at appre-
ciably the same point, swept round in about two hours and
a half that part of its angular circuit which lay north of the
earth's orbit-plane, and crossing that plane descendingly at
the same point as the comet of 1668, passed along appre-
ciably the same course towards the southern stellar regions !
The close resemblance of two paths, each so strikingly
remarkable in itself, could not well be regarded as a mere
accidental coincidence.

14

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

However, at that time no very special attention was
directed to the resemblance between the paths of the comets
of 1843 and 1668. It was not regarded as anything very
new or striking that a comet should return after making a
wide excursion round the sun ; and those who noticed that
the two comets really had traversed appreciably the same
path around the immediate neighbourhood of the sun, simply
concluded that the comet of 1008 had come back in 1843,
after 175 years, and not necessarily for the first time.

It must be noticed, however, before leaving this part of
the record, that the comet of 1843 was suspected of be-
having in a rather strange way when near the sun. For
the tirst observation, made rather roughly, indeed, with a
sextant, by a man who had no idea of the interest his obser-
vation might afterwards have, could not be reconciled by
mathematicians (including the well-known mathematician,
Benjamin Pierce) with the movement of the comet as sub-
sequently observed. It seemed as though when in the sun's
neighbourhood the comet had undergone some disturbance,
possibly internal, which had in slight degree affected its
subsequent career.

According to some calculations the comet of 1843 seemed
to have a period of about thirty-five years, which accorded
well with the idea that it was the comet of 1068, returned
after five circuits. Nor was it deemed at all surprising that
the comet, conspicuous though it is, had not been detected in
1713, 1748, 1783, and 1818, for its path would carry it where
it would be very apt to escape notice except in the southern
hemisphere, and even there it might quite readily be missed.
The appearance of the comet of 1668 corre.-iponded well with
that of the comet of 1843. Each was remarkable for its
extremely long tail, and for the comparative insignificance
of its head. In the northern skies, indeed, the comet of
1843 showed a very straight tail, and it is usually depicted
in that way, whereas the comet of 1668 had a tail showing
curvature. But pictures of the comet of 1843, as seen in
the southern hemisphere, show it with a curved tail, and
also the tail appeared forked towards the end during that
part of the comet's career.

However, the best observations, and the calculations
based on them, seemed to show that the period of the comet
of 1843 could not be less than 500 years.

Astronomers were rather startled, therefore, when, in
1880, a comet appeared in the southern skies, which
traversed appreciably the same course as the comets of
1668 and 1843. When I was in Australia, in 1880, a few
months after the great comet had passed out of view, I met
several persons who had seen both the comet of that year
and the comet of 1843. They all agreed in .saying that the
resemblance between the two comets was very close. Like
the comet of 1843, that of 1880 had a singularly long tail,
and both comets were remarkable for the smallness .and
dimness of their heads. One observer told me that at
times the head of the comet of 1880 could barely be
discerned.

Like the comets of 1665 and 1843, the comet of 1880
grazed close past the sun's surface. Like them it was but
about two hours and a half north of the earth's orbit-plane.
Had it only resembled the other two in these remarkable
characteristics, the coincidence would have been remark-
able. But of course the i-eal evidence by which the associa-
tion between the comets was shown was of a more decisive
kind. It was not in general character only but in details
that the path of the comet of 1880 resembled those on
which the other two comets had travelled. Its path had
almost exactly the same slant to the earth's orbit-plane as
theirs, crossed that plane ascendingly and descendingly at
almost exactly the same points, and made its nearest
approach to the sun at very nearly the same place. To the

astronomer such evidence is decisive. Mr. Hind, the
Superintendent of the " Nautical Almanac," and as sound
and cautious a student of cometic astronomy as any man
living, remarked so soon as the resemblance of these comets'
1 paths had been ascertained, that if it were merely accidental
the case was most unusual; na}', it might be described as
unique. And, be it noticed, he was referring onl}' to the
resemblance between the comets of 1880 and 184.3. Had
he recalled at the time the comet of 1668, and its closely
similar orbit, he would have admitted that the double
coincidence could not possibly be merely casual.

But this was by no means the end of the matter. Indeed,
thus far, although the circumstances were striking, there
was nothing to prevent astronomers from interpreting them
as other cases of coincident, or nearly coincident, cometic
paths had been interpreted. Hind and others, mvself in-
cluded, inferred that the comets of 1880, 1843, aiid 1668
were simph' one and the same comet, who.se return in 1880
probably followed the return in 1843 after a single revo-
lution.

In 1882, however, two years and a half after the appear-
ance of the comet of 1880, another comet came up from the
south, which followed in the sun's neighbourhood almost the
same course as the comets of 1668, 1843, and 1880. The
path it followed was not quite so close to those followed by
the other three as these had been to each other, but yet was
fai" too close to indicate possibly a mei'e casual resemblance ;
on the contrary, the resemblance in regard to shape, slope,
and those peculiarities which render this family of comets
unique in the cometai-y system, was of tlie closest and most
striking kind.

Man}' will remember the startling ideas which were sug-
gested by Professor Piazzi Smyth respecting the portentous
significance of the comet of 1882. He regarded it as con-
firming the great pyramid's teaching (according to the views
of orthodox pyramidalists) respecting the approaching end
of the Christian dispensation. It was seen under very
remarkable circumstances, blazing close by the sun, within
a fortnight or three weeks of the precise date which had
been announced as marking that critical epoch in the his-
tory of the earth.

Moreover, even viewing the matter from a scientific stand-
point. Professor vSmyth (who, outside his pyramidal para-
doxes, is an asti'onomer of well-deserved repute) could
recognise sufficient reason for regarding the comet as por-
tentous.

Many others, indeed, both in America and in Europe,
shared his opinion in this respect. A very slight retardation
of the course of the comet of 1880, during its passage close
by the surface of the .sun, would have sufficed to alter its
period of revolution from the thirty-seven years assigned on
the supposition of its identity with the comet of 1843, to
the two and a half j'ears indicated by its apparent return in
1882, and if this had occurred in 1880, a similar inter-
ruption in 1882 would have caused its return in less than
two and a half years.

Thus, circling in an ever narrowing (or rather shortening)
orbit, it would present!}', within a quarter of a century or so
perhaps, have become so far entangled among the atmo-
spheric matter around the sun, that it would have been
unable to resist absolute absorption. What the conse-
quences to the solar system might have been none ventured
to suggest. Newton had expressed his belief that the
effects of such absorption would be disastrous, but the
phj'sicists of the nineteenth century, better acquainted with
the laws associating heat and motion, were not so despondent.
Only Professor Smyth seems to have felt assured (not being
despondent but confident) that the comet portended, in a
very decisive way, the beginning of the end.

iSToVEMBER 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

15

However, we were all mistaken. The comet of 1882
retreated on such a coui'se, and with such variation of
velocity as to show that its real period must be measured
not by months, as bad been supposed, nor even by years,
but by centuries. Probably it will not return till 600
or 700 years have passed. Had this not been proved, we
miglit have been not a little perplexed by the return of
apparently the sume comet in this present year. A comet
was discovered in the south early in January, whose course,
dealt with by Professor Kruger, one of the most zealous of
our comet calculators, is found to be partially identical with
that of the four remarkable comets w-e have been con-
sidering. Astronomers have not been moved by this new
visitant on the well-worn ti-ack, as we were by tlie arrival
of the comet of 1882, or as we should have been if either
the comet of 1882 had never been seen, or its path had not
been shown to be so wide ranging. Whatever the comet of
the present year may be it was not the comet of 1882
returned. No one even supposes that it was the comet of
1880, or 1843, or 1668. Nevertheless, rightly apprehended,
the appearance of a comet travelling on appreciably the
same track as those four other comets is of extreme
interest, and indeed practically decisive as to the inter-
pretation we must place on these repeated coincidences.

Observe, we are absolutely certain that the five comets
are associated together in some way ; but we are as abso-
lutely certain that thej- are not one and the same comet
which had travelled along the same track and returned after
a certain number of circuits. We need not trouble ourselves
with the q>ie.stion whether two or more of the comets may
not have been in reality one and the same body at different
returns. It sufKces that they all five were not one ; since
we deduce precisely the same conclusion whether we regard
the five as in reality but four or three or two. But it may
be mentioned in passing as appearing altogether more
probvble, when all the evidence is considered, that there
were no fewer than five distinct comets, all travelling on
what was practically the self-same track when in the neigh-
bourhood of the sun.

There can be but one interpretation of this remarkable
fact — a fact really proved, be it noticed (as I and others have
maintained since the retreat of the comet of 1882), inde-
pendently of the evidence supplied b}' the great southern
comet of the present year. These comets must all originally
have been one comet, though now they are distinct bodies.
For there is no reasonable way (indeed, no possible way) of
imagining the separate formation of two or more comets at
different times, which should thereafter travel in the same
path.

No theory of the origin of comets ever suggested, none
even which can be imagined, could account for such a
peculiarity. Whereas, on the other hand, we have direct
evidence showing how a comet, originally single, may be
transformed into two or more comets travelling on the same,
or nearly the same, track.

The comet called Biela's, which had circuited as a single
comet up to the year 18-46 (during a period of unknown
duration in the past— probably during millions of years),
divided them into two, and has since broken up into so
many parts that each cometic fragment is separately undis-
cernible. The two comets into which Biela's divided, in
1846, were watched long enough to show that had their
separate existence continued (visibly) they would have been
found, in the fulness of time, travelling at distances very
far apart, though on nearly the same orbit. The distance
between them, which in 1846 had increased only to about a
quarter of a million of miles, had in 1852 increased to five
times that space.

Probably a few thousands of years would have sufliced to

set these comets so far apart (owing to some slight difference
of velocity, initiated at the moment of their separation) that
when one would have been at its neare.st to the sun the
other would have been at its farthest from him. If we
could now discern the separate fragments of the comet, we
should doubtless recognise a process in progress by which,
in the course of many centui-ies, the separate cometic bodies
will be di.sseminated all round the common orbit. We
know, further, that already such a process has been at work
on portions removed from the comet many centuries ago,
for as our earth passes through the track of this comet she
encounters millions of meteoric bodies which are travelling
in the comet's orbit, and once formed part of the substance
of a comet doubtle.ss much more distinguished in appearance
than Biela's.

There can be little doubt that this is the true explanation
of the origin of that family of comets, five of whase members
returned to the neighbourhood of the sun (possibly their
parent) in the years 1668, 1843, 1880, 1882, and 1887.*

But it is not merely as thus explaining what had been a
most perplexing problem that I have dealt with the evidence
supplied by the practical identity of these five comets' orbits.
When once we recognise that this, and this only, can be the
explanation of the associated group of five comets, we per-
ceive that very interesting and important light has been
thrown on the subject of comets generally. To begin with :
what an amazing comet that must have been from which
these five, and we know not how many more, were formed
by disaggregative proces.ses — probably by the divellent action
of repulsive forces exerted by the sun I Those who remember
the comets of 1843 and 1882 as they appeared when at their
full splendour will be able to imagine how noble an appear-
ance a comet would present which was formed of these com-
bined together in one. But the comet of 1880 was described
by all who saw it in the southern hemisphere as most
remarkable in appearance, despite the faintness of its head.
The great southern comet of the present year was a striking
object in the skies, though it showed the same weakness
about the head. That of 1668 was probably as remai-kable
in appearance as even the comet of 1882. A comet formed
by combining all these together would cert^nnly surpass in
magnificence all the comets ever observed by astronomers.

And then, \yhat enormous periods of time must have
been required to distrilnite the fragments of a single comet
so widely that one would be found returning to its perihelion
more than two centuries after another I When I spoke of
one member of the Biela group being in aphelion when
another would be in perihelion, I was speaking of a difference
of only three and one-third years in time ; and even that
would require thousands of years. But the scattered
cometic bodies which returned to the sun's neighbourhood
in 1668 and 1887 speak probably of millions of years which
have passed since first this comet was formed. It would be
a matter of curious inquiry to determine what may have
been the condition of our sun, what even his volume, at that
remote epoch in history.

* It may be interesting to compare the orbital elements of the
five comets above dealt with. They may be presented as follows ;
but it should be noticed that the determinations must be regarded
as rough In the case of Comets I. and V., as the observations were
insufficient for exact determination of the elements : —

I.

11.

III.

IV.

V.

Periheln. Passage

1668, Feb. 29

1843, Feb. 27

1880, Jan. 27

1882, Sep. 17

18S7. Jan 11

Log. Per. Dist. .

7-6721

7-8395

7-7714

7-8896

8-1644

Long. Per.

80° IS'

73° 30' 40"

74° 11' 13"

55° 37' 29"

89° 41'

Long. Node

3.57° 17'

35.5° 46' 48"

356° 17' 4"

346° 1'27"

369° 41'

Inclination

125»S8'

US" 1'31"

Hi" 7' 31"

141° 69' 40"

141° 16'

Eccentricity

0-9999

0-9991

0-9995

0-9999

Calculator .

Henderson

Plantamour

Meyer

Kreutz

Piulay

16

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[NOVEJIBEE 1, 1887.

SIR HENRY ROSCOE ON ATOMS.

|HE general press has done scant justice to
Sir Henry Eoscoe's Presidential Address to
the British Association, the Times leading
the way in speaking of it as too- technical
both in subject and treatment. Doubtless
it is so for the majority of readers, who need
everything pounded into pemmican or con-
densed into a sort of Liebig's Extract, but not for those who
desire to know as far as can be known everything about
something rather than something about everything. Sir
Henry wisely talked on the subject of which he knows
most, and bis words were as admirable and clear as his
substance was weighty and suggestive.

After justifying the researches of the chemist by their
economical results, he pointed out how at the back of all
speculations concerning the nature of the motions of which
matter is the vehicle, there lies the profoundly interesting
question as to the nature and mutual relations of the atoms
themselves, the building materials of the universe, and which
have known no change amidst the ever-changing combina-
tions into which they enter.

Eighty years ago, Dal ton, working in no luxurious labora-
tory.but "with the meagre apparatus of a few cups, penny
ink-bottles and self-made thermometers and barouieters, dis-
covered that a'oms combine in deBnite proportions of weight
and volume with other atoms. He thereby changed
chemistry from a qualitative to a quantitative science,
giving an impetus to research which at last promises to
bring us within sight of the fulfilment of Faraday's
prophecy, that " in the end there will be found one
element with two polarities." Many workers followed on
the lines laid down by Dalton ; notably Prout, who formu-
lated the theory that the atomic weights are multiples of
the atomic weight of hydrogen, the lightest of the .so-called
elements, and which he argued might be regarded as the
primordial element, the materia prima, from which the
others are formed by successive condensations.

The researches of the past few years establish the fact
that certain of the elements possess such strongly marked
likenesses as to warrant their classification into groups, but
the.se groups did not appear to be connected with one
another, nor to have any relation to the f;xr larger number
of elements not falling into groups. Recently, however, a
marked advance towards proof of the common origin of all
the elements has been made, in which an English chemist
(Newlands) led the van, but in which a Eussian chemist
(Mendelejelf) has outstripped him in showing that if the
seventy "elements" which have thus far been discovered
are arranged " in the order of their atomic weights from
hydrogen as 1, to uranium, the heaviest, as 240, the series
does not exhibit continuous advance, but breaks up into a
number of sections, in each of which the several terms pre-
sent analogies with the corresponding terms of other series.
Thus, the whole series does not run a, b, c, d, e, f,
g, h, ic, (fee, but a, b, c, d ; A, B, C, D ; «, fi, y, 8,
and so on, in recurring similarities." In this we have
a periodic law, as it is called, which embraces all
the elements according to the increasing value of_ their
atomic weights, and which has restored to their rightful
place in the succession certain elements for which no place
in any of the series of groups could be found. More than
this, .and as evidencing to the fruitful play of the imagina-
tion, ISlendelejeB', finding certain gaps between neighbouring
elements, pointed out that they could only be filled by
elements possessing chemical and physical properties which
he accurately specified. And, sure enough, some of these
vacancies have been filled by the discovery of elements with

the properties which Mendelejefi' predicted they must possess.
This is as interesting a romance as the discovery of Neptune,
the existence of which, it will be remembered, M. le Verrier
and Professor Adams independently deduced from the
anomalous movements of Uranus, and which " floated into
the ken " of Dr. Galle at Berlin when he pointed his
telescope to that part of the heavens where the mathema-
ticians told him he wovild find the planet.

Commenting on this significant grouping of atoms, Pro-
fessor Huxley, in his masteily siu'vey of the progress of
science in Mr. Humphry Ward's " Eeign of Queen Victoria,"
says that it " is a conception with which biologists are
very familiar, animal and ])lant groups constantly appearing
as series of parallel modifications of similar yet different
primary forms. In the living world, facts of this kind are
now understood to mean evolution from a common proto-
type. It is difiicult to imagine that in the not-Hving world
they are devoid of significance. Is it not possible, nay pro-
bable, that they may mean the evolution of our ' elements '
from a primary form of matter? Fifty years ago such a
suggestion would have been scouted as a revival of the
dreams of the alchemists. At present it may be said to be
the burning question of physico-chemical science." And
although no known energy heat that we ain apply Gin
separate any one atom into two, so that, as Dalton said,
" no man can split an atom," we do not any longer speak
of it as indivisible ; all that can be said is that it has not
yet been divided. That triumph awaits the chemistry of
the future, and, when it is accomplished, the witness to the
imity of the universe will be complete.

coucealcL

SHAKESPEARE AND BACON.*

By Benvolio.

' Though in thy stores' account I one must be ;
For nothing hold me, so it i^lease thee hold
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee :
Make but my name thy love, and love that still.
And then thou lov'st me, for m)' name is WILL."
Ska Iirfjica re's " i'onnets."

N" the -'Nineteenth Century" for May 1886
an article appeared, in which a particularly pre-
posterous development of the absurd Baconian
theory of Shakespeare's plays was brought
before the notice of Shakespearean students.
We were assured that Mr. Ignatius Donnelly
had discovered a cipher which had been craftily
within the folio edition of Shakespeare's plays,
published after his death, and that in two or three months
Mr. Donnelly would publish most surprising readings from
the cipher. It does not seem that Shakespearean scholars
were very much impressed. The best of them all, the late
Dr. Baynes, editor of the '• Encyclopaedia Britannica,"
brought out half a year later an appreciative essay on
Shakespeare, in which the Baconian theory was not even
mentioned. And now Mr. Donnelly feels moved to repeat
his assertions and to renew his promises.

In the first |)lace, Mr. Donnelly has persuaded himself
that Bacon took special interest in planning cipher systems
by which recoi-ds, such as could not safely be published,

* It is proposed to enter presently in these columns into the
study of Shakespeare's nature as unconsciously disclosed in his
works, whence also something of his life may perhaps be gleaned.
The present essay, from the American " Forum " for October, may
be regarded as fitly introducing the series of papers thus planned,
llr. Donnelly's foolish assault on the character and capacity oE
Shakespeare having in reality (absurd though it was in itself)
started tlie line of thought of which the proposed series of papers
will be the outcome.

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

17

might be preserved ready for reading, when, later, the key
of the cipher was indicated. As a matter of fact, when
dealing with " Writing," in the third division of his section
on the " Organ of Speech " in his " De Augmentis," Bacon
does describe a cipher of his own, which he invented in his
youth, at Paris.* But Mr. Donnelly would have done well
to notice that Bacon very definitely expresses his opinion
about the qualities which a good cipher should poosess. If
Mr. Donnelly is right about the imagined cipher in the
folio edition of Shakespeare, that cipher would be a very
bad one, according to Bacon's ideas. " A good cipher,"
says Bacon, " mu.-t absolutely elude the labour of the de-
cipherer," which the folio cipher has failed to do ; and " it
must yet be commodious enough to be readUy written and
read," whereas the cipher in the folio, according to Mr.
Donnelly'.s own account of it, would have been fearfullj'
difficult to write, and, as we can judge from the long delay
of Mr. Donnelly's promised volume, and the small portion
of the folio which he promises to decipher at first, the cipher
is singularly difficult to read, even when its key has been
discovered.

Passing over the overwhelming antecedent improbability
that Bacon ever wrote a line of the Shakespeare plays, and
the extreme unlikelihood that he would have devised so
cumbrous a cipher (when a few documents left to be read
fifty j"eai's or so after his death would have served the full
purpose attributed to him), let us consider the evidence in
detail.

Mr. Donnelly believes that the words of a hidden narra-
tive were to be placed in such situations in the plays, as
printed in the folio edition, that when the key was dis-
covered the whole narrative could be put together, Bacon's
authorship proved, and many un.suspected details of his life,
and of the history of his period, disclosed. It is not easy to
present with gravity the first pait of the evidence on which
this idea, antecedently so absurd, has been baaed. We ai'e
told that Bacon felt sure some student of Shakespeare would
notice the frequent appearance of the words " Francis,"
" Bacon," " Nicholas," " William," " Shakes," " peere,"
" Shake," " speare," " spurs," " spheres," &c., in the his-
torical plays ; he knew further that the ingenious student
of the future would immediately associate this observed fact
with what Bacon had said about ci]jhers in his " De
Augmentis," and, " having once started upon the scent,
would never abandon the chase until he had dug out the
cipher." The mixed metaphor is Mr. Donnelly's own.

But now see what curious proof of the existence of special
peculiarities Mr. Donnelly has obtained. On page o3 of
the '■ Histories" the word " Bacon" is the 371st from the
top of the first column. Now there are seven italic words
in that column. Multiply 53 by 7 and we get 371! On
page .54, we find in the first column twelve words in itjdics.
Midtiply 54 by 12 and we get 648. Counting words from
the top of the first column of page 54, we come to the word
" Chuffes," in which even the lively fancy of a Donnelly
cannot recognise any specially Baconian significance. It is
rather hard, because the word " Bacon " occurs in the poetic
compound " bacon-fed," thirty-two words earlier, and the
word " Bacons," eight words further on.f

* The cipher is interesting as anticipating the Morse alphabet, in
so far as it depends on the varied placing of things of two different
kinds — Italic letters and Koman letters in the case Bacon describes.

t I venture to offer Mr. Donnelly a hint, just here. May not
these numbers, .32 and S, be highly sigaiticant i Eight is contained
four times in thirty-two. Xow the word " Bacon'' appears only
four times in all Shakespeare's plays; and in two of these cases it
appears not simply as " Bacon," but in one place as " Bacons " and
in the other as part of the compound " bacon-fed." Now, applying
a certain rule we imagine we have discovered, we fail to get any
Baconian word, but we find two of the " Bacons " out of all the

But Mr. Donnelly is not to be foiled by such a difficulty
as this. Nay, he does not even mention it. Not finding
anything to suit him on page 54, from which he had obtained
the number (j48, he turns back to page 53, without any
reason assigned, and finds there the t548th word to be
Nicholas — tlie Christian name of Francis Bacon's father.
Even this marvellous result is only obtained by humouring
the count. Mr. Donnelly admits that in this case words in
brackets are to be omitted ; and he must have some system
of counting hyphenated words as one or two to bring out
the desii-ed result, or else such words as "'twere" for "it
were " " a clocke " for " o'clock," and so forth, may be con-
sidered single or double as required.

Mr. Donnelly appears not to have been deterred by the
failure of the method on page 54 from trying it on page
after page, until at last, coming to page 67, he obtained
something like a success — at least, to one so sanguine as
himself. There are six italic words in the first column of
page 67, 6 times 67 is 40l*, and the 402nd word on page 67
is " S. Albores," for " St. Albans," the place from which
Bacon's title was fciken. It rather impairs the value of
this coincidence that if we are to take " S. Albones " thus
as one word, so also should we take " S. Nicholas " as one.
Mr. Donnelly has already taken just so much of this word
as his case wanted ; though, indeed, the iniquity which his
theory attributes to Bacon, Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and
all others supposed to be in the plot, is so great, that he
might well have taken the whole word — the name of the
patron saint of those who commit rascality under cover of
darkness — as specially belonging to the imagined cipher
system. What he does in one case he should do in the
other, only it would not suit his theory to have only
" Albones."

I cannot weary the reader with examples of other methods
of counting, invented by Mr. Donnelly to serve as occasion
mav require. It must be admitted that it is not his fixult
that no constant rule will serve him. Sometimes he must
be free to multiply by the number of words in brackets
instead of by the number of words in italics ; sometimes to
count from the top of the page itself, sometimes from the
page before, sometiiues from the page after; sometimes to
count hyphenated words as single, sometimes as double, and
so on. But I cannot follow him in detail, because no
sensible reader can be expected to examine many of these
inanities. Suffice it that among the words found by these
multitudinous devices are " volume," " maske," " his,"
" greatest," '• therefore," " shown," " image," " but," " own,"
and others, which assuredly no one but Mr. Donnelly will
regard as amazingly significant.

One case only will I cite as illu.strating Mr. Donnelly's
singular readiness to be startled into conviction by casual
coincidence. The reader should carefully note each detail
separately, for there is absolutely nothing to connect them
together. The number of page 75 multiplied by 12, the
number of italics in the first column of another page, page 74,
gives tiOO; and the number of page 76, multiplied by 11,
the number of words in brackets in the first column of the
same page 76, gives 836. Now counting from the top of
the first column of page 74, omitting words in brackets, and
counting the hyphenated words no longer as two words but
as one, the 83Gtli word will be found to be the 304th word of

four in Shakespeare on either side of the word we have lit upon —
one of them four times as far from it as the other. " Can this be
accidental?" Mr. Donnelly should have inquired. Are not the
chances thousands to one against the occurrence of so many twos
and fours in connection with the word "Bacon"? If any doubt
can remain on this point, it ought to vanish when we notice that
the numbers 8 and ?>2 are each multiples of four and powers of two,
these powers being also four less one and four plus one respectively .
One can go on with such drivel, however, indefinitely.

18

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

page 75, and is the amazingly significant word " found " !
Beginning from the top of page 75, and counting onward in
the same way, the 836th word is " out." But counting
from the same points, taking in the words in brackets, and
counting each hvplienated word separately, we find the same
two words, " found " and " out," each as the 900th instead
of the 83()th word in its respective count !

On attaining this result, about as interesting as the dis-
covery that the number of words in one of the books of the
" Iliad " or " Odyssey " chances to be a perfect square, Mr.
Donnelly exclaims : " Can any man believe that this is the
result of accident 1 It could not occur l)v chance one time
in a hundred millions. The man who can believe this is
the result of chance would, to use one of Bacon's compari-
sons, ' believe that one could scatter the letters of the
alphabet on the ground, and they would accidentally arrange
themselves into Homer's Iliad.' " It must be admitted,
however, that the error into which Mr. Donnelly foils as to
coincidences of the sort is a common one. " What strange
hands were dealt us," someone will say at whist ; "I wonder
what the chances were that those particular hands would be
dealt : millions to one against, I should imagine ! " The
answer is that the odds were more than six hundred and
thirty-five thousand millions to one against those exact
hands, but that the question of chance is not affected.
Every set of hands at whist might he regarded as a mar-
vellous coincidence if we viewed the matter in that way.
The real question is. What is the probability that in a given
set of hands odd coincidences may be found, if we look care-
fully for them 1 and the answer is, that nearly always you
can find such coincidences if you look for them with suf-
ficient patience. And so it is with such counting of pages,
italics, brackets, words, hyphens, &c., as Mr. Donnelly has
fruitlessly undertaken. You are bound to find hundreds of
siich coincidences as he notes for marvels.

But we must notice also the str.ange reasoning by which
Mr. Donnelly has persuaded himself that the text of the
folio has been altered — " twisted," as he sa3's, " to conform
to the requirements of a mathematical cipher "■ — -though
Bacon was weak indeed in mathematics. Mr. Donnelly
notes the appearance of italicised words, hyphenated words,
and words in parentheses, which he insists on calling
brackets, and represents as brackets when (pioting. He
does not seem aware of the fact that when the folio was
printed it was the custom to italicise all pro])ei' names as
they are italicised in the folio, to hyphenate all connected
words, such as "lean-on," "get-over," " find-out," &c., and
to use parentheses to inclose words presenting an interjected
expression or thought, which in modern printing would
ordy be inclosed between commas. (I prefer this old usage
myself.)

To show how ready Mr. Donnelly is to imagine peculiari-
ties where in reality all is in order, I note that he regards
the lines

" You are too {jreat to be (by me) gainsaid,"
and

•' I cannot think (my Lord) your son is dead,"

as printed in an unusual and unnatural fashion ; and he
asserts that in the first part of " Henry IV," such phra.ses
are not so printed. Yet had he but turned for comparison
to the most striking of all these passages in the first part of
" Henry IV." which relate to the Percy plot, he would have
found the lines

" This bald, unioynted Chat of his (my Lord)
Made me to answer indirectly (as I said),"

precisely matching the cases which he deems so strange. It
would lie impossible to convince Mr. Donnelly that lines
which he quotes as strange, coutoi'ted, confused, &c., are
perfectly natural and especially Shakespearean ; for he mani-

festly has not the slightest germ of the faculty which enables
the critic to recognise at once the touch of Shakes|ieare's
hand. He finds such expressions as " the dole of blows,"
walking '• o'er perils on an edge" (compare "on the unstead-
fast footing of a spear "), and so forth, altogether unnatural.
He cannot even understand so simple a passage as —

" The lives of all your lovicf;' complices
Leane-on your health, the which, if you give o'er
To stormy passion, must perforce decaj' ; "

asking gravely how lives can decay, when Shakespeare
clearly speaks of Northumberland's health decaying. But
the greatest absurdity of all, in this connection, is Mr.
Donnelly's elaborate mystification in regard to the lines

" Or what hath this bold enterprise bring forth,
More than this being which was like to be / "

Of course, " bring " is a misprint for " brought " : the folio
is far from being so carefully printeil that that need astonish
us. But Mr. Donnelly says the line '• more than this being
which was like to be," reads like an extract from Mark
Twain's recent essay on " English as She is Taught." Yet,
even as Mr. Donnelly misquotes the line, it should perplex
no one. " What," asks Morton. " hath this bold enterprise
brought forth, more than this comlition of affairs which was
likely in any case to have come to pass 1 " It should be
noticed, by the way, that iu the folio the line runs —
" More then that Being, which was like to be ? "

" Then " is equivalent to " than," and " that " slightly alters
the sen.-e ; but the point to be noticed chiefiy is that the
cajiital " B" marks the word " Being" as a noun (condition,
state of affairs), and not the participle for which Mr,
Donnelly has manifestly taken it. The comma, also, after
Being, makes the sense obvious. The meaning of the
passage should be clear, however, without this evidence
from the folio itself.

With a lively imagination for the suggestion of im-
possibly ingenious cipher systems, and complete freedom
from such restraints as Shakespearean scholarship would
impose, Mr. Donnelly may read almost anything in the folio
edition of Shakespeare. He can make his own history of
Bacon's secret Shakespearean life, and find every item of it
in the plays as printed in that edition. I have little doubt
that in this w.ay he has found already, to his own satisfac-
tion, what wo\dd be most surprising if really regarded as
the work of Bacon. The first sentence lie ]iublicly claimed
to have read would of itself astound any one who had made
any acquaintance with Elizabethan literature. It begins, '* I
was in the greatest fear that they would say that the
image," &c. He might almost as reasonably have made
Bacon say, " It was too awfully awful to think that they
would say that," etc. Not a sentence published between the
years 1.550 and 1050, or even until later than 1750, re-
sembles in structure the sentence attributed by Mr. Donnelly
to Bacon, a master of the tersest stj'le of which the English
language is capable. Mr. Donnelly's marvellous first-fruit
was not only a sentence of purely nineteenth-century
English, but a very clumsy example even of that.

Finally, Mr. Donnelly pretends to wonder that English-
men should be wroth with him for striving (as he puts it)
to pass tiie fame duo to the author of the plays from one
celebrated Englishman to another. The pretence is twofold.
No Englishman that I have ever heard of, and no American
of English descent (to whom Shakespeare's fame must be as
dear as to the native-born Englishman, since birthplace is
the merest accident), has ever viewed the Baconian theory
of Shakespeare's plays with an}' feeling resembling wrath.
A foolish fancy like that theory may provoke a smile, but
certainly no anger ; and our amusement can only be in-
tensified by such an amazingly absurd extension of the

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

19

theory as Mr. Donnelly has wandered into. But the theory,
could it lie established, would not hand the fame of " gentle
Will Shakespeare" to Bicon, the keen logician and potent
reasoner ; it would bring discredit to tiie n imes of both, as
also to others esteemed for varied attainments and qualities,
whom the Baconian theory associates with Shakespeare and
Bacon in a cowardly and shameful plot.

By Eichard A. Proctor.

Ix this number are begun several of the subjects promised in
the announcements made respecting the eleventh volume of
Knowledge. How much more might be done if the public
would give one tithe of the support to a magazine relating
to science which they will give to a magazine incorpo-
rating sensation stories by tenth-rate novelists, few, save the
proprietoi's and publishers of scientific magazines, can guess.
Every month's issue of a magazine like this involves a sacri-
iiee of time, labour, and money, entirely inconsistent with
the sound old saying that " the labourer is worthv of his
hire."

* * *
By an odd coincidence, just after reading through, in
Knowledge for September, an article in which true loyalty
and false loyalty were contrasted, I opened the October issue
of " The Forum " at the stupendously silly — unless it is to
be considered the bitterly sarcastic — article by General Lord
Wolseley on " Queen Victoria's Eeign."

General Wolseley found in the Jubilee clatter evidence of
love for a family representing " all that we most delight to
dwell on in our history," " the heirs of our lion-heai-ted
Eichard " (recognised Ijy history as one of the coarsest, and
at heart most cowardly of ruffians), " of our Henries of
York and Lancaster" (the Henries of York are unknown to
history, and onh' one Henry of Lancaster was even respect-
able in character and conduct, the fourth Henry being a
treacherous murderer, and the sixth a nonentity), and "of
our own great Tudor Elizabeth." Queeu Victoria's kinship
to Elizabeth is remote — to say the least — considei'ing that
we have to go back to Henry VII. befoi-e we can advance
down the line of descent to the one Stuart King of England,
through whom the Hanoverian line claims kinship with the
earlier mouarchs of this country. But when we consider
that less than a thousandth part of the Queen's blood came
from that Stuart monarch, it is rather absurd to grow en-
thusiastic about the attributes of the present royal family.
Ask Mr. Francis Galton how much of the old fighting and
ruling qualities of the Xorman kings could have been handed
down by direct hereditary descent even to the later Plan-
tagenets, and his answer will hardly favour the idea that,
for example, George III., whom WolseJey openly ridicules
as a blundering old ass, or George IV., whom solier history
recognises as a brainless and heartless humbug, could have
inherited any exceptionally kingly attributes from those ad-
mirable ancestral plunderers. Loyalty like Wolseley's, which
depends solely on the asserted amiability and good sense of
the actual monarch, and openly despises her nearer ancestry,
is not loyalty at all, even of the poor kind considered — and
assuredly cannot be tinselled into better semblance by refer-
ences t ) far-back ruffians palmed off in children's histories
as gallant knights and able rulers.
* * *

It is not here and thus, however, that General Wolseley
chiefly blundeis in his easily explained enthusiasm. He

deliberately quotes, as the most characteristic samples of
true loyalty, conduct which in the selfsame breath he calls
superstitious or silly or ignorant (or all three). He was
" much struck " by " a newspaper descrijition of the unveil-
ing of the Queen's statue in India," telling how the ignor.ant
natives, regarding it as a kind of idol, " rushed forward and
kissed the feet " of it ! " The simpler the nature of the
peeple," he justly says (he mzist mean his whole article
ironically), " the more unquestioning is their religious faith
and that loyalty which is akin to it." Then he tells how a
little girl, after the Hyde Fni-k fete, went home and told her
mother she had seen a balloon go up which had taken "the
Queen to heaven." " The idea may " (sic) have been '' silly
in itself, but it signified a train of reasoning in which loyalty
was evidently a prominent element." Could anything more
sarcastic have possiblj' been said by the keenest advocate of
true versus false lojalty ?

* * *

Nest, the gallant opponent of the superstitious but most
loyal followers of the Mahdi tells us how " a ])oorly-clad
nursemaid, pushing a perambulator before her through the
crowds in the ' East End,' " expounded //cr ideas about the
Queen — and he grows enthusiastic over her utterances :
" This simple nursemaid," he says, '• like millions of other
people, was imbued with the species of hero-worship which
in monarchies is known as loyalty."

* * *

Then he somewhat liberates the feline from its encom-
passment by dwelling on the fact that " personal devotion
to the sovereign is more apt to be" (or to seam) lively,
" when all favours, rewards, and punishments emanate
directly from the throne : the less this is the case, the feebler
we should expect to find those feelings of which loyalty is
compounded." Pos.sibly General Viscount Wol.seley has had
occasion to appreciate both that kind of gratitude which has
been described as " a lively sense of favours to come," and
that anxiety as to punishment which naturally, as he says,
suggests the sense of personal — aye, intensely personal —
loyalty. If so, he may well ask, consciously and anxiously,
whether the spirit which teaches men to despise adulation of
the powerful and to advocate true self-respecting loyalty,
"confers a boon upon mankind " (as represented by number
one) in " seeking to eradicate loyalty " (of the false kind)
" from the human heart."

But if this is the way in which such friends of loyalty,
falsely so called, defend it, such loyalty, could it but speak
for itself, miglit exclaim " Save me from my friends," — with
almost as much reason as Gordon at Khartoum.

MYTH, RITUAL, AND RELIGION.*

HE science of comparative mythology is for-
tunate in having had the methods of its
expositors subjected to severe tests at
what is still an early stage of its history.
We owe no small debt to the scholars
who rescued materials which imbed men's
thoughts while at low levels of culture
from the hands of dictionary-makers .and allegorists, and
who made plain its deep and long hidden significance. But
this must not blind us to the defects of their method, which,
as our readers scarcely need to be reminded, explains the
repulsive and ludicrous features in the myths of higher
races as due to what Professor Max Miiller calls a " disease

* " Myth, Ritual, and Religion.'
a; Co.

By Andrew Lang. Longmans

20

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

of language," to the forgetting of the purer primitive
meaning untlerlpng the names of the gods and heroes of
mytholog}', and which it is contended, by an appeal to their
supposed etymologies, were, in the first instance, names of
the sun, the dawn, the tliunder, and so forth.

The arguments in support of this, presented in attractive
guise and with much show of reason, in Professor Max
Miiller's well-known essay, reprinted in the first volume of
his " Chips," and elaborated in Sir George Cox's " Mythology
of the Aryan Nations," have held the fiekl for some years,
being only now and then attacked by skirmisliers, or by the
light artillery of clever parody. But of late a growing
feeling of the insufficiency of a method which rests chiefly
on evidence from words as to whose meaning experts difler,
and which, moreover, interprets only the myths and rituals
of ancient and modern civilisations, while ignoring or under-
valuing those of savage races, has arisen, the result of
which is to condemn that method as untenable in the main,
and as applicable only to a very small portion of the great
body of myth.

The impetus to this discrediting of etymology as the sole
key to interpretation came from a comparison of the myths
of the higher with those of the lower races, which brought
out the fundamental likenesses between them in the coarse
and wild elements common to each. Anthropologists ex
plain the presence of these elements in Greek, Vedic, and
other mythologies, as survivals from the lower culture out
of which Greeks and Brahmans have emerged. They are
the old Adam which has never been cast out. Like the
ancestral l^istory of the type which the embryo repeats in its
advance from the egg to the full-grown state, myths pre-
serve traces of the intellectual and spiritual tj'pes in which
their earliest forms were cast, and thus add their witness to
the unity and continuity of history.

Thus viewed, myths, rituals, and religions, wherever
found and in whatever refined or unrefined connection, fall
into their related place in the general march of man's de-
velopment. It is of this sound and verified method of
anthro|)ology — which has no limitation of race or zone —
that Mr. Lang is the most prominent and cultured ex-
ponent. He can claim for it, as his letter to Eusebius in
the delightful " Letter's to Dead Authors " shows, a vener-
able antiquity, since the learned Bishop of Cresarea, in
treating of the " pagan " mythologies, argued that " they
descend from a period when men in their lawless barbarism
knew no better than to tell such tales. Ancient folk in the
exceeding savagery of their lives made no account of God,
but betook them to all manner of abominations. Growing
a little more civilised, men sought after something divine,
which they found in the heavenly bodies. Later they fell
to worshipping living persons, especially medicine men and
conjurors, and continued to worship them even after their de-
cease, the Greek temjjles being really tombs of the dead.
(Which, by the way, applies to every Roman Catholic church,
since, according to Papal traditions, unconsciously conserv-
ing the barbaric worship of ancestors, there can be no altar
where there are no relics.) Finally, the civilised ancients,
with a conservative reluctance to abandon their old myths,
invented for them moral or physical explanations like those
of Plutarch and others earlier and later."

Mr. Lang's diligence has also unearthed an essay by
Fontenelle, a nephew of Corneille, which was published in
1758, and in which he explains the absurdities of the old
mythologies as the legacy of the savage and ignorant an-
cestors from which every civilised race is descended. He
" concludes that all nations made the astounding part of
their myths while they were savages, and retained them
from custom and religious conservatism." This could not be
better or more briefly put.

The space given to a quarterly review article would only
suffice to furnish an outline of the profusion of illustration
from ancient and modern sources with which Mr. Lang
supports his general thesis. The present volumes — as easy
to read as a novel, and far more entertaining than nine-
tenths of the novels published nowadays — are a careful and
elaborate restatement of all that Mr. Lang has hitherto
published in fugitive form or in the more collected essays
comprised in his earlier book on " Custom and Myth,"
which was the subject of a lengthy notice in this journal
three years ago.

Brushing aside the notion that even in the lowest and
crudest myths we touch the beginnings of thought, Mr.
Lang gives a rapid but sufficient survey of the interpretation
of ancient and modern mythologists, wisely transferring his
answer — complete and crushing as it is — to the objections
raised against the anthropological methods, chiefly by Pro-
fessor Max Miiller, to an appendix. The body of the book
is thus relieved of contentious matter, and filled with ex-
amples drawn from the lower and the higher culture,
bringing out with clearness the remarkable coincidences
between the myths of Greeks and Bushmen, of Finns and
Kaffirs, of Aztecs and Zulus. Some prominence is given at
the outset to the widespi-ead — we may say universal — attri-
bution of life and personality to everything by savages, and
to their belief in descent from sun, animal, or plant, as the
key to their theologies, rites, and customs. Very much
remains unexplained, but the agreement of the evidence
drawn from races between whom no intercourse has taken
place since their first dispersion leaves little doubt that
such practices as the prohibition against marriage between
members of the .same tribe-name or totem, and against
eating the animal which gives its name to the totem, arise
from belief in the near kinship of man and brute.

Mr. Lang's skill in disentangling an intricate subject
from the webs of theory-spinners is markedly shown in his
two chapters on the gods of the Indian Aryans and on the
mythology of Egypt. His sanity of view is apparent in the
conclusions at which he arrives concerning the latter, and
which agree with the general conclusions reached through-
out the volumes. " In Egypt, as elsewhere, a mythical and
a religious, a rational and an irrational, stream of thought
flowed together, and even to some extent mingled their
waters. The rational tendency, declared in prayers and
hymns, amjilifies the early belief in a protecting and friendly
power making for righteousness. The irrational tendency,
declared in myth and ritual, retains and elaborates the early
confusions of thought between man and beast and God, and
between things animate and inanimate. On the one hand,
we have almost a recognition of supreme divinity ; on the
other, savage rites and beliefs shared by Australians and
Bushmen. Egyptian religion and myth are thus no isolated
things ; they are Ijut the common stuff of human thought
decorated or distorted under a hundred influences in the
course of unknown centuries."

Mr. Lang has an easy task in explaining why certain
groups of myth, even those of whole races, as Finns and
Scandinavians, should be excluded, at least, for the present,
unless his volumes are to grow to unwieldy size. But he
gives no reasons for the omissions, here and there, which
betray a reluctance to include the myths and legends of
.Judaism and Christianity as due to the like ciiuses which
explain the myths and legends of other religions. Silence
upon this subject does harm in fostering prejudices which
ai-e strengthened when the mythologies and cosmogonies of
a Semitic tribe are treated as an integral part of sacred
writings into which there enter elements as coarse and crude
as those which are found in Yedic hymns and savage
legends. For example, Yahweh f Jehovah) smells the sweet

November 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LKDGK ♦

21

savour of Noah's sacrifice (Genesis viii. 21), and Indra eats
the flesh of bulls (" Rig-Yeda x. 28, 3) : A^ahweh-Elohim
creates man out of moist earth (Genesis ii. 6, 7), and the
Australian Pund-jeh makes two claj' images of men and
breathes his breath into them.

We can only conclude this inadequate notice by saying
to the solar mythologists that if, after honestly weighing
the arguments advanced in this important work, they be-
lieve not Mr. Lang and his cloud of witnesses, " neither will
they be persuaded though one rose from the dead."

In Cheviots Glens. By Jane T. Stoddart. (Oli-
phant.) — This is a very pleasantly written story of modern
life on the Scottish Border. The scenes and characters
are not ostensibly sketched from life ; but, presuming
that they are, none of the originals would, we think, have
any good reason to complain that Miss Stoddart had not
done them justice. It is a little odd to find the shepherd's
son marrying the squire's daughter, even though he was
a " meenister " ; but we suppose '• they do these things
better " in Scotland, or oftener, at any rate, than we do
here. We have spent a very pleasant hour " In Cheviots
Glens," and hope to meet Miss Stoddart in the neighbour-
hood again.

My 3Iicroscope ; and Some Objects from my Cabinet.
By a QuEKETT Club-man. (Eoper &. Drowley, Ludgate
Hill. Is. 6d.)— The Quekett Club, to which this'little work
is dedicated, is not Ukely to increase its credit largely by the
connection. We are totally unable to see the raison d'etre
of the book. Gosse's " Evenings at the Micro-scope " has
been cheaply reprinted. Houghton's " Microscope and the
Wonders it Reveals " is selling at less than a shilling, and
there are a dozen other little works which will each tell the
beginner twenty times as much as he can learn from the
pages before us. It is an elegantly got-up little book, thick
paper, large type. The binding is good. The printing is
well done. But that is all we can say of prai.se. The illus-
trations are few and poor. One roughly depicting a hydra
is suggestively labelled on the back " a monster." There is
a group of diatoms fairly well drawn in the chapter on "A
Skeleton." But the text, instead of giving even their
names, indulges in a few generalities on Auhicodiscus orien-
talis, which is not figured. The other chapters treat on
"An Eye," "A Wing," "A Slice of Rock," &c., and make
a few remarks on a spider, a butterfly, and so forth. The
work contains 78 pages. Eighteen are absolutely blank ;
eleven more, including tlie dedication and table of contents,
share seventy-five words among them. In conclusion we
can only regret that any one professing to love the micro-
scope can say so little for it at the price.

t

A Junior Course of Practical Zoology. By A. Milner
Marshall, M.D., D.Sc, M.A., F.E.S., assisted by C.
Herbert Hurst. (London : Smith, Elder, & Co. 1887.)
As an introductoiy text-book for the student of zoology,
the work of Dr. Marshall and INlr. Hurst leaves httle or
nothing to be desii-ed. Written with scrupulous care by
men peraonally thoroughly familiar with the objects and
processes they describe, and illustrated by woodcuts which,
if few, are excellent, the student who will sedulously work
through the graduated series of dissections so carefully and
minutely treated of in it, will have attained a very con-
siderable knowledge indeed of animal morphology. Our
authors begin with the most rudimenfairy forms of life,
the amoeba, paramecium, vorticella, (fee. (the so-called

" infusoria ") ; and then ascend throvigh the hydra, the liver-
fluke of the sheep, the leech, earthworms, and the like ; the
crayfish, cockroach, lancelet, and dogfish, to the rabbit, fowl,
and pigeon. An immense araouut of honest work is embodied
in the volume before us, which will doubtless speedily
attain high rank as a handbook in schools of anatomy and
physiology.

Lessons in Elementary Mechanics. By W. H. Grieve,
P.S.A., late R.N. (London : Longmans, Green, & Co.
1887.) — In simple language, and with an abundant supply
of illustrative woodcuts, Mr. Grieve treats of the six
•' mechanical powers " of the old books on Natural Philo-
sophy : the lever, the wheel and axle, the pulle}', the in-
clined plane, the wedge, and the screw ; as also of liquid
pressure, the hydrostatic press, liquids under the action of
gravity, and the parallelograms of forces and of velocities.
The examples selected are derived from objects in familiar
use, and the pupil must be abnormally stupid or idle who
foils to understand Mr. Grieve's very plain exposition of
them. He has done his work well.

Handbook of Practical Botany. By E. Strasbueger.
Edited from the German by W. Hillhouse, M.A., F.L.S.

(London: Swan Sonnenscheiu, Lowrey, & Co. 1887.) —
We are glad to welcome Professor Strasburger's admirable
manual of structural and physiological botany in its English
dress, supplying, as it does, a want in our microscopical
literature. Nor has our examination of the work seemed
to furnish much, if any, justification for the apologetic tone
in which Mr. HUlhouse speaks of his translation, since this
appears, as far as we can judge, to render the sense, and
even in some sort the diction, of the original very well
indeed. Famed as Herr Strasburger is as a microscopical
manipulator and observer, the exhaustive mass of detailed
description of the dissection and preparation of plants for
examination which this volume contains cannot fail to be of
the greatest interest and use to the vegetable histologist and
physiologist. Nothing is omitted which can facilitate the
processes described, and profuse illustration supjjlements
directions themselves of the most explicit character. There
are careful tables of the plants used for study, the re-agents
employed in their examination, preparations for mounting
them, ifcc. In short, this is a book which every microscojjist
ought to have, and every botanist must have.

An Introduction to Machine Drawing and Design. By
David Allan Low. (London : Longmans, Green & Co.
1887.) — This very practical little book is the work of a man
thoroughly familiar with the subject of his descriptions, and
who further possesses the faculty of impax-ting his own
knowledge easily and pleasantly. It should be studied not
only by the young engineer but by the fitter, turner, and,
in "fact, everybody who has to make drawings of machinery
or work from them.

The Problem of Ecil. By DakielGreesleaf Thompson.
(London : Longmans, Green, <fe Co. 1887.) — Mr. Thomp-
son, in the very able and important work before us, investi-
gates the nature and origin of evil, and essays to point out
the most hopeful means for its elimination. In doing this,
he perforce discusses what he calls " the Great Theological
Superstition," and paints in vivid colours the horrible im-
morality of the doctrme weekly taught from thousands of
pulpits. He discusses at length the suggested methods
(social, political, and ecclesiastical) for reducing evil to a
minimum, which have been and are still advanced, and
.shows trenchantly the fallacies which underlie them all.
The conclusion at which he arrives is that the eliminatitmof
evil, and consequent amelioration of mankind, can only be
effected by — first, aiming at the minimum of extrinsic
restraint and the maximum of Uberty for the individual ;

99

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

and seconiUy, aiming at the most complete and universal
development of the altruistic character. We will not
diminish the pleasure with which the reader will peruse
this volume by any more detailed analysis of its contents.
Suffice it to say that Mr. Thompson has made a real and
enduring contribution to ethical philosophy.

Labour, Leisure, and Liixunj. By Alex. Wylie. (Lon-
don : Longmans, Green, & Co. 1887.) — To any philanthro-
pist who is anxious to celebrate the Jubilee year by doing
permanent good to a large and important section of his
fellow-countrymen, we would commend the idea of the cir-
culation, broadcast, among the working population of Great
Britain of Mr. Wylie's most excellent little volume. As an
antidote to the dangerous sophisms and interested rant of
Champion, George, Hyndman, and Co., it would be difficult
to find anything to surpass it.

Manual of Bacteriology/. By Edgar M. Crookshank,
M.B., F.R.M.S. Second' Edition. (London : H. K. Lewis.
1887.) — Very appreciable justification of the praise which
we bestowed upon the first edition of Mr. Crooksbank's
beautiful work (on page 134 of our ninth volume) is to be
found in the fact that after so comparatively short a lapse of
time, a second has been called for. Our author has taken
advantage of this to add considerably to his work in its
original form. The new chapters on Antiseptics and Dis-
infectants, and on Immunity, possess high interest for others
besides the mere specialist. It would beiaipossible to praise
too highly the very beautifid plates with which the volume
is so liberally illustrated.

A Photograph, and How to Take It. By " One Who
Knows." (London : E. G. Wood. 1887.)— This is a trea-
tise on photographic manipulation for the very beginner,
and the instruction it contains is given in such simple
language as to be intelligible to the meanest capacity. It is
followed by a catalogue of apparatus and materials sold by
its publisher.

Tips in Algebra, by Rev. A. D. Capel, M.A. (London :
Joseph Hughes. 1887) ; Questions in Psijchology, Ethics,
and Metaphi/sics, by F. Ryland, M.A. (London : Swan
Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co. 1887) ; Cliehiistrij for Begin-
ners, hyU. L. Taylor, F.l.C, F.C.S. (London: Sampson
Low, Marston, Searle, & Riviugton. 1887) ; Descriptive
Geomefri/ and Graphic Arithmetic, by W. S. BiNNS (London :
Simpkin, Mai-shall, &. Co.); Euclid's Elements of Geometry,
Book I., arranged by A. E. Layng, M.A. (London : Blackie
& Son). — The somewhat heterogeneous assemblage of books
whose titles head this notice possess one attribute in
common, and that is that they are one and all written as
aids to the miserable examinee in that delightful system now
in vogue for obtaining public servants which we have so
slavishly copied from the Chinese. They are worthy of
being devoted to more useful and laudable ends than that
of being employed as mere cram books. To take a single
illustration, Mr. Binns's " Graphic Arithmetic " will come
almost as a revelation to a very large number indeed of his
readers.

Photography. — Messrs. Marion & Co., of Soho Square, London,
have just introduced a universal ten-per-cent. solution for develop-
ing, which promises to be of great assistance to amateur and pro-
fessional pliDtngraphers. The hitherto complicated formulas for
developing plates manufactured by different firms may now he
dispensed with, as everything is made easy to the operator by the
use of this solution. Precise instructions are given on e.ach bottle
as to the quantities required for tlie jjlates of tlie principal makers
in general use at the present time. The solution has simply to be
poured into a bottle, no weights or measures are necessary, and no
mistakes can ever occur if the directions fixed on the bottle are
complied with.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR NOVEMBER.

E are apparently approaching a period of sunspot
minimum pretty rapidly, and days pass without
visible signs of disturbance on the sun's disc.
4t the beginning of the month the zodiacal light
still lingers to the south of east before sunrise.
Map xi. of " The Stars in their Seasons" shows
the face of the night skv. Minima of Algol
("The Stars in their Seasons," map xii) will
occur at th. 59m. P M. on November 1st; at
9h. 52m. P.ll. on the tSth ; at 6h. 41m. P.M. on the 21st; and at
other times more inconvenient to the amateur observer. Mercury
comes into inferior conjunction with the sun on the 17th, and is an
evening star after that date, but is very badly placed for the
observer. Venus is a morning star, and is a brilliant object to the
sotith of east about 3h. A.M. She still exhibits a beautiful orescent
in the tele.scope. She is in Virgo ("The Stars in their Seasons,"
map v.). Mars is, for our present purpose, invi.sible ; and .Jupiter
absolutelj' so. Saturn rises about 10 o'clock at night at the
beginning of the month, and soon after Sh. P M. at the end of it.
His ring system will be seen to be very slowly clo.sing up. He will
be found a little to the west and north of 5 (Jancri (" The Stars in
their Seasons," map iii.). Uranus cannot be seen until 1888; but
Neptune is to be found in the blank part of the sky S.S.E. of the
Pleiades (" The Seasons Pictured," map xii.). The moon enters
her last quarter at 5h. 2m. in the afternoon of the 8th ; is new at
Sh. 8-4m. a.m. on the 15th ; enters her first quarter at lOh. 43m. in
the morning of the 22nd; and is full at 3h. 20-lm. P.M. on the
30th. She will occult seven stars at convenient hours during the
month, besides others during the early morning ones. On the 6th,
ff Geminorutu, a star of the 5Jth magnitude, will disappear at the
moon's bright limb at lOh. 34m. P.M. at an angle from her vertex of
338°. It will reappear at her dark limb at lOh. 51m. P M.. at an
angle of 302° from her vertex. Before she rises on the 8th she will
have occulted 7 Leonis, a Cjth magnitude star. Later it will re-
appear at her dark limb, at llh. Sra. P M., at an angle from her
vertex of 182°. On the 18th, 33 Sagittarii, a star of the 5th
magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at 4h. 23m. P.M , at an
angle of 38° from the vertex of the moon. It will reappear at her
bright limb at 4h. 50ra. p M , at a vertical angle of 1°. Later on,
at Gh. 2m. P.M., ^- Sagittarii, of the 4th majnitude, will disappear
at the dark limb at an angle of 103° from the moon's vertex, re-
appearing at her bright limb at 7h. 5m. P.M., at .an angle from
her vertex of 330°. On the 20th, B.A.C. 7202, of the 6th magnitude,
will disappear at the dark limb at 4h. 46m. P.M., at a vertical angle
of 124°. It will reappear at the brigiit limb of the moon at
6h. 2m. P.M. at an angle of 279° from her vertex. Next at
5h. 35m. P.M. B.A.C. 7209, of the 6^th magnitude, will disappear at
the dark limb at an angle of 159° from the moon's vertex. It will
reappear at her bright limb at 6h. 32m. P.M. at a vertical angle of
259°. And, finally, 19 Capricorni, a star of the 6th magnitude, will
disappear at the dark limb of the moon at 8h. 30m. p.m. at an angle
of 114° from her vertex, but she will have set prior to its reappear-
ance at her bright limb. When the.^e notes begin the moon is in
Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.), but at 10 o'clock
to-night passes into Taurus. She is travelling through Taurus
until 8h. P.M. on the 4th, when she reaches the boundary of the
northern prolongation of Orion It takes her just 12 hours to cross
this, and at 8h. A.M. on the 5th she emerges in Gemini ("The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She is m Gemini until 4h. 30m.
A.M. on the 7th. when she quits it for Cancer. She has completed
her journey across Cancer by 6h. P.M. on the 8th, at which hour she
enters Leo. Here she cuntinues until 6h. 30m. A.M on the 11th,
when she passes into Virgo ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.).
Her passage through Virgo terminates at 3h. A.M. on the 14 th, and she
quits that constellation for Libra (" The Seasons Pictured," plate
xxvi.). As she traverses Libra she comes, at 8h. P.M. on the 15th,
to the western edge of the narrow northern spike of Scorjjio, and
when, by 4h. 30m. the next morning, she h.as traversed this, it is to
emerge in Ophiuchus. She passes out of Ophiuchus into Sagitt.arius
at 5h. P.M. on the 17th. She leaves Sagittarius and enters Caprl-
cornus at midnight on the 19th ("The Seasons Pictured," plate
xxi ). She remains in Capricornus until Ih. A.M. on the 22nd, and
then quits it for Aquarius, leaving Aquarius, in turn, for Pisces at
8h. A M. on the 24th (" The Seasons Pictured," plate sxii.). In her
journey through this great straggling constellation she enters on the
confines of Cetus at 2h. A.M. on the 25th. At 9h. A.M. on the 2!ith
she re-emerges in Pisces, ouly, however, once more to enter a part
of Cetus at lib. 30m. A.M. on the 27th. When she finally quits this,
at 3h. A.M. on the 2Sth, it is toenter Aries (" The Seasons Pictured, '
plate xxiii.). At 5h. A.M. on the 29th she, for the second time this
month, leaves Aries for Taurus, and has not completed her journey
through the last-named constellation when our notes terminate.

NOVEMBEE 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

23

d^ur a2af)i>t Column.

By "Five op Clubs."

CLEVEELY B.\D I'LAT.

HAVE given some attention for a long time past to
the way in which good play at whist prevails over
had play : so that although for an evening, or even
for several days, inferior play may secure the greater
number of points, in the long run better play tells,
and a certain percentage of advance infallibly shows
itself ere many hundreds of points on either side
have been scored. Nearly always, I have observed,
the moie scientific play (by which I do not refer to
as knowing all the settled details of plaj- — the
'echo," the "penultimate," and so forth, but follow-

such details
" signal," the

ing true strategic principles) succeeds most notably against those
points on which the unscientific player is most apt to pride himself.
Among these are : — (1) Playing for ruffs; (2) drawing two trumps
for one when the enemy have declared great strength in trumps :
(3) always declining to force the enemy; (1) putting off play by
which a sure trick will go to the enemy — though nothing can
prevent the trick so going, and it may be of es.-ential impor'ance to
throw the lead into his hand at the moment ; but there are many
other clever dodges which are sure ways to failure in the long run,
though they may turn out well perhaps five or six times in a score
of trials.

But nothing shows the whist player better the value of sound
play than to play for a while with a partner who does not under-
stand the true principles of whist strategy, and puts trust in
unsound dodges. Especially, while as yet he is unaware of his
partner's foibles, does he suffer ; for with a partner of known
ineptitude he. of course, does not attempt the higher strategy,
knowing that his plans will inevitably be knocked on the head.

Here is an example, which I will not put into tabular form, but
describe it as it presented itself — unpleasantly — to my attention.

I was the original leader, and, on examining my hand, found that
it contained the following pleasing set of cards (the ace of spades
having been turned on my right) : —

Sjiades— queen, ten. nine, four, three ; diamonds — king, queen,
knave, ten, eight ; hearts — ace ; and (•/«/'.«— king, nine.

This was a charming hand to play, with a good partner, holding a
fair supporting hand. The object to be aimed at, of course, is to
bring in the long diamonds : and with five trumps, heart ace, and a
guarded king in clubs, this seems very likely to be brought off.
[The score was " One all."] Had I been free to look at my partner's
hand in this case, I should have made sure of bringing it off with
ease, unless he proved to tie a very weak player. Let us see what
happened : —

t)i course I led a spade, the original fourth best trump ; a small
trump fell on my left; my partner played the knave; and the
trump card, the ace, took the trick. My right-hand opponent, Z,
led heart five ; my ace took the trick ; and four and three fell from
T and B, showing that two must be with Z ; and, of course, three
others, since he had led his fourth best. I now naturally led the
spade queen, the three high trumps left in my hand being now in
sequence. King took it on my right, my partner played a small
trump, and Z renounced. This renounce looked, of course, un-
favourable for my plans ; in fact, I could tell that Y either held two
more or three: if he only held two, however, I was s ill sure of
success in bringing in my diamonds, provided my partner played
rightly. Y returned his partner heart six (the lowest left, except
Z's two), my partner took the trick with the king, Z played the two,
and I discarded club nine.

At this stage tlie game was won. Jly partner held another small
trump. We had already made two trices to the enemy's two. If
my partner led his trump I should have made two inore tricks,
extracting both Y''s ; have led diamond king, which Y would have
taken with tbe singleton ace he held ; and on his leading a heart
(his only reasonable lead, but it was indiff'erent what he held, as
my partner held club ace) I should have ruffed and made mv four
remaining diamonds, the last trick going to my partner's club ace.
We should thus have made four by tricks.

But my partner deliberately committed the atrocity of forcinc
me (original trump leader though I was 1) by leading a heart, on
which Z put a little one, so that I had not even the satisfaction of
ruffing the best heart, yet was unable to resist the force, as I could
place two more hearts in Y"s hand, so that the force could be
repeated by him, and then by Z. (The inexperienced whist-player
may ask how I knew Y had two hearts left : simply because my
partner not leading the best, Z's play showed he knew Y could take
the trick, which at once made his return of the lowest at the fotirth

trick indicate three hearts then in hand, for every good player
returns the lowest of three, the highest of two.) I therefore
ruffed, and now, play as I might, we could make only two by tricks.
I led my diamond king ; Y' took with the ace, and, forcing me in
hearts, remained with two trumps to my one. It I had taken out
both his trumps, and then led diamond king, he would have brought
in his part.ner's hearts, and we should have fared worse. If I had
taken out but one of his trumps and then played the diamond
king, he could have forced out my last trump with a heart, and on
ruflirg my diamond queen would have led his remaining heart.

My partner's reason for his atrocious play was that he saw a
chance of giving me a ruff, and making one of his own trumps in
a ruff. For the chance of one trick (my rui", of course, was not a
trick gained) he — the weak hand — ruined (instead of helping) the
play of his strong-handed partner.

It is because of such iniquities as these that Deschapelles said
good players of their own hand are detestable partners.

From some statistics I have been collecting now for two or three
yeas 1 have been led to the conclusion that, while simply know-
nothing partners lose about one trick in ten, clever playtis of their
own hand lose about one trick in s^ven.

LoNDOX Fogs. — Mr. Ernest Hart, of the Smoke Abatement
Institute, fears that London will always suffer from fogs, because
it is placed in a river valUy, on a clay soil, and is bordered on the
Essex side by low-lying lands very imperfectly drained, and on the
north side by the Harrow Weald. The fogs generated— the results
of damp exhalations — are greatly aggravated b3- the parks, most of
which require draining. But if the smoke is got rid of, the fogs
will be much less dense.

d^ur CI)f£!si Column.

By " Mephisto.''

MATCH, BLACKBUEN'E v. GCNSBERG.
The following games are the first four played in this match at
Bradford : —

GAME I.— (Four Knights.)

WnrrE.

Black.

WnriE

Black.

GnDSberg.

Blackburne.

Gansberg.

Blackburne.

1.

PtoK4

P to K4

19.

P to KE4

P to KB4

.>^

Kt to QB3

Kt to KB3

(Ih.)

3.

Kt to KB3

Kt toQB3

20.

KPxP

PxP

i.

PtoQR3(a)

P to Q3

21.

Pto E5

P to KB5 ((■) !

5.

P to E3

B toK2

(55m )

(Ih. 15m.)

6.

P to Qi (i)

Castles (c)

22.

P to E6

E to Ktsq

7.

P to Q5

Kt to Ktsq

(Ih.)

S.

B toK3

Kt to Ksq (d )

23.

Kt to E5

R to KB2

9.

PtoKKt-l(e) K to Esq

24.

B to Q3

Bto B4

(17m.-)

(24m.)

25.

B X B (i)

Ex B

10.

QtoQ2

P to QB4

26.

Qto Q3

E(B4) toBsq

11.

Kt to K2 (/ )

P to QKt4

27.

P to Kt6

E X P (A)

12.

Kt to Kt3

P to QE3

Ih. 25m.)

(Ih. 44m.)

13.

B toK2

P to Kt3

28.

ExR

PxR

14.

Bto R6

E to Ktsq

29.

Kt to E4

PxKt

15.

Castles, QE(^)B to B3

30.

KttoKt6(ch)

K to Ktsq

16.

QB to Ktsq

E toR2

31.

P to E7 (ch)

KxP

17.

P TO Kt.5

B to KKt2

32.

KttoK7

Resigns,

18.

B X B (ch)

ExB(*)

(dis ch)

(42m.)

(56m.)

(Ih. 30m)

(Ih.SOm.)

Notes by Messrs. Blackbcbne axd Guxsberg.

(a) The usual continuation here is B to Kt5, as played in the late
Steinitz v. Zukertort match.

(i) The game develops itself into a Philidor.

(c) Mr. Blackburne now thinks PxP preferable.

{d) P to B3 would have been better.

(e) To prevent P to KB4.

(/) It would not have been advisable to castle too early on the
Queen's side.

(_g) Now \Mute is sufficiently developed to castle on the Queen's
side.

(A) If Kt had taken B, Black would have had two weak spots on
KB3 and KE3.

(!) If P moved to K5, White gets a strong attack by P to E6,
followed by Q to B3, .\:c

(j) Kt X BP would also have been a strong continuation, leading
to a good many pretty variations, i.e., if 2."). Kt x BP, B x B,
26. Kt to KB. to be followed by Q x B, ic.

(*) If P X P, White answers by P to E7, which would prove fatal
to Black.

24

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1887.

GAME II.— (Scotch Gambit.)

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.

10.
11.
12.
13.
U.

White. Black. White. Black.

Black hurne. Hunsberg. Blackburue. GuEsberg.

P to K4 P to Ki (Ih.)

Kt to KB3 Kt to QB3 21. Q to Bsq QR to KB2

P to Ql P X P 22. Kt to K2 Q x Q

KtxP B to m 23. BxQ KttoKS

B to K3 Q to KB3 1 24. QK to Qsq P to KR4

P to QB3 KKt to K2 25. P to KR4 Kt to R3

Q to Q2 P to QR3 (a) 26. B to K3 Kt to Kto

P to KB4 (A) B X Kt ((■) 27. R X R R x R

P X B P to Q4 (Ih. 45m ) (59ra.)

(Im.) (10m) 28. RtoQ3 P to KKt3

P to K5 Q to Kt3 29. R to Kl3 (/() P to Kt3

B to Q3 B to B4 30. R to B3 P to B4

B X B Kt X B 31. P X P Kt X B

Castles Castles KR((i) 32. R x Kt P x P

KttoQB3 QRtoQsq .33. R to KKtS PtoKt4(;)

15. QRtoQBsq(e) PtoKB3(/") .34. Kt to B3 PtoQ.5(/)

IB. BtoB2 PxP 35. Kt to K4 R to B4 ('//)

17. BPxP(7) RtoQ2 36. KtxKtP Kt x Kt

18. Kt to K2 Kt to Qsq 37. R x Kt(ch) R x R

(45m.) (29m.) 38. P x R K to B2

19. Kt to B4 Q to R3 39. K to B2 P to R4

20. QR to Q.-q P to B3 40. P to QKt3 Resigns (l)

(2h.) (Ih. 40m.)

(a) Castling, instead of the test move, is recommended by the
German masters.
(J) Is often played, bat never previously by Mr. Blackburne.

(c) Best.

(d ) Castling on the Queen's side would have been dangerous,
owing to Black's open QB file.

(e) To keep Black's QKt on QB3.
(/) A good move.

(0) QP taking would have been the better move.
(/() P to Kt4 is far the better move.

(i) Here K to Kt2 ought to have been played by Black ; the text
move was quite an unnecessary venture.

(,/) R to Q2 would still have saved the game.

(/.■) Kt to B5 might have given Mr. Gunsberg more chances to
draw.

(1) The'loss of the game, owing to the two passed Pawns, is now
inevitable, the Black King being unable to approach either of them.

White.
Giiiisbei-,^.

1. P to K4

2. Kt to KB3

3. B to B4

4. P to Q3

5. B to K3

6. Kt to B3 (a)

7. Q to K2 (*)

8. B to KKt5
Castles KR
(10m.)

PxB

B to R4

QRtoKsq(c)

P to Q4

QxB

R toK3

16. P to Q5 (/)

17. Q to Q3
Kt to Q4

(25m.)
Kt to B5

9.

10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.

18.

19.

GAME III

Black.

BlacKburne.
P to K4
Kt to QB3
B to B4
Kt to B3
B to Kt3
P to Q3
Castles (c)
B to R4 ((i)
B X Kt

(25m.)
P to KR3
Q to K2
B to K3
Bx B
QR to Ksq
K to R2
Kt to ()R4
R to KKisq
P to KKt4 (f/)

(59m.)
Q to Bsq
(Ih.)
R to Kt3

(Giuoco Piano.)
( White.

1 GuiisbLTg.

Q to K2 (/()

P to KB3 ()■)

(46m.)

Q to R6 ( j)

QxP

P to QB4

R to R3 (/)

B to B2

(Ih.)

P to B4 («)

QxR

RxQ

BxKt

PxKP

P to Q6 (/;)

KtxP

35. R X P i^ch)

36. R to B2
(lb. 26m.)

37. R to Bsq

38. KxR
(Ih. 30m.)

Agreed to draw.

Black.

Blackburne.
P to QKt3
Kt to Kt2

(Ih. 2lm.)
QR to Ktsq
Kt to Q2
KKt to B4 (/.-)
KR to Kt sq
Q to Qsq (m)

(Ih. 53m.)
QR to Rsq (<))
QxQ
RxR
Kt xB
PxP
PxP
RxP
K to Kt3
R to R8 (ch)

(lb. 58m.)
RxR(fl)
K to B3
(2h.)

20. B to Kt3

(a) Blackburne usually plays QKt to Q2, or P to B3.

(J) Q to Q2 deserves consideration.

(e) P to KR3 would possibly have avoided some immediate
trouble.

UD Necessary. If Black plays, 8 ... B to K3, 9Kt to Q5,
B x Kt, lOB X B.

((') To prepare for P to Q4.

(/") BxKt would have been much better, for if P retakes
Kt'to R4 and B5, but, if Q takes, P to Q5, winning the BP.

(7) Black dare not take, for, if P x Kt, P to K5 (dis. ch.) wins.

(/() P to B3 at once would have been better.

(i) If P to R4, Black answers P to Kt5.

(_;') The endeavour to gain RP loses too much time.

(?t) Threatening to win the Q.

(0 Q to R3 would have been much better, as it would have
avoided all subsequent complications.

(j«) Intending Kt to R4 and R to QRsq.

(«) The only move, for if B x Kt instead Kt retakes, followed by
R to Kt2, and wins the Queen

(y) White threatens R to R3, retiring his Q to R3. Nevertheless
Black mifiht have played Kt to R4, for, if White plays R to R3, he
should play R to Kt3, and it is difficult to see how White's Q could
have been saved.

(p) All these moves require a great deal of exactitude. Black
must play PxP, although White's Kt gets into a strong position in
consequence.

(q} With the safe purpose of drawing.

10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.

19.

WHrTE.
Blackburne.
P to K4
Kt to KB3
B to Kt5
Castles
P to Q4 (J)
R to Ksq
BxKt
Kt X P (c)
P to QB3

(20m.)
Kt to Q3
B to B4
Kt to Q2
BxB
KKt to B4
Kt to Bsq
Kt to K3
P to B3
Q to Q2

(45ra,)
R to K2

20. QR to Ksq

GAME IV.-

Bl,\ck.

Gunsberg.

P to K4

Kt to QB.3

Kt to B3

Kt X P (fl.)

B toK2

Kt to Q3

QPxP

Castles

P to B3
(13m.)

Kt to B2

B to Q3

B to KB4

PxB

Q toQ2

Pto Q4

KR to Ksq

Kt to Q3

B to K3
(27m.)

B to B2

R toK2

-(RUY

21.
22.

23.
24.
25.
26.

27.

28.
29,
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.

37.
38.

Lopez.)

White. Black.

Blackburne. Gunsberg.

P to QKt3 QR to Ksq

Kt to Q3 P to QKt3

(Ih)
Kt to Kt2(«!)Kt to Kt4 (c)

P to QR4 Kt to B2

KttoQ3 BtoKt3(f)

Kt to KB4 Q 10 Q3

P to Kt3
(Ih. 2fim.)
P to R4 (0

Q to Q2 (,,/) (A)

(Ih 14m.)
B to B2

PtoKKt4(;)Qto Q3 (k)
Kt to B5 (/) RxR

RxB
KtxR (m)
Kt to B4
Kt to K3 («)
PxP
Kt to B5

(2h.)
Q to K3
KtxQ
(2h. Im.)

R X It.

Q to Q2

P to KR4 (n)

PxP

Q to K2 (p)

Q to K5 (q)

(Ih. 47m.)
QxQ
Agree to draw

(Ih. 52m.)

(a.) The Berlin defence.

(b) Steinitz, in his game with Zukertort, here innovated R to Ksq,
followed by Kt x P and B to Q3.

(c) If White plays PxP, Black's answer will be Kt to Bl, when
the exchange of Q's would not give any advantage to White.

(</) All this subtle mameuvring is for the purpose of accjuiring
advantages in position, and to avoid a draw by exchanges.

()') To compel White's 24th move.

(/) Trying to exchange B for Kt.

Iff) The position now is of such a nature that Black dare not
attempt any advance.

(A) Both players think P to QB4 too risky.

(j) A very promising line of play.

(;■) P to R5 deserves consideration.

Ik) This stops White's threatening advance.

(l) If White played QKt to Kt2, Black might reply Q to Kt 6.

(;«) White dare not take Q.

(«) This timely move assists in stopping what there might be left
of White's attack.

(«) If Q to KKt2, White had a little more chance.

Ip) To get the open tile and prevent P to Kt5.

(1/) It would not have been safe to leave Black's Q unmolested.

Contents of No. 24.

PAGE

Human Life 265

Pleasant Hours with the Micro-

scope. Bv Henry J. Stick 267

Height of Clouds. By Dr. R. F.

Hutchinson 268

Fire- Worship 269

The Blanket-Fish 270

The One-Scale Atlas 271

The Southern Skies 272

The Man in the Moon. By " Stella

Occidens" 273

Americanisms 274

PAGE

Strange Chances 276

The Naturalist's Laboratory 278

Varying Aspects of the Earth's

Globe 279

Gossip 282

Reviews 282

The Face of the Sky for October.

By F.R.A.S 286

Our Whist Column. By '*Five of

Olnbs" 287

Oar Chess Column. By "Me-

phistn " 287

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

■* Knowledge'* as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore filtered
ai follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

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To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c 14 0

To any address in tho United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada. United States,
and Bcypt, the Subscription is 7a. 6d.. as heretofore.

December 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

25

^ 1LLUSTRATE|^MAGAZINE ^
SCiENCE,UTERATURE,& A]

LONDON: DECEMBER 1, 1887.

SHAKESPEARE'S INDUSTRY.

HROUGHOUT the length and breadth of
the United States, in almost every news-
paper and magazine, attention has been
directed, with approval or the reverse, to
the recently renewed attacks which a Mr.
Ignatius Donnelly has made upon the fame
and name of Shakespeare. The tone of
many of the comments in Mr. Donnelly's imagined dis-
covery of a cypher in the Folio of 1623, the interpretation
of which shows Bacon to have been the real author of the
Shakespeare plays, recalls the exclamation of certain ardent
Scotsmen after the first performance of Home's " Douglas,"
" Whaur's Wullie Shakespeare noo 1 " But it is pleasant to
notice that all in America whose opinion can be of any
weight consider gentle Will to be where he ever was —
enshrined in the hearts of men of English blood, not only
as the greatest dramatic poet the world has known, but as
one whose works reveal him (almost despite himself, true
dramatist that he was) as a man of most lovable nature.
The only fault one can find with writers of the latter sort is
that they should attach any importance to INIr. Donnelly's
nonsensical cypher, the published readings from which are
as much like the English of Francis Bacon as the eloquence
of a stump orator in the Far West is like the language of a
Walter Raleigh. " I was in the greatest fear that they
would say that I was," kc, kc, is the beginning of the first
sentence attributed by Mr. Donnelly to Francis Bacon 1 He
might as reasonably have attributed it to Roger Bacon or
to a Saxon chronicler.

But my purpose is not to follow American writers in
discussing either favourably or unfavourably the B.aconian
theory of Shakespeare's plays — a theory born dead ; and
still less in commenting on the Donnelly development of
the theoi-y, a development whose condition is beyond that
of the death stage. I wish to touch on what is un-
doubtedly the great marvel and mystery of Shake-
speax-e's career, a marvel so great that one almost wondeis
some mythic developments have not by this time come to
surround the story of the poet's life; and I propose to con-
sider as serving to diminish the marvel, a piece of evidfnce
in regard to Shakespeare's career, which, though well
known, lias never, so far as I know, been read as I am about
to read it now.

The great difficulty about Shakespeare has always been
that a man with opportunities so imperfect, with a training
presumably so insufiicient, should be found, within a few
years of his leaving Stratford, already high in repute nmong
playwrights, when as yet no poem of his had been published.
If we can get over this we can readily understand
Shakespeare's rapid advance as something more than a
playwright ; because we should thus have evidence of
dramatic potency (so to describe the special faculty which

Shakespeare, beyond all other men, possessed) sufilcient to
account even for that amazing progress whicii soon set
Shakespeare as far in advance of Marlowe as Marlowe was
in advance of Lilly. Deal with Shakespeare as we may, he
must remain ever a marvel among men ; but if we were to
accept the opinion of Emerson that Shakespeare was a
miracle, we should lose somewhat of our interest in him as
a man. It will suffice that we should regard him as
towering high above all other dramatic poets, even as
Gauris-Ankar towers high above Kinchin-Gunga, Dhawala
Giri, and the lofty peaks of the Knot of Tsunling : we need
not regard his greatness as miraciUous any more than we
need imagine that the loftiest peak of the Himalayas was
raised to its present height by the efibrts of an imprisoned
Titan.

After all, the chief difficulty, if we consider the matter
aright, has been in the assumed wildness of Shakespeare's
youth, and the inference that what he did he achieved with
little efibrt. That " infinite capacity for taking pains,"
which is characteristic of genius, has been supposed wanting
in Shakespeare's case ; and men wonder not only or chiefly
that he should have attained the poetic power he presently
displayed, but that he should display correct if not very
profound knowledge in a number of subjects — law, medi-
cine, surgery, physics, horticulture, history, languages, and
so forth — about which he could have learned little in his
boyhood and youth.

But we have evidence of an especially satisfactory kind,
since it comes from an avowed enemy, to show that Shake-
speare mu.st Lave had just those cjualities which, wiih his
innate genius, were alone needed for the acquirement of the
knowledge he possessed and the judgment he displayed very
soon after his career as actor and dramatist had begun. We
learn enough to show that so far from being idle and dis-
solute, as Donnelly and other detractors pretend, he must
have been patient and industrious to a remarkable degree.

The evidence I refer to is that which has been often
quoted against Shakespeare — the words in which the dying
dramatist Greene warns his fellow-actors and playwrights
against the rising poet, whose future fame he evidently ibre-
saw and envied : — " There is an upstart crow," he tells
certain of his fellow-playwrights — probably Marlowe, Peele,
and Nash — " beautified with our feathers, that, with his
tijgers lieart vrapt in a playci-'s /tide, supposes he is as well
able to bumbast out a blanke verse as the best of you ; and,
being an absolute Johannes Factvhim, is in his own conceit
the only Shake-scene in a country." How this should have
come to be regarded as injurious to Shakespeai'e's fame, and
how the real though unconscious tribute to his merit in-
volved in it should have been overlooked, I find it difficult
to understand. But certain it is that while this passage has
been eagerly quoted by detiactors, the lovers of Shakespeare
have regarded it as involving an attack from which he needs
to be defended.

Now, it is obvious to begin with that Greene was full of
anger and bitterness when he wrote his " Groat's worth of
Wit bought with a Million of Repentance." A dissolute
life, to use no harsher expression (where, however, a much
harsher expression might bo used, when we consider his
treatment of his wife), had brought him to a wretched
death, on a borrowed bed, where still his thoughts turned
towards the poetic fame he had sought, insomuch that his
last injunction to the shoemaker's wife, on whose bed he lay
dying, was that she would crown his corpse with bays I He
had earned considerable fame as a dramatist ; indeed, despite
his bombast and aflectation, his plays indicate a brilliant
fancy and marked dramatic power. He probably thought
himself the equal of Marlowe, though he was far from that,
and therefore superior to all others. The rising fame of

26

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

Shakespeare would naturally hs a sore point with him,
especially when his mind, already diseased, was weakened
by the approach of death. I suspect there was also special
cause of anger against Shakespeare, who at this time (1592)
had probably already worked in collaboration with Marlowe
over plays of Greene's own ; if so, Shakespeare must have
been led to point out defects where Greene could see only
beauties. Shakespeare's real offence probably was, not that
he thought himself able to " bumbast out a blanke verse,"
but that he had taken out the bombast from blank verse of
Greene's. To a man of Greene's nature that would have
been an unpardonable offence.

Yet Greene could find nothing worse to say of Shake-
speare, after calling him " an upstart crow " — a mere ebulli-
tion of temper — than that he was only the general business
man, the man of all work of the theatre, and not the
dramatist he thought himself. Think how much genuine
modesty it implies on Shakespeare's part, that, with the
power he must have recognised within himself ere this, he
s'nould only have shown so much confidence as to suggest
even to Greene's jealous mind that he thought he might
equal Greene or ISIarlowe as a playwright ! The idea that
Greene meant to suggest unfair plagiarism on Shakespeare's
part, by the reference to a line in the " Tliird Part of
Henry VI."—

0, tj-ger's heart, wrapt in a woman's bide !

(certainly borrowed, bad as it was, from the " True
■Tragedie of Richard, Duke of York ") will not be enter-
tained by those who understand under what conditions
actors of sufiioient talent woi'ked upon plays which were
the property of their theatre. While it is certain that
many passages of the " Third Part of Henry YI." were
written by Shakespeare, it is probable that he did not write
a line of the old work from which this play was recast.
Probably a third only of the modern play is his, nearly
another third altered by him and Marlowe, and rather more
than a third left unchanged. The line quoted, with slight
change, by Greene, is one of those belonging to the old
play, and is only used as being abusive, not to insinuate
that Shakespeare had stolen what was known bj' every actor
in the company to be one of more than a thousand lines
with which Shakespeare had nothing to do. More likely
than not, Shakespeare had wished the line struck out, and
had been overruled by Greene and Marlowe : certainly
Shakespeare would not liave been pleased with the use of so
coarse a word as " hide " for a woman's skin.

But while Greene's abuse implies absolutely no offence
on Shakespeare's part, except a confidence in himself which
his subsequent career splendidly justified, Greene reveals
the true secret (apart from surpassing genius) of Shake-
speare's wonderful success. Shakespeare was "an absolute
Johrmnes Factolum." Whatever his hand found to do he
did it with his might. Greene had trusted in genius —
having, indeed, only talent — and had failed. Shakespeare,
full of gf.nius, had also that infinite capacity for taking
p.iins without which even the highest genius can avail little.
We need no other exiilanation of Shakespeare's career.
Possessing the profoundest poetic and dramatic insight ever
given to man, and with it abundant energy and patience, he
could not fail to become the Shakespeare known to the
world.

If wc may thank Greene for his indirect evidence (where
we possess so little evidence of any sort) respecting Shake-
speare, we may thank him still more for the dii-ect evidence
which his attack elicited, within three months, from Chettle,
his executor and publisher. " I am as sory," says Chettle,
apologising for Greene's attack, " as if the originall fault had
been my fault ; because myself have seen bis demeanor no

lesse civIU, than he exelent iu the qualitie he professes ;
besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightnes of
dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in
writting, that aprooves his art."

In studying the life and character of Shakespeare as
revealed in his writings, it is my purpose to take his plays
in the order in which, so far as we can judge, they were
produced. And since in the very beginning of his dramatic
work he was engaged in adapting and working up old
material, and even in that work was not alone — holding,
indeed, at first a subordinate position — it is in such unsatis-
factory plays as " Titus Andronicus " and all three parts of
" Henry Yl." that we must first seek for such evidence
about his own life and his own character as Shakespeare
may unconsciously have inti'oduced into his plays. Those
old imperfect plays contain less direct evidence than later
works : yet I think I shall be able to show that we can
learn from them somewhat respecting Shakespeare's patient
industry, a good deal respecting his modesty, and a little
I'especting that self-reliance which later led him, with just
reason, to prefer his own judgment in dramatic points even
to that of men whom at first he had regarded as his
teachers.

EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE.

By Ada S. Ballin.

HERE is a very large number of words, such
as I described in my last,* which have
originated iu the voluntary repetition of
the natural vocal expressions of sensation
and emotion. From these I will select a
few more which will readily suggest others
to the reader's mind.

The cry forced from us by a sharp pain
is ah or ach, whence our ache, Greek and Latin ah, in the
sense of sharp, acutus, our acute, of pain, etc., and possibly
arjon;/. The Maori aks aks is to split. To this. Key traces
also the common Greek suffix ax (af), which, according to
Pott, has the meaning of " little." Ugh is a natural expres-
sion of cold and horror, and from it Wedgwood derives the
Scotch verb to ug (hougo), to feel abhorrence, and our
adjectives ii-glij and ugsome, also huge : —

What his kind frightened motlier ii/;s

Is music to the sodger's lugs, — Jamieson, ,Sc. Diet.

To take another example, we find the deaf and dumb
make the sound 77i'm or 7ii'n, which they use with a shake of
the head, to mean " unable to speak," a sound produced by
breathing through closed lips. We find it again in the
expression, " Mum's the word ;" in Quiche menier, to become
mute ; in our mumble ; in Tahitian inainu, to be silent. The
sound of closing the lips is also very naturally used to
express food or the taking of food. One of Darwin's babies,
when a year old, invented the word mum, meaning food,
and used it imperatively in the sense of " Give me food ! "
Taine's little gill, imitating the sound of snapping up a
morsel of food, in her fourteenth month, produced the word
hioiim, which she used to communicate the fact that she was
hungry or thirsty. This word, being repeated by her parents
in a milder form, lost its original forcible pronunciation, and
was modified to am, a good example of the manner in which
imitative words may become conventional. In the Negro-
English of Surinam 7ija7ii [nt/am) is " to eat," 7ija7)i-7ijam
food. In the African Susu dialect Tii/nnim is " to taste ; "
Zulu Tiemhita to smack the lips after tasting, hence to be

* Knowledse, vol. X. p. 129.

December 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGK

27

iisty, and, figuratively, pleasant to the niind. The Chinese
child-word for eating is yuan, English nim. The Swedish
dictionary recognises nam-nam as a word for tit-bit, and I
well remember in the first pantomime I ever saw — " Puss
in Boots " — the Puss, which had stolen some honey, making
use of the expression : —

Nnm-num, isn't it nice,

A flavour far superior to mice ?

an expression which, by the by, found its way into my
family on that occasion, and has survived witli us ever
since. A little tbree-year-old friend of mine calls everytliing
that she considers nice munmi/na. Such imitative words
are readily formed by children, and sometimes survive by
being taken up and repeated by the elders of the family ;
but they generally disappear when the ordinary word ap-
plied to the object indicated is fcxught to the little ore.

As regards the second class, that of words derived by
imitation of sounds produced by animals other than man, a
great deal has been said by all writers on language, so much
so indeed that a favourite theory of the origin of language
has been nicknamed by Professor Max Miiller the " Bow-
wow theory." A very few instances will therefore suffice
for my present purpose.

In Enghsh, animals are rarely named from their sounds,
except in the language of the nursery, as mov, cow ; baa,
lamb, sheep ; botv-icoic, dog ; and similar instances might be
cited from other European languages. To show how general
this tendency is we may observe that the natives of the
north-east coast of Papua call a dog hoir-voir ■, in Au.s-
tralian iu-onk is frog ; in Coptic leio, ass ; in Chinese maou,
cat. Corresponding with the English bumble-bee we find
Sanskrit banibhardti, a fly ; Greek bombulos, Australian
humberoo, from the buzzing sound produced by the motion
of the creature's wings through the air. Corresponding
with our cock, nursery cockadoodeldoo, we find in the
Spanish nursery language qtdqiiiriqui, Yoruba koHo, Ibo
okoko, Zulu kiiku, Finnish kiikku, Sanskrit kukkiilta. M.
Taine's little girl used the word koko for chicken (in French
nursery language this is a general word for bird), mia-ova
for dog, and mia for cat, imitating as nearly as possible the
utterances of the creatures themselves. When the cat was
introduced into Egypt from Xubia, the Egyptians called it
miaii.

The third class mentioned in my l^st article, that of
words derived from imitation of sounds produced by motions
of inanimate things, is obviously a very large one, far
exceeding the other two classes in extent. Thus we have
the rush of air, the sv-ish of water against obstacles, the roar
of waves, the sigh of the breeze, the min'mtir of the sea at
rest, the jAash of its wavelets on the pebbles of the beach,
and so on. To come to less poetical examples, we have
the crasli of broken glass, the slaj) of flesh again.st flesh, the
bang of a door or explosion, the ^«'?i;/ of a bullet, the sriap of
fingers or a clasp, the tingling o/ an ear which las been
boxed (a subjective sound, the imitation of which Las given
a name to the tingling of any part of the body, other than
the ear, that has been struck), the pop of a pop-covn or /'Cj7-
gun — a word which by similarity, based on the idea of
quick motion, has been applied to the poji/ting of anything
into one's pocket or elsewhere; and by similarity, lased on
the idea of explosive force, to the jwpping of a certain
momentous question. Again, we have the blazing of a fire,
and " Go to blazes ! " is a polite intimation that the person
addressed may retire to warmer regions. Then we have
" the smasher-and-banger " school of musicians. To kick is
a seemingly imitative word, as also to grumble, grov:l, moan,
groan ; to dot, as with a pencil on paper and jot down
notes; to brrish, ivash, sireep, rub, clap the hands, /o/^ out
the tongue — a word applied also to lolling on a sofa, for

example, the idea of limpness giving rise to this transference.
From the imitation of the sound of rapid revolution in
air we have the word p-hirr, whence German trirren, to
twist ; French virer, English veer, as a ship or weather-
cock: ichirl, whorl, varp, vorm, in the sense of icriggler,
whence, also, the derivative vorm of a screw oi- helix.
The sound is heard also in %mthe, wreath, lortnch, wrest,
wrist, wring, v:rap, wry ; Latin, varus (with crooked
legs), varices ; English, varicose veins, vermis, verminari,
to breed worms or wi-ithe in pain — the Latin sound,
which we represent by v, being more properly a iv. Our
words vermilion, carmine, and crimson, which now ex-
press pure ideas of sight, are due to a word which appears
in Latin as vermis, in Sanskrit as krimi, a worm, the
colour being anciently obtained from a shell-fish, which,
when removed from the shell, resembles a worm in appear-
ance. To take another example, the sound of scratching
may be represented by kar or cliar (Greek x) ; in Latin,
car-ere or c«j'pere lanam is to card wool; crn-duus the teasel,
German krompal. The participle castus from this verb,
ca)'-ere, in the sense of to purify, gives rises to our chaste,
an abstract word, which at first sight certainly does not
appear to have an imitative origin. In Greek, from the
same sound come the woi'ds charasso, charakter, skariphiio —
our scar, scrape, scarify, scratch ; Norse scratha ; German
kraizen ; French gratter, whence our grate, and the Greek
grnphv, to write (really to scratch with a stylus) ; Latin
scrib-ere; German graben; Dutch krabelin; and English
scribble ; with a host of other derivatives, many of which
have by phonetic change lost all apparent sign of their
origin. Endless examples of this kind might be adduced
both from ancient and modern languages, and the process of
making words by imitation of natural sounds is stiU
adopted.

New words imitative of sounds are coined every day
among ourselves. A curious instance of this struck me some
time ago, and I noted it down. Mr. E. J. Shepherd,
writing to the Za?ice< (December 12, 1884) the description
of an operation for strangulated hernia, said: "The stric-
ture was at the neck and yielded to the edge of the knife
with an audible snick." * The italics are my own. In
" Numa Roume-stan " M. Daudet depicts an old French lady
who is somewhat original in her speech, and refers for
example to "Cent mille francs en bon argent <iH-i^!«," thus
illustrating the ring of the true metal, and the fact of the
money being paid cash down. She also calls a certain
musician " Ce joueur de tutu- pan pan," upon which Daudet
remarks, " Ce ' tutu-panpan ' rendait si bien le double
instrument, fifre et tambour, que Eoumestan se mit a rire"
(p. 65). The word tambour is itself imitative of the sound
produced by the striking of parchment or some similar
membrane ; it is also seen in our tambourine, drum. The
sound of bleating is also expressed by the Eastern tom-tcm,
Javan tumbvk, Coptic tinno, to pound in a mortar, Malay
timpa tamjKi, to beat out, hammer, forge ; Chinook jargon
tmn-tiim, the heart, ium-Uiita, waterfall. The Gallas of East
Africa say, " tum-ium bufa-lvfti," the workman blows the
bellows, a phrase which would be similarly rendered by an
English child as: "The turn luvi (or man that hammers)
puffs the puffer." To smile or strike is in Sanskrit tup,
tubh, Greek tup, tump, whence tympanum, a drum. The
Gallas call a box on the ear tub-djcda (to say tub), while
luma with them means to beat, and fiimtu, as I have
said, a workman. Our word to patter is evidently imita-
tive, French pattatra. In Australian, badbadin equals
our pitpatting. The old word patterero, an old-fashioned

* There is an obsolete English word snicJi, meaning a small cut
or notch, the origin of which is suggested by the above. It is not
at all likely that Mr. Shepherd had it in his mind, however.

28

♦ KNOV\rLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

cannon for throwing grape-shot, is apparently imitative in
sound, and its form was probably induenced by imitation,
but the real derivation was pedrero, Spanish piedra, Fr.
pierre, a stone. Oar word to murmur is clearly imitative,
and with it may be compared the Tamil muru-muru.

The origin of such words as tvltisper, listen, Ger.Jlustern,
hicsh, -was probably imitative. Silence .' is a command ex-
pressed among the Sioux by hush-sh ! among the Yeddahs
of Ceylon by iss ! and in Japan by a hLss, with which may
be compared the Gr. sim, to hush, command silence. As
Wedgwood suggests, the savage watching for foe or prey
would hear, or fancy he heard, a rxisiling among the leaves
of the thicket or long grass, and in order to attract the
attention of his companion or companions would softly
imitate the sound, and thus produce such exclamations as
hush I whist I st 1 Arc, which would soon take their place in
speech, and give rise to derivatives, becoming at the same
time conventionalised in pronunciation.

Dr. Comrie says* that the natives of the north-east coast
of Papua, when shown an ii'on axe, named it din-din, from
the sound which it produced. When I was a little girl I
used to call hammering "dodding," and I alwaj's believed
that the old carpenter who used to work at the house, whose
name was Dodd, was so called because he " dodded."

The spirit of imitation, besides giving birth to language,
exercises a great influence upon the word after it has come
into being.

When words are reduplicated or lengthened out in order
to express degrees of comparison, the representation of
thought is practically pictorial. Thus in French heaucoup
is much, heaucouqi-hemicoup very much, and the same mode
of expression is common to the most widely different races.
Among the Dyaks kwai is strange, kwai-kwai very strange ;
huhiang is to think, hu-hjiiwj-hu-lyang to think deeply.
In Madagascar ratclii is bad, rdtclii very bad. Among the
Watchandi of Australia jir-rie means already or past,
jir-rie-jir-rie, a long time ago, and with much lengthening
of the first syllable, jie-r-rie-jirrie an immense time ago. A
Brazilian tribe has the word ouatou for stream, which
becomes otiatou-ou-ou-ou for sea. The Aponegicrans for
" six " use a word itaivunn, and for " seven " itawuuna-=:a
long six.

A child relation of Wedgwood's used the word
"baby" as a diminutival prefix. Baby Thomas was the
smaller of two men-servants of that name. To express
further diminution, he nan-owed the sound to beebee, and
very small objects became beebee-heebee tilings. This word
is probably connected with ivee, and a baby friend of mine
is always called Wee-Wee. Reduplication seems naturally to
convey the idea of repetition, continuance, or an increased
degree of the state indicated, e.ij. tin>/=^smaM, tiny iiny=
very small.

In Maori puka is to pant, puka.puha the lungs ; muka
flax ; muka-muka to wipe, rub, for which flax is employed ;
mura to flame, muramura a flame. In jSIalay ai/un is to
rock, and ayunayunan a cradle. In Africa the Wolof
dialect has sopa to love, sopsopa to love constantly, and
Mpongwe has kewlu to walk, and kendagenda to walk
about for amusement. In Dayak kakd-kaka means to
continue laughing loudly."

In Chinese, frequentatives or the repetition and continua-
tion of an action are expressed by repeating the primitive
syllable, as mo-?«o = to go on rubbing; ho-ho^bo keep on
drinking; t'ia a- t'iau — to jump about. The repetition,
however, sometimes serves to intensify the meaning of the
primitive. It gives the notion of "a good many," "all,"
" every," to a single, as jin, man, jin-jin, everybody,

* " Journal of the Anthrop. Inst.," vi. 2 (Oct, 1879).

all men or most men ; jl, A&y, ji-ji, daily ; chi^-che sCing-
p'tng, each (animal) is sick ; shl-shl k'o-lien, truly to be
pitied ; ti tsiu-liidni-liii'ini, completely intoxicated.

Similarly in colloquial speech, we say, " He went on
write, write, write ; " "I like it very, very much ; " " Oh,
go on, talk, talk, talk," and so on.

In the early stages of language there seems to have gene-
rally prevailed a love of reduplication for the mere pleasure
of repstitiou, as well as for the sake of greater clearness and
pictorial eSect. In South America there is a river Bio-bio,
a rodent tuco-tuco, and so on ; and the Maori dictionary is
full of words of such formation as mati-mati, toe; emi-emi,
tree ; dki-dki, to urge ; and dti-dli, to drive away. In
Hebrew the superlative is formed by repetition of the ad-
jective. In Breton from 7ndd comes mdd-mdd, best ; from
fidl, bad, fall-fall, worst. The French have bon-bons,
goodies. Reduplication seems, therefore, to intensify an
action or quality ; and duration of time, as well as large-
ness and smallness of dimension (intensification), is also ex-
pressed by the lengthening out of vowels.

With regard to the long vowel of the present ten.ses of
Latin and Greek verbs, in place of the short vowels of the
stems, and the strengthening of the final consonant, it has
been suggested that its origin is really imitative, denoting
the duration of the act, as when we say, " He came creeeping
along,"or" He draairls out his words." Thus, phalno, scr'ibo,
dlco. While, on the other hand, the short penult of etupon,
elabon, elathon, &c., agrees with the momentaiy nature of
the act.f

In the many words and roots which I have mentioned,
and in thousands of others which I might record if space
permitted, the imitative or pictorial origin is clear ; and as
I have shown + that the trace of the origin of words is
easily and most frequently obliterated by the growth and
wear aud tear of language, the inference is patent that
imitation must have played a most important part, if not
the most important part in the first development of speech.

AMERICANISMS.

Gobbler, for a turkey cock, is probably no more an
Americanism than Bow-irow for a dog. Readers of "The
Pioneers" will remember how the owner of the unlucky
turkey to be shot at by Leatherstocking and the big
Vermonter calls to his bird, " Poss up a gobbler." The
expression belongs i-ather to nigger patois than to American
English.

Go. A State is said to go Democi'atic, or to go Repub-
lican, when it votes for one or the other cause after being
for a time doubtful, or on the other side.

Go BV, To. To stay ; not to go by, as we understand
the words in England. This peculiar usage belongs to the
Southern States. The exj^lanation is not .so diflicult as
might b3 expected. Where in journeying a traveller has a
choice of ways, as in the South is generally the case, a
friend will say to him, " Go by my plantation and stay with
me," meaning simply choose that way. Later such a re-
quest would be shortened into "Go by aud stay with me."
Southerners do well to get a convenient expression for such
cases, seeing that they are of all men in the world the most
hospitable and generous.

Go FOR, To. To go for any one, in the sense of attack-
ing him, appears to be an expression of Southern origin,
though now heard commonly enough all over the States.

t T. H. Key, " Language : its Origin and Development," 1874,
p. 144.
{ Knowledge, vol. ix., p. 85 et seq. ; p. 141 et sei^.

December 1, 18S7.]

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

29

It may possibly have been suggested by those Southern
duels in which the combatants were left free to seek for
each other over a wide tract of country. For if a Southerner's
generosity knows no limit, neither does his combativeness,
when he considers it j ustifiably excited.

Go IT ALONE, To. In euchre a player may decide to
play the hand alone, his partner turning down his cards
(sometimes after giving the best card to the lone player, who
then discards his worst). Success in such a case counts
double, as also does failure. A player who thus decides to
play alone, is said to " go it alone," and a similar expression
is applied to one who decides to carry out any business
operation on his own sole responsibility, and without help
from others.

Go IT Blind, To. At poker a player who bets on his
hand before seeing it is said to "go it blind," and the usage
is extended to any one who in any undertaking trusts I lindly
to chance.

Golly ! Used euphemistically (says Bartlett I) for
"God." Dogberry could hardly have beaten this; God
forbid but God should go before such a villainous niggerism
as Golly.

Gone Case, for a person or event past hope is as much
English as Amer-ican : but

Gone Coon, for one in hopeless case, is a good Western
Americanism, simply because we have no i-acoons in the
home country.

Gone Goose, Gone GANT)ER=Gk)ne Coon: nor is "gone
gosling " different in significance, save perhaps that it
suggests a more youthful unfortunate.

GoNER=gone goose, <tc., itc. The "r" termination may
be regarded as simply the usual Teutonic way of indicating
personality. The CJreeks and Latins preferred '• s."

Good, for " well " is simply an Americanism in being a
piece of bad grammar more commonly heard in America
than in England. But the word "good" is also used in
America in a way which must be regarded as essentially
American. Thus, "Take that toddy; it will make you
feel good," by no means signifies, as an Englishman might
suppose, that imbibing the toddy will produce a virtuous
feeling (though I have known men who have mistaken
intoxication of one kind or another for saintliness) ; it
means simply that after taking the toddy you will feel, or
the toddy-maker hopes you will feel, jolly. This peculiar
usage has proved a source of perplexity in some cases, and
of amusement in others, to Englishmen passing their time
in the States, whether on pleasure or instruction bent. A
friend of mine tells how a proposition was once invitingly
made to him which, to say the least, involved no virtuous
self-abnegation, and he was urged to accept it by the plea
that " it would m.ake him feel good."

Goodies. Mr. Bartlett is good enough to inform us that
" goodies," for sweetmeats, is " provincial in Suffolk, Eng-
land." I have yet to learn of any pait of England where
sweetmeats are not called " goodits."

Goose, Sound on the. In the Southern States, in the
old slavery times, to be sound on the goose, meant to be
orthodox on the slavery question. As to the origin of the
expression, this deponent, knowing nothing, says the fame.

Goose hangs high. The. All is serene. The origin of
this expression is also lost in mystery.

Gopher. Any mining or burrowing creature seems
entitled to be called a " gopher " in the States. In the
middle States the term is usually applied to a species of
mole ; elsewhere to a kind of squiiTcl ; while in the South a
gopher is a species of land-turtle which, in the low country,
burrows in the gi'ound.

Gosh. Used in a form of oath, which Mr. Bartlett
insists on considering " euphemistic," insomuch that one is

led to wonder what he understands by " euphemism." If
" by Gosh ! " is euphemistic to Mr. Bartlett's ears, what, one
would like to know, would he regard as cacophonous ?

GoTHAJi. A name applied to New York by Washington
Irving, and now constantly employed as a synonym for the
American metropolis — so that

GoTHAMiTES are Xew Yorkers.

Go THROUGH, To. After explaining that our English
expression " to go the whole hog " is " a Western vulgarism
caught up by some late English writers " — though Cowper
long since gave the saying position — Mr. Bartlett is kind
enough to tell us that whereas Americans say this train
goes through to such and such a town, meaning — well,
meaning — that it does go through, we benighted Briti.<hers
would imagine if we heard such an expression that a tunnel
was referred to ! It might perhaps surprise him to learn
(only he is dead) that not only do we speak of a train going
through to a place, without thinking of tunnels, but we
have gone a step beyond, and devised the term " through
train " for a train that does in this way go right on to some
specified place.

Go THROUGH, To. In the sense of robbing any one of
evervthing he possesses, the verb " to go through " would
appear to be essentially American. The practice, however,
is not so limited.

Go-TO-siEETiNG as an adjective, " Go-to-meeting hat,"
" go-to-meeting clothes," kc, is as much English as Ameri-
can.

Gouge, To. To force an eye-ball out with the thumb.
This pi-actice, always, let us hope, confined to the most
brutal of the lower orders, is now no longer in vogue in any
part of the States. How much there is to choose between
gouging and shooting, I do not know. As tokens of
savagery they seem much on a par.

Gracious ! My gracious ! Gracious sakes ! and
Gracious sakes alive ! These exclamations are tolerably
familiar in England ; but Bartlett, because, like so many
others, they have been migrations, deals with them as
Americanisms of the purest water.

Grade, To. To change the level of a road by excava-
ting. I have not heard this word commonly used in this
sense in England, though it is generally used by surveyors
of roads and towns; in America the word is familiarly
used, in this its proper sense.

Graft, To. To graft boots is to repair them by adding
new leather outside the worn-out feet of the boots.

Grave-yard. Mr. Bartlett says our English ears, accus-
tomed to the word " churchyard," find " grave-yard " novel.
This, at any rate, will strike most English folk as exceed-
ingly novel.

Greaser. A term applied to Mexicans and other
Spanish-Americans by the ruder sort in the Far West.

Greasy. The pronunciation of this word with the non-
sonant or surd " s " seems to be peculiar to Americans.

Greenbacks. I^egal tender notes. These bills are for
single dollars, two dollars, five dollars, ten dollars, twenty
dollars, a hundred dollars, and higher amounts. Until
about 1877 or '78 smaller coins had their paper representa-
tives, down to ten cents, or fivepence in English money.

Grig, To. To vex or irritate. In provincial English, to
grig is to ntj) or pinch.

Gripsack. A hand-bag or satchel. Bartlett omits this
word from his Americanisms ; and I have seen it deliber-
ately quoted as the English for what Americans call a
satchel. But the word has never been used in this sense in
England, except as a borrowed Americanism. That it is
not an old-fa.shioned English word is shown by its intro-
duction as the name of a trumpet in the language of the
winged nation discovered by Peter Wilkins.

30

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

USE AND BEAUTY IN MATHEMATICS.

ilEAl)EES of Knowledge are aware that I
brought out in these pages, and have since
republished, in a single small volume, a
series of " Easy Lessons in the Differential
Calculus,' whose purpose was to encourage
young mathematicians to study a method
of calculation exceedingly useful in all
departments of research to which mathe-
matics can be applied. I did not raise the question whether
the study of mathematics is chiefly to be valued for tlie help
which mathematical methods may afford the student of
science, or for its effect in training the mind to exact reason-
ing. I simply noted that numbers w-ho have occasion to use
mathematical methods are deterred from the study of the
Differential and Integral Calculus by the sup])osition that
it is not a mathematical system readily available in
researches depending on calculation. For such studeuts
I wrote, proposing to show them that the Differential Cal-
culus is as directly availalile as an aid in scientific researches
and calculations as algebra or trigonometry. I tliink I
succeeded in showing this. In fact that I did so I can
safely infer from the large number of letters which reached
me while my " Lessons " were in progress, communications
to which, I may remark, the publication of the " Lessons"
in a volume was chiefly due.

In the Practical Teacher an exceedingly unpractical and,
to say the truth, somewhat pretentious critic reviews my
little book as if it were intended to strike a blow at a much-
loved doctrine of his own, that the learner's object in study-
ing mathematics should be " chiefly disciplinary and only
subsidiarily utilitarian " (like most critics of this type, our
"practical teacher" writes fearful English) "to acquire
that finesse of mental culture which this pursuit alone can
impart, that nice logical perception of minute differences,
the lack of which constitutes the most distinguishing
characteristic of the ill-balanced mind, to demonstrate in
short the falsity of Voltaire's foolish remark, ' J'ai toujours
remarque que la geometrie laisse I'esprit oil elle I'a trouve.' "
This critic, whose modesty is as conspicuous as hLs acumen,
may possibly possess that nice logical perception of minute
diflerences to which he refers ; but he evidently possesses
no perception of marked and noteworthy differences. If he
did he would perceive (passing over the distinction between
a remark of Voltaire's as to what he had observed and a
mere opinion attributed to him) that there is all the
difference in the world between encouraging the stud}' of
a particular branch of calculation because it is useful and
deciding the question he raises — one way or another. The
study of mathematics, apart from any idea of usefully
employing mathematical methods, may have all the dis-
ciplinary and jjurifying effects the critic in the Practical
I'eacher attributes to it ; the men who have chiefly been
remarkable for developing the simph' beautiful parts of
mathematics may be among those whose nice logical percep-
tion of minute differences has chiefly charmed an admiring
world : or, on the contrary, the study of mathematics of
this particular kind (the charm of which, by the way, I
probably know much more about than my critic) may tend
to impau- the mind's powers, and especially that mental
common sense on which all real progress in knowledge
depends ; love for such study may be regarded leather as
an appetite to be controlled (and often resisted) than as a
taste to be encouraged. But whether one view or the
other is right, I have not raised the question in my " Easy
Lessons in the Differential Calculus " ; and criticism turn-
ing on that question is entirely out of place so far as my
little book is concerned.

If, however, the general question had been raised ))y me,
my " practical teacher " might at least have put the ques-
tion properly. It does not require that nice logical percep-
tion of minute differences which he lauds to perceive that
the utilitarian side of mathematics is by no means limited
to the pxltry uses and classes of uses mentioned by him —
the application of mathematics to problems in chance, to
measuring the heights of mountains, to finding the way,
and so forth. The utilitarian value of mathematics belongs
to the whole domain of science, from the profoundest
researches of astronomers, physicists, chemists, and biolo-
gists, to the humblest inquii-ies of every-day observers, from
investigations of the infinitely great and the infinitely little
to the study of the most familiar objects of every-day life.
ISTewton and his followers, in dealing with the mutual
attractiijns and perturbations of the heavenly bodies, had to
use, and on occasion invent, mathematical methods
ranging, be it observed, from the simplest to the most com-
plex ; but one cannot investigate the movements of a reeling
top without mathematical methods, which also range from
the simplest to the most complex. I imagine, by the way,
that few, even among the mathematicians of Dreamland,
can have been more tempted than Newton to luxuriate in
mere mathematical reveries, such as have delighted the
Hamiltons, Sylvesters, and Henrys : the loving touch with
which he presents some quaint suggestion tending that way
is at least as characteristic as the cjuick return which his
common sense forces him to make to his actual subjects of
research.

I know not that even though the mere moonshiners
among mathematicians included the names deservedly held
in most esteem among great thinkers, if they could be set
above the Xewtons, Laplaces, Lagranges, Herschels,*
Leverriers, Adamses and the rest, it would greatly affect
the question of the genei-al value of mathematics as a means
of mere mental discipline. For the number of those who
will take any discipline of this .sort, with or without any
question of the usefulness of mathematics, is very small
indeed. And though this may be a very trifling consideration
to mere dreamers, it is one which every " practical teacher "
ought to take seriously into account.

Having completely missed the whole purpose of my little
work, a modest little manual enough, this unpractical
"practical teacher " naturally fails to understand the details
of my plan. For instance, " why Vanishing Fractions
should bs treated " he cannot imagine; " they do not swim
into the student's ken a tenth as often as do Series, the
whole question of which Mr. Proctor entirely ignores."
Now, if my critic were only a student of the actual prob-
lems which arise in scientific research — in all departments,
high and low alike — he would know that vanishing frac-
tions are constantly appearing to perplex the student, and
that the power of getting rid of their evanescent qualities,
of making them represent something instead of nothing,
which the Differential Calculus supplies, is an immense relief
to the student. As for Series, no student ever finds occasion
to deal with them until he has passed far be3-ond the stage
where the methods of the Differential Calculus first begin to
be needed. Series are pitchforked into elementary books on
algebra and on trigonometry, and so " swim into the student's
ken " quite early in his reading ; but he does not, for all
that, begin early to want them.

Then my reviewer pretends to be concerned because
there is no mention of the Newtonian method for Maxima
and Minima ; but he omits to point out any reason why the
method should be mentioned. My book was not intended

* William Herschel cannot be regarded as a mathematician of
power, bu^ John Herschel may justly be so regarded.

December 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

31

to show off knowledge on matters outside its subject. He
says, indeed, that I refer to Newton's geometrical methods,
but onl}- to show how cumbersome they are. This, bow-
ever, was not my object. I gave an example of Newton's
geometrical method of dealing with a particular jiroblem,
and of an algebraical method of dealing with the same
problem, and touched in passing on their cumbersome
nature, in order to impress on the student the value of a
method which deals with all such problems in a simple and
easy way.

But my critic shows in an even more marked way his entire
misapprehension of my very simple and modest little plan,^
when he asks vrhy I did not deal with the measurement of
arcs, since it is about as important as the measurement of
areas. If he knew anything about the Calculus, he would
be aware that so soon as the student enters on the deter-
mination of arcs, he finds himself confronted by problems
of much greater difficulty than are involved in the determi-
nation of areas. Passing from the circle to the ellipse,
which is next in simplicity of character, he finds that the
formula for the determination of an elliptic arc does not
admit of integration — being, in fact, the .^econd of the three
well-known " elliptic integrals " whose discussion by
Legendre, Jacobi, and others has taxed the highest powers
of ditlerential analysis.

It will not be thought surprising that a critic who thus
misunderstands the whole purpose of the book he criticises
should imagine many things which have no existence, and
misunderstand whatever can be misunderstood. He says
my book is far from justifying " the boast " in the preface,
and though the nearest approach to a boast is contained in
the sentence, " I have striven in this little work to show at
once how and why we want a method of calculation dealing
with quantities which vary in value under varying condi-
tions, and how such a method of calculation is to be used
in practice." Again, I mention that I took up little of the
Differential Calculus for my degree examination at Cambridge ;
and this clear-minded critic, so keenly conscious of the
value of a nice logical perception of minute difTerences,
assumes forthwith that I know no more of the Calculus now
than I did then. I add that " what I have since learned
about higher departments of mathematics " (for the Differen-
tial Calculus is quite elementary) "I have studied as occasion
required— the only really effective way of studying mathe-
matics," and my intensely perceptive critic finds the meaning
of this simple statement beyond his utmost jwwers of con-
ception.

When critics of this sort are coarsely rude, we must not
blame them as we would others. But we must not, there-
fore, refrain from pointing out where they show coarseness
or ill manners. My " practical teacher " is not content to
criticise and misunderstand ; he is not satisfied to blame as
if his ipse dixit alone settled the matter : he adopts the
method of the vituperative costermonger, who by his
"That's just like (/ojt. Bill," con,veys at once the idea of
blame and the suggestion of continued misconduct. The
Practical Tmcher, assuming the weekly charge for learning
manners not wasted in the case of its writers, ought to know
that to describe what a writer says as '■ eminently charac-
teristic," with the evidently underlying idea that that is, of
itself, to condemn it, is unworthy of a respectable publica-
tion, for it is altogether ungentlemanly. "VVe look tor such
tricks at Billingsgate, not among decent members of society,
or in sedate and well-mannered journals.

I admit, however, two characteristic peculiarities in my
method of teaching, which persons who can recognise
minute differences, but fail to see large ones, may recognise
as signs of self-conceit. Whenver my own experience has
taught me anything, whether it has taught me that I have

been right, or that I have erred, I always say as much ; and
again, when an opinion is based on my own researches only,
I point this out — a Saturday Eevieirer or a too confident
Practical Teacher says, " It is so and so," and as he does not
mention himself, the avei-age mind says, " He is not
egotistical, he knows." I prefer to say, " It appears to me,
so fiir as my own researches have extended, that the case is
so and so," and because I mention myself the average mind
says, " This man is an egotist." Which way of speaking is
really the more modest, I leave the logical mind to decide.

AMERICAN UNION AND IRISH DISUNION.

AM asked by a military correspondent if I can
explain how it is that Americans, who fought
so hard to maintain union in their own
country, show such sympathy with the efforts
of the Home Rule party.

I have never yet met with an American,
properly so called, who sympathised in the
slightest degree with the followers of Mr. Parnell. There
niaij be some Americans who are misled by the clamour of
the newspapers, nine-tenths of which owe the bulk of their
political articles to Irish writers. And there are certainly
many politicians who, in their puUic utterances, cater for the
Irish among their constituents. But, from the multitudinous
conversations I have had with Americans on the subject of
England's difliculties with the Irish, I am convinced their
strongest anti-British feeling in this matter amounts to
nothing more than a lively sense of amusement that the old
country seems likely to be hampered and worried into con-
cessions and compromises precisely as the United States
have been. That Irish section in America (unfortunately,
f^u- the largest) which corresponds v.'ith the present Home
Rule party and the old Repealers, plays the same game of
disturbance there which the followers of Parnell play here.
They practically sell their support to the party which will
pay "most for it — and this alike in national politics, in State
legislation, and in municipal matters. Iiishmen of this type
(most emphatically I do not mean the Irish race) seem
incapable of higher or worthier policy. Unfortunately they
too often get their way in America ; just as in the old days
of corrupt elections, men who were ready to sell their votes,
were too often able to secure their price. The only i)roper
remedy would be that sets of men guilty of thLs particular
form of corruption should be, for a while, deprived of their
votes, precisely as corrupt boroughs were in the old times.

The position of American newspapers in regard to the
Irish question is well illustrated by an experience of my
own. At the last election but one, when it seemed likely
that the Home Rulers would be offered the bribe they had
so long hankered for, I chanced, in the course of a letter to
the St. Josejih Herald (written from England) to touch on
the iniquity that concessions should be made for the sake of
a party's votes, and apart (as former action showed) from
any reference to the interests of the nation— asking in
what this differed, except in scale, from common bribery
and corruption. My letter appeared, only through a lucky
or unlucky chance in all probability. But immediately the
editor was called upon by indignant Irishmen, and told
that unless he excluded thenceforth my name from his
columns not an Irishman in Missouri would continue to
subscribe. As my letters were practically a present to the
paper, and only written at the editor's .special request— the
paper being of the nonpaying sort— I was no loser, but the
reverse, when the editor earned out the wishes of his
constituency. But the case illustrated strongly the subser-

32

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

vience which manv American editors are disposed to show
to their Irish constituency.

I thinlj; that at heart Americans, North and South, value
union chiefly because it keeps the nation great and strong,
and safe from interference. It may be that, even as many

in Eigland foolishly imagined that the separation of North
and South must be a gain to the old country, so some in
America may imagine that were Ireland separated from
England America's position would be improved. I have
not" however, met with any Americans quite so foolish.

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

MAP X

bj-Rich.'^A.rroctov

MAP I

The hntar scnjjt TfuhnUyzs TmiJhr

SajJU of MhUs at C£nir& of Map,
and. yxtduilly aJU, ovtr Map.

»-_ 1 13 1 .. ■

tl-ISO £00 WIO 6C0 eco 1000

Small areoj are greater hy *&5* half
yray to the- edg» , ajtcL by Vji- V* at

the- fidoA

Edw^ Waller. SeL

December 1, 1887.

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

33

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP XIV.— For NOVEMBER, DECEMBER, and JANUARY.

U'-.

."^n^

.,.^>*^-

♦A ^*

*-*^> >%

The Night Skies in the Southebn Hemisphere (Lat. 46° to 24° S.)

AND the
Southern Skies in England (Upper Half op Map only) at the following Times:

At 1 o'clock, morning, Dec. 7. At 11 o'clock, eight, .Jan. 7.

„ 12.30 „ „ Dec. 14. I „ 10.,30 „ „ Jan. 15.

„ Midnight, Dec. 22. „ 10 „ „ Jan. 23.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Dec. 30. | ',,9.30 „ „ Jan. 30.

At 9 o'clock, night, Feb. 7.

„ 8.30 „ „ Feb. 14.

„ 8 „ „ Feb. 22.

„ 7.30 ,, „ Mar. 1.

First .

Second , .

Star Magnitudes.
. ♦ Third . . . . *

Fourth . . . . +

Fifth .

34

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

IS THERE ANY SCIENCE IN WHIST?

E have received the following exhilarating
letter from a correspondent who evi-
dently does not appreciate " Our Whist
Column ": —

Exactitude being tlie chief corner-stone ot
science, ought the word " scientific " to be
applied to a game, of which a liaphazard
groping in the dark is a chief cliaracteristic ?
This is a question that recurs to me each month after a perusal of
the Whist articles in Knowledge. Meanwhile I wonder how long
there will be persons who entertain the belief that there is some
liigh level of this happy-go-lucky game to which they attain,
whilft they look down with contempt on what they style " Home
AVhist."

Whist, indeed, is a game of such complexity, the whole thing
being worked, too, so much in the dark, that the " superior " player
never discovers that he is living under a dehL-iion ; and, if he cannot
show by final results that hi« play is more successful than the
commonplace play of Mr. Humblemind [but Mr. Bumblepuppy
never has a humble mind] " he falls back on his iad luck for an
explanation."

But is it possible that the human mind can go on deceiving itself
in this way ? Certainly it may ; for is not the great whist
player wlio lives in such delusion in the same boat with many
other classes 1 For instance, there are those men who set them-
selves up as judges of horseflesh ; they never in the slightest degree
realising the complexity of the subject on which they pronounce
their confident judgments, though it is perfectly clear to a man of
discernment that the intrinsic value of an individual horse as a
useful animal can only be discovered by long-continued trial.
Politicians and philanthropists, again, deal with questions of great
complexity without even for the most part ever discovering that
they are so. No failure in the past abates their confidence as they
press forward with one idea in their heads. Then there is the
weather prophet. He, deluded creature, will call his forecasts
" scientific." His case clearly justifies the belief that there can be
men who hold that they play a superior " scientific " game, when in
truth their play is in effect in no wise superior to that of any
person with a passable memory, who can keep his mind on the carcl-
table, and who properly appreciates the old proverb about '• a bird
in the hand."

Self-delusion being the explanation, we need not be astonished at
what would otherwise be very surprising, namely, new orthodoxies
springing up in whist, over-confident people now putting forward
fresh discoveries, which they suppose to have been overlooked by
hundreds of thousands of players ot past generations, who gave
up almost their whole minds and time to the game. Neither need
one wonder at seeing each high priest protesting that the other
high priests have really no scientitic knowledge of the game on
which they presume to instruct the laity. Fbancis Kam.

Mr. Ram need not have been at the pains to go so far
afield for illustrations of persons who knowing nothing of
a subject delude themselves into the belief that they know
a good deal. P^very paradoxist shares this delusion, and
internal evidence might have shown Mr. Ram how natural
it is.

I may state one or two facts which should help to put
Mr. Ram right, only I fear he will not accept them.

First, scientific play does not depend quite so much on
imaginary advantage as Mr. Ram imagines. The matter
has been put to the test in the most crucial manner —
scientific play being matched against unscientific over the
selfsame hands dealt in the usual way to a set of players
in one room, and repeated card for card for player.s in
another room, and the superiority of science thus tested has
come out in a way which surprised even experts. The
details of the experiment are given in " How to Play
Whist," pp. 199 to 201. Sufiice it here to .say that, in all,
sixty-six hands were iilayed, absolute equality being secured
in regard to cards ; and the scientific players came out eleven
points, one. rubber, and twenty-orie tricks ahead of the un-
scientific I Of course, the estimate by tricks is the truest ;
and it is remarkable that, although, as luck would have it.

the cards were very unequally divided in the two rooms,
insomuch that in one room the good players were eighteen
points ahead, while in the other they were seven points
behind, they came out ahead, as reijards tricks, in both
rooms, being nineteen ahead in one room, and two ahead in
the other !

In passing, I may note, that I, of all men, least deserve
to be charged with despising Home Whist, having written
a little book under that name for the special inculcation of
correct play. For two years past I have enjoyed sounder
and better whist in my home circle than I have ever had
or have ever seen played (in so many as half a dozen con-
secutive sets) at an}' club. I have seen sound play matched
against the clever plans of first-rate players of their own
hands (or " bird-in-thebu-h " players) for game after game,
till the tricks (honours being left uncounted) have amounted
to thousands, and with as steady a gain by scientific p'ay at
rates ranging from 8 to 12 per cent., as though the cards
had been packed to secure it. I have seen scientific com-
bined p'ay matched against the uncultured whist of a keen
card player having single dummy for partner, and even here,
where the odds are supposed to be nearly 10 per cent, in
favour of dummy, scientific play has prevailed decisively
(about 9 per cent.). At double dummy, of course, science
is everything, and it very seldom happens that even at a
single sitting of any length science is beaten by lucky cards.
But in fact scientific players can recognise every trick
secured by sound play or lost b}' irregular play. When an
opponent, by playing out his aces and kings, gives up com-
mand, and lets long suits come in and make trick after trick,
the scientific player does not need much of his science to see
how his gain has been made. When a clever bumble-
puppist craftily leads a singleton and rejoicingly makes his
rutf, the scientific player knows just how it has happened that
through that too clever dodge three or four tricks have come
to him which otherwise he would never have made.

If Mr. Ram has ace, queen, and a small one of a suit,
and the eleventh round has come, the enemy on his left
holding (to the knowledge of every observant player at the
table) king, knave, and a small one, he makes his bird in
the hand the ace, lamenting only his bad luck, not his
feeble play, when two tricks go to the enemy ; but if, under
like circumstances, a correct player leads the small one, and
on the return of the suit makes both the ace and queen,
nothing will persuade the un.skilful player that the result
came from no groping in the dark, but was simply inevitable,
and as obvious beforehand to the sound player as the sun in
a clear sky. Even if by some amazing chance one can show
a player of this sort that in such a case scieitce has saved a
trick which nescience would have thrown away, he cannot
see the importance of the point. " A trick here, or a trick
there, what can that matter ? " he will say. " Why, you
yourself admit that by bad play a trick may be made
which sound play would have lost. One set of casual tricks
balances the other — for anything you can tell," and so forth.
But that is just what science knows not to be the case.
The scientific whist player can look on complacently when
bad play wins a trick here or a trick there, knowing that in
the long run all -siich gains are balanced by corresponding
losses ; the scientific whist player can in like manner com-
placently see play which he knows to be best five times out
of nine, turn out badly four times for every five times that
it turns out well ; but .science knows assuredl)' that every
trick made by s ientific play where unsound play would
have missed it, is so much to the balance of gain which
in the long run is bound to stand out beyond the gains
and losses either way depending on the mere run of the
cards.

As regards his closing remarks, that authorities dispute

December 1, 1»»7.J

KNOWLEDGE

00

over the scientific principles of whist, I need only say that
Mr. Ram must be quit* unacquainted with the literature of
the game. There are not two opinions on any one of the
leading principles of whist play. The questions which Mr.
Ram has seen discussed have had about as much to do with
whist science as a discussion about the best pattern for the
backs of cards would have had. All the discoveries which
various writere on whist have claimed to make have related
to methods of indicating the nature of the players' hands
without actually showing the cards. The science of whist
indicates the best way of playing such and such canls under
such and such conditions. Experience and practice enable
good players to infer where the cards lie, and so to ascertain
under what condition they are pursuing their strategy.
"Methods have been devised (more or less recently) for
showing certain details of a player's hand independently of
inferences based on his strategy. The differences of opinion
which have arisen i-especting these methods relate to no
principles of whist science, but to the questions : First,
whether the game is improved or impaired by devices which
tend to assimOate it to doable dummy ; secondly, whether
the gieater advantages which skilful (as compared with
unskilful) players may gain from such devices are fair
advantages ; and thirdly, whether, with players of average
skill more is gained by informing partner about details of
one's hand, than is lost by giving the opponents that infor-
mation.

The fact that I am bringing out in these columns the
whist science of old Mathews as well worth studying by
modern players, shows how little the principles of scientific
whist have changed since Mathews' day. But I am no
more at issue with any of the leading whist-playei-s of to-day
about whist principles than I am with ^Mathews or his pre-
decessor Iloyle. ( Here and there views have changed about
some detail or so, depending on nicely balanced chances —
as in the ca.se of the old lead of Queen from Queen, Knave,
nine, now only adopted on special occasions, and in regard
to covering an honour with an honour second hand ; but I
have been speaking of leading principles.) With regard,
however, to the signalling methods now in vogue, and little
likely to be given up, I certainly hold strongly now by the
opinion that, though they have introduced no new scientific
principles (nor have been advanced, I suppose, with any idea
of changing the principles established of old), they have
greatly injured whist as a recreation. Weak players have
become i-elatively weaker since they consented to let these
signals be introduced — precisely as they would become
relatively weaker still if they allowed kicking under the
table, significant coughing, sneezing, drumming, and the
like, to be adopted as systems of legitimate signalling.
They would become weakest of all if a kind of whist were
introduced which would be the most diflicult and the most
scientific game of all — whist in which all four hands were
displayed as they practic;\lly are in double dummy, but four
plaj'ers were engaged as in coijimon whist. This, by the
way, would be a magnificent game so far as its dependence
on skill was concerned ; but as a recreation it would be
altogether inferior to whist as ordinarily played.

Lastl)-, I may remark on the idea underlying Mr. Ram's
letter, that where there is chance there can be no science,
bec;uise there Gin be no exactitude. Science seldom secures
exactitude, though it strives after it. But if there is a
subject about which science is exact, it Ls in the existence
of law in chance results. A game depending on the throw-
ing of dice may be a pure chance game in one sense ; but
the player would come out badly in such a game who
should fail to recognise the exact scientific value of the
chances involved.

WATCHED BY THE DEAD.

OW in " Edwin Drood," the first part of the
stoi7, that Ls the part which ends with the
disappearance of Edwin and the close of the
sequent inquiries (constituting the first six-
teen chapters), forms but one-third of the
book as left by Dickens. Had no more been
written more might still have been guessed
as to the interpretation of the mystery than could have been
readily guessed about the " Moonstone " mystery if only the
first part of Mr. CoUins's story had been completed. Apart
from the feeling, not to be explained or communicated, which
assures those who undei stand Dickens's manner and know
the meaning of his tones, that Drood is not dead though
changed, there is clear evidence not only that Drood is alive,
but that Grewgious knows Drood is alive.

We will note first what every reader ought to note, though
somehow it has been overlooked by many ; we shall then
touch on a circumstance which might naturally enough
escape notice, though when once noticed it is decisive.

Grewgious is not a suspicious man, though keen and
observant, with a very strong sense of what is just and
right. He had had no suspicions of Jasper. The interview
between him and Ja-sper in Chapter IX. — the last before
the disiippearance of Drood — is perfectly friendly. Xay,
Grewgious. a man who could not pay compliments, says in
that interview, " Come, Mr. Jasper ; / know //our affection
for your nephew, and that you are quick to feel on his
behalf" When Jasper accepts the compliment " with a
friendly pressure of the arm," Mr. Grewgious "nods his
head contentedly." He shakes hands in the most friendly
way with Jasper at paiting, though rather quickly correcting
Jasper's " God save them both " into " God bless them both."
Contrast this with Mr. Grewgious's behaviour when next
they meet, and we feel at once that Grewgious has learned,
somehow, that Ja.sper is the wretch we know him to be — or,
as he puts it later, that Jasper is a wild beast and a brigand.
A verv short time has passed since their friendly interview ;
nothing has ostensibly happened to shake Grewgious's
confidence that Jasper loves Edwin Drood ; and Grewgious
Ls understood to have every reason to regard Jasper with
special sympathy. For Jasper's well-loved nephew is sup-
posed to have been murdered ; and for many hours Jasper
has been " working and toiling " to find traces of his nephew
— "now in barge and boat, now ashore among the o.siers, or
tramping amidst mud and stakes and jagged stones in low-
lying places, where solifciry watermarks and signals of
strange shapes showed like spectres." He has just returned
home exhausted — "unkempt and disordered, bedaubed with
mud that had dried upon him, and with much of his clothing
toi-n to rags." Surely a man to be very much pitied by
Grewgious, who " knows his affection " for the missing man.
Nothing but absolute certainty that Jasper is a murderous
villain could now prevent Grewgious from showing him such
sympathy as even Crisparkle, angry though he is at the
suspicions cast on Neville Liindless, does not refuse. (It is
important to notice that Mr. Grewgious knows little or
nothing about Neville.)

So far, however, from showing any sympathy with this
unkempt, exhausted, and miserable man, Grewgious is curtly
abrupt at the very beginning of the interview, and shows a
hardness and cruelty to Jasper as it proceeds such as nothing
but the absolute certainty that he sees Drood's would-be
murderer before him could justify. Grewgious, who knows
scarcely anything about Neville, has no special reason to be
angry at suspicions cast upon that young man. Yet every
word" of Jasper's implying suspicion of Neville, however
indirectly, is sharply corrected. " Have you seen his sister ? "

36

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

Jasper asks, Neville's name not having yet been mentioned.
" ]V7iose t " asks Grewgious, curtl}' and turning his eyes with
exasperating coolness on Jasper's face. " The suspected
young man's," Jasper replies. " Do you suspect him t "
Grewgious asks.

But even this is little. Grewgious has come to tell Jasper
that which, if Jasper were innocent, would only interest
him, and would certainly not be particularly distressing in
the midst of the intense anguish and suspense Jasper is
supposed to be enduring — viz. that Edwin Drood and Rosa
were no louger betrothed when Drood disappeared. Only if
Jasper had murdered, or supposed he had murdered, Drood,
because of a furious hatred of his nephew as betrothed to
Rosa, would the information have any special siguificance at
all. But if that were so, it would indeed be a terrible blow
to Jasper. It would not only show him that he had plotted,
and so far as he knew carried out his murderous scheme,
against a man of whom he had no reason to be jealous, but
that actually his murder had helped to remove an obstacle
from the path of a more dangerous rival.

Now, if we merely note that Jasper receives Mr.
Grewgious's news with horror, we find nothing particularly
significant in this scene. But there is much more in it.
Grewgious kiioios that his news will be received with
horror. He warns Jasper of this, and even offers to put
off the communication till the morrow, possibly because he
feels a pity for the weary wretch before him, vUlain though
he knows Jasper to be. But as Jasper concentrates his
attention to listen, Grewgious resumes his determination,
" with compressed and determined mouth, now," he looks at
the fire, as with provoking slowness and " internalness " he
opens the statement. As he reaches the part w-hich will
move Jasper, Grewgious " looks fixedly at him sideways."
Jasper's face grows ghastly before him ; but he has no com-
punction. Sentence by sentence he strikes the wretch, till
at last he " saw no ghastly figure, sitting or standing ; saw
nothing but a heap of torn and miry clothes upon the floor."
" Not changing his action even then, he opened and shut the
palms of his hands as he warmed them, and looked down at
it." If Grewgious did not know him for the murderous
wretch he was, his treatment of Jasper here, and after-
wards, is sheer brutality ; yet Grewgious is a kindly man
and a gentle. It is absolutely certain, then, from this scene
alone, that Grewgious knows what Crisparkle, Neville, and
the rest do not know, or even suspect, that Jasper himself
has striven to murder, and in intent has murdered, Di'Ood.

From whence can Grewgious have learned this? He
might have learned some few facts from Rosa which would
suggest suspicion — as that Jasper was jealous of Drood, that
she herself had an indefinable and inexplicable dread of her
music teacher, nay, that she had striven to warn Drood
against Jasper. But even if we were not clearly told in
Chapter XX., six months after the disappearance, that
Ro.sa was ashamed of her own suspicions (mistakenly
judging of Jasper's conduct by such rules as might apply
to average men, but not to " a horrible wonder apart,"
like him), we should be sure that nothing which so delicate
and sensitive a mind as hers could have communicated to
Grewgious would have sufficed to convince him that Jasper
was Drood's murderer. The knowledge of which Grewgious
made such terrible use might, of course, have come from
Rosa; it would, indeed, have very naturally been imparted
to him by her : but his knowledge that it would torture
Jasper, his certainty that Jasper deserved to be so tortured,
his manifest conviction that Jasp?r was a murderous villain
deserving no mercy, these could not possibly have been de-
rived from anything Rosa had said to him. We might
interpret part of Grewgious's conduct, indeed, by supposing
that while he had learned from Rosa about the breaking off
of the engagement, he had also discovered that Drood had

been murdered, and murdered by Jasper. This, of course,
might easily have happened. Durdles, with that curious
gift of his, by which he could tell when there was anything
inside a tomb (a gift enabling him, in one specified case [see
Chapter V.], to find how one of his workmen had left some
rubbish in a six-foot space inside a tomb), might well be
supposed to have discovered Drood's body, and the quick-
lime cast over it by Jasper, on the very night of the murder
(assumed, on this view, to have been accomplished), and he
might have brought to Grewgious convincing evidence that
Drood was killed, and that Jasper had done the deed. This
would account for everything we have thus far men-
tioned. But this explanation must, for another reason, bo
absolutely rejected : it will not hold water for an instant.
If Grewgious (to say nothing of Durdles) knew that Drood
was dead, even without knowing further that Jasper had
killed him, he would assuredly not have let the matter rest
here. He is a man singularly obedient to the dictates of
duty ; and he would know that duty imperatively required
him, in the case supposed, to make known such facts as
this explanation assumes him to have learned. It would
have been utterly inexcusable, nay, it would have made him
an accessory after the fact, and have been justly punishable
as a crime if he had not brought his knowledge at once
to light, while the evidence which had satisfied him still
remained available for the purposes of justice. We may
set the idea utterly on one side that Grewgious knew Drood
to have been actually murdered by Jasper.

Since it is certain that Grewgious, during this remarkable
interview, knows Jasper to be a murderous villain, while it
is equally certain that he knows Jasper is not actually a
murderer, nothing remains but that we should conclude
that Grewgious knows Drood to be alive while he also
knows him to have been murderously assaulted by Jasper,
nay, flung into the tomb, after the jewellery so well known
to Jasper had been removed. Grewgious would know also
that Jasper supposed he had heaped quicklime over Drood's
dead body, so that all trace of that body and of its clothing
might in a few hours be destroyed. For we know this to
have been part of Jasper's plot ; and manifestly Grewgious
knows everything Jasper had plotted.

While thus, and thus onl;/, can Grewgious's conduct be
explained — his torturing Jasper without compunction, on
the one hand, and his not striving to bring him to justice
on the other — we find here the explanation of a little detail
which no one seems to have specially noticed, though it is
singularly significant — in fact, absolutely decisive.

Just before Drood vanished, Grewgious had entrusted to
him a ring which was the sole memento Grewgious had of
Ro.sa's mother. He had loved her, and loves Rosa because
she reminds him of her so strongly. He could hardly bear
to part with the ring, even to Rosa. " It was hard," he
says, " to lose the ring, and yet it must have gone from me
very soon." For it was to be given to Rosa on her
betrothal. But he charges Edwin solemnly, " by the
living and by the dead," to restore the ring to him if
Edwin's engagement to Rosa is cancelled. " Will it come
back to me 1 " he asks lumself .sadly, when Edwin has
taken it away. " My mind hangs about her ring very
uneasily. But that is explainable. / hare had it so long,
and I have prized it so much/" (All this means, for all
who understand Dickens, that the ring is presently to be in
danger of disappearing.)

That ring was not given to Rosa. " Let the sorrowful
jewels be," Drood said to himself. He would i-estore them to
Rosa's guardian " when he came down ; he in his turn would
restore them to the cabinet from which he had unwillingly
taken them." " Let them be ; let them lie unspoken of in
his breast. . . . Among the niighti/ store of wo7ider/ul chains
that are for ever forging, day and night, in the vast iron-

December 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO>ArLEDGE ♦

37

toorks of' time and circumstance, there was one chain forged
in the moment of that sin/tU conclusion, riveted to tlie founda-
tions of heaven and earth, and gifted irith invincible force
to hold and drag."

Grewgious knows that the ring he so prized has not been
given to Rosa. He knows it is not among the jewellery
found by Crisparkle in the river. Yet he says nothing I
He neither causes .search to be made for jewels which were
of such interest to himself, nor does he say aught which
would lead to this particular clue being so followed that
perhaps by its aid the murderer might be brought to
j ustice 1 We venture to say that Dickens had made no
such blunder as this view would imply. It was not without
a special purpose either that he dwelt on Grewgious's sorrow
and anxiety about the ring, or that he directed the reader's
special attention to the ring as eventually to lead to the
detection of the criminal. He himself had tliat ring in his
thoughts throughout all the circumstances following Drood's
disappearance. He must also have known that though
careless readers might overlook the ring, or at least the
interest of Grewgious in it, some among his readers would
assuredly notice the point.

Grewgious is not careful about the ring, or about the
detection of the supposed murderer, siinph/ because he has
the ring back in its cabinet, and because he knows of Jasper's
attempted crime, and of Jasper's stroke having failed of its
aim. He says in Chapter XXII. he " holds decidedly that
John Jasper is a brigand and a wild beast in combination."
Such a man as he would have said nothing like this unless
he had known of Jasper's muiderous assault on Drood, and
of his being to all intents and purposes a murderer. Such a
man as Grewgious would assuredly not have suffered the
prized relic of his lost love to be in the hands of a villanous
wretch like Jasper, or to disjippear without an effort to trace
it. But he could not have leai'ned anything about the ring,
nor could he have learned aught about Jasper's villany,
except from Drood himself (for, as we have seen, the mere
discovery of Drood's body with the ring upon it is not an
admLssible explanation).

So much established — beyond, we think, any possibility of
question — the explanation of " the Datchery assumption " is
no longer difficult. But we believe that this assumption, to use
Dickens's own word, can be interpreted independently of the
decisive evidence obtained from the behaviour of Grewgious.

We know that the very last reference by Dickens to his
story was an expression of anxiety lest, in the treatment of
the Datchery assumption in the last chapter, he should have
shown too clearly how the stoiy was to be developed. We
think the fear was fully justified. For we cannot see how
any one who understands Dickens's manner can read that
last chapter without being convinced that Datchery is
Drood. In the earlier part about Datchery there was more
care to conceal his identity. Even a fairly careful reader
might doubt whether the character were an assumption at
all — except, perhaps, for the obvious fact that Datchery
wears a wig of white hair, and 'the probable circumstance
that the eyebrows are dyed black (or they would hardly have
been mentioned). Even though the careful reader may
decide that Datchery is disguised, he would scarcely be led
to conclude that Datchery is Drood, clearly though he may
have seen that Drood is not dead. Dickens artfully makes
Drood inquire about Mr. Tope as if he knew nothing of the
verger, and still more artfully makes Drood lose himself on
his way from " the retiring Grozier " to Jlrs. Toj)e's rooms.
Of course the inquiry corresponded well with Datchery's
obvious wish to conceal his identity ; while Drood's losing
his way, even if not regarded as part of the same plan,
would be only too ea.sily understood by any one who has
resided in a cathedral town and knows how readily one may
get " very cold indeed " in the search for even a well-known

nook from an unknown hotel " of retiring disposition " like
the Crozier. (We know Rochester — Cloisterham, that is —
pretty well ; but we would certainly not undertake to find
our way easily through all its labyrinthine passages.)

Of course, with the knowledge that the Datchery character
is an assumption, as Dickens told Miss Hogarth later, even
the scenes in Chapter X VIII. suffice to show who Datchery
is. Thei-e is no one in the story but Drood himself un-
accounted for, except only Bazzard. NowBazzard is not only
a fool, but a dull one, and a curmudgeon ; Datchery is neither
the one nor the other. Bazzard has no sense whatever of
humour ; Datchery is full of dry fun. Bazzard is as clearly
intended to come to utter grief in the end as was Silas
Wegg in " Our Mutual Friend ;" Datchery is just as clearly
intended to triumph in his plans. One might almost as
reasonably imagine that Datchery is Honeythunder as that
he is Bazzard.

But in the last chapter of the book the evidence that
Datchery is Drood is so clear that no one can doubt its
meaning, though many may overlook its existence till it is
pointed out.

We would in particular invite all who love the writings
of our later " Wizard " — the Wizard of the South — to com-
pare very carefully the scene between the opium-eater and
Drood in Chapter XIV. and the scene between the same
oiHum-eater and Datchery in Chapter XXII 1. It would
not be fair for lis to quote, as we might do, sentence after
sentence from one scene for comparison with sentence after
sentence from the other. Let the reader who has not yet
done this do it for himself; he will be well repaid. The
close resemblance between the characters of Drood and
Datchex-y will at once be obvious ; the humour and the
pathos of each will be fully appreciated. Of course, we
compare Datchery only with Drood as seen in that last
scene before the disappearance, when sad after his parting
from Rosa, whom he loves — -though even then he does not
know it, " the vanity and caprice of youth " (soon to dis-
appear for ever) " sustaining the handsome figure of Miss
Landless in the background of his mind." The Drood of
the eai'lier scenes is dead — " Poor youth, poor youth,"
Dickens says of that Drood ; and many readers suppose he
has condemned Di'ood altogether to death.

But the closing passages of the two scenes must be quoted
to show how absolutely identical are the tones ' in which
Drood and Datchery are spoken of, though of course we cannot
make this clear to those who have no ears for such tones : —

From Chapter XIV.
This is not an inspiriting close
to a dull day. Alone, in a seques-
tered place, surrounded by ves-
tiges of old time and decay, it
rather has a tendency to call a
shudder into being. He makes
for the better-lighted streets, and
resolves as he walks on to say
nothing of this to-night, but to
mention it to Jack as an odd
coincidence to-morrow; of course
only as a coincidence, and not as
anything better wortli remember-
ing— still it holds to him, as many
things better worth remembering
never did. He has another mile
or so to linger out before the
dinner-hour ; and, when he walks
over the bridge and by the river,
the woman's words are in the
rising wind, in the angry sky, in
the troubled water, in the flicker-
ing lights. There is some solemn
echo of them even in the cathe-
dral chime, which strikesa sudden
surprise to his heart as he turns
in under the archway of the gate-
house.

From Chapter XXIII.
Mr. Datchery pauses with the
selected coins in his hand, rather
as if he were falling into a brown
study of their value, and couldn't
bear to part with them. The
woman looks at him distrustfully,
and with her anger brewing for
the event of his thinking better
of the gift; but he bestows it on
her as if he were ahstracting his
mind from the sacritice, and with
many servile thanks she goes
her way. John Jasper's lamp is
kindled, and his lighthouse is
shining when Mr. Datchery re-
turns alone towards it. As
mariners on a dangerous voyage,
approaching an iron-bound coast,
may look along tlie beams of the
warning light to the haven lying
beyond it that may never be
reached, so Mr. Datchery's wist-
ful gaze is directed to this beacon
and beyond.

38

♦ KNOWLKDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

Rightly to understaud the force of the resemblance
between " the two scenes, of which these passages are
the close, it must be remembered that if Datchery is really
Di-ood. then in each scene we have the same person ; in
eiich scene Drood shows the same kindly and considerate
way of talking to the old and feeble (" always kindly," we
aie told of Drood ; and as kindly to the child as to the aged,
if Datchery is Drood), in each Drood has been reminded by
the old opium-eater of his love for Eosa ; in the first he had
just made the sacrifice of that plighted troth which he had
but then learned to value; in the second his thoughts were
on that sacrifice — no other — when the old woman thought
he was weighing the value of a few coins ; in one scene he
has a foreshadowing of the danger to be feared from Jasper ;
in the other he knows the danger he has to face in exposing
Jasper for the ^-illain he is. We can understand, then, how
it comes to pass that the selfsame tones are heard in both
passages throughout both scenes. Even the old opium-eater
somehow felt, she knew not how, that the white-haired man
addressing her was no other than the " young gentleman "
she had met there before.* We must not be duller-witted
than she was.

Note, further, that when Datchery had met Jasper
without being detected, he regarded that as a ditficult task
achieved — •' For a single bufler, living on his means," he
said, " I have had a rather busy afternoon." But after the
scene with the old ojsium-eater, he says of his work, " Hum I
ha I a very small score, this ; a very poor score." Albeit,
when he finds that she has, like himself, a strong feeling
against Jasper, he adds "a thick line to the score, extending
from the top of the cupboard door to the bottom," and falls
to " on his breakfast with an appetite " — these being the
very last words of the story, and signifiamt words they are.
Some other points disclosed in the story as written may
be noticed here, though, in truth, it would be easy to fill a
volume with the consideration of the multitudinous touches
introduced by I)ickens into this only half-written novel.
It is clear that Kosa knows perfectly well that Drood is not
really dead. Of course, Grewgious would not let Jier for
whom he had such tender and chivalrous feelings remain a
moment in doubt on this point. But, apart from that, her
whole conduct is inconsistent with the belief that she is as
troubled by the mystery of Edwin's disappearance as she
certainly would have been, sensitive and tender-hearted as
she was, had it really been a mystery to her. Even the way
in which she speaks of Jasper to Grewgious as ''his uncle,"
shows that they both think of Drood as a living man. But
this is shown even more clearly by the very passages which
some regard as suggesting that she sorrows for Edwin as
dead. When she is first beginning to be in love with Tartar
she thinks of Edwin, saying, " Poor, poor Eddy 1 " Now,
had she formerly loved Edwin, the newly-born love for
Tartar, Edwin being dead, would have suggested this
thought, naturalh' enough. But as she had never felt more
than a sisterly love for Edwin, it is clear there is another
meaning in her sorrowful thought of him : and what else
should it be but the thought that nuw there is no hope for

* It was no new idea of Dickens's thus to picture the unconscious
influence of individuality making itself felt through all disguise,
through all real change of condition. We have already noticed one
case — viz. where Mrs. BofBn somehow feels that John Harmon,
whom she had last seen and known as a child, is near her, when the
realJohn Harmon is there disguised as the secretary, Rokesmith,
and now a man who, though still young, has been made serious and
grave by many sorrows. And there are many other e.'iamples. Of
course we are carefully told that the old woman was reminded of
the former meeting with Drood "by the sight of the place " But
this is only to blind us as far as possible to the truth that she
recalls the former conversation, because, changed though he is in
appearance, she is talking to the ven- man with whom she talked
before.

Edwin that she ever can love him. She knows Edwin is
alive ; she knows that Edwin loves her ; she has heard this
through Grewgious, and has even promised Grewgious (pro-
bably) that if ever the time should come when she may feel
love for Edwin she will sa\' so. When she comes to Grew-
gious after Jasper had terrified her, and has begun by saying
that " she had taken a sudden resolution," she remembers
this promise, and, lest Grewgious should think the sudden
resolution related to Edwin, says in the same breath, " Poor,
poor Eddy ! " — an exclamation which the keen old man is
not at a loss to understand, as we note by his sympathetic
response. And every expression of regret for Eddy on Rosa's
part will be found to relate to her dead love for him, or
rather for the love that had never lived.

How, then, was the story to have ended ? It appears to
us that, independently of what Dickens said to Forster on
this point, the end is very clearly foreshadowed. Of the
four men who are in love with Rosa, two are to die. Jasper
will be driven to the tomb where he supposes Edwin's dust
to lie, to seek for the ring of which in due course Grewgious
will tell him.* There, seeing his supposed victim (as the
outside picttu-es of the original monthly numbers show
Edwin I)rood) standing alive and threatening, he w-o\ild fiy
with a shriek from the menacing vision, as he would con-
sider it, to be pursued by Neville, Tartar, and Crisparkle
(as also shown on the cover) up the \\ inding stairs along
which he had led Drood a year before to his doom. In this
pursuit, or rather in the attack on Jasper, Neville was to be
slain. (No character in all Dickens's novels was ever more
distinctly doomed to death, by the clear evidence of the
narrator's tones, than Neville Landless.) The death of
Jasper was, we conceive, to have been like that of Jonas
Chuzzlewit and of Slinkton in " Hunted Down ; " Rosa was
to marry Tartar ; and Helena, Crisparkle. We imagine
that Dickens would have found noble exercise for his special
powers in showing Neville Landless rejoicing in the happy
fortune of Tartar's love for Rosa, though he had viewed so
angrily Edwin's seemingly prosperous love, in the days when
Edwin was not in earnest and did not even know the love
that was in his heart. Edwin was doubtless to remain to
the end devoted to Rosa, even as Grewgious had remained
devoted to the memory of Rosa's mother. There was to
have been no bitterness, however, in Edwin's heart towards
Tartar in regard to his own less fortunate love. A certain
wistfulness such as we see already in Datchery, and on
Rosa's part a certain sad regi-etfulness — nothing more :
nothing to pain those who had followed Edwin's story, more
than we are pained by the gentle tenderness of Tom Pinch's
love for Mary Chuzzlewit— a love as tender and as pure as
his love for her as Mary Graham.

OvSTER-OPEXlss MosKET. — Mr. Alfred Carpenter, of the Marine
Survey Office. Bombay, has observed Macacus monkeys on the island
off Sniith Burmah opening oisters with a stone. Ttey bring the
stones from high-water mark down to low water, selecting such
stones as they can easily grasp. They effect the opening by
striking the base of the upper valve until it dislocates and breaks
up. They then extract the oyster with the linger and thumb,
occasionally putting the mouth straight to the broken shell. The
way they have chosen is the easiest to open the shell.

* In the singularly amusing conversation between Grewgious,
Oisparkle, and (eventually) Tartar, a conversation in Dickens's best
style, Grewgious, in advising that the caller (Tartar, as it turns out)
shall be admitted, remarks that it is well ti take advantage of any
such opening as may present itself. " I could relate an anecdote in
point," he says, " but that it would be premature." It is impossible
to say what this refers to, but one may guess that perhaps Grewgious
when in Cloisterham had looked in at fhe jeweller's who had talked
with Drood about his jewellery, and from him learned (what Drood
had learned") that Jasper had a most exact knowledge of all Drood's
ornaments. This would have suggested the power of the ring to
hold and to bind the guilty wretch.

December 1, 1887.]

KNOVy^LEDGK ♦

39

A STUDY OF CHILDHOOD.

3HE profoundest philosophers of our day have
not thought it beneath them to discuss
matters which are commonly legarded as
outside the domain of science, in a trul}'
scientific spirit. Faraday analysed a tear ;
Darwin has based important theoretical
views on the analysis of a smile, a frown,
a sneer, a gesture of hand or head or shoulders. Darwin
noted in particular the expression of the emotions in very
young children — a subject of inquiry of extreme importance
when it is considered that, according to the Darwinian
theory of the origin of man, we should find in very young
children the strongest indications of those characteristics
which link the human race with races next below them in
the animal world. In the unborn child may be traced the
various stages of progress, from the ascidian to fish-like and
thence to reptilian forms, and so onwards to the lower and
thence to the higher mammalian type. The newly-born
child shows in many chai'acteristics, which disappear with
advancing years, his kinship to the most advanced mam-
malian type short of man. As tiine passes, the simian
characteristics are replaced by those which are now recog-
nised only in uncivilised races — the progression not ending
in infancy, however, or even in early youth, but (at any rate
with the best representatives of civilised races) continuing
into middle life, i^ince our kinship with savage human
races is not questioned (though for aught that appeal's it
might very well have been doubted, and is, indeed, as it is,
altogether misundei-stood by many), there is more scientific
interest in the study of the very young child, whose move-
ments and characteristics, carefully observed, throw clearest
light on the question of man's kin.ship with the higher
mammalian types.

Hitherto the mental and physical development of very
young children has not been .systematically studied. Tiede-
mann, in the last century, gave some attention to the sub-
ject, but his work has little value in the present day.. In a
work of some 4-10 pages, Professor Preyer, of the University
of Jena, made the first three years of a child's life the sub-
ject of careful and systematic study. He carefully con-
sidered the progress of the child from week to week, or the
apparent cessation of progress in various parts of the
child's development, and attempted to explain the various
phenomena successively observed. It is hardly necessary
to say that the standpoint from which Professor Preyer
observed and made his inferences was that of the evolu-
tionist. Aided by his studj- of the ways and habits of the
young of lower forms. Professor Preyer anah'sed the phe-
nomena of the infant mind with a success which perhaps he
otherwise would hardly have been able to achieve.

Professor Preyer worked on a single suhject — a boy of his
own. Here, at the outset, it is to be noticed that while
many of his observations may be such as would have been
noted in other cases, perhaps in all, observations made on
one child c<annot ])Ossibly be regarded as estal)lishing general
laws of infantile development. If we consider how much
children difler in such matters as the time when they begin
to talk and to walk, we shall see reasons for believing that
they difTer also greatly in those other matters more deliciite
of observation, with which Professor Preyer here deals. I
have had opportunities of noting the development of four-
teen infiints, in one family (my own), in which one might
fairly expect a greater uniformity than among children of
diflerent families : and I can answer for it that the dilTer-
ences as to such matters as first noticing light, distin-
guishing colour, making first attempts at touching, grasping^

and so forth, recognising and responding to varying ex-
pressions of the parents' or nurse's countenance, etc., are very
great indeed. Professor Preyer recognises this, of course.
He knows that such dififerences exist among the young of
all i-aces. He compares as far as possible his own observa-
tions with those of others. But it is important to notice
how very necessary in this research are abundant observa-
tions made on a great number of children belonging to
difTerent families.

Almost every day Professor Preyer made observations
three times, morning, noon, and evening, on his little "sub-
ject." He made experiments, also, unhampered by the
customary modes of infantile training, which would, of
course, have interfered with his operations. Necessarily,
however, he had to rely for some of his observed facts on
others. He found an ally in Mme. Preyer, who probably
took quite as much interest in the child's progre.'^s as he did.
Whether on one or two occasions she may not have misin-
terpreted what she saw in a manner unduly complimentary
to the child's intellect, our deponent .sayeth not ; it .seems
not wholly impossible.

The first sense considered was sight, though probably
feeling is the first sense exercised. He considers that
sensibility to light exists from the moment of birth. Yet
probably this sensibility is more alive to the sense of feeling
than to that of sight. Be this as it may, the infant from
the first closed its eyes when exposed to a strong light.
With regard to actual sight, as denoted by the fixing of the
eyes on objects, Pi'ofessor Preyer says that up to the tenth
day he noticed no movements indicating that the child fixed
its eyes on an object. The child seemed only to look at
objects before it up to that time. Now here ob.servation
will show that infants differ gi-eatly. I am sure some
children fix their eyes on objects long before the tenth day ;
and I knew of one case, a little girl of my own (exceedingly
nervous and supersensitive throughout her short life of
eight months), of whom I should say that she certainly
followed with her eyes in the most definite way a light
which was being shifted about in the room in which she
was born, when she was less than half an hour old, were it
not that the thing seems so incredible I am half disposed to
think it can only have been some strange chance which
caused her eyes thus to move. Daring the few minutes
that I was allowed by an authoritative nurse to watch the
little creature, her eyes while open — say in all some fifty or
sixty seconds — were constantly fixed on the light and fol-
lowed it when it was moved. On the following evening, when
she was some twenty hours old, thei'e could be no mistake
about it; but during the day (Christmas Day, 1871) I had
no opportunity of noting whether objects not so well defined
as a light were equally noticed (or rather, looked at, for there
may have been no noticing in the matter). Professor Preyer
says that a child niav " turn its head towards a .source of
light — as the winr'ow, just as it turns its head towards the
breast, through an association with pleasure." Yet this, I
think, can hardly be the explanation of the observed fact
that an infant less than twenty-four hours old turned its
eyes on such an object as the flame of a wax candle. In
fact. Professor Preyer puts such an observation as this at a
much later date. " The second stage," he says, " is reached
on the eleventh day, when the child, after staring at one
bright object (the author's face), turns the head to another, a
light, near it ; and the third stage is entered upon on the
twenty-third da)/, when the child follows a candle, held one
metre (say 34 feet) before the eyes, to the right and left,
upwards and downwards, with the ei/es and without any
movement of the head." This third stage, I can answer for
it, was entered upon by my little daughter before she had
reached her twenty-first hour, and unless I was greatly

40

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

misled by merely chance movements of the eyes, some
twenty hours eai'lier still.

The last stage of eye direction " is that in which the child
is able to turn the eye towards an object, and to seek for new
objects in the field of view. This stage is reached (it should
be this stage was reached in the particular case in question)
in the first quarter. On the eighty-first day, the child
turned its eyes seeking an object (a drinking-glass) which
■was emitting tones."

The power of judging direction and distance is closely
associated with these first experiments in seeing. Professor
Preyer says that in the sixty-eighth v:ee.k the child still
grasped at objects lying beyond his reach. " On this," Mr.
Sully remarks, " it seems to me there must be great difler-
ences here. I tried a boy of mine with an object when just
six months old. If the object was held a foot or less beyond
his reach he made no movement. But as soon as it was
brought pretty near the accessible point he made a decided
grasping movement." A boy of mine, five months and a
few days old, amused himself in the early morning hours
(much too early for my comfort or his mother's) in grasping
and pulling towards him the red lining of our bed curtain,
which is carried round the top of his cot. He made no
attempts of the kind if (as in the warmer wcAther) it was
placed where it would be some five or six inches beyond his
reach. When he was five months and one day old he tried to
pull the lining ."io as to get it into his mouth, but could not,
because even with a stronger pull than he could give it
would only re:\ch within some three or four inches of his
mouth. On this he put two hands down beside him, and,
hoisting himself up, laid hold of the lining -with his not
quite " boneless gums." There mu>-t have been some judg-
ment of distance and direction here, because his eyes could
not guide the capture, as when it was made with the hands.

Hearing is defective for several days after birth. Young
mothers should note this, by the way. I have known cases
where a mother has feared that her child was born deaf
because it paid no attention to noises not accompanied by
movements it could feel. In one sense every infant is born
deaf, owing to the condition of the aural conduits : and even
when the organs of hearing are no longer impeded there is
often no power of discriminating .sound for several days.

Professor Preyer found, he says, that "the first un-
mistakable movements of the head in the direction of a
sound occurred in the eleventh week." (This seems not
quite consistent with his statement that on the eii;hty-fii>t
day the child tried to look at a drinking-glass which was
emitting sound.) At the end of the sixteenth week the
movement of the head in the direction of a sound — that is,
so that the eyes were directed towards the spot whence the
sound came — " had attained the precision and certainty of a
reflex movement."

The sense of feeling is next dealt with by Professor
Preyer. His observations .seem to show that the surface of
the body is somewhat less sensitive to touch just after birth
than it afterwards becomes. So also the difference of
sensibility in diflerent parts of the body incre^ises for soiie
hours after birth. Immediately after birth the body seems
almost insensible to variations of temperature, but soon
becomes tolerably keen. Thus, when the bath was cooled
down to 32i° centigrade (90i° Fahrenheit) the child
appeared content, but with a further lowering of 1^° centi-
grade (2j° Fahrenheit) the child began to cry.

The most perfect sense at birth is taste. " The discrimina-
tion of quality, namely, sweet, bitter, salt, and sour, is
possible from the fir.st, provided sufliciently strong stimuli
are employed. If weak solutions are iLsed the tactual sensa-
tion overpowers the gustatory, and the child is indiflerent."

The sense of smell seems at first to be associated with the

sense of taste. In the seventeenth month, when a hyacinth
was held to the child's nose, the youngster tried to fcike it
into its mouth. It is not altogether clear, however,
that the sense of smell is distinct from that of taste.
Professor Preyer considers that the first odour known to the
child, that of its mother's milk, is so inseparabh' bound up
with the pleasure of feeding and the sense of taste, that the
child argues in this case the smell is pleasant, therefore
this is something nice to eat. But the senses of touch and
sight are involved here, and it seems to me, from what I
have observed in a great number of cases, that they have at
least as much to do with the child's attempt to eat what is
offered to it as any sweet smell the hyacinth might have had.
If a piece of twisted paper, or a ball of cotton, is held to a
child's nose, he will take it into his mouth, tho\igh it has no
odour, pleasant or otherwise. This habit continues to the
middle of the second year, or even later, though after the
first eight or nine months the child's wish seems not so
much to taste as to test the object presented to it.

Professor Preyer considers tliat fear is an inherited
instinct with young children. Of this there can be very
little doubt ; though it is to be noticed that children in the
same family differ very much as respects timidity, both in
regard to the degree of fear they show under the same con-
ditions and to the circumstances which chiefly aflfect them.
In some cases fear doubtless results from association, and
may often be ludicrously out of proportion to the exciting
cause. A boy of mine who during his first teething bad
been in charge of a strange nurse, showed .■■igns of anxiety
afterwards when she approached, as if (but of course the
interpretation may not be correct) he associated her appear-
ance with the pain he had sufl'ered when he first saw her.
Professor Preyer says that " the timidity of young children
before small animals can only be explained as the result of
inheritance." He noticed this first in the ninth month,
" and as late as the thirty. third month the child cried in a
ludicrous manner at the approach of a puppy only a week or
two old." The timidity, here, is rather anxiety in the
presence of the unknown and mysterious than an inherited
fear of small animals. I have noticed that an anxious, half-
frightened (but also half-curious) look always comes over a
child wlien it sees, hears, or feels anything of a striking
nature for the first time.

Professor Preyer points out that blinking the eyes on the
sudden approach of an object does not necessarily imply an
intensified fear of danger. It seems rather to be a result of
experience, not being noticed during the first two months,
and is therefoi-e presumably an acquired habit. But he
regards the fear of falling when the child begins to walk as
instinctive. Here, it .seems to me, he is in error. If the
fear of falling were instinctive, we should, I imagine, see
more trace of stich fe^r in very young children when they
are held high in the air, and still more when they are tossed
up (as some will unwisely do with their children) to the
ceiling. But this is not usually, or indeed generally, the
case. I hold my youngest boy high up above the gi'ound,
and he only crows with pleasure. I let him down suddenly
from that height, and he shows no signs of fear, only a sort
of quaint perplexity at the sudden change of position.

So, again, I agree with Sir. Sully in thinking that the
timidity displayed by Dr. Preyer's little boy in the twenty-
first month, when the child was taken close to the sea, is an
inherited fear. As Mr. Sully well remarks : " Much of
children's early shrinking is undoubtedly due to a kind
of shock which is given by certain things. One may easily
suppose that the vast expanse of water, especially when
attended by movement and the peculiar voluminous .sound,
would produce such an efleet ; and it is certain that some-
thing of children's fear of animals, especially of dogs, is

December 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

41

occasioned by shoct. A boy of mine showed very decided
and strong fear," proceeds Mr. Sully, " amounting to childish
terror, at dogs, after one of these animals, which had secretly
entered the room with his mistress and ensconced himself
under the table, suddenly ran out towards the child, barking.
' Bow-wow ' remained for months after the type of every-
thing new and disconcerting. When hearing a strange
sound he would run to his mother and hide his face, ex-
claiming ' Bow-wow 1 ' He showed a dislike to worms,
which he also called 'bow-wow.' I think that there is no
doubt that inheritance played a part here, but something
must be allowed for the mere disturbance of the shock.
The fact that a child may be completely upset by the father
or mother donning a slight disguise seems to me to point
conclusively to this. Dr. Preyer's facts on this head are
interesting, but hardly full enough. There is no reference
to the seemingly whimsical timidities of children towards
strangers. My observations have convinced me that there
are certain peculiarities of face and tone of voice which at
once rouse strong fears in the child ; and M. Perez and
others have pointed out that young children shrink from
persons dressed in black. Would Dr. Preyer say that these
are cases of an inherited association 2 "

MOVEMENTS IN THE STAR DEPTHS.

I^^IONG the many contrasts between the seem-
ing and the real presented by the teachings
of astronomy, there is not one more sur-
prising than the contrast which exists be-
tween the seeming fixity of the stars and the
tremendous velocities with which in reality
ever}- star is urging its way through space.
For wluit evidence could be more convincing, it would seem,
than that which the study of the heavens has aflbrded in
support of the theory that the stars are fixed ? Thousands
of years ago the constellations are as the}' now are ; Orion
with its belt, the seven stars of the plough, Cassiopeia's
chair, the garland of stars in Perseus, the Pleiades and
Hyades, all the principal star groups were figured by ancient
astronomers as we should figure them now. Where else can
we find such stability I And if, in thousands of years, the
star groups have not changed in form, how can we reconcile
the evidence of fixity with the a.ssertions of astronomers
that all the stars are in rapid motion, and some certainly
moving so swiftly that no form of motion known to us on
earth is comparable with these tremendous velocities?

The answer to these questions is exceedingly simple.
Indeed, the whole subject of the stellar research depends on
very simple conditions ; for the magnificence of the problems
involved prevents the astronomer from dealing with any but
those more striking features which can be considered with-
out the use of complex or recondite methods.

The fact is, then, simply this, that the stars are so far off
that their motions, though inconceivably swift, produce no
change of place which ordinary observation c;xn recognise.
The effects of motion arc reduced by distance, precisely as
the dimensions of an object are reduced. As a ship on the
horizon, though she may be urging her way swiftly through
the water, yet seems at rest, so the distant stars seem un-
changing in position, though in reality they travel many
miles in every second of time.

It is indeed worthy of notice that the effect of the
enormous distances of the stars in diminishing their apparent
motion is the exact counterpart of the effect of the same
distances in preventing any appreciable stellar displacements
on account of the annual motion of the earth in her wide
orbit. These two circumstances correspond in every respect.

We read with astonishment in our own books of astronomy
that, though the earth's orbit has a span of 185,00(1,000 of
miles, yet even the nearest star is seen in apparently the
same direction (so far as any but the most delicate instru-
mental observation is concerned) from opposite sides of this
enormous path. But we should observe that it follows as a
dii'ect inference that if a star travelled as many millions of
miles athwart the line of vision it would seem to be
unchanged in position, even though that star were the
nearest in the heavens.

So that we perceive at once how little reason there is for
inferring from the aeeming stability of the star groups that
the stars are at rest. The great marvel of all is that the
groups remain unchanged in appearance during the year,
though the earth shifts so enormously in position. That
fact is the true basis of all our ideas respecting the vastness
of the stellar measure, and once this vastness is recognised the
wonder rather is that any stars should seem to move at all
than that close telescopic scrutiny is required to detect
stellar movements.

If astronomers could only apply the same process for
recognising stellar motions which they have to apply to
examine the distances of the stars, we should know very
little about the movements of the stars. It is not commonly
known how little has been really done by astronomers to
determine star distances. There are not four stars in the
whole heavens whose distances have been satisfactorily
determined ; and there are not twelve which, under the
most rigid scrutiny, have given even the slightest signs of
having a measurable distance. All the host of heaven, save
these few, all the thousands of stars seen on the darkest and
clearest night, all the millions revealed by the telescope, and
all the millions on millions of them which no telescope yet
made bj- man can reveal, lie at immeasurable distances. And
yet the measuring line which has been used is of incon-
ceivable length. A single length of it brings us to the
nearest star. Alpha C'entauri, more than 200,000 times
further away than the sun ; another length added brings us
to two other stars, one lying in the Swan and another in the
Great Bear ; and astronomers know pretty certainly that
from thi-ee to ten or twelve lengths of this enormous line
would give a distance within which lie all the twelve nearest
stars. But they have no means of pushing their measui-ing
rod further out into space. Not only can they not do so
now, but it is unlikely that any improvements in telescopic
construction will enable them to do so at any time.

But the stars whose motions have been recognised are
not some ten or twelve, but are counted by thousands, and
there is every reason to believe that astronomy will one day
count them by tens of thousands.

The reason of this diflerence between the mastery which
astronomers have obtained over one problem while its sister
problem remains almost untouched is easily presented.

To determine the distance of a star the astronomer must
determine a diflerence in the star's direction, which is
repeated oscillatingly year after year. If we imagine a line
drawn from the star to the earth, the earth end of the line
would travel round and round in a circle 18,^,000,000 of
miles in diameter, the line itself swaying like a gigantic
pendulum, and the effect to the observer on earth would
be precisely as though the star were travelling round and
round in a circle 18.5,000,000 of miles in diameter, a line
from the earth to the star swaying like a gigantic pendulum.
It is the sway of that pendulum that the astronomer has
to measure, and how small that sway is will be understood
when I mention that in the case of the nearest star it cor-
respond.s to the motion of the minute hand of a clock or
watch in the 200th part of a second.

But in the case of a star travelling onward with enor-

42

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

mous velocity through space, it is not an oscillating but a
continuous motion that has to be determined. In a year
this motion may be less (and curiously very much less) than
the annual swaying motion of the nearest star. But in the
course of many years it becomes measurable or even (in the
astronomical sense) considerable. We speak of the astro-
nomical sense, meaning the way in which an astronomer
considers displacements, which to ordinary observation are
altogether inappreciable. With the telescope, magnifying
such displacements several hundredfold, and also supplying
the most delicate means of testing displacement, a change of
place equal to the hundredth part of the moon's seeming
diameter, instead of being barely discernible (as it certainly
would be to the unaided vision) is a phenomenon altogether
obvious and startling.

Even so, however, by far the greater number of the stars
move so slowly on the heavens that the lifetime of a single
observer would be insufficient for an exact determination of
a star's rate of (apparent) motion. There are some few stars
indeed which are moving with abnormal rajiidity ; and these
could have their rates determined in twenty or thirty years
with great accuracy. Yet even among these the amount of
change in an ordinary lifetime seems surprising small. For
instance, the star which moves most rapidly of all — not a
bright and conspicuous star as might be supposed, but a star
so faint that it has not been thought worth while to give it
a name in ordinary star lists — moves in sixty years over a
distance less than one-fourth of the moon's apparent dia-
meter. So that if an observer twenty years old noted the
place of this star, and in his eightieth year observed it again,
it would be that seemingly insignificant arc which he would
have to measure — not to recognise such and such a dis-
placement, but to measure its amount with accuracy.

Of the real rates of stellar travelling we can form no exact
ideas, simply because the stars' distances are unknown.
There is a method by which the rates of stellar approach and
recession can theoretically be determined ; but as yet it has
not been applied with anything like exactness.

It ap]iears proliable that the average rate of stellar travel
is about twenty miles per second, a wonderful velocity if we
consider that each star is a sun like our own, and that, like
the rest, our sun, with his family of planets, is travelling
with kindred velocity through space.

By Richaed A. Proctor.

I WRITE my Gossip for this month " by Susquehanna's side,"
at Wilkes-Barre, IPennsylvania, and in a hotel called "The
Wyoming Centre." As I write, a wretched steam-whistle
is sounding out the signal demanded by law when steamers
on a river sight each other; but otherwise, as the shades of
evening close over the scene, it is easy to conceive that in
the days of the imaginary " (Jertrude " the valley of the
Susquehanna looked much as it appears before me now, save
for a very modern and business-like bridge just within sight
on the right.

* * *

The story is a touching one as Campbell tells it. It is a
slight matter that Wyoming is never pronounced Wy'oming,
as the rhythm requires in the line

On Susquehanna's side fair Wyoming ;

but always Wyoming. Unhappily, there is a much more
serious detail in which reality and the Gertrude story are at
issue. Campbell remarks, and might with fail' reason have
remarked, had he ever visited the Wyoming Valley, that

" though the wild flower on the crumbled wall " and " ruined
homes a sad remembrance bring " (so nearly as my memory
serves me) " of what thy gentle people did beftd, yet thou,"
meaning Wyoming, "' wert once the loveliest land of all."
It rather destroys the charm of the legend to learn, as is
well known here " by Susquehanna's side," th.at of the three
hundred and more who went forth to attack the Indians on
that sad occasion, barely thirty were sober — all the sober
ones, by the way, escaping with their lives. The descend-
ants of the old settlers are a little sore when the real
inwardness of the old Wyoming story is mentioned, though
many of them mu.st of course be descended from the sober
thirty.

A CORRESPONDENT sends me a cutting from the Spectator, in
which a certain explosive is described which can produce
its full efl'ects without any heavy substance like cannon,
mortars, or the like, from which it need be discharged.
From a paper tubing it would be as effective as from a
twenty- ton gun. Hence certain direful effects are anticipated
for nations like the Swiss, who have hitherto owed their
safety solely to the difficulty of conveying artillery into
their mountain fa.stnesses. My correspondent asks whether
such an explosive and such singularly " light " artillery are
possibilities. They will become so when " action and
reaction " cease to be equal and opposite; that is, never.

* * *

Another correspondent asks me whether I consider the
influence of the moon on the weather worth the attention
given to it in a recent number of Longman's Magazine.
Since I consider the influence of the moon on the weather
as nearly as possible nil, it should hardly be necessary for
me to say that I do not. Regarded as superstitions be-
longing to the old time when the moon shared with the sun
and planets very potent influence over man, the fancies
about the moon's weather significance are quaint and
amusing enough. But it would be a waste of time to con-
sider whether after all there may not be some meaning
in them, since, without a single exception, they bear the
clearest traces of their unscientific origin.

* * *

There is one lunar fancy only which has (though its inven-
tors knew nothing of this) a quasi-scientific interpi'ttation. I
refer to the notion that if the old moon is seen very distinctly
in the new moon's arms wet weather will probably follow.
As I pointed out many years ago, illumination of the moon
by the earth, when, the moon being " new," the earth is
" full " to her, must be to some degree greater when the
earth's sunward face is cloud-covered — and as that face lies
west of the observer's station when the new moon is seen in
the west (the sun having recently set) we have in the bright-
ness of the old moon in the new moon's arms a certain
indication of cloudy skies west of the observer, whence
usually weather travels. But those who know how per-
sistently the old moon is seen clearly and strongly, even to
the time of the moon's first quarter, in countries which have
clear skies, while in hazy climes the old moon is seldom seen,
must feel well assured that the distinctness of the old moon
depends fiir more on clearness of sky than on any increase in
the amount of " earth shine."

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT would like to see that explanation of
an ice yacht's travelling faster than the wind, to which
reference is made in my article on the curve in base-ball.
In one of the first few numbers of Knowledge such an
explanation is given. It may suffice to note here that with
a strong beam wind, if an ice yacht travels no faster than

December 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO'WLEDGE ♦

the wind, she is practically sailing 45 degrees or four points
from the effective wind resulting from the combination of
her own speed with the winds. If her speed is iacreased,
she is sailing closer to the effective wind. But an ice yacht,
which makes no way, and is little resisted bj' friction, can
sail much closer than four points to the effective wind — in
other words, her velocity will continue to increase long after
she has attained a velocity equal to the wind's.

Unfinished Worlds. By S. H. Paekes, F.R.A.S., F.L.S.
(London : Hodder & Stoughton. 18S7.) — It is not, at first
sight, very easy to see the raison J 'etre of Mr. Parkes's
volume, inasmuch as he simply reproduces (not even always
correctly) facts to be found in every modern work on popular
astronomy extant. The most apparently obvious motive
underlying his work would seem to be that of bolstering up
Su- J. W. Dawson's weak and inept attempt to disprove the
antiquity of man on the earth. But, having said this, we
must in candour add that our author describes the objects of
which he treats picturesquely enough, and that the perusal
of his book by those approaching the consideration of its
subject for the first time will be very likely to implant or
stimulate in them a taste for the study of the heavens.
We have said that 3Ir. Parkes is not always correct
in his reproductions of astronomical facts, in Ulustra-
tration of which assertion we may quote his dictum on
page 31, that it is " not determined whether the stars
making up the galactic region are arranged in the form of a
ring, with our sun and his planets in the centre," the fact
being that it has been incontestably proved that by no possi-
bility can such structure account for observed appearances.
He is seemingly familiar with Herschel's first diagram, and
knows nothing of what has been done since. Again, we
should like to know when — and by whom — the supposition
of the variability of Algol was found to be inconsistent with
that of the revolution of a large dark planet round it, as stated
on page 40. Further, he ought to be aware that the supposed
determinations of the axial inclination of Yenus to the
plane of her orbit are worthless; and, moreover, that a
dense atmosphere would keep in the heat like a blanket
and not suffer it to radiate into space as he imagines on
page 74. And yet again, what in the world does he
mean by Mars coming into '•partial opposition (I) . . .
about every two years " ? The synodical period of that
planet either is, or is not, 779'82 days. He should read
up the technical meaning of opposition in any standard
work on astronomy. He might as sensibly talk of partial
nothingness. Into his teleological argument it is wholly
needless that we should follow him ; though we may
perhaps point out that on page 223, among other places, he
muddles up Darwin's theo»y with Lamarck's. Has he ever
opened "The Origin of Hpecies"] Students of celestial physics
will be cui ious to know how and when Dr. Huggins (with
Dr. W. A. ]\Iiller at his elbow) ever had to ask Dr.
Frankland and IMr. Lockyer to corroborate his observations ;
while astronomers will laugh outright to find the last-
named gentleman's name quoted as that of an authority,
in company with those of 8ir William Thomson (not
Thom^json, as Mr. Parkes calls him), and Professors Young
and Langley, on page 62.

Aslronomicnl RevJ/ttions. (London: E. Dexter. 1887.) — •
It is difiicult to enter into the feelings of a man who,
knowing nothing whatever of his .subject, sets himself calmly
to dogmatise upon matters of scientific fact of whose true
nature and bearings he is in the most profound ignorance.

and who claims to teach that of which he has not himself
the most distant glimmering. Of the supernal conceit of
the anonymous author of the mass of rubbish whose title
heads this notice some idea may be formed from the
peroration of his first chapter, in which he has bean
asserting that the precession of the equinoxes is caused
by the trade winds blowing the earth round Mi " And
thus," he says, " more than two thousand years after
the discovery of the phenomenon by Hipparchus, the
true physical cause of the precession of the equinoctial
points now, for the firsc time, stands revealed to the human
intellect." Eeally the idea underlying this explanation (1)
is delightful. The gentleman who lifted himself by the
waistband of his own trowsers — to employ a current col-
loquialism— " wa.sn't in it " with our author. Pending his
purchase, and study, of some shilling book on mechanics,
we would suggest a simple experiment to him. It is to take
a pair of bellows into a sailing boat, and see how fast he
can drive her along by their aid. In Chapter II. the
secular acceleration of the moon's mean motion is traced to
" the earth's rotatory motion round the axis of the ecliptic."
In Chapter III. we learn that the diminution of the
obliquity of the ecliptic will continue until it and the plane of
the equator coincide I Chapter lY. shows that there is no
such a thing as aberration ; in fact, that Bradley was a
mere idiot. It is the deviation of the plumb-line that
causes what we call aberration! ^wt finis coronal opus,
and, just as schoolboys save up a piece of crackling or fat for
the last, so has our author reserved his choicest revelation
for his concluding chapter. The Hersehels — father and son
— Miidler, Struve, Proctor, and others have fondly theorised
on the constitution and structure of oar stellar surround-
ings, on the assumption that the fixed stars are (practically)
infinitely distant suns like our own. Not a bit of it !
" The sun, which occupies the centre of our solar system, is
the only visible self-luminous body at present existing in
the celestial spaces." We are surrounded by a concave
sphere of land and water, from the internal surface of which
this sun is reflected hundreds and thousands of times (of
course only from the water). But, as in the case of the
earth, what is now land may in time become water, and vice
versd, so that when a fresh bit of the concave becomes
watery enough to reflect our sun, a new star appears ! We
feel that an apology is due to our readers for wasting even
the space we have done over such utter, irredeemable trash
as this ; but (always assuming that the writer of it is
responsible for his actions) no denunciation can be too
severe of any one of his intellectual calibre who presumes
to teach that of which he knows less than nothing. His
fan-ago of nonsense is beautifully printed and bound.

Seven the Sacred Number. By Eichahd Samuell.
(London : Kegan Paul, Trench, k Co. 1887.) — Reflecting
on the shortness of human lite, there is something terribly
saddening in the thought of the awful waste of time of
which the author has been guilty in the compilation of the
astonLshing mass of puerilities which make up the volume
before us. He suflfers from what we may call septemania,
in the most virulent form. Everything (he fancies) — or
nearly everything — in the Bible is septenary in its arrange-
ment or signification, or both ; and when it is not, Mr.
Samuell insists that it ought to be, and punctuates, re-
divides, alters, or otherwis3 juggles with the text in order
to make it so. The amount of the most perverse ingenuity
he exhibits in his exegetic ramblings is marvellous. He ha.s,
moreover, the most supernal contempt for Biblical critics
who differ with him, and pooh-poohs poor creatures like
Westcott and Hort without mercy when their interpreta-
tion of a pas.sage clashes with his own heptadic tomfoolery.
Leaving, however, his work in its more purely theological

44

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

aspect to the tender mercies of competent Hebrew scholars,
let us turn for a few moments to his chapter on " The
Number Seven in Nature." Now, to begin with, he here
alles;es that there are seven constituent colours in white
light, which everyone possessing the merest smattering of
science knows to be false. So, again, with our arbitrary
arrangement of seven musical tones. But it is when our
author arrives at our absolutely artificial systems of classifi-
cation in the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms that he
shines the most. That they are purely conventional and in-
vented to facilitate the study of the objects included in the
various categories never seems to have occurred to him ; and
the way in which he gets seven out of Cuvier's classification is
delightful. A page or two further on he is driven to sepa-
rate the aquatic mammalia (as a class) from the terrestrial
ones to eke out one of his " sevens," and, later still, to adopt
a kind of table from Mr. Ralph Tate to show that there
were seven geological epochs I He is very great, too, in
chemistry, and it will, we think, rather astonish Professors
Eoscoe and Schorlemnier to see how ingeniously details in
their classical book are twisted to fit Mr. Samuell's craze.
We almost wonder that, in this connection, he did not give
the seven bodies in alchemy. What we have said about
zoological classification may be repeated, mutatis mutandis,
with reference to our absolutely artificial arrangement of
clouds ; while, on cognate pi-inciples, he finds seven conti-
nents and seven oceans in the globe. The human body
bothers him rather more, and here he flounders considerably
in his efforts to show indications of some heptadic arrange-
ment. Even the exploded delusion of phrenology hiis to be
invoked to drag in thirty-five primitive faculties and seven
rules ! Then there are seven races of men, seven sciences
(Heaven save the mark !), and we sulisequently are treated
to some of the arithmetical properties of the number seven.
As our author obviously knows nothing whatever of the
theory of numbers, he may be surprised to learn that the
properties which so astonish him have their origin in our
decimal system of notation, and would pertain to another
number in, say, a duodecimal one. But we have already
devoted very much moi'e space than it deserves to a book
which would be merely ridiculous but for the pity we must
perforce feel for its author. Wrapped up^ in an overwhelm-
ing sense of his own almost superhuman wisdom and acumen,
he is calmly thankful that to him has been revealed, in these
latter days, that hidden meaning of the Bible, and, incident-
ally, of creation generally, which has hitherto been concealed
from the best and wisest of mankind. To any one who
cares to peruse a perfect example of what we have previously
spoken of as the most absolutely perverse literary ingenuity
we commend the study of " Seven the Sacred Number."
But he ought to be a good-tempered man, of large and
charitable views, or he may finish by speaking very dis-
respectfully indeed even of the author's common sense.

A Treatise on Geometrical Optics. By R. S. Heath,
M.A. D.Sc. (Cambridge University Press. 1887.) — Dr.
Heath's volume may be described, with but scant exaggera-
tion indeed, as the very model of what a work on
geometrical optics should be. He has availed himself cf
the researches of Abbe, Gauss, Helmholtz, Listing, and
Maxwell, to say nothing of those of Cayley, Lloyd,
Rayleigh, and Tait, with the result that he has succeeded
in producing a text-book of great excellence. In the case
of Gauss's theory of lenses. Dr. Heath works it out by
elementary geometrical methods in accordance with the
general plan of his work ; but subsequently supplements
this by Gauss's own beautiful analysis ; which we a little
fear will have to be skipped by many who will otherwise
make good use of the book. The examples appended to
each chapter seem remarkably well chosen. The chapters

on recent improvements in the microscope, and on meteoro-
logical optics, contain much that is at once novel and
interesting.

Philip's Flanisphere, showing the principal Fixed Stars
visible for every Hoiir in the Year from Lat. 35° South.
(London ; G. Philip & Son.) — This planisphere is identical
in form with that of the Northern Sky, issued by the same
publishers, of which we were enabled to speak so favourably
on page 21 of our tenth volume, and will be found corre-
sponding!)' useful by dwellers in South Australia, New
Zealand, South Afiica, and part of South America.

Elementary C'heuiistri/. By M. M. Pattison ^Iuir, M.A.,
and Charles Slater, M.A., M.B. Practical Chemistry.
By M. M. Pattison Muir, M.A., and Douglas Carnegie,
B.A. (London : C. J. Clay & Sons ; Cambridge : Deighton,
Bell, & Co.) — Conscientiously written and brought carefully
up to the present stage of our knowledge, the two volumes
whose titles head this notice form an admirable and
thoroughly trustworthy introduction to the study of
chemistry ; and the beginner who will lead them attentively
through and perform the experiments described in the second
of them with his own hands will have acquired a sound
knowledge of the fundamental principles of the science, and
laid a solid foundation for future study. The experiments
seem particularly well chosen. We have, of course, made
no attempt to check the figures which abound in the book,
but, opening " Practical Chemistry " almost at random at
page 20G, we find the logarithm of 0'3937 given as
9 5951742; the real log. of 03937 being 9 (or, strict!)',
1) -5951654.

Moffatt's Deductions from Euclid. (London : Moffatt &
Paige.) — These are series of riders, corollaries, itc, to the
familiar propositions of the first sis books of Euclid, some
of them original and others derived from various sources.
Their great use lies in the means they afford the student of
finding out how far he has understood the various pro-
blems and theorems which they illustrate;, and for this pur-
pose they seem remarkably well adapted.

An Elementary Treatise on Light and Heat. By Rev.
F. WiLKiNS Aveling, M.A., B.Sc. (Loudon : Relfe
Brothers.) — Elementary Chemistry. By J. C. Buckmaster.
Revised and Corrected by C. A. Bickmastek, M.A., F.C.S.
(London : Moffatt & Paige.) — A Pupil Teacher's Handbook
of Alijebra. By Rev. A. D. Capel, M.A. (London : Joseph
Hughes. 1887.) — Innumeral)le additions have been made
to our textbooks of science since the craze for examination
set in, and " the cry is still. They come." Many of the
more recent ones have been leally too good for merely
cramming purposes, and Mr. Aveling's work is among them.
Both Mr. Buckmaster 's and Mr. Capel's books too at least
fulfil the purpose for which they were written.

A Treatise on the Ititegral Calculus. Part I. By Ralph
A. Roberts, M.A. (Dublin : Hodges, Figgis, & Co. Lon-
don : Longmans, Green, tt Co. 1887.) — We have a solitary
fixnlt to find with Mr. Roberts's valuable addition to our
mathematical text-books. It is this : that his own ac-
quaintance with his subject is so intimate and profound
that he occasionally loses sight of the fact that the student
must, ex necessitate, approach its con.sideration from a dif-
ferent standpoint, or lower level altogether, than he does.
But having said this, we have little but praise for his book.
His explanation of elliptic integrals is remarkably good,
and throughout the work the numerous and well-chosen
examples leave nothing to be desired.

The Peal History of the Posicrucians. By Arthur
Edward Waite. (London : George Red way. 1887.) —
We would recommend Mr. Waite's very painstaking
volume to all who may be desirous to get to the back of the

December 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE

45

Eosicrucian mystery (or imposture). So much nonsense
has been talked and written about this imaginary order
that it is quite refreshing to find a writer competent and
willing to reduce the legend to its true proportions, and
show how and when it had its origin. In Mr. Waite's
pages we are furnished with the means of estimating the
rhapsodies of such writers as Fludd, Yaughan, and Heydon
at their true value, and of realising the extent to which
such deceivers were themselves deceived. "We cannot quite
agree with our author that '• there is no traceable con.
nection between Masonry and Rosicrucianism," because
every mason will at once detect the extent to which the
imaginary ceremonial of the supposititious sect was bor-
rowed from masonic ritual. Mr. Waite is justifiably severe
on the modern aping of the non-existent msdiceval fraternity.

A Professor of Alchenuj. By Peucy Ross. (London :
George Red way. 1887.) — In the volume before us, Mr.
Ross has told the painful story of Denis Zachaire, an
alchymist of the sixteenth century. His weary toil after
the secret of the [ihilosopher's stone, and supposed success ;
his marriage with a nun who had fled from the vice of a
convent ; her batrayal, by one of the French nobility, to
the bloodthirsty scoundrels who, under the title of the Holy
Inquisition, so admirably illustrated one phase of the
" infallibility " of the Romish Church ; her death by poison,
and the subsequent murder of Zachaire himself by De
Fonce, afford a vivid picture of those bad old times for
whose return some perverted intellects yet sigh, happUy
in vain.

First Lessons in Science. By the Eight Rev. .J. W.
CoLENSO, D.D. (Bishop of Xatal). (London : "William
Ridgway. 1887.) — Here is the most delightful and instruc-
tive introduction to astronomy for children that we have,
so far, ever come across. It appeiirs to have been written
twenty-seven years ago, but for the purpose of introducing
the young to a knowledge of the system of which our own
world forms a member, and of the universe of suns by which
it is surrounded, it is as valuable now as on the day in
which it was penned. The old solar jiarallax was, of course,
employed by Dr. C'olenso, and the editor of this reissue of
the bishop's work has left the resultiug figures and quan-
tities intact in it. This, however, can interfere but slightly,
if at all, with the educational value of the book, which we
heartily commend to all who are interested in the intro-
duction of science into our elementary schools.

Slulies in Machine Desijn. By C. F. Archer. Series I.
and 11. (London : Griffith, Farran, Okeden .fc Welsh.) —
These clearly executed examples of mechanical di-awing will
be found useful alike to the apprentice in the drawing-room
and to the fitter at the lathe or bench. The first series con-
sists of six plates of elementary examples, showing how to
draw such simple pieces of mechanism as bolts and nuts,
pistons, cylinder covers, <fco. The second is of a more ad-
vanced character, antj deals with a launch engine as a whole
and in detail. Any tolerably intelligent mechanic ought to
be able to read a drawing from a study of Mr. Archer's
examples.

The Decorators Assistant. Second Edition, Revised.
(London : Crosby Lockwood & Co. 1887.) — The anony-
mous compiler of this mass of receipts, &c., has done real
service not only to the professional decorator, but to every
household whatever. Any one who wishes to make his
house beautiful, externally or intemallj-, should purcha-se
this remarkable shilling's-worth straightway. He will find
aU that he requires, and much more besides, between its two
covers.

We regret that space is too limited to permit us to do
other than call the attention of our readers to, and urge

their support of, Messrs. Smith <fe Elder's monumental
enterprise, the Dictionary of National Biography, of which
Volume XII. lies before us. There is no slackening of zeal,
but rather a quickening of endeavour, in the promise of a
yet more rapid issue of a work which is a credit to private
enterprise, and as complete as the skill and erudition of
Mr. Lsslie Stephen can make it. The present volume
carries us to '• Craigie."

Among the current journals and serials we single out for
special notice the Eiliiihurijh Review, which gives an ad-
mirable and instructive critique of Mr. Lecky's new
volumes of his " History of the Eighteenth Century ; "
Longman's Magazine, with its striking and novel account
of the " peculiar people " of Salonika, Jews by descent and
belief, but outwardly followers of Mahomet ; and the
Westminster Reviev, with a brief but vivid sketch of
Emerson, and an encouraging article on the " Progress of
the Masses." As for St. Nicholas, it remains far and away
the best magazine for boys and girls, but we think the
British public is getting weavy of the American presidents
and generals who have for months monopolised the pages of
the Century Magazine.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR DECEMBER.

By F.R.A.S.

HROUDED in the mists wbicii obscure the winter
horizon, and destitute of spots for days and even
weeks at a time, the sun has ceased for the present
to be an object of interest to the observer. He
attains his greatest south declination in the early
morning of December 22, which is thus " the
shortest day." The night sky will be found de-
picted on map sii.of "The Stars in their Seasons."
Slinimaot Algol (same map) willoccurat llh.35m.
P.M. on the Sth, at 8h. 23m P.M. on the 11th, at .5h. 12m. P.M. on
the 14th, and at lOh. 6m. P.M. on the 31st, as also at other times
less convenient for the amateur. Mercury is a morning star
throughout December. He attains his greatest western elongation
from the sun (20° 32') on the Sth. He rises some two hours before
the sun at the beginning of the month, but is travelling so rapidly
southward that his detection towards the end of it is in the last degree
doubtful. Venus is a morning star too, and is a most brilliant and
conspicuous object in the south-east before sunrise. She is at her
greatest elongation west of the sun (46° 47') on December 2. In
the telescope she presents the figure of the moon about the time of
her last quarter. Jlars and Jupiter are, for the observer's purpose,
still invisible. Saturn, however, is now coming into view again, as
he rises about eight o'clock in the evening at the beginning of the
month, and before 6h. P.M. at the end of it. But little alteration is
noticeable in his ring system. He will be found to the west and
north of S Cancti (" The Stars in their Seasons," map iii.) Uranus
is invisible ; but Xeptune may be picked up in the locality indicated
in this column last month. The moon enters her last quarter at
3h. 10 8m. in the early morning of the Sth, and is new at 7h. 21-om.
in the evening of the 14th. She enters her first quarter at 7h. l-2m.
A.M. on the 22nd, and isfuU on the morning of the 30th at 8h. 14-3m.
Four occultations only of fixed stars by the moon will occur during
December at convenient hours for the amateur observer. On the
evening of the 1st she will have occulted 119 Tauri, of theo^th.and
120 Tauri, of the 6 ih, magnitude, before she rises ; but the reappear-
ance of the first-named star at her dark limb may be seen at 5h. 18m.
P.M.. at an angle of 248° from her vertex ; and that of the second at
5h. 46m. P.M., at an angle from her vertex of 272°. Next, on the
18th, 1 Capricorni, a star of the 4Jth magnitude, will disappear at her
dark limb at oh. 58m. P.M., at "an angle from her vertex, of 103°,
reappearing at her bright limb 6h. 59m. P M., at a vertical angle of 350°.
Finall}-, on the 27th, 75 Tauri, a 6th magnitude star, will disappear
at the dark limb of the moon at 6h. 26m. P.M., at an angle of 55°
from her vertex, and will reappear at her bright limb at 7h. 35m.
P.M., at an angle from her vertex of 274°. When these notes open
the moon is in Tatirus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.),
through which she is travelling until 2h. 30m. A.M. on the 2nd, at
which hour she arrives at the western boundary of the northerly
prolongation of Orion. When, by 2 o'clock the same afternoon, she
has crossed this, she emerges in Gemini (" The .Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiv.). Her journey through Gemini occupies her tmtil

46

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1887.

lOh. A.M. on the 4th, when she enters Cancer. She remains in
Cancer until llh. 30m. P.M. on the 5th, and then passes into Leo.
She does not leave Leo for Virgo C'The Seasons Pictured," plate
XXV.) until 2 P.M. on the 8th. She is in Virgo until Ih. P.M. on the
11th, and then crosses the boundary into Libra ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxvi.). As she traverses Libra she, at 6h. 30m.
A.M. on the 13th, reaches the western edge of the narrow northern
spike of Scorpio, her passage across which she completes by
3 o'clock the same afternoon and comes out into Ophiuchus. She
remains in Ophiuchus until 4h. A.M. on the 15th at which hour she
quits it for Sagittarius. She is travelling through Sagittarius until
lOh. A.M. on the 17th, when she enters Capricornus ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate sxi.). She passes from Capricornus into Aquarius
at lOh. A.M. on the IDth, and at 5h. P M. on the 21st leaves the last-
named constellation and enters Pisces ("The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xsii.). As she traverses Pisces she touches the boundary
between it and Cetus, and passes into the last-named constellation
at llh. A.M. on the 22nd. At 6 P.M. on the 23rd she emerges into
Pisces, only, however, to re-enter Cetus at 5h. p.m. on the 24th.
When she tinally leaves Cetus, at 7h. A.M. on the 25th, it is to pass
into Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). 30 minutes after
noon on the 26th she quits Aries for Taurus. Travelling, as at the
beginning of the month, through Taurus, she reaches the western
edge of the northernmost part of Orion, at tlh. 30m. A.M., on the
2i)th. She takes until 9 o'clock the same evening to traverse this,
and then, as before, emerges in Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xsiv.). She is crossing Gemini until 4 P.M. on the 31st, at
which hour she enters Cancer. She is, of course, in Cancer when
our notes terminate.

€)m WRWt Column.

By "Five op Clubs."

MATHEWS ON WHIST.

KUPI-'ING AND FOBCING.
EVER rulf an uncertain card if strong in trumps,
or omit doing so if weak. The last rule is one of
the few universal maxims in whist, and cannot be
too rigidly adhered to. It is right even when you
know the best card ot the suit is in your partner's
hand. It has the double advantage of making a
useless trump and telling your partner the state
^ of your hand, so that he will play accordingly.
[hulling has this further advantage, that if your partner has the
best card guarded, he remains with command over the suit — pre-
sumably the adversary's : this may be a decisive advantage later on.
I suppose Mathews would scarcely insist on the ruff if partner is
known to have the best card single. There are cases, however,
where even in this position it is best to ruff. The trump card may
be absolutely useless, and so nothing be lost, while it may be of
critical importance to let partner know your weakness. Usually,
however, in such a case the proper course would be to discard from
a suit in which you may have a chance of getting a ruff more pro-
titably. The former part ot the above rule is by no means so con-
stant a maxim as the latter. Thus with six trumps it is usually
well to ruff an uncertain card and go on with trumps. Even with
five trumps it is often well to ruff, not following, however, with a
trump lead. There are positions, though they are seen but seldom,
when it is well to rufl: from strength though your partner holds the
winning card (guarded), merely that he may be left with command
of the enemy's suit. Still, as a general rule, with strength in
trumps, a doubtful card should not be ruffed. In the next para-
graph (not the next, in his book, however, by any means) Mathews
discusses this matter keenly and justly, being especially careful to
consider cases where the general rules, on which he properly insists,
must be set aside.]

With a strong hand in frumps, particularly if you have a long
suit, avoid ruffing j'our right-hand adversary as much as possible.
As this is a maxim less understood, less followed, and more indis-
pensably necessary than almost any other, I will endeavour to
explain it to beginners as clearly as I can.

If cards are nearly equal, the point to which the manceuvres of
all good whist-players tend is, on the one hand, to establish a long
suit, preserving the last trump to bring that suit into play; and, on
the other hand, to frustrate the same play ot the adversaries.
With an honour, or even a ten, and three other trumps, you have a
right — if onl_v you manage your trumps well — to expect success.
In this case, if your right-hand adversary trumps a suit of which
you are void, do not over-trump, but throw away a losing card ; by
this, since only twelve trumps remain, your own hand is strengthened,

while whatever suit is led your partner has the tenace;* whereas,
had you over-ruft'ed you would have given up the whole game to
secure one trick. [For you remain with only three small trumps
out of eleven left, and the tenace in your long suit remains with the
enemy.]

There are cases, however, in which you break through this rule,
viz. : —

First, if your left-hand adversary has shown a decided great
hand in trumps— in which case make your tricks while you can.

Secondly, if your partner evidently meant to force you. To
understand whether this is the case or not, note whether your
partner played the winning card or a losing card of the suit of
which you are void : if he played the winning card, it is by no
means clear he meant to force you, and you should play your own
game. It he played a losing card [knowing you to be void in the
suit], you are to suppose him [if he understands the game]
to be strong in trumps, and may depend on that strength of his to
protect your long suit.

Due reflection on the case last considered will show you the value
of the maxim which enjoins that you should never play a strong
game with a weak hand, or rice fcrsd. [Mathews means that re-
flection on the inferences you draw from J'our partner's lead, in the
case considered, shows j'ou the importance of always suggesting
correct inferences yourself, when in a similar case you have to lead ;
and thus Mathews enforces the general rule rhat your leads should
always be such as to convey correct ideas as to your strength or
weakness.] A few deviations from this effectually destroy the con-
fidence which is necessary between partners : a confusion results
which cannot but have the most disastrous consequences. Inatten-
tion to this rule cannot be too carefully avoided or too strenuously
deprecated.

If strong in trumps, with the commanding card of the adver-
saries' suit and small ones, force your partner, if he has none of
that suit, with the small ones, reserving the commanding card to
the last.

It is a general maxim not to force your partner, unless strong in
trumps yourself. There are, however, many exceptions to this rule,
as —

First. If your partner has led from a single card. [In this
case you force him to make the best of a bad business.]

Secondly. If the ruff saves or wins a particular point.

Tliirilhj. If great strength in trumps is declared against you.

Fourthly. If j'ou have the chance of a " saw."

Fifthhj. If your partner has been forced and did not follow with
a trump lead.

Sixthly. It is often right in playing for the odd trick.

As regards forcing the enemy, —

Always force the strong, seldom the weak, never both adver-
saries. In this third case, you play your adversaries' game, and
give the one an opportunity to make his small trumps while the
otlier throws away his losing cards. Careless forcing is a very
gpneral as well as fatal error; the extent of the mischief is seldom
comprehended by unskilful players, who, seeing the good eifect of
judicious forces, practise them indiscriminately, to their almost
constant disadvantage.

The following case, shoviiing the effect of a force, is too obvious
not to be instantly comprehended ; but the student should note
that the same principle operates through the fifty-two cards,
however various their combinations ; and that its steady considera-
tion [or rather its thorough mastery] is one of the most necessary
steps towards an insight into the game : —

A has a seizieme major in trumjjs, a quart major in one plain
suit, and a tierce major in another suit ; and his adversary (either
on the right or left) has six small trumps and the entire command
of the fourth suit. In this case, one force on A gives B the odd
trick ; without such a force B loses every trick. Though so great
an effect may seldom be produced, sliil there is scarcely a rubber
where the truth of the general principle involved is not experiment-
ally proved.

It is easy soon to discover the different strengths ot [hands held
bj'] good players, but more diiBcult with bad ones. When an adversary
refuses to trump, and throws away a small card, you conclude [if he
is a good player] that his hand consists of a strong suit in trumps,
with one strong and another weaker suit. It he discards an honour,
you know he has two suits only, one of which is trumps ; in this
case win tricks when you can. Avoid leading trumps when an
adversary has thus declared trump strength, or to his plain suit
force him, and give your partner an opportunity to trump if

■" Mathews uses the word "tenace " in its proper sense, as signify-
ing "the advantage " of position. There is no connection whatever,
as many mistakenly imagine, between the cards ten and ace and
the tenace. The word is French, and indicates the " hold " which
a player has in particular positions.

December 1, 1887.]

KNOAVLEDGE ♦

47

possible. This line of play cannot be too maturely considered. A
fault constantly committed by bad players, and among those most
fatal in their consequences, is to lead trumps in defiance of common-
sense, the moment an adversary refuses to ruff— though a winning
card ; they thus not unfrequently give away five or six tricks, which
a judicious force would have saved.

Do not ruff a thirteenth card second band if strong; but always
if weak in trumps. If strong in trumps do not ruff the second best
of any suit your partner leads, but throw away a losing card unless
you have an established saw.

(Til be continued.)

A correspondent sends the following whist problem : —

a.

THE HANDS.
(trumps). — A, K, Q, 3.
—A, Q, 7, 6, 4, M.

B

C. (t/)s).—Kn, 10, 9.
D.— K, ;i.

S.— 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 2.
H.-S, 4.

Y

Z

Tr. Clubs
A leads.

S.— A, Q.
H.— 2.

C. (tjis).—S, 6, 5. T

D.— Kn, 10, 8. [

S— K, li. ("

H.— 10, 9, 7, (i, 5. J

. rC. {trumps).—-, 4, 2. S.— Kn, 10, 3. \

■^ 1 D.— 5, 2. H.— A, K, Q, Kn, 3. /

Clubs trumps — A to play and win all the (thirteen) tricks.

In all such problems, where one hand of the losing side seems to
hold every suit guarded, as Z does here, the method of attack must
be by forcing discards. I have not time to play out the hands
(being, at the moment, very busily engaged on a lecture tour, with
much literary work on hand), but I have no doubt the following
line, if played, will win. A leads soades, B wins the trick and
leads out his four trumps, then, according to Z's discard, B and A
win the remaining tricks between them. Observe, that if Z's dis-
card be the spade king, then A must presently discard the spade
queen, so that B may make two spade tricks. If Z discards either
heart or diamond, the rest of the solution is simplicity itself.

iBut Cftesig Columm

By " llEPHISTO."

MATCH, BLACKBUKSE v. GUNSBERG.
GAME v.— (King's Gambit Declined.)

GuDsb^rg.

1. V to K4

2. Pto KB4
S. Kt toyB3

4. Kt to li3

5. B to E4

6. P to Q3

7. P to Bo

8. P to QB3 (i) Kt X B

9. P X Kt Q to K2

(21m.) (33m.

0. B to Kl5 P to QB3

1. It to KBsci(o)PtoQKt4

2. PxP RPxP

Bl.^ck.
Blackburne.
PtoK4
B to Bt
Pto Q3
Kt to KB3
Kt to B3
P to gR3 (a)
Kt to QR4

23.

24.

28,

30.

13. P to QKt4(';) B to Kt3

14. Q to Q3

15. Pto KK.tl

16. KR to Ktsq

17. BxKt
Q to g2

(53m.)
Q to Rfi
R to Kt3

18,

19.
20.

21. R to R3

Castl«s (r)
B to Qsq
Q to B2
PxB(/)
K to Rsq

(5Sm)
KR to Ktsq
y to K2

(Ih.)
R to Kt2

22. Kt to K2 (g) P to Qt (A)
(Ih.) (Ih. 18m.)

WiirrE.
Guns berg.
Kt to Kt3
KxR

K to K2 ()•)
Kt to R5
Kt X R ( /■)
(Ih. 43m.)
QxQ
PxP
Kt to Q2

31. RtoQKt3

32. K to B3

33. R to Ktsq

34. KtxB

35. P to B3 (l)

36. R to QMsq
(Ih. 54m.)

37. P to R4 («0

38. P to Kt5

39. R X P

40. PxP

41. RxP

42. R to B7

43. R to Kt7
(2h. 5m.)

Drawn game.

Blac:%.

Blaciburne.
RxKP
Q X P (ch)
QxK
Q to Rsq
QxKt

(lb. 21m.)
KxQ
PxP
P to Kto
B to R3 (ch)
B toK2
B to Bo (i)
PxKt
PxP
B to Kt5

(lb. 34m)
P to R4
B to K2
PxP
BxP
B to B3
Kto B3
K> P

(Ih. 55m.)

Notes.

(a) This is done to prevent the exchange of B for Kt and the
threatening of B to K Kt5.

(A) The object of this move, which we imagine comes too late, is
to prevent B to Kto after Kt x B.

(<•) To provide against P to K Kt3.

(d) Necessary to prevent the break-up of the position bv
P to Kt5.

(c) Premature; B to Q2, because of his subsequent troubles,
would have been much better.

(/) PxP is a blunder, which ought to have lost the game.
B X P is much superior.

(17) With the object of reaching Ro.

(/() Black evidently calculated upon sacrificing QR, but, as will
be seen afterwards, this desperate remedy should be of no avail
against best play. If Black had continued Q to Bsq the game might
have proceeded— 23. Kt to Kt3, Q to Ktsq ; 24. P to Kt5, PxP;
25. Kt to R5, P to Kt5 ; 26. R to Kt3, &c.

(i) White here misses the win ; Kt to Q2 was the winning move,
for Black could not play Q x R on account of White's reply
Q X Rch, K X R, Kt to R5 ch regaining Q with a rook ahead.

(j) Although from the appearance of the position it would seem
at tirst glance that White could have done better, yet on closer
examination it will be found that any other line of play would
not have been favourable for White. If, for example, White
played 27. P to Kt.5, P x KP, and White cannot play 28. P x BP on
account of R to Kt7ch.

(/t) P to R4 would have been stronger.

(/) This move ensures the draw.

(«() White's object, having sacrificed the pawn, is to gain both
pawns on QB file by playing up his King, but he seeks to provide
against P to Kl first.

GAME

^VH!TE.

Gun^berg.

1. P to K4

2. P to KB4

3. PxP

4. B to Kt5 (ch)
(3m.)

5. PxP
(4m.)

6. P to Qt

(,.im.)

7. Kt 10 B3
(5m.)

8. B to Q2 (d)
(Sm.)

9. BxKt(ch)

(15m.)
P to QR3

(1.5ra.)
PxB

(21m.)
KxP

(22ra.)

VII.— (Falkbeer Countre Gambit.)

10

11.

12,

Black.
Blackhurae.
Pt to K4
Pto Q4
P to K5 («)
P toB3

(Im.)
Kt X P (4)

(3m.)
Q to R4 (ch) (c)

(4m.)
B to QKt5

(om.)
Kt to B3

(15m.)
PxB

(15m.)
P to K6 (e)

(24m.)
PxB (ch)

(24m.)
QxP

(26m.)

13. Q to K2 ch (/) K to Bsq {{/)

"White
Gunsberp.

22. QR to R4
(52m.)

23. Kt X P
(53m.)

24. RxB
(53m.)

25. P to KKt3
(57m.)

26. KR to R2
(59m.)

27. RxP
(lb. Im.)

28. QR to R6
(Ih. Im.)

29. KxR
(lb. 3m )

30. K to Q3
(Ih. 3m.)

31. P to B5
(Ih. 4m.)

32. R to Q6
(Ih. 6m.)

33. R to Q8
(Ih. 7m.)

34. P to Q5
(Ih. Im.)

35. K to B4
(Ih. 8m.)

36. Kt to B3
(Ih. Sm.)

37. Pto B6
(Ih. 8m.)

38. Pto B7
(Ih. 9m.)

39. P X P
(Ih. 10m.)

40. P to Q6
(Ih. 10m.)

Br..\CK.
Blfickbume.
P to QR3

(Ih. 5m.)
BxKt

(lb. 12m.)
KtoB2

(Ih. 12m.)
R to QKtsq

(Ih. 14m.)
QR to Kt2

(lb. 14m.)
Kt to K2

(Ih. 15m.)
RxP (ch)

(Ih. 15m.)
R X R (ch)

(Ih. 15m.)
Kt to Bsq

(Ih. 16m.)
Kt to K2

(Ih. 16m.)
Kt to Bsq

(Ih. 21m.)
Kt to K2

(Ih. 22m.)
R to Kt4

(Ih. 25m.)
K to Kt7

(Ih. 25m.)
RxP

(Ih. 27m.)
P to Kt4

(Ih. 3.5m.)
PxP

(Ih. 35m )
R to KKt7

(Ih. 40m.)
Resigns.

(Ih. 40m.)

(29m.) (42m.)

14. Q to K5 Kt toKto(/«)

(3Sm.) (43m.)

15. Kto R4(() KtxQ(;)
(38m.) (.55m.)

16. R X Q (/!■) Kt to Kt3

(38m.) (57m.)

17. KKtto K2 Pto KB4

(40m.) (.">8m.)

IS. Kt to R4 B to K3
(42m.) (59m.)

19. P to in R to K>q
(43m.) (lb.)

20. Kt to B5 B to Bsq

(4.5m.) (Ih.)

21. R to Rsq R to K2
(46m.) (Ih. Im.)

Notes.
(a) An unsound defence ; P x P is preferable.
(//) P X P is the usual move.

((•) This and the following moves assist White in the develop-
ment of his game ; Black ought rather to have played Kt to B3.
(</) Best.

(f) This move promises a strong attack ; as the sequel shows, it is
of no avail.

(/) Much superior to K to Bsq.

(g) Difficult to choose. B to K3 loses the B, although Black would
have gained a strong attack ; if K to Qsq, ; White plays as in the
text ; if Q to K2, then R to Ksq.

(A) A tempting move. There was nothing else.

(i) The correct answer ; of course Black cannot take R.

(J) Q to Kt2 was slightly better, for if Q to K6 (ch), Q inter-

48

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

[December 1, 1887.

poses — Q X Q, K X Q, which is the most favourable continuation
Black can hope for ; he will now be able to bring his KR into play.
{k) There is now scarcely any chance for Black.

GAIVIE X.— (Queens Bishop's Opening.)

White.

Black.

White.

Bl..*CK.

B!a'-khuroe.

Giinsberg.

Blackburne.

Gunaberg.

1

Pto Ql

P to Q4

41.

Kt to Bo

P to B6

2

B to K4

Kt to KB3

.(2h. 17m.)

(Ih. 55m.)

3

P to Ki

P to B4

42

P to Kt5

BxP

(Im)

(4m.)

(21i. 22m,)

(Ih. 5Gm,)

4

Kt to KB3

P to K3

43

Kt to Q6

Q to Q2

(5m.)

(6m.)

(2h. 24m)

(lb. 5Gm.)

5.

P to B3 (a)

P to QR3

44

KtxB

QxKt

(7m.)

(9m,)

(2h. 25m.)

(lb. 56m.)

G.

B to Q3

P to B5

45.

RxP

Q to B5 («)

(10m)

(9m.)

(2h. 25m.)

(2h. 16m,)

7.

B toB2

P tu QKl4

46.

E to KB2

B to K2

(lOm.)

(lOm )

(2h. 36m.)

(2h. 20m )

S.

Castles

B to Kt2

47.

E to B7 (")

B to Q3

(11m.)

(10m.)

(2h. 44m.)

(2h. 25m.)

9.

QKt to Q2

QKt to Q2

48.

E to E6

K toB3

(14m.)

(11m.)

(2h. 45m.)

(2h. 27m.)

10.

E to Ksq

Kt to E4

49.

QE to B6

Q to B4

(18m.)

(12m.)

(2b. 51m.)

(2h. 27m.)

11.

B to KKt3 (A)Kt X B

50.

K to E2

K to Q2 ij>)

(25m.)

(12m.)

(2h. 54m.)

(2h. 34m )

12.

EP X Kt

P to B4 (c)

51.

R to R7 (ch)

K to Ksq

(2om.)

(13m.)

(2h. 54m.)

(2h. 36m.)

13.

Kt to Esq (>/} P to KB4 (f)

52.

R to K6 (ch)

B to K2

(31m.)

(19m.)

(2h. 55m.)

(2h. 39m,)

14.

QKt to E2

B to Q3

53.

E to QR6

K toQ2

(34m.)

(20m.)

(2h. 55m.)

(2h. 42m.)

1.5.

K to Bsq

P to Kt4

54.

E to Esq

P to B7

(38m.)

(21m)

(2h. 58m.)

(2h. 45m.)

16.

K to K2

P to KKto

55.

R to Bsq

Q to B6

(38m.)

(24m,)

(3h.)

(2h. 45m.)

17.

Kt to R4 (/:

Q to Kt4

56.

R to R5

K to K3

(41m.)

(29m,)

(3h. 10m.)

(2h. 48m.)

18.

E to Esq.

Pto R4

57.

E to R6 (ch)

B to B3

(45m.)

(30m.)

(3h. 12m)

(2h. 45m.)

19.

P to R3

B to R3

58.

Kt to Q2

Q xKt

(50m.)

(35m,)

(3h. 18m.)

(2h. 49m.)

20.

Kt to Bsq

K to Qsq

59.

R to KBsq

Q to B6

(Ih. Sm.)

(39m )

(3h. ISm.)

(2h. 49m.)

21.

Kt to Q2 Oj)

K to B2

60.

R to Kt6

P to BS

(Ih. 6m.)

(39m.)

(Queens) (q)

22.

K to Bsq

Kt to B3

(3h. 20m.)

(2h. 49m.)

(Ih. 9m.)

(52m.)

61.

QR X B (ch)

QxR

23.

Q to K2

Kt to K5

(Hh. 21m.)

(2h. 52m.)

(Ih. 20m.)

(56m,)

62.

R X Q (ch)

K to Q2

24.

BxKt

BP X B

(3h. 21m )

(2h. 52m.)

(Ih. 24m.)

(56m.)

63.

R to Q6 (ch)

K to B2

23.

K to Ktsq

KRto KBsq

(3h. 27m.)

(2h. 53m,)

(Ih. 25m )

(57iu.)

64.

E to Q7 (ch)

K to Kt3

26.

QE to KBsq

R 1 0 B3

(.3h. 32m.)

(2h. 53m.)

(Ih. 2Gm.)

(59m.)

65.

E X P (r)

QxP

27.

Q to Qsq

QR to KBsq

(3h.3.5m.)

(2b. 53m.)

(Ih. 33m)

(Ih,)

66.

E to Qsq

Q to Bl

23.

Q to K2

V to K4 (/()

(3h. 38m.)

(2b, 5im.)

(Ih 36m.)

(Ih. lOoi.)

67.

E to Ksq

Q to E4 (cb)

29.

Q to Ksi

R 10 K3 (0

(3h. 45m.)

(2h. 55m.)

(Ih. 44m.)

(Ih. 17m)

68.

K to Ktsq

Q to Kl'.4

£0.

PxP

BxP

(3h. 40m.)

(2b. 56m.)

(Ih, 53m.)

(Ih. 19m.)

69.

K to R2

K to B4

31.

Q to K2

Q to K2

(3h. 45m,)

(2b. 56m.)

(Ih. 54m.)

(Ih. 24m.)

70.

E to Qsq

K to B5

32.

R to Q:iq.

KR to B3

(3h. 46m )

(2b. 57m )

(lb. 56m.)

(Ih. 26aa )

71.

K to Ktsq

P to K6

33.

Kt to B,sq ij

P to Kt5 {k)

(3h. 49m.)

(2b. 59m.)

(Ih. 57m.)

(Ih. 30m.)

72.

KtoE2

P to K7

34.

EPxP

PxP

(3h. 50m,)

(2h. 59m.)

(Ih. 58m.)

(Ih. 31m.)

73.

E to QR«q

Kto Q6

35.

PxP

R X P (0

(3h. 57m.)

(3h.)

(Ih. 58m.)

(Ih. 58m.)

74.

E to QBsq

Kto Q7

36.

QxR

ExQ

(3h. 58m.)

(3h.)

(Ih. 59m.)

(Ih. 35m.)

75.

E to QRsq

Q to E4 (cb)

37.

KxR

Q toB2ch (m)

(3h. 5Sm.)

(3b.)

(Ui. 59m,)

(Ih. 40m.)

76.

K Ktsq

r Queens (ch)

38.

K to Ktsq

BxQKtP

(3h. 5Sm,)

(3h.)

(2h.)

(Ih. 40m)

77.

ExQ

Q to B4 (ch)

39.

R to Q2

BtoB3

(3h. 58m.)

(3h.)

(2h. 5m.)

(Ih. 46m.)

Resigns.

40.

EtoQR2
(2h. 10m )

K to Kt3
(Ih. 52m.)

Notes.

(it) Rather slow for the first player.

(i) This is not the best ; Kt to K5. or B to Kt5 is preferable.

(e) To prevent the advance of KP.

(il) White in this and the next few moves wastes valuable time.

((') Initiating the attack.

(/) This blocks up the knight, but if any ether move P to R5
follows.

((;) P to B4 was the right move here.

(A) The object being to get the KB in a good position, defend
the QB, and thus prepare for the advance of QKtP.

(i) Threatening P x P, and P to K6.

(,/) If M'hite played ii to KBsq, Black gets a winning advantage
by P to Kto.

(i) Better than R x P.

{1} Black has attained his object of weakening the White pawns,
and may now safely exchange rooks for Queen.

()«) Q to B3 (eh) was perhaps preferable.

(«) It was very difficult to decide which was the proper move, as
White's intention obviously is to bring boib rooks into play.

(o) If P to B7, followed by P queens, the win is not by any
means clearly evident.

(p) The ending was exceedingly difficult, as Black was afraid of
a draw by stalemate, but he could have played P to B7 instead.
White then answers Kt to Q2, P queens, Kt x P, Q(B4) x P, and
Black would win.

((j) Pr mature ; K to B2 was better, as it would have avoided the
stalemate position.

(r) If R to Q6 (cb), Q interposes ; and if R to Kt7 (ch), K to E4,
and ultimately reaches E7, and wins.

The Ereninu Star (Punedin, New Zealand), of September 7,
1887, states that there can be no doubt that Professor LoiSETTB's
.System of Memory-Training is of great practical utility, and refers to
information a Dunedin Student has acquired by the aid of the
System in these words: — "Jlr. W. B. Eyre has demonstrated to our
satisfaction that he can answer any questions correctly on the fol-
lowing subjects — The Kings and Queens of England ; the Kings
and Presidents of France ; the Presidents of America ; the names of
Shakespeare's plays and the characters in the principal tragedies;
the specific gravities of metals; the logarithms of numbers up to
100; when ancient philosophers and modern celebrities fiourished ;
the dates of various inventions; the winners of the English Derby
and the Melbourne, Sydney, and Dunedin Cups ; the averages made
in batting and bowling by the Australian cricketers in England
and the English team in Australia ; the results of the Otago and
Canterbury cricket matches and the Oxford and Cambridge boat-
races ; the heights of the notable mountains of the world and all New
Zealand ones, as well as of monuments and spires; the average
height of European soldiers ; and the length of the longest rivers in
the world, &c. By the aid of the system Mr. Eyre can also repeat
b.ickward as well as forward any list of figures wliich may be read
to him, and he also assures us tliat be recollects poetry and prose
with much greater ease than formerly. It is not improbable that
he will give a public exhibition of his powers."

Contents op No. 25.

PiQE
1

The Stre.%m of Lite

Collisions at Sea. By Gilbert R.

Faith 3

Watched b.v the Dead 5

Coal. Ev W. Mattieu Wiliiaius 6

The One-Scale Atlas 8

The Southern Skies 9

Seir-Chiirted Skies 10

Magic Squares 10

Note on Euclid {I. 32) 11

A Five-Fold Comet 12

P-IOR

Sir Henry Roscoe on Atoms IG

Shakespeare and Bacon. By Beu-

Tolio ]•»

Gossip It*

Myth, Ritual, and Religion la

Reviews 21

The Face of the Sky for November 22
Our Whist Column. By "Five of

Clubs" 23

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

phisto *' 23

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge " as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per anntun are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

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To Australia, New Zealand, &C. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United Etafts,
and Bgypt, the Subscription ia 7s. 6d., as heretofore.

January 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGK ♦

49

^ILLUSTRATED^MAGAZINE "^

:Lic!ENCE,lITEMTUl{E,& AS1=

LONDON: JANUARY 2, 1888.

THE STREAM OF LIFE.

(Concluded from iKuje 3.)

l»w;ZSjj^N the carboniferous strata, which in some places
tf/^ rSw attain a thickness of nearly four miles, we tind
V^si K$^ evidence of an amazing wealth of vegetation —
^1** iKia uniform in geneial character, for as yet the
earth seems to have had no seasons so far as heat
was concerned — but very varied in details.
The most characteristic peculiarity of animal
life was the prevalence of amphibia, represented chiefly by
immense creatures resembling the modern salamander, but
attaining a length of seven or eight feet. Enormous sharks
swept through the seas of the time, armed with teeth capa-
ble of crushing the strong incasing armour of the ganoid fishes
which proliabiy formed their prey. As the Permian era
came on, the Flora and Fauna changed by slow processes of
development, both still retaining, however (over the whole
earth, so far as can be judged), their tropical character.

We find so marked a contrast in passing from the Permian
system to the Triassic — that is, from the highest of the
primary to the lowest of the secondary stiata — that had not
experience taught us to recognise in such marked change
merely evidence that many leaves are missing from the geo-
logical record, we might be tempted to believe, willi the
geologists of former times, that the primary forms of life had
been for the most part replaced by new creatures. In our
time, however, all we infer from the great change in many
forms of animal and vegetable life is that immense periods
of time passed after the last of the Permian strata were
deposited before the tirst of the Triassic rocks began to be
formed. The records of these vast time intervals have been
destroyed by denudation.

Some, however, of the old genera of plant life and of
animal life still remained. Conifers, which had existed in
the previous era, were now- more numerous and in greater
variety. But Cycads were the predominating form of
vegetable life throughout the Mesozoic per-iod, which has
been called, on this aocount, the " Age of Cycads." Amphi-
bians now increased in numbers, while lizards made their
tirst appearance (so far, at least, as the geological record
attests). Deinosaurs, which may be regarded as a connecting
link between birds and reptiles, appeared and disappeared
during the Mesozoic era — becoming extinct, like other
transitional types, within a comparatively short time, though
the absolute duration of their existence on the earth may
probably be mea.sured by millions of years. The footprints
of some of these creatures, which walked on their hind less,
were mistaken by the earlier geologists for the traces of
gigantic birds ; but although birds, and gigantic ones, ap-
peared during the Mesozoic ages, the deinosaurs were not
flying creatures. When we consider the enormous size of
some of them, a^^ the hrontosiinr, whose feet left imprints a

square yard in area ; the stegosaur, whose bony back-plates
were 3 feet across; and the ailantosaur, the most massive
of all known creatures, probably of all creatures which have
ever existed (it seems to have been about 100 feet long and
30 feet high), we may regard the power of laying as not one
which deinosaurs needed or were likely to possess.

In this age, also, the great sea saurians throve, multiplied
and died out. The ichthj'osaur, with eyes a foot in diame-
ter; the long-necked plesiosaur, the pythonomorphic, or
serpentine, saurians, of which no fewer than forty varieties
have been recognised, some of them being more than 75 feet
in length, were among the denizens of the sea in Mesozoic
time.

This was the age also of those bat-winged reptiles, the
Pterosaurs, some of which were of enormous size. But
these again were probably transitional forms, and are now
extinct. The birds of the ISIesozoic ages, which show many
reptilian characteristics, represent more successful lines of
development ; and though none of the birds known to belong
to Mesozoic times remained in later ages, the birds even of
our own time afford in their structure abundant evidence of
their descent from those earlier birds, or from their con-
temporaries.

It was in the long-lasting Mesozoic or secondary ages,
further, that mammals, afterwards to obtain dominion over
the earth, first made their appearance, though tlie traces of
them are but few and far between. Teeth of a small mar.
supial animal akin to the banded ant-eater of New South
Wales are found as low as the Triassic strata (the lowest of
the secondary formations), while in the Jurassic, or next
higher system, other forms of insectivorous marsupials are
found, along with one which Owen regarded as an herbivor-
ous placental mammal and another which he regarded as
probably carnivorous.

(/Jeology has now long passed that stage of its progress
when the tertiary, or Cainozoic, periods were supposed
to be separated by a distinct line of demarcation from the
secondary, or Mesozoic. The cretaceous system, or chalk,
was found to be in many places succeeded by beds of pebljle,
sand and clay, of entirely different character from any of
the chalk formations. In these upper beds no fossils could
be found which had been recognised in the chalk. But re-
searches, at once wider and more detailed, showed that parts
of the leaves which seemed thus to be missing exist else-
where. The break in the continuity of deposits in some
places shows only that denudation had either completely re-
moved the missing strata before the higher beds began to be
deposited, or else in certain regions no strata were deposited.

Yet on the whole we find a marked change in the earth's
aspect in Cainozoic times, as well as a characteristic difference
in the manner in which the crust of the earth behaved.
During the Tertiary period the continents of the earth were
fashioned nearly into the forms they have in our own time.
Processes of contraction affecting a crust which, owing to
increased thickness and diminished plasticity, no longer
yielded easily to the pressures and strains acting upon it,
resulted in the formation of the great mountain ranges, by
the upheaval (through side pressures) of the thick and deep
strata formed during the primary and secondary periods upon
the original crust. Parts of what was sea-bed at the be-
ginning of Tertiary time are now found three miles above
the sea level ; and doubtless other portions were raised even
higher, but have been carried down fiom the positions so
reached, by the action of the denuding forces which have
carved the peaks and pinnacles of mountain ranges, until in
many parts the inner Archaean core has been exposed.

In the Tertiary strata we recognise first the signs of a
diversity of temperature beginning to exist in different parts
of the earth. Early in Tertiary time, indeed, even the

50

* KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

arctic regions had a mild climate, but towards the close of
the long-lasting periods of the Tertiary age snow and ice had
spread, not only over the whole of the arctic regions, but
even over parts of the European and American continents
■which at present are free from them. This, however, must
be regarded as indicating only a temporary extension of the
northern snows and ice. Even during eras belonging to
the close of Tertiary time the earth possessed on the whole
a warmer and more equable climate in high latitudes than
she has now.

The vegetation of the earth now began to resemble closely
the vegetation of the present day. Nearly all the genera of later
Tertiary vegetation still throve on the earth. Animal life began
also to resemble the animal life of to-day much more closely
than duiing preceding eras. Mammals not only made their
appearance on the earth, but, as usual with successful in-
coming types, they showed at the outset of their career a
richness and fulness of development such as they do not
present in these times. The pachyderms, still the largest of
the land mammals, were much larger in Tertiary times than
now. In Tertiary ages, also, gigantic cetacean sea mammals,
the ancestors of the whales, dolphins and kindred races of
our own times, gradually took the place of the monstrous .sea
saurians of preceding ages.

The division of Tertiary time into Eocene, Miocene, and
Pliocene periods indicates the recognition among geologists
of the growth and development of modern forms of animal
and vegetable life during the Cainozoic eras. For these
names imply simply '• Dawn of Recent," " Fewer Ilecent,"
and " More Recent," '■ forms of life " being undei-stood.
The lower Tertiary strata are called Eocene to show that
recent forms of life begin to be recognised in those strata; in
the Miocene strata recent forms of life are more numerous
than they had been but still not so numerous as the ancient
forms, while in Pliocene recent forms have not only in-
creased in number but they now exceed the ancient forms,
and in gradually increasing degree, till as we are passing
from the upper Tertiai-y to the lower Quaternary or recent
strata we have to change our descriptive term from Pliocene
or more recent (than ancient) to Pleistocene, or mostly
recent.

In considering the Flora of the Eocene period, we are
chiefly struck by the evidence it affords of the extension of
a climate still tropical over regions now temperate, and of a
climate still warm over regions now intensely cold. Plants
now only found in the hotter parts of Asia, Africa, America,
and Australia throve then in Canada, Scandinavia, and
Siberia. Ferns and evergreens were numerous, but many
deciduous trees — elms, hazels, willows, planes, chestnuts, &c.,
— had now made their appearance. The Fauna of this period
also indicates a generally tropical climate extending over the
temperate zones, and a temjjerate climate extending to far
within the arctic regions. Reptilian life was no longer so
preponderant as during Mesozoic time, the reptiles still
thriving in the Eocene period being chiefly turtles, tortoises,
and crocodiles, closely resembling those now existing. Re-
mains of birds are found more freely in Eocene strata than
in the lower formations, though avian fossils are naturally
not abundant in any strata, the power of flight saving birds
from most of those forms of death which favoured the pre-
servation of fossil remains. True mammals now made their
appeai'ance in great numbers. Small pony-like animals
appeared — the ancestors probably of the horse, ass, zebra,
and quagga, but differing from the modem equine races in
possessing most of the toe of each foot, whereas the Equus
of to-day possesses only the middle toe complete, the side
toes being represented only by rudimentary splints. Hogs
of various kinds, deer and antelopes, squirrels, lemurs and
bats had now appeared. Races also now seen for the first

time, but not destined to last to our own day, throve and
multiplied during the Eocene period — creatures (the tino-
ceras and deinoceras) like the rhinoceros in structure,
but having six horns instead of two, and like the elephant
in size, were now the most powerful denizens of the forest.

Throughout the closing part of the Eocene period, called
sometimes the " Uligocene " (or '"' Few-recent "), there was a
general though slow progress towards the condition found
during Miocene time, during which the Flora and Fauna
showed a marked advance towards the characteristic forms
of recent geological time. Still, however, even in the Mio-
cene agL, the forests which adorned temperate regions
resembled rather those found in India and Brazil than
the forests of middle Europe and other such regions now.
Beeches, laurels, oaks, and poplars, as well as magnolias,
myrtles, sumachs, mimosas, and acacias, were now abundant.
Through the forests ranged giraffes, deer, antelopes, three-
toed horses, wildcats, bears, sabre-toothed lions, monkeys,
and apes. The deinotherium and mastodon were doubtless,
however, the most powerful land animals ; the deinothei'ium,
as large as the elephant, with two immense tusks in the
lower jaw, curved somewhat like those of the walrus ; the
mastodon, a foi-m of elephant, but in some cases armed with
four tusks, two in the lower as well as two large tusks
in the upper jaw. The forms of insect life also were par-
ticularly rich, especially the wood beetles, which attained
often singularly large dimensions. Frogs, toads, lizards,
and snakes were also numerous in the Miocene period.
Large cetaceans traversed the Miocene seas (their ear-bones
are found in considerable numbers in the raised sea-beaches
belonging to this part of Tertiary time).

In Pliocene times, as the name implies, modern forms of
vegetable and animal life had become still more common.
Tropical types of vegetation were no longer found in the
higher temperate latitudes, and the forms gradually ap-
proximated more and more in character to those now
occupying the corresponding regions. The Fauna also pre-
sented similar characteristics. Tribes of animals roamed
over Europe in the earlier portions of the Pliocene period
which are now found only on the southern side of the
Mediterranean. In England, even in the latter part of
Pliocene time, the hyena, rhinoceros, elephant, and other
animals, now limited to tropical or sub-tropical regions,
must have been numerous to account for the frequency of
their remains.

No definite dividing line can be drawn between the
Tertiary and Quaternary periods. The change from Eocene
to JSliocene, or from Miocene to Pliocene, corresponded
closely in character with the change from Pliocene to
Pleistocene. Ever since the time when life, vegetable or
animal, had first appeared on the earth, multitudinous forms
cf life had come into existence, had risen into greater or less
prominence according to their surroundings, and had in
some cases died out, in others had developed succeeding
races more or less closely akin to them, and in yet others
had continued scarcely changed even throughout the millions
of years which separate the beginnings of the Pala'ozoic
pei'iods from our own time.

The steady advance of the stream of life, with its various
waves thus either dying out, or merging into other waves,
or progressing scarcely changed age after age, had gradually
led to the development of more and more of those forms
of vegetable and animal life which we regard as be-
longing specially to the present age of our earth's
history. For gradually the earth's surface had changed
from a condition utterly unlike what now exists to nearer
and nearer resemblance to its present aspect. At the be-
ginning the internal heat had extended its influence over
the whole surface of the earth, throughout the whole ocean.

Jan-uary 2, 1838]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

51

even tbrougliout the whole atmospliere ; and the stream of life
on the earth had corresponded in character to this uniformity
of thermal condition. But as during millions of ages the
internal heat gradually diminished, the earth began to
lecognise, as it were, more dearly age after age the influ-
ence of the central sun, one day to become supreme in
determining the conditions of life. Throughout the later
Palaeozoic, the earlier and later Me.sozoic, and even the
earlier Cainozoic periods, the sun's influence was small in
determining diflerences of condition between diflerent parts
of the earth. But from the middle of the Tertiary era on-
ward to the beginning of the era which we recognise as
i-ecent — though in reality it has already lasted some
l!00,000 or 300,000 years— the influence of the sun has in
this sense been paramount, that it has divided the earth into
climates, corresponding generally though not exactly with
zones limited by various latitudes ; that is, with zones within
which the sun's direct influence as mensured by his mid-
d.iy height in diflerent parts of tie year has such and such
definite range.

What we call the Quaternary period may be regarded as
beginning with the time when the sun's influence thus be-
came-predominant ; when the earth's suiface became divided
in respect to the forms of vegetable and animal li:e, as well
as in the astronomical sense, into the tropical and sub-tropical
zones, the temperate zones, and the arctic and antarctic
regions. The range of the various climates which we may
call ti'opical, temperate, and arctic, alteied measurably, even
markedly, from time to time. Sometimes the glacial regions
invaded regions which had been temperate in climate, nay,
had even presented semi-tropical forms of life ; at others
the ice ma.s.ses retreated even w ithin their present limits.

MOON LORE AND ECLIPSE
SUPERSTITIONS.

By " Stella Occidens."

the beginning,, according to the Elder Edda,
there were two worlds — Xiflheim, or the
nebulous world, and Muspelheim, or the
fire-world. Muspelheim was so hot that it
jurncd and blazed. The heavenly bodies were
made from its sparks, and these were ])laced
in the heavens by the gods, to give light to
the world.

The sun knew not bis proper siiberc,

The stars knew not tbeir proper place.

The moon knew not where her position was ;'

There was nowhere grass until Bor's sons

The expanse did raise, by whom the great Midgard was made.

From the south the sun shone on the walls ;

Then did the earth green herbs produce.

The moon went aheSd, the sun followed,

His right hand held the steeds of heaven.

Mundilfare was the father of the sun and moon, and thej'
were placed in the heavens. The sun travels at a great
rate, as if some one were pursuing her for her destruction.
It was supposed that a wolf, called Skol, pursued the sun,
and would one day overtake and devour her. In like
manner a wolf called Hate — Hrodvitneson — runs before
the sun, and pursues the moon, that will one day be caught
by him. These two wolves are the sons of a giantess, who
dwells in a wood called Jarnved, situated east of Midgard
(the earth, and the abode of a race of witches). The most
formidable of all these witches is one called Maanagarm
(moon-swallower). He is filled with the life-blood of men
wlio draw near to their end, and he will swallow up the

moon, and stain the heavens and the earth with their
blood : —

The moons devourer, in form most fiend- like,
And tilled with the life-blood of the dead acd the dyiag.
Reddens with ruddy gore the seats of the high gods.
Then shall the sunshine of summer be darkened.
And fickle the weather ! Conceive ye this or not ? »

A Mongolian myth asserts that the gods determined to
punish Arakho for his misdeeds; but he hid so well that no
one could find his hiding-place. They therefore asked the
sun, who gave an unsatisfactory answer; but when they
asked the moon, she told where he was. So Arakho was
dragged forth and chastised. In revenge he pursues the
sun and moon, and, whenever he comes near enough, an
eclipse occurs. To help the sun and moon in their sad
plight a tremendous noise is made, till Arakho is scared
away.

The Aleutians and the Icelanders apparently have the
idea that the moon should be treated with great respect,
otherwise she would punish them by throwiug down stones.
A story is told about an Icelander who stole a piece of cheese.
Whilst he was eating it, he happened to notice the moon
shining brightly overhead. He stuck a piece on the end of
his knife and otTered it to the moon. Another time a sheep-
stealer, who was feasting on a leg of mutton he had stolen,
observed the moon shining bright and clear. Ho also in-
vited the moon to take part in the feast in the following
words : —

O moon, wilt thou

Od thy mouth now
This dainty bit of mutton eat ?

A voice from the heavens replied : —

Wouldst thou, thief, like
Thy cheek to strike
This fair key, scorching red with beat ?

A red-hot key fell from the sk}^ burning on the thief's
cheek a mark which remained for ever afterwards. This
was supposed to have originated the custom of branding
thieves, though why a key should have been chosen in this
case it is difficult to imagiue.t In Scotland, Devonshire,
and Cornwall, pointing at the moon is an insult to \>e care-
fully avoided, or the most dire results may follow.

At Whitby when the moon is surrounded by a halo of
watery clouds, the seamen say that there will be a change
of weather, for the moon-dogs are about. An amusing
story is told about a fisherman in Torquay. A gale having
taken place during the night, he said he had foreseen it, as
he had noticed a star ahead of the moon towing her, and
another astern chasing her — " I know'd 'twas coming safe
enough."

In the Yedic hymns Rakha, the full moon, is supposed to
make beautiful garments for night and morning, with a
needle which can never be broken. She weaves together
the roseate hues of morning, and the soft mellow tints of
evening. The Danes have elves called " Moon Folk." The
man of this race is like an old man with a low- crowned hat
upon his head ; the woman is very beautiful in front but
behind she is hollow, like a dough-trough, and she has a
sort of harp on which she plays and lures young men with
it, and then kills them. The man is also an evil being, for
if any one comes near him he opens his mouth and breathes
upon the rash moital, and his breath causes sickness. It
is easy to see what this tradition means ; it is the damp
marsh wind laden with foul and dangerous odours ; and
the woman's harp is the wind playing across the marsh-

* "Xorse Mythology," Anderson, pp. 17C-1T9.
■f Harley, " Moon Lore," p. 150.

52

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

[Jakuaey 2, 1888.

rushes at nightfall.* In the " Midsummer Night's Dream "
the fairy queen says to the king : —

These are the forgeries ot jealousj' ;

And never, since the middie summer's spring,

Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,

By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,

Or in the beached margent of the sea,

To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind ;

But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.

No night is now with hymn or carol blest :

Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,

Pale in her anger, washes all the air.

That rheumatic diseases do abound ;

And this same progeny ot evil come.s

From our debate, from our dissension ;

We are their parents and oiiginal.

Among the Mexicans an eclipse of the moon is supposed
to be the moon devoured by a dragon. The Hindoos have
the same belief, and both nations continued to use the
expression long after they had discovered the true cause
of an eclipse. t Captain Beechman relates that one evening
when he was at supper with .some friends in the island of
Borneo, thev heard a great noise outside. " The natives
were yellinar, and clattering brass pans and gongs, and firing
off guns. When we inquired the reason of their excitement,
one of the natives pointed up to the heavens, and said,
' Look there; see, the devil is eating up the moon 1 ' "

Among the Chinese the belief exists that the moon during
an eclipse is being devoured by a hungry monster. In
order to frighten him away, and to save the moon from
total destruction, certain ceremonies are performed by the
Chinese mandarins, which form, in fact, part of their official
business. An instrument made of bamboo splints is beaten,
which makes a great noise, supjMsed to penetrate the very
temple of Heaven itself. Tapers are lighted at the begin-
ning of an eclipse, incense is burned, the mandarins prostrate
themselves on the ground, and the priests recite formulas,
all this Listing until the eclipse has passed off. We are
naively told that they are invariably successful in driving
away the hungry monster.J

At one time in Canton the sky happened to be cloudy
during an eclipse, and we are told that the courtiers con-
gratulated the emperor that lie had been spared the pain
of seeing the sun devourerl.

Among some of the American Indian tribes a belief exists
that the moon is hunted by huge dogs, catching and tearing
her till her soft light is reddened and put out by the blood
flowing from her wounds.

" At a lunar eclipse the Orinoco Indians would work hard,
as they imagined the moon was veiling herself in anger at
their habitual lazine.ss." §

It was customary among the Romans to take their
brazen pots and jsans and beat them together, making a
most unearthly noise, duriug an eclipse. They also lit
torches and firebrands, and carried them abotit with them,
hoping by these means to release the moon. The Mexicans
would make a great noise during the eclipse with musical
instruments, and would make their dogs howl, hoping the
moon would have pity on them because of their cries. The
Creeks did likewise, and they explained this strange custom
by saying that the big dog was swallowing the sun, and
they could prevent him from doing so by whipping the little
one.?. II

The people of Tahiti were tilled with terror during an

* "Fairy Tales: their Origin and Meaning." By John Thackray
Eunce, p. 131.

I Grimm, " Teutonic Mythology," p. 707.

J M.-ix MiiUer, " Chips from a German Workshop," vol. ii. p. 2G9.
§ Harley, "Moon Lore," p. 161.

II Ibid. p. 168.

eclipse, and would go to the temple and pray for the
moon's release. They would offer presents to the god whom
they supposed to be swallowing the moon.*

'The Sinalos fancied that a battle was taking place in the
moon, of great consequence to those on earth. The people
would encourage the moon by shouting and yelling, and
would shoot flights of arrows at her, so as to distract the
enemy.t

In eclipses of the moon the Greenlanders carry boxes and
kettles to the roofs of their houses, and beat on them as
hard as they can. The Lithuanians think a demon is
attacking the chariot of the sun ; darkness comes, and
though the sun will be saved many times, yet it must be
destroyed at the end of the world. Among the Moors the
people ru'i about as if mad during an eclipse, firing their
rifles, so as to frighten the monster, who, they suppose,
wishes to devour the orb of day. The women bang copper
vessels together, making a noise to be heard at a very great
distance.t

TRICKS OF MEMORY.

EMOPiY, which differs so gi-eatly among in-
dividual men, varies also in such marked
degree in the same person at different times
that we are all intei'ested in the inquiry how
far memory is a measure of mental strength.
In childhood and boyhood we find memory
occupying .so high a position among mental
qualities, that the idea grows up with most
of us that he who has the best memory has also most
talent, if even a remarkable memory be not regarded as of
itself proving absolute genius. At least this is so inmost
of our schools, where the boy who remembers his lessons
best takes highest position, not he who best understands
them.

I learned very early that memory and mental power,
though they may be associated together, are yet very
different things. I valued my memory, which had often
stood me in good stead in examinations, the only tests with
which boyhood is apt to be acquainted ; but I valued more
the power of understanding and enjoying the reasoning of
dear old Euclid, the one geometrician with whom, in those
days, English school lads could become acquainted. Soon
after I had left school — and when I was a freshman at
college — I made the acquaintance of a young man of about
my own age who possessed a most marvellous memory,
while he also showed most marvellous mental density. He
had occasion to pass examinations in Euclid, and one would
have said that he would have been singularly successful in
these examinations, for though he had only read through
our college Euclid once, he could recite or write out the
whole of it. Or, if preferred, he could begin at any point
where one might start him and reproduce any quantity
verbatim et literatim — atq^ie punctuatim, so far as that was
concerned. But not only was he utterly unable to under-
stand a word of it all — he had not even brains enough to
keep his real ignorance of Euclid to himself. He was
always forgetting the good old rule ne quid nimis ; and as
he did not know where to stop in his marvellous recita-
tions, the examiners naturally came to the conclusion, per-
fectly justified by the facts, that though be knew his Euclid
by heart he knew nothing about geometry. His knowledge
was akin to that of one who should repeat by rote a
number of Greek or Hebrew words the meaning of which
was unknown to him ; or like that of a tutor I once had,

* Harley, "Moon Lore," p. 173.

t Grim'in's " Teutonic Mythology," p.

t Ibid. p. 173.
707.

J-^N-i-AEY 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

53

■who when hearing me deal with a problem in Euclid would
send me back to relearn my lesson if I called a triangle
A C B instead of A B C as the book showed it.

^ye need not then either despair of our mental powers
when we hear of marvellous feats of memory, or think that
our minds are failing because with advancing years our
memory may occasionally play us false. Memory, as Dr.
Diordat, of Montpelier, long since pointed out, and as hun-
dreds of facts show, is rather the offspring of the vital force
than of the intellectual principle ; and it is not surprising
if in old age, when the vital force diminishes, memory should
sometimes fail, even while the intellectual power preserves
its full integrity. As for marvellous feats of memory,
though they certainly indicate possibilities of future develop-
ments which would greatly increase man's grasp over
mental problems, they need no more dL^courage those who
feel incapable of any achievements in this line than the
mental powers of Blind Tom should cause those who see his
performances to despair because they can never hope to do
the like.

The examples themselves which most strikingly display
the capacity of special brains for remembering words and
syllables show also how little this capacity has to do with
intellectual power— some of them indeed seem almost to
suggest that a very keen memory may be a mark of disease.
That excessive keenness of memory may result from a
diseased cerebral action is indeed certain ; but fortunately
we are not obliged to regard this fact as giving any unplea"-
sant significance to exceptionally good powers of remem-
brance. If foolish, or even idiotic persons, or persons in the
delirium of fever, have manifested remarkable memories,
men like :Macaulay, Prescott, Euler, and others have had
marvellous memoiies without being feeble-minded and
without the aid of disease.

Pepys tells us of an Indian who could repeat a long
passage in Greek or Hebrew after it had been recited to
him only once, though he was ignorant of either language.
This man would doubtless have been able to repeat (so far
as his vocal organs would permit him to imitate the sounds)
the song of a nightingale or a lark, through all its ever-
varying passages, during ten or twenty minutes, and with
as much understanding of its significance as of the meaning
of the Greek and Latin words he recited so glilily. We cei°
tainly need not envy that particular " poor Indian " his
"untutored mind," though as certainly the power he
possessed would be of immense value to a philosopher.

If any one is disposed to believe that perhaps after all
that Indian may have been a man of powerful understand-
ing, a case of even more wonderful recollection of mere
sounds will at least dispose of the idea that the man's pecu-
liarly retentive memory proved mental power. Coleridge
relates, in his '' Literaria Biogniphia," that in a Roman
Catholic town in Germany a young woman who could
neither read nor write was seized with a fever, during which,
according to the 'priests, she was posses^sed by a polyglot
devil. For she talked Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, besides
uttering sounds which, though not understood by her
hearers, had doubtless meaning, but belonged to languages
unknown to them. " Whole sheets of her ravings were
written out," says Coleridge, " and were found to con.sist of
sentences intelligible in themselves, but having slight con-
nection with each other." It appeared rather" inconsistent
with the theory of demoniac possession that .some of these
sentences were Biblical ; but as it is proverbial that the
devil can quote Scripture for his purpose, this evidence
might not have availed to save the girl from such rough
treatment for her -'possession" as would probably have
served very ill for her fever. Fortunatelj", a physician, who,
being sceptically inclined, was disposed to question the

theory of a polyglot spirit, " determined to trace back the
girl's history. After much trouble he discovered that at
the age of nine she had been charitably taken bv an old
Protestant pastor, a great Hebrew scholar, in whose house
she lived till his death. On further inquiry it appeared to
be the old man's custom for years to walk up and down a
passage of his house into which the kitchen opened, and
to read to himself in a loud voice out of his books. The
books were ransacked, and among them were found several
of the Greek and Latin fathers, together with a collection of
Rabbinical writings. In these works so many of the pa.s-
sages taken down at the young woman's bedside were
identified, that there could be no reasonable doubt as to their
source."

If the girl had remembeied these passages in a normal
way, and had merely uttered them during her sickness, the
story would have been remarkable enough, since she was
altogether uneducated. But, as a matter of fact, she re-
membered none of thorn in health, either before or after her
sickness. It was doubtless the activity of the circulation
during the access of fever which brought out as it were the
impressions of sounds really recorded in the brain, but so
lightly that except during such situation she remained
unconscious even of their existence.

A case cited by Dr. Abercrombie confirms the suggestive
theory that the stimulus which fever gives to the circulation
(sign of disease though it is) may bring dormant mental im-
pressions into temporary activity. A boy at the age of
four had undergone the operation of the trepan, being at
the time in a stupor from a severe fracture of the skull.
After his recovery he retained no recollection eil;her of the
accident or of the operation. But at the age of fifteen,
during an attack of fever, he gave his mother an account of
the operation, describing the persons who were present, and
even remembering details of their dress and other minule
particulars.

Even an accident may stimulate the memory in such
sort as to recall long-forgotten neutral impressions, and so
to convey that the mind is regularly retentive. Dr. Aber-
crombie relates a case of this kind which suggests many
perplexing problems in regard to memory. A ruan who had
been completely stunned by a blow on the head remained
still partially out of bis mind when he had recovered from
the first effects of the blow. In his unconscious ^tate he
spoke a language which nobody in the London hospital to
which he bad been removed could understand, but which
was presently found to be Welsh. It was subsequently dis-
covered that, though Welsh liy birth, he had been thirty
years away from Wales when the accident occui'red, and had
quite forgotten his native tongue. On his restoration to full
consciousness he lost his Welsh again completely, but
recovered his English.

The effects of an accident — in destroying temporarily, or,
.so far as it appears, wholly — all neutral impressions received
within certain intervals, are sometimes curious enough.
Thus Dr. Carpenter mentions the case of a friend of his— a
clergj'man — who was pitched out of a phaeton, and received
a severe concussion of the brain. On recovering he found
that he had forgotten all that had happened, not only when
the accident actually took place, but during some previous
time. The last thing he remembered was that he had met
an acquaintance on the road just about two miles from the
accident.

An access of fever may produce, as we have seen, a local
disturbance of brain functions. It is further worthy of
notice also that the recollection a man has of events preced-
ing intoxication is apt to be similarly limited in a definite
but not readily explicable manner.

I remember a Cambridge man who, though not given to

54

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

[January 2, 1888.

di-inking, and now " a sober man among Lis sons," was more
than once overtaken by liquor during the time when he bad
yet to learn his brain's exceptionally limited power of resisting
the action of intoxicants. This man would not only be unable
to recall what had happened during the time when he was
intoxicated, but a number of preceding events which had
taken place while be was still perfectly sober. His friends
would tell him of things which had happened a full hour
before he was " overtaken" (as the quaint expression has it),
which had altogether passed from his remembrance. He
used to say that his recollection was clear up to a certain
point, bej-ond which everything seemed " veiled."

But it was clearly shown by an experiment which he
arranged for his own satisfaction — being one of the inquisi-
tive sort — that the veiling was, as it were, extended back-
wards from the time of actual intoxication, for whereas his
forgetfulness extended over the whole interval from the fir.>t
glass of wine (which he always remembered drinking) to the
sixth or seventh at which intoxication began, he couLl
remember with accustomary readiness all that happened at
a sitting where he had drunk four or five glasses of the same
wine. Of course he had to trust to his friends to note for
him at what stage intoxication began ; in fact, until he had
learned this from others he could know little about it,
because of the peculiar veiling of past events which took
place after he had passed that stage. But his friends not
being of the sort who rejoice to see a man under the
influence of liquor, he had confidence in them; and beiides,
he could prove so much as tliis for himself, that whereas he
could never remember more than the first glass if he drank
tco much, he could drink four or five glasses safely, remem-
bering all that happened. What he could not learn for
himself was, how many more glasses he could take without
intoxication. At last he could only obtain this knowledge
in such sort that he was conscious of it while intoxicated ;
for his friends found that after the sixth or seventh glass,
which produced intoxication, he could always remember
every detail of what had happened during previous acces-
sions of the temporary insanity we call drunkenness.

The way in which this man's mind came out from the
" veiling" was as strange and as suggestive as the way in
which it was thrown under that veiling. I remember being
present at the moment when consciousness or sanity (whicdi-
ever we choose to call it) came back to him. He was a
mathematician, and a man had put in his hand to test his
condition a mathematical treatise on mechanics, over which
my friend had maundered, as drunken men will. Suddenly
his mind seemed to straighten up, and, in response to a
remark that he was " screwed," he turned to the pages in
the book dealing with the screw, and said quaintly, " See
liere, A. You 're a classical man, and know nothing about
mathematics ; but these angles, Alpha and Beta " (showing a
diagram^ " represent the pitch of these screws. Now you
needn't pitch into me about being screwed, for if I 'm
screwed at an angle Alpha, you're screwed at an angle
Beta." (A. really was at the time the worse for liquor, l)ut
the other who had been so a moment before, was, from the
moment lie had opened t!ie bock, perfectly clear-minded, and
a few minutes later was at his mathematical studies.)

Mr. NOKDEXSKIOLD some time ago received an account from
Don Carlos Stolp, of San Fernando, Chili, of his observations of the
"red sunsets" of 1883-1884, from a point on the ,\ndes about
15,000 feet above the sea, and afterward Senor Stolp sent some
specimens of an atmospheric dust which he had observed at the
same time. Analysis of this dust .showed that it had no relation
to volcanic dust, but that it was of the liind regarded as cosmic
dust — containing the iron, nickel, phosphoric acid, and magnesia
constituents characteristic of tlie cosmic deposits. There is,
however, no evidence that this dust was connected with the red
IJglit.

EDISON'S PHONOGRAPH.

y answer to questions about his phonograph,
Mr. Edison said recently : —

" Perhaps I am wrong in telling you any-
thing about my phonograph, becattse what I
claim for it is so extraordinary that I get only
ridicule in return. I am so confident that
when the apparatus appears it will dispel all
doubts as to its practicability and working value, that I can
afford for the present to ignore all kinds of criticism, and
keep at my work regardless of the storm which I have been
raising by telling a few people that there was such a thing
as a perfected phonograph in existence. I am sure that
while scientific men may doubt that I have succeeded as
well as I say I have, they will admit that there is nothing at
all impossible in what I claim, and that the germ of the
perfected phonograph, shoidd such a thing appear, is very
clear in my old toy of ten years ago, which was exhibited all
over the country, and was then acknowledged to be one of
the wonders of the century. Just consider for a second
what my old phonograph is, and think how little needed to
be done to bring it to a working instrument. With my
roughly-constructed instrument of 1877 I reproduced all
sorts of sounds, getting back from the phonograph some-
thing like the original sound. Of course you had to yell
into the thing ; and the reproduction of conversation was
often something of a caricature of the original. Neverthe-
less, to obtain a result that could be understood was doing
wonders ; and most people who remember my exhibitions
will admit that, while I did not produce a commercial
machine, I made a very interesting and creditable attempt,
and my whistling and singing phonograph was a wonder.

"There were all sorts of objections in detail to my first
instrument. It weighed about one hundred pounds ; it
cost a mint of money to make ; no one but an expert could
get anything intelligible back from it ; the record made by
the little steel point upon a sheet of tin-foil lasted onlj' a few
times after it had been put through the phonograph. I
myself doubted whether I should ever see a perfect phono-
graph, ready to lecord any kind of ordinary speecii and
to give it out again intelligibh'. But I was perfectly sure
that if we did not accomplish this, the next generation
would. And I dropped the phonograph and went to work
upon the electric light, certain that I had sown seed which
would come to something. For ten years the phonograph
has come up in my brain automatically and almost periodi-
cally. I would turn it over and over mentally when I had
nothing else to think about. W^hen I couldn't sleep at
night, when travelling, when worried about business affairs,
I would think the phonograph over and jot down any new
ideas for future experiments. Eight months ago I began
laboratory work upon it again, and a month ago I stopped
because I could see no further improvement to be made. It
is a finished machine — simple, cheap, effective, not liable to
get out of order, and it does everything that I ever hoped
the perfected phonograph might do.

" My phonograph will occupy about as much space on the
merchant's desk, or at the side of the desk, as a typewriter
does. It will work automatically by a small electric motor,
whicli runs at a perfectly regular rate of speed, is noiseless,
and starts or sto[)S at the touch of a spring. Suppose the
merchant wishes to write a letter, he pulls the mouthpiece
of the phonograph to him, starts the motor with a touch,
and says what he has to say in an ordinary tone of voice.
When he has done he pulls out a little sheet and rolls it up
for the mail. The recipient places this sheet in a similar
phonograph, touches the motor spring, and the instrument
will at once read out the letter in a tone more distinct

January 2, 188S.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

55

clearer, more characteristic of the voice of the writer than
any telephone you or I ever heard. The phonograph voice
is not a loud voice, perhaps not more than twice as loud as
the sound you get from a good telephone, and an earphone
will be necessary. This, however, may not be an objection,
inasmuch as people do not always want to have their letters
heard all over the otEce. In aiming for loudness in the
phonograph, I went astray in my first experiment ; I should
have tried for clearness. The present apparatus will satisfy
any one who is half satisfied with the telephone. Of course,
there are no disturbances in the phonographic message such
as those made by induction along a telephone wire, and, as
the apparatus will repeat the letter over and over again, it
is possible to understand every .syllable, even in a noisy
oiEce. I was so overcome with the .'uccess of my first
instrument, finished about six weeks ago, that I doubted
whether I could make another equallv good, and I went to
work at once to do so. My second instrument works as
well as the first, and I have forty woikmen employed in
making the tools for the manufacture of the first lot of 500
phonographs. They will cost GO dols. apiece.

" Now for some speculation as to what people mav do
with the phonograph. I am confident that it will be found
in the ofiice of every busy man. I am confident that the
editor and the reporter of the future will never think of
losing time by writing with a pen or dictating to a
stenographer when the printer can set type better from the
dictation of the phonograph than he can from copv. I have
already perfected an apparatus whicli allows the phono-
graphic message to be given out in pieces of ten words
eacli. The printer touches a pedal with his foot and the
phonogi'aph says ten words. If he sets the ten correctly,
he touches the pedal again and gets ten words more. If he
is in doubt he tries another pedal, which makes the phono-
graph repeat. In the future some method may be found of
combining the phonograph and the telephone — that is to
say, the phonograph may be made so delicate as to take
down the sound from a telephone and give it out again
when wanted. As yet I have not attempted any such
thing. The vibrations of the telephone diaphragm are too
delicate for use in the phonogiaph. In business I think
that the phonograph will be used everywhere. Outside of
business it is hard to say exactly to what uses it may be
put. As it will record and repeat any kind of musical
sound, and as the process of duplicating the phonogram, as
I call my sheet of metal which has passed through the
phonograph and become impressed with certain sounds, is
very cheap, the phonogram copy of a lecture, a book, a play
or an opera need cost but a tritle.

" For music, I know that you will simply laugh when I
tell you wliat I have done with the two instruments that
I have finished. I have got the playing of an orchestra so
perfectly that each instrument can be heard distinct from
the rest ; you can even tell the diflerence between two pianos
of different makes ; you can tell the voice of one singer from
another ; you can get a reproduction of an operatic scene
in which the orchestra, the choruses, and the .soloi-sts will
be as distinct and as satisfactory as opera in this sort of
miniature can ever be made. Opera by telephone has been
done in Paris and London more or less .successfully, but the
phonograph will eclip.se the telephone for this purpose
bej'ond all comparison, and phonographic opera will cost
nothing, because the phonogram can be passed through the
phonograph, if necessary, a thousand times in succession,
and once the machine is bought there is no other cost beyond
tbe trifle for phonograms. For books, the phonogram will
come in the shape of a long roll w-ound upon a roller. To
make the first phonographic copy of a book, some good
reader must of course read it out to the instrument ; once

that is done, duplication to any number of thousand or
million copies is a simple mechanical work, easy and cheap.
Now, just think a moment what that means.

" Suppose you are sick, or blind, or poor, or cannot sleep.
You have a phonograph, and the whole world of literature
and music is open to you. The perfected phonograph is
going to do more for the poor man than the printing-press.
No matter where he is. the poor man can hear all the great
lectures of the world, can have all the great books read to
him by trained readers, can hear as much of a play or an
opera as if he was in the next room to the theatre, and all
this at a cost scarcely worth mentioning. I remember that
when the telephone was first announced it was said that
now people in the wilds of Africa or America might assist
nightly at the performances of the Paris Opera House ; the
wires from that favoured spot might run to all parts of the
world. Well, we have not yet got to that, although it is a
scientific possibility for the future to perfect in detail. But
the phonograph will make such a thing perfectly easy. The
phonographic record of a performance of the Paris Opera
House can be duplicated by the thousand and mailed to all
parts of the world. I don't know but that the newspaper
of the future will be in the shape of a phonogram, and the
critic will give his readers specimens of the performance
and let them hear just how the future Patti did her work,
well or otherwise. This sounds like the wildest absurdity,
and yet, when you come to think of it, why not 1 Have I
told you enough to make you believe that I am joking?
Well, I am nothing of a joker, and this is all the most sober
kind of statement. Within two months from now the first
phonographs will be in the market."

COLLISIONS AT SEA.

By W. B. RoBiNsox, Chief Constructor, E.N. (Retired).

HE interest and importance of the following
communication will be recognised by all
readers. " Gossip " is omitted this month
to make room for this letter, which reached
me at my Florida home rather late. — E. P.

"Eeferring to Mr. Gilbert R. Faith's
paper on ' Collisions at Sea ' in your
November number of Knowledge, let me say that the
article in question has been written under an entire mistake
regarding what happens when the rudder of a ship is put
over. The effect of putting the helm over when the ship is
under way is to tend to make her turn, as she proceeds,
nearly around her centre of gravity, and to finally revolve in
almost a circle, her speed being lessened till it reaches, with
the same horse-power, nearly a fixed quantity. The trials
of all the ships of the Eoyal Navy prove this to be the ca.se ;
hence Mr. Faith's supposition that a ship, so to say, pivots
on her bow, is an error. I semi herewith a photograph of
the port bow of the Konig Wilhdin, which collided with
and sunk the Grosser KurfUrst, from which picture it will
be seen that the former ship must have struck the latter at
an oblique angle with her starboard bow. The photo was
taken when the ship was in dock at Portsmouth before the
injured bow was touched for fitting a temporary one designed
by me. The supposition that ships when turned by their
helms pivot on their bows being a mistake, all Mr. Faith's
deductions therefrom become erroneous. — W. B. Eobinson,
Chief Constructor, E.N. (Eetired)."

[The subject with which Mr. Faith and Mr. Eobinson
have dealt is so important that it deserves to be very
thoroughlv ventilated. Mr. EobiuEon's statements com-

56

^ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

maud acceptance, being based on experiments of a decisive
character. Tliey also correspond with theoretical con-
siderations, and I expected, indeed, when I inserted Mr.
Faith's interesting and suggestive paper, to find his state-
ments corrected to some such degree. For it was manifest
to me, viewing the matter merely as a problem in hydro-
dynamics, that putting a ship's rudder over to either side
must tend to cause (apart from loss of way) rotation around
a vertical axis passing nearly through the centre of gravity.
But I cannot agree with Mr. Robinson that Mr. Faith's
deductions become erroneous. On the contrary, Mr.
Robinson has proved for us that Mr. Faith's main deduc-
tion is sound. If two ships are proceeding on such a course
as would bring one slantingly into the side of the other, and
they are already close, following the sailing instructions will
only make the collision more destructive, unless when the
rudder is put over by the latter she pivots round her stern — •
which does not happen. Running directly counter to the
printed instructions, would, on the contrary, give her a good
chance of escape. — Ed.]

MATERIAL OF THE UNIVERSE.

HAVE just completed a chapter of a book on
astronomy, in which I have had to consider
the measuring and weighing of the solar
.system, and I must confess that although I
have long been acquainted with the v.arious
facts in detail which I have found occasion to
discuss in the chapter, I have risen from the
study of those facts as thus collected with such feelings of
awe at the marvels of our universe, .and wonder at man's
resolution in mastering tlie secrets of Nature as I have
never before experienced — at least in like degree.

I propose now to run through some of the results belong-
ing to tliis chapter in the history of astronomy, and then to
.show .something of their bearing on our estimate of the
universe, regarded alike with reference to its extension in
space and to its duration in time.

Our earth's weight, not estimated by the comparatively
rough methods of compaiison in which a mountain serves
as the counter weight, or the approach towards the e.arth's
centre permitted in a mine is trusted in to indicate the
earth's density, but definitely weighed against known oiasses
of matter, amounts to about .590,0.54,000,000,000,000,000
tons — a mass easily expres.sed in numbers, l)ut utterly incon-
ceivable by the human mind. The moon, at a distance of
238,830 miles, has a mass equal to about one eighty-first
part of the earth's ; but even her smaller mass is as hopelessly
beyond our powers of conception as that of the great globe
on which we live. I am not sure but that, looking on the
moon as she rides high above tlie horizon and noting how
small she looks, queen though she be of the orbs of night,
there is not somet hing more i mpressi ve in the thought that that
calmly beautiful globs contains 7,300,000,000,000,000,000
tons of such matter as makes the mass of our earth, than
even in the consideration that our earth weighs nearly
eighty-one times as much. The earth had always seemed
the very emblem of stability and massive might, insomuch
that though man in his days of ignorance imagined compara-
tively narrow limits to his terrestrial domain, there were
hardly any limits to the mass or quantity of matter he
might attribute to her. But the full size of the moon is
visible to every human eye ; and the contrast between the
apparent and the real is much greater when, for example,
we consider that that silvery surface at which we look
yonder is 2,160 miles in diameter and contains 7,300,000

square miles of just such rock surface as we have on our
earth, than when, looking out upon our earth as far as the
eye can reach, we learn that the real extent of the earth is
many thousandfold greater than the area thus .^.urveyed.
And if this is so in striking degree in regard to the moon's
apparent size, it is still so in more impressive manner when
we consider her mass.

Passing beyond the moon to the region of space outside,
we may turn at once to the sun. Within his fiery globe
lies very nearly the whole mass of the solar system. He
looks no larger than the moon, but he is 60,000,000 of times
larger, and more than 26,750,000 of times as massive. His
mass surpasses our earth's 330,500 times, a disproportion
of wdiose full meaning we can only form a fair idea by con-
sidering separately first the inconceivably large mass of the
earth, and then the enormous number represented by the
figures 330,500. On this last point I may remark that few
(so far as my observation has gone) form definite concep-
tions of the meaning of large numbers, even when such
meaning is well within their power of appreciation.

To most men 300,000 is a number whicli, even when it
represents money, is not definitely difl'erentiated in the mind
from such numbers as 200,000 or 400,000, or even from
such numbers as 30,000 or 3,000,000. Yet there are simple
ways of obtaining a clear idea of what it represents. Draw
a straight line 10 inches long, and, completing a square on
it, divide up this square into 100 small squares by lines
1 inch apart drawn parallel to the sides. Take a corner
square, and, dividing its .sides into tenths of an inch, divide
it like the large one into 100 small .squares. Then the
meaning of the number 10,000 is very clearly shown so soon
as we notice that our 10-inch square contains 10,000 such
.squares as make up the 1-inch corner square. The eye sees
in this case the degree in which 10,000 surpasses 1 ; and we
all know the truth of old Horace's saying, Segnius irritant
animos demissa per aures, quam qiur sunt oculis suhjecta
fidelihus. It is now ea.sy, without further drawing, to imagine
ten such squai'cs as our large one, and thus to recognise the
significance of the number 100,000. Thirty such squares
would picture the meaning of 300,000, the small tenth-of-
an-inch square in the corner being the unit. And thus we
can readily form a good mental conception of the degree in
which the sun's mighty mass surpasses the earth's — though
we still remain, and must for ever remain, unable to appre-
ciate the stupendous significance of the six hundred millions
of millions of millions* or so of tons contained within the
bulk of our terrestrial home.

* According to our English system we call this six hundred
trillions. In America the expression would be quintillions. I
object altogether to use an expression which has no true significance.
It includes the number .5 (quint) ; but no 5 is logically includible in
it. A quintillion, according to the English system of numeration,
signifies a million raised to the fifth power; according to the
American (want of) sjstem, it signifies a million multiplied by a
thousand raised to the fourth power. One c.in get a 5 in, indeed,
thus : A quintillion is a thousand multiplied by a thousand raised to
the fifth power; but that is an obviously unsymmetrioal way of
representing a thousand raised to the sixth power. If the American
system were sound logically and mathematiciilly, it would not be
so convenient as the English system, for when we get into such
numbers .as trillions, qu.adrillions, and so forth, which only happens
when we are comparing numbers all of whicli are very large, it is
desirable not to contuse comjiarison by having too many different
names, or (which is the same thing) by separating our classes of
numbers by divisions too closely set. Lastly, in giving names to
large numbers the English .system is superior to the American,
though there is no difference in the numbers of words employed.
The first example, taken at random, will serve to show this to the
logical arithmetician. Letthe number be 321, 563,482,793,81 2,4,')6,259:
for this the American name would be three hundred and twenty-
four quintillions, five hundred and sixty-five quadrillions, four
hundred and eighty- two trillions, seven hundred and ninety-three

January 2, 1888.1

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

One of the most impressive thoughts respecting the sun's
mass is the might which it represents — might ahsolutely
essential to his rule over the solar system. To give b^- a
simple example an idea of the sun's tremendous power,
imagine an immensely powerful magnet acting at a distance
of one mile on a particle of uon. and trj' to conceive the
slow motion by which at first that particle would respond
to the magnetic attraction. Now suppose this magnet !
replaced by a body having the sun's attractive might, but
all collected in a one-inch globe ; and suppose, further, that
this concentrated sun acts on a body from the distance of a
mile all the time (a whole second is all the time I ask for),
retreating from the body as, under its attractive influence,
the body moves towards it, and so always maintaining that
distance of one mile unchanged. Then, in that second, the
attraction on the body would be so great as to communicate
a velocity of 31,000 millions of miles per second. Or, in a
period of time so inconceivably short as one millionth part
of a second, our sun's mass, concenti-ated into a one-inch
globe, would at a mile distance (kept unchanged) communi-
cate the tremendous velocity of 31,600 miles per second.

Our sun surpasses in mass all the members of his family
together more than 74.5 times, so that there is no question
of his absolute supremacy over that family. Yet 8ii- John
Herschel fell into a mistake when he asserted that, if all
the planets were in a row on the same side of the sun, each
at its proper mean distance from the sun, the centre of
gravity of the whole system would lie far within the globe
of the sun. The centre of gravity would be 937,000 miles
from the sun's centre. This does not prevent the sun from
exerting supreme sway over the planets, however. Indeed,
the fixed centre round which the sun and all the planets
travel — this centre being the centre of gravity of the solar j
system at the moment — is nearly always within a much
smaller distance from the sun's centre than I have just
named, since it vei-y seldom happens that even three of the
chief planets of the system conjoin theii- influence on the
same side of the sun. The sun's motion around the common
centre may be regarded as made up of motions in a nearly
circular ellipse at a mean distance of 460,000 miles due to
Jupiter's attraction, in another at a mean distance of
253,000 due to Saturn's attraction, and in two others at
mean distances of 79,000 and 145,000 miles respectively, due
to the attractions of Uranus and Neptune, all other attrac-
tions being relatively inappreciable.

And jast here I cannot but touch, in the way of correc-

biUions, eight hundred and twelve millions, foar hundred and fifty-
six thousand, two hundred and fifty-nine ; the English name for
the same number is three hundred and twenty-four trillions, five
hundred and sixty-five thousand four hundred and eighty-two
billions, seven hundred and ninety-three thousand eight hundred
and twelve millions, four hundred and fifty-six thousand two
hundred and fifty-nine. Each name contains forty words, but the
English, with its hundreds of thousands of trillions, billions,
millions, and upits, is much more systematic, and conveys a much
clearer idea than the American with its hundreds of quintillions,
quadrillions, trillions, billions, millions, thousands (observe the
entire change in the character of the nomenclature here), and units.
I think it hardly necessary for me, after now some fourteen years,
during which 1 have shown the utmost readiness to appreciate
things American at iheir full value— a readiness which many among
my fellow countrymen regard as extreme and unpatriotic (though
that is nonsense) — to explain that it is from no desire to find fault
that I thus dwell upon the unscientific and illogical nature of the
system of numeration adopted in American schools. The system,
employed as it now is, throughout the whole of the great American
section of the English-speaking race, involves serious inconvenience
from the mere fact that it differs from that employed elsewhere
where English is spoken and written. Probably when it was intro-
duced American arithmeticians hardly looked forward to the time
when America would take so large a share of the scientific work of
the English-speaking races as she does at present.

tion, on the strange mistake made by my friend Mr. Mattieu
Williams in imagining that the motion of our sun in the
path thus determined, about the common centre of gravity
of the solar system, can in any appreciable degree affect the
condition of the sun's interior. He has presented in his
suggestive book, " The Fuel of the Sun " — a book full of
novel ideas, but not free from startling mistakes — the quaint
notion that as our sun goes circling round and about the
common centre of gra\ity of the solar sy.st€m, his material
is swayed about with all sorts of effects and influences,
stirring it up, intermingling it, keeping it active, and so
forth, as might happen, for example, if the glowing fuel
within some great furnace were constantlv stirred up by the
swaying round of the whole furnace by some powerful
mechanism. The mistake is, perhaps, a not tmnatural one.
Something akin to it was made even by so skilful a mathe-
matician as Professor .Simon Newcomb, when, in the first
edition of his " Popular Astronomy," he presented the tides
as a product of centrifugal tendencies called into action as
our earth circles around the common centre of gravity of
the earth and moon.*

Mr. Williams's idea about a stirring up and shaking
together of the solar fuel is entirely erroneous. If the sun
were swinging bodily round a fixed axis, in such sort that
while some parts of his mass (being near to that axis)
moved much, there would result a certain stirring up of the
solar material which might, for anything I know to the con-
trary (though I have given no attention to so purely hypo-
thetical a case), have some such effects as Mr. WiUiams
imagines. But there is no such swinging. The sun moves
as a whole (with inconceivably slow motion, too), around or
upon his somewhat complex orbit, each particle moving in
an orbit of exactly the same size, so that there is no relative
motion among the different parts of his mass, and therefore
no strains or pressures are produced and no interchanges of
position occur.

I imagine that few recognise fully the next most striking
feature of the solar system after the amazing superiority of
the sun's mass — I mean the startling discrepiucy between
the outer family of planets and the inner. Each contains
four primary bodies — .Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune
forming one. Mercury, Yenus, the Earth, and Mars forming
the other. But while the combined mass of all the four
inner planets is not quite twice the mass of the earth, the
four outer planets together exceed the earth in mass no less
than — in round numbers — 450,000 times. Can we possibly
regard two families so disproportioned as resembling each
other in kind 1 I have been engaged now so many years in
endeavouring to persuade students of astronomy, both on «
prion grounds and on the more satisfactory evidence of
observed facts, that the giant planets are unlike the terrestrial
planets even as they are unlike the sim, each forming a
definitely distinct class, that though I may say I have now
succeeded, I can hardly expect very readily to persuade the
general reader that Jupiter and Saturn must be altogether

* I was rather interested in this mistake, because on the strength
of it, and a kindred mistake about the earth's reeling motion in
25,868 years being similarly caused, I had been taken sharply to
task by the editors of " Johnson's Cyclopedia " for not introducing
some such explanation of the tides and of precession into the
astronomy of the " American Cyclopsedia." Here, wrote my severe
and anonymous critic (or to this effect), was our American astro-
nomer, all ready with a new cut-and-dried explanation of these
phenomena, and Messrs. Appleton pay this " blawsted Britisher " for
reproducing the old one. The old one, however, chances to be right ;
the new one (as it appeared shortly after in the first edition of
" Newcomb's Astronomy ") is wholly wrong ; and even in the very
mild and modified form in which it appears In the second edition,
it has no value whatever as an original explanation, being only a
recondite way of presenting the most unsatisfactory portions of the
old one.

58

♦ KNO^A^LKDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

unlike our terrestrial home, and must have had in the past,
as they will have in the future, quite different life histories.
But .such is certainly the case. It might be inferred from
what we know of the disproportion of the masses, and all
the more certainly from what we have recently learned to
consider extremely probable respecting their general resem-
blance in structure. (For, unlike collections of unlike
materials might by some strange chance have like life his-
tories ; but such similar Ufe histories could never occur in
unlike collections of like materials, or in like collections of
unlike materials.)

It is, however, noteworthy how, even within each family
of planets — the family of giant planets and the family of
terrestrial planets — differences of size and mass exist which
suggest marked differences of life history, and also enable
us to infer from analogy great differences among the com-
ponent members of higher systems, as sidereal systems,
systems of such systems, and so on to higher and higher
orders endlessly. I have said that the whole of the inferior
family of planets is less in mass than twice our earth ; in
other words, our earth surpasses all the rest put together.
Venus in turn surpasses Mars, Mercury, and the moon
together ; Mars surpasses Mercury and the moon together ;
each member of the family, in fine, surpasses all those less
than itself taken together. Turning to the f^imily of giant
planets, we find the same law there. Jupiter surpasses
Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune together some two and a half
times ; Saturn surpasses Uranus and Neptune together more
than threefold ; Neptune surpasses Uranus and all the
rest (moons, rings, cfcc.) of the outer system, with the whole
system of terrestrial planets and satellites thrown in.

{To he co7ifinued.)

LARGE TELESCOPES.

HAVE been glad to notice that my friend Pro-
fessor Young has come round to the opinion
I liave been somewhat strenuously maintaining,
that the great telescopes which have lately been
made are capable of better and more interest-
ing work than hitherto has been accomplished
with them. I have not seen yet the article
itself in the Forum, wherein Professor Young has indicated
the value of great telescopes, and the way in which work
done with them can increase our knowledge and extend the
horizon of astronomy ; but I have before me a characteristic
passage fx'om his essay, the tone of which shows clearly that
Professor Young fully indorses the views I have expresed
respecting the fine telescopes made so skilfully by the Clarkes
and others, and (in several cases) presented so generously to
astronomers by men or societies of adequate means.

" The reasonableness of wanting larger telescopes still,"
says Professor Young, " is identically the same as that of
wanting a telescope at all." This, though somewhat
tautologically expressed, is in reality the essence of the
whole matter. Astronomy wanted telescopes that moi-e of
the universe might be seen and studied, and as far as pos-
sible understood ; and each increase of telescopic power has
come in lesponse to the longing of astronomy for a wider
range of view, increased insight and better understanding of
the wonders which lie concealed from ordinary vision in the
remote depths of space.

When one of these far-seeing eyes of astronomy, promising
keener vision than had yet been attained, has been provided,
and when one of the observing army of astronomy has been
set in charge of it, high expectations are naturally formed
respecting the work it will accomplish. No one who under-

stands optical laws can for a moment doubt that such a
telescope will do more than one of inferior light-gathering
power. This is so, even though a smaller instrument be to
some degi-ee superior in actual quality ; but as a matter of
fact our opticians are improving year by year the quality of
their instruments while increasing the size of the gi-eat eyes
they make for scanning star-strewn space. Accordingly
astronomy has a right to expect that, even though no actual
discoveries may be made by means of a new telescope of
superior qualities, the details of objects already known will
be better examined, and so be more fuUy understood.

As Professor Young well says, " It is not possible now to
go out at night as some seem to think " — who must be
entirely ignorant of the work astronomy has already done —
" and pick up discoveries as one would gather flowers in a
forest ; but we may be sure of this," the large telescope
" will collect data, with micrometer, camera, and spectro-
scope, which will remove many old difficulties, will clear up
doubts, will actually advance our knowledge— and what is
still more important, will prepare the way and hew the
steps for still higher climbing towards the stars." The last
half sentence may have more metaphor than meaning, more
rhetoric than reasoning ; but though we may not quite
know how much Professor Young i-eally means by hewing
out steps for climbing towards the stars (after all this is
not more highfalutin than Horace s " star-striking with his
sublime top"), his main argument is sound. A larger
telescope, even when used only for going over ground
already surveyed with smaller ones, is capable of doing most
important and valuable work. The small telescope may dis-
cover objects, precisely as the naked eye discovered the sun
and moon and planets ; but the larger one will show better
what those objects really are, revealing details which before
had been either wholly unseen or so imperfectly seen as to
be misunderstood. A larger telescope still will show the
details of those details, and fresh details, to be still further
and more completely analysed when higher powers are
applied — if only the larger telescope is zealoTisly applied to
such work.

Many interesting examples might be cited of the way in
which large telescopes properly used complete the work
begun by smaller ones.

Consider, for example, the discovery of the sti-ange
Saturnian appendage which we now know as the ring
system of Saturn. As every one knows, it was Galileo,
with his little telescope, who discovered that Saturn had
something about him which was unlike anything yet seen.
Old Saturn, said Galileo, in his fanciful way, has two
satellites which attend him on his way. Later, in a more
businesslike communication to Kepler, he said : — " Saturn
consists of three stars in contact with one another." And
last, addressing the world of science, he announced that he
had observed the remotest (or the highest, "as it was still
the fashion to call the most distant) planet, to be triform —
altissimum planetam tergiminum observari. Such was the
discovery of the Saturnian ring-system. No larger telescope
could rediscover it ; but every increase of telescopic power
applied to Saturn has taught us something more about the
system. Galileo was never able to understand why the
attendants who guided Saturn on his way were so variable
in aspect, and still less why, when he looked at Saturn in
1612, he could see no attendants at all. Hevelius, with
larger instruments went some way, but not very far, towards
interpreting the mystery. He analysed as well as he could
the Saturnian changes, and this is his sesquipedalian report
of the results he obtained: "Saturn," said he, "presents
three various figures to the observer — to wit, in manner
following: — first, the monospherical ; secondly, the tri-
spherical ; thirdly, the spherico-ansated ; fourthly, the ellip-

January 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

59

tico-ansated ; fifthly and lastly, the spherico-cuspidated," of
which many a popular reader in those days might have re-
marked— if thei-e had been popular readers then — what
Gilbert's devoted lover remarks of the Tupperian senti-
ment : —

" A fool is bent upon a twig, but a wise man fears a bandit,"
Which I know was very clever, but I couldn't understand it,

Hevelius meant simply, however — though he expressed
himself anything but simply — that t^atnrn looks sometimes
like a globe, sometimes like three globes, sometimes like a
globe with handles, sometimes like an egg with handles, and
sometimes like a globe with projections. Further telescopic
research by Huyghens showed that Saturn is surrounded by
a flat ring inclined to the plane in which the planet travels.
Cassini's larger telescopes showed the ring to be double ;
further re.searches disclosed divisions in the outer ring ; then
the inner dark ring (semi-transparent, so that the planet's
outline can be seen through it) was discovered ; and with
each increase of telescopic power fresh discoveries were
made, which are going on still, and will doubtless continue
to go on for a long time yet to come.

Only it is to be observed of this case, as of all such cases,
that if each astronomer who was put in charge of each new
telescope had been unwilling to examine with it the
Saturnian ring-system because already some one else had
discovered such and such details, all this pleasing progress
wotild have been brought to an end. It will presently be
seen why I dwell on this rather important consideration.

There is scarcely an object of telescopic study which has
not in some such way rewarded each increase of telescopic
power and each fresh inquiiy by keen-sighted and earnest
observers. Every planet either shows more of detail, or
shows the details of its surfoce more clearly, or shows that
details supposed to have been seen have no real existence
when increased telescopic power is applied to its examina-
tion. The stars not only appear in greater numbers under
such increase of power, but single stars are resolved into
double, triple, or multiple stars ; minute companions are
resolved into sets of attendants ; and movements are detected
and measured which with smaller telescopes might have
escaped notice, or only been recognised after a much longer
time had elapsed. The star clouds or nebulae are seen in
greater detail with larger telescopes, and indeed many new
nebulas are usually discovered when higher telescopic powers
than had before been used are applied to the search for them.
The structure of comets is more and more clearly shown as
larger telescopes are used in the study of cometic mysteries.
And last, to return to our more immediate neighbourhood,
the study of the sun and moon has progressed very obviously
and decidedlj' as larger telescopes have been applied to the
details of the surface of either orb.

I may take the examination of the sun's surface as illus-
trating in a very effective way the advantages to be derived
from the use of large telescopes.

Galileo, Scheiner, and Fabricius could recognise little
more than the fact that the sun has spots on his face at
times, and that these spots are carried round in such a way
as to show that the sun rotates on his axis. Hevelius noted
the maculce or mottling, and the faculce or bright streaks.
Wilson recognised the changing appearance of the spots, and
the evidence that they are depressions. The elder Herschel
recognised the coiTugations. Nasmyth called attention to
details which he called the willow-leaves, comparing the
appearance to that which would be produced if a number of
luminous objects of a form somewhat resembling that of the
willow leaf were strewn on a somewhat darker ground.
Dawes^nd Huggins showed that with better telescopes the
appearance of a bright network on a dai-ker background gave

place to that of a darkei' network on a bright grovmd, and
this appearance in turn to that of a number of bright gi-ains
strewn more or less inegularly over a surface which, though
relatively darker, is in reality intensely bright ; and lastly,
Langley has shown, by yet more careful scrutiny, that the.se
grains, the so called rice-gi-ains, are irregular in shape ; that
they become elongated in the neighbourhood of spots, and
that a number of forms akin in variety alike of individual
shape and of combination to the cloud-forms — cirrus,
cumulus, and nimbus, cirro-stratus, cirro-cumulus, <fec. —
seen in our skies can be recognised in the glowing photo-
sphere of the sun. Nor can we yet tell how much more of
detail, or, therefore, how much more of significance may
come to be recognised hereafter in the structure of the
great ruling centre of our system.

But if new telescopes of increased power are to do what
they are unquestionably capable of doing, and what asti-o-
nomy is entitled to expect of them, there must be no per-
functory control of the observatories in which they are
erected. There is a danger (which we have recognised in
the old country, and which exists, I fear, to some degree in
America also) lest the large telescopes should come to be
spoken of more for what they are capable of doing than for
what they are doing or have done. There is further danger
lest smaller telescopes alone should be busUy employed, and
this rather to encourage the construction of important
observatories, capable of splendid work (provided with large
telescopes and also managed by persons capable of di-awing
large salaries), than with any gi-eat desire to advance astro-
nomical knowledge.

We have bad in England one or two such marked exam-
ples of this sort of thing that (knowing human nature to be
everywhere much the same) no true lover of science can
fail to feel somewhat anxious lest in America also the same
thing might happen. Such men as Mr. Huggins, in England,
and Dr. Henry Draper, in America, doubtless enable us to
entertain the hope that men like the Newtons and
Herschels of past times are still among us, who are capa-
ble of working zealously at science for science's own sake.*
When on the other hand we find, as we have in England,
men skilful as observers making their really clever researches
a sort of fulcrum for levering up a well-salaried post, and
either when such post has been secured or when all hope of
securing it has failed, dropping altogether their zeal for
science, we begin to recognise a danger which threatens
seriously the future of our big telescopes. 1 mean the risk
that they should fall into the hands of men who have no
genuine zeal for science, even though in the past they may
have done good work in research. Such men there have been
even among astronomers, men who have, indeed, regarded
large telescopes as instruments by which remarkable dis-
coveries might be accomplished, but who have cared for
such discoveries only as stepping-stones for themselves.

* I am quite aware, even as I write these lines, that William
Herschel, and in less degree John Herschel, availed themselves of
the power that science gives of earning a livelihood, or even of
maintaining a family, through some development of scientific
research. William Herschel made telescopes for sale, and Jolm
Herschel wrote books, from the sale of which considerable sums
accrued to himself and to his family. Even if the Herschels had
held, as Newton did, salaried posts for work associated with
science, it would in no sense have affected the distinction I draw
between them and men who value scientific research oiili/ as a
means for gaining money. Self-support, and the maintenance of
those dependent upon one, are duties which come before even the
advancement of science. But we see Newton's zeal for science
showing itself in work done independently of all possibility of
profit. William Herschel gave up remunerative business that he
might devote his whole time to astronomy, on the merest chance
that a portion of his scientific work might avail for self-main-
tenance.

60

♦ KNOVV^LEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

I could cite, \vitli names and dates in full and ample
documentary evidence, a case -n-liich for a while created a
good deal of excitement in the old country — where the sug-
gestion was definitely made to Government that, because X
had made several clever observations and a few intei-esting
discoveries, and because X's name had tlius (most men
scarcely knew Y) become widely known, he should have not
only a new observatory but a uew kind of observatory made
for him, whence he should make more observations, for
only 2,000/. (say 10,000 dols.) per annum. It was made
clear to those who for a while were rather pleased with the
thought, that if X were really zealous for astronomy, the
mere command of a telescope of greatly increased power
would be felt by him to be an ample reward for past work,
or that at least he would seek only for the means of sup-
porting himself in comfort, not to be paid a lavish salary
for a part only of his time. So —

The scheme fell through,
It would not do.

But thoughtful men noted the danger then escaped ; and
in England, at any rate, they will in future think twice
before they plan new observatories and provide new salai'ies
in pursuance even of the most plausible schemes for what
has been pleasantly called the " endowment of research."

It is unfortunate that the question of making and using
large telescopes cannot be readily dealt with without the
introduction of questions so sordid (for though there is
nothing sordid about self-maintenance — while the mainte-
nance of family Ls a sacred duty — jobbery is always sordid) ;
but the fact remains. Those who wish to see great observa-
tories and fine telescopes doing the work of which they are
capable, have generously, though somewhat thoughtlessly,
concluded that the best way is to offer veiy high remunera-
tion in order that the services of the best men may be
secured. Unfortunately such generosity is apt to defeat its
own ends. The men who jump at such offers are not apt to
be the men most anxious to advance the cause of science.

How would it be if a course the reverse of this were
adopted ? if instead of saying, " We will offer such and such
advantages, and salaries so high, that we may be sure of
securing the services of the best astronomers," those who
generously provide means for erecting great observatoi-ies
were to say, " We are sure to (jet the services of earnest and
zealous astronomers if we offer all that is wanted in the way
of scientific apjiliances — and notliimj more" 1

Apropos of Mr. Lockyer's latest novelty, his " Preliminary
Note on the Spectra of Meteorites" summarised (!) in five
columns of the Times of November 18, and made the sub-
ject of a good advertising leader in the same issue, we must
express our surprise at the absence of any reference to the
remarkable phenomenon reported from Clayton (Ga.) in the
shape of an aerolite which fell there, and on the polished
surface of which was a deeply graven circle, within which
was a four-pointed star, a representation of a bird-re]itile,
resembling in a measure the extinct archseopteryx, and a
great number of smaller figures resembling those used in
modern shorthand I An analysis of a fragment reveals —
at least, so " H. Eandolph Stevens, analytical chemist,"
tells us — the presence of a " new element." We can readily
believe this. There must be many " new elements " in the
matter, and we await with interest the promi-ied ofScial
report, which will probably be drawn up by Captain Law-
son, the author of " Wanderings in New Guinea," and his
friend, a descendant of Baron Munchausen. Really, INIr.
Lockyer must look to his laurels.

ROYAL VICTORIA HALL.

{To the Editor q/" Knowledge.)
TIE Tuesday Popular Lectures for the last
four weeks have presented much variety in
their subjects. First, Sir John Lubbock
gave his hearers an amusing collection of
the oddities of savage life. This was fol-
lowed by a mountaineering excursion to
Switzerland and the Caucasus, under the
guidance of Mr. Donkin, hon. sec. of the
Alpine Club. We say advisedly an excursion, for the
splendid photographs did all that was possible to bring snow
peaks and glaciers into the presence of Londoners who could
not go in search of them. Then Professor Boyd Dawkins
told the ever-marvellous story of our coalfields, and finally
Dr. W. D. Halliburton gave a lectm-e on "The Eye and
How we See."

He gave a very clear and well-illusti-ated account of the
structure of the eye, then explained so much of refraction
as was necessary to understand the action of lenses, and the
passage of the rays of light to the retina. He alluded to
the long-standing puzzle of upright vision, and remarked
that there is some reason to think that we see in virtue of
a temporar)' photograph on the " visual purple," which is
for the time being bleached by light. If a frog ^the animal in
which this visual purple is most developed) is decapitated in
front of a window, a white inverted image of the window
v.'ill be found on the visual purple of his retina. Passing on
to defects of vision. Dr. Halliburton explained the causes
of long and short sight, and the action of the appropriate
spectacles, and insisted on the importance of attending to
inflammation of the eyelids in babies, lest opacity of the
cornea should result — the most frequent cause of blindness.
Finally, he spoke of so-called colour-blindness, or the in-
ability to distinguish between colours, especially red and
green, which proves on investigation to be so common that
it is a serious source of danger at sea and on the railway.
Possibly many unexplained collisions ma\' be due to mis-
reading of signals on this account. One narrow escape is
known to have taken place. Two vessels were nearing each
other at night, with the usual lights displayed. But it
happened that on board one of them both mate and steers-
man were colour-blind, and a collision must have tiiken
place had not the captain happily overheard the order given,
rushed on deck, and, knocking down the man at the wheel,
altered the ship's cour.se just in time.

The lectures will be resumed, after the Christmas enter-
tainment, on January 10, when Mr. Stradling has promised
a lecture on " The Great Sea Serpent," illustrated by living
reptiles. He will be followed on successive Tuesdays by
INIr. Rudler (president of the Geologists' Association) on
" Caves and Cave Men " ; Professor Bonney on " Early
Modes of Burial in Bretagne " ; and Professor Ramsay on
" Early and Later Alphabets."

C. A. Maetineau.
1 Clifton Place, Sussex Square, W.

Causes of Idiocy. — Dr. T. Langdon Down, inquiring into the
causes of idiocy, has found that intemperance of parents is one of
the most considerable factors in producing the affection. His view
is confirmed by some French and German investigators, one of
whom, Dr. Delasiauve, has said that in the village of Careme, whose
riches were in its vineyards, ten years' comparative sobriet}-, en-
forced by vine disease, had a sensible effect in diminishing the
cases of idiocy. Nervous constitution and consumption exercise
important influence. Of the professions, lawyers furnish the
smallest proportion of idiots, while they are credited with the pro-
creation of a relatively very large number of men of eminence.
AV'ith the clergj- these proportions are more than reversed. The
infiuence of consanguineous marriage, per se, is insignificant, if
it crisis.

January 2, 1888.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

61

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP XV.— For DECEMBER, JANUARY, and FEBRUARY.

*S o-^^

3>-

'(^-^

^ « ♦> ^

;»*_ & ->-

, ^^\ \ ^ .....^

r-r--~-

The Night Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46° to 24° S.)

AND the
Southern Skies in England (Upper Half of Map only) at the following Times :

At 1 o'clock, morning, Jan. 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ Jan. 15.

„ Midnight, Jan. 23.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Jan. 30.

At 11 o'clock, night, Feb. 7.

„ 10.30 „ „ Feb. U.

[., 10 „ „ i'eb. 22.

„ 9.30 „ „ Mar. 1.

At 9 o'clock, night. Mar. 8.

„ 8.30 „ „ Mar. 15.

„ 8 „ „ Mar. 23.

7.30 ,, ,, Mar. 30.

First

Second ,

Star Magnitudes.
Third . . . . *

Fourth

Fifth

62

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

MAP XI.

hy Riclif A-Ptoctor.

The Vn^ar scale To^aUyiBliyaihrm
thrauffhotU ; Oie ih^irrt sca2^ ts
^foter by ^ts"haW way to tiie edi^c,
ojul by.M^ot the edqe.

^cuU ofRfilc^i at centr*. ot map

*eo 600 800 1000

MAP 12

Small areas are greaxer 'by}ts ■ half
way to Oie edffe ; anjcL by^i^'^ a*
0i£ edge.

January 3, 1888.]

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

By W

COAL.

Mattieu Williams.

THE PKAIX.iGE AND PUMPISG OF COAL-MIXES.

HE vexed question of the duration of our
coal-fields woxild have been quite settled ere
this, had our means of removing the water
from coal-mines remained as they were pre-
vious to the inventions of James Watt.
As I long ago explained, the end of our
coal -digging will occur long l)efore our
coal-se-ams are exhausted, long before the physical po.ssi-
biUties of working the coal are exhausted. It will be deter-
mined commercially when the cost of obtaining coal at
home exceeds that of importing it from abroad, or of the
growing of wood. With the tread-wheels, hoi-se-gins, water-
wheels, and other pumping-machines that were in use at
the begmning of the last century applied to our present
workings, coal would now cost far more than firewood, and,
even with the steam-engines that preceded tliose of Watt, it
would cost nearly as much. As it is, in spite of all our
improvements, there are great well-known coal-seams re-
maining unworked, and pi-actically unwoikable, for the
simple reason that the cost of removing the water added
to the ordinary cost of coal-getting would exceed the market
value of the product. All this coal is, in colliers' expressive
language, " drowned out."

If coal-seams occurred in non-porous rocks, such as granite
and compact hmestone, like the marble of Carrara (where I
have walked a couple of miles underground without seeing
water), no drainage nor pumping would be required, but this
is far from being the case ; the chai-acteristic rocks of the
coal measures are porous sandstone and shale. Here and
there are alternating strata of what the sinkera call " metal,"
or hard compact rock practically impenetrable to water, but
for the most part the rock above the coal permits the in61-
tration of much of the rain water that falls on the surface.
That which oozes or pours through the sides of the shaft
may be resti-ained by " tubliing," as already described, but
the water that comes through the roof and sides of the
roads and workings must be first collected by drainage and
finally removed by pumping or hauling to the surface.
There are some few dry coal-mines, of which I shall speak
hereafter.

The drainage is eftected by the simple device to which I
have already alluded, that of beginning to work on the
deep, i.e. at that part of the estate where the coal is deepest,
and then proceeding upwards along the natural slope of the
seam. The water may thus run down the roads or by
special drains or " water gates," until it reaches the shaft,
which is sunk to a considerable depth beyond the lowest
opening of the roads in order to form a sumph or receptacle
for the water, from which sumph it is drawn by winding
buckets or pumps.

Some primitive coal-mines were drained without any
winding or pumping. This is possible wherever the seam
occurs in hilly districts and Kes at a higher level than the
bottom of the valley. In such cases, an adit-level, i.e. a narrow
tunnel, may be cut from the lowest part of the intended
working, through the side of the slope, into the open valley.
The water, of course, flows down this into the river, or in
some cases directly into the sea. This is still used wherever
the configuration of the counti-y renders it possible, but
unfortunately for the present generation, our forefathers
have nearly, if not entirely, exhausted such deposits of coal.
It is in lead and copper mines that adit drainage is now more
available.

I need not describe the mechanism of pit-pumps — pumps
ai'e pumps everywhere, and are properly described in
treatises on such machines. The special feature of coal-pit
pumps is their great size in some instances, and the depths
from which they raise the water. In old times, when only
the seams of coal near to the surface were worked, the
simple so-called "suction pump" was used, acting, as in
these post-Torricellian days we all know, by the pressure of
the atmosphere. But this pressure could only sustain a
little more than a 30-feet column of water, and therefore at
greater depths, pumping by successive stages, or the use of
lift -pumps or force-pumps wiis adopted, or more commonly
in tlie early days the water in the deeper pits was raised by
winding, by using large buckets that dipped into the
" sumph" in the manner I described when on the subject of
pit-sinking.

Costly as may be the raising of water from coal and other
mines, its costliness has made mankind the richer. This
cost was the chief stimulant to invention in the birth and
growth of the steam-engine. The primitive machines of
Papin, Savery, Xewcomen. Leupold, Beighton, and Smeatcm
were constructed for pumping water from mines, and the
first eflbrts of Watt with his separate condenser were de-
voted to the same object. There was a double advantage
in this. Not only was the engine especially suitable for
such work, but such work reacted with special benefit on
the engine which had to overcome a gi-eater deadweight
than that of water down in the darkness of a pit sumph.
The deadweight of prejudice had also to be b'fted out of the
still lower and darker depths of human stupidity, and the
inventions brought to the light in spite of the resistance of
vested interests. The damaging power of these detestable
agents was proved by the fact that they crushed Dud
Dudley's great invention of the manufacture of ii'on by pit
coal and ruined the inventor, thereby causing a halt of
about a century in the progress of this important branch
of industry.

The impossibility of crushing the steam-engine and its
in\entors arose from the fact that its work in pumping
water from mines was so easily and obviously measui-able.
The quantity of water raised from a given depth by the
expenditui-e of a given amount of fuel admitted of such
definite statement that misrepresentation was drowned
by it.

A few figures indicating the progress we have made in
this direction will be interesting. When Smeaton com-
menced his improvements, the average </?«?// — i.e. the
number of pounds of water raised one foot per bushel of
coal consumed was 5,590,000. In 1772 he erected an
engine at Wheal Busy which attained a duty of 9,450,000.
But presently — i.i;. between 1776 and 1779 — he was
beaten by Watt, and admitted that Watt's engines per-
formed double the duty of his own. Some were te-sted,
and proved to reach 19 millions, and the average of Watt's
engines in Cornwall amounted to 1 7 millions. Finally, his
engine at Herland attained 20 millions, and Watt was
satisfied, pronounced his work perfect, and expected no
further improvement. But in 1823 the proved duty had
reached 28 millions, in 1843 it had grown to 60 millions,
and now we even exceed 100 millions; the record of an
engine erected at Fowey Consols Mine having, while worked
under strict supervision during twenty-four hours, attained
a duty of 125 millions. Such maximum duty is attained in
Cornwall, where coal is dear, and the men in charge of the
engine are (or were) rewarded according to the duty they
obtained. Not so in the Black Country, where coal is so
ruinously cheap, and no record of engine duty is kept.

When a seam is worked out and left, the old workings
usually become filled with water, and such occupation of the

64

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

space limits the amount of collapse of the rock. But such
working out may be only effected commercially — /.?., the
working may only be carried to the limits of the estate or
royalty, not to that of the seam. Thus the same seam may
be opened again on an adjoining estate, and the new work-
ings brought close upon the boundary of the previous work-
ings. When this is the case, great caution is necessary, the
law demands that a bore-hole shall be driven forwards (six
feet ahead if I remember rightly) in order to feel for the
water. A serious accident occurred at Leeswood, in Flint-
shire, while I was there. This precaution had been
neglected ; an old abandoned working was broken into by
the pick, and through the breach a flood of water poured,
drowning seven or eight men.

Much of the coal which is now lying drowned out might
be made available by co-operative pumping. This is the
case where a large area is held by different landlords, and is
so situated, as regards level, that neither estate can be
pumped without pumping all the rest, and each refuses to
pump for the benefit of his neighbours. Possibly this diffi-
culty will be ultimately settled by the Government taking
possession of the whole, and working it for the benefit of
the nation ; pumping all, and charging dry royalty to pay
for the pumping. In this case " royalty " would return to
its original signification — viz., pajTuent to the king.

AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHIC EXHIBITION.

HE annual exhibition of amateur photographic
work held by the London Stereoscopic and
Photographic Co., Limited, has become an
event looked forward to with great interest
by all amateur photographers and those
interested in the progress of photography.
The present exhibition, now open at 108
and 111) Regent Street, is quite as interesting as its
predecessors — and, in fact, to one who has visited all these
exhibitions a steady and marked improvement in the style
and class of work is distinctly noticeable. Photogi-aphs have
been sent in from all parts of the world, as many as four
thousand pictiues having been entered. A large number of
money prizes, and gold, silver, and bronze medals, have been
awarded, and the work is so excellent that in many cases
the judges — Captain W. de W. Abney, Mr. T. C. Hepworth,
the editor of the Camera, Mr. Hastings, and Mr. Dun-
cuft — must have had great difficulty in finally deciding to
whom the palm should be awarded. It is very noticeable,
also, that both ladies and gentlemen seem to acquire
the art of photography with great ease, and gain proficiency
with wonderful rapidity ; some who have now taken gold
medals were, only two years ago, perfectly ignorant of the art.
The exhibits now on view number 2,260 mounts, the
majority of \s-hich are shown in portfolios, while a large
number of the prize pictures have been framed and hung
upon the walls. These Ulusti-ate an immense variety of the
branches of photographic art-portraiture, landscape, archi-
tecture, warfare, animal studies, genre pictures, instan-
taneous views of action, micro-photography and other
branches being well represented.

Taking the exhibits in then- order in the catalogue, we
see at Frame 1 Mrs. Edward Penton's highly commended
and highly commendable views of Tintern Abbey.
Frames 2 and 3 contain Mr. Harry Tolley's exquisite
pictures, " White-iobed Nature," a delicate snow scene, and
" At Ham, Derbyshire," to which have been awarded the
\0l. prize given in Class I., which was open to all amateurs,
and the gold medal given by the Camera Magazine for the

best general work. Mr. Tolley also exhibits, Nos. 49,
50, 57, a beautiful platinoty]3e of a group in a boat
gathering water-lilies, and 75, a very fine interior of
Exeter Cathedral. In Class II., for marine subjects,
the silver medal has been carried off by Captain C. M.
Harrison for his excellent pictures of yachts in motion.
Frame 5. In Chiss III., for sporting pictures, the 5Z. prize
has been taken by Lieutenant R. B. Croft, R.X., for
Frame 15, which contains seven studies of animals. The
silver medal has been taken by Jlr. J. T. Hopwood for his
beautiful little Jersey cattle (69), whUe one of the bronze
medals has fallen to Sir M. G. and Miss F. Harvey for
their pictures of " Sport in Many Lands," two of which
appear in Frame -11, and represent a dead hippopotamus
and a dead buffalo, each being surrounded by a gi'oup ot
beaters and sportsmen. In Cla.ss IV., for the most original
picture, the silver medal has deservedly fallen to the Rev.
F. C. Lambert for Frame 52, which contains three pictures,
viz., "The Jubilee Joke," the cleverest study of laughter
that we have ever seen ; " There is No Deception ; the
Amateur Conjuror," a capital interior and composition
picture ; and " The Amateur Photographer," a little girl pre-
tending to take the portrait of another little girl and
a baby by means of a camera made of an old chimney-
pot hat. The bronze medals have been awarded to the
Countess Oriola (45). Two pictures, called "At the
Fountain " — after the Greek style — and " A Family Group "
of Egj'ptian women and child, which is far the best of the
three ; and to Dr. E. W. Alabone (16) for his exceedingly
comic pictures — " Going," " High Jump," and " Gone." In
Class v., open only to pupils of the Stereoscopic Company,
the gold medal was awarded to Mr. Howard J. Kennard for
Fi'ames 11 and 12, exquisite views of the Rhine and
Switzerland ; the silver medal to Mjr. J. T. Hopwood for
(73) " Winter" and a splendid interior, the " Music Room,
Ribton Hall." In this class six medals were awarded, and
the work is of the highest excellence. In Class VI., which
is open only to those who have begun the art with the
present yeai", some really remarkable work is shown. The
5Z. prize was well won liy Mr. E. A. Golledge for Frame 60,
which contains eight pictures, of which the most interesting
are the instantaneous views (1) of "Ladies Bathing" (284)
of "Yachts in Motion," and (8) of "Yarmouth Bridge."
No. 5, of childi-en " Going for a Drive " in a goat chaise, is
quite charming. Four other awards were made in this class,
the silver medal being given to Mr. D. A. Clarke, M.A., for
Frame 24, which contains three excellent pictures, of which
the best Ls " Filling the Water-cart." In Class VII., open only
to the fair sex, awards have been made to five ladies. Miss
C. Wrigley being the winner of the 5/. prize for Frame 61,
which contains four country pictures, of which the prettiest
is another " Gathering Lilies " — a man standing in a punt
on a beautiful piece of water. In Class VIII., open only to
customers of the company, the 10^. prize has been won by
Mr. G. Davison, for a set of three capital pictures (78) ; and
ten awards have been given, one bronze medal having fallen
to the Rev. H. B. Hare, whose excellent work last j-ear
makes us wish he had been more strongly represented this
time. In Class IX., for officers of her Majesty's service,
six awards were made, Surgeon F. M. Puddicombe, R.N.,
winning the silver medal for Frame 8, which contains four
most interesting pictures, of which (1) "A Torpedo Boat
going 16 knots an hour," and (3) " Whitehead Torpedo in
the act of Explosion," are the most noteworthy. Mr. Cyril
S. Cobb is the winner of the silver medal in Class X.,
and Lieutenant G. H. Call in Class XL for (70), of
which two views of the interior of the White ^Marble
Palace at Delhi are very beautiful. In Class XII.,
open to members of the learned profession.^, Mr. W^. Lant

Jaxiary

1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

65

Carpenter wins the silver medal for his ten photographs
from fossils (SI), and Mr. S. F. Clarke a bronze medal for
his twenty-two wonderful micro-photographs (72). In
Class XIII., for photographs taken on the company's dry-
plates, Mr. Carpenter again wins a silver medal for (20)
eight beautiful views, and Miss E. G. Stone a bronze medal
for Frame 71, which contains five pictures, of which the
best are " The Sunflower " — a beautiful little girl holding
the flower in question — and '• Sisters" ; another bronze
medal was won by Mr. A. J. Baines. The gold medal in
Class XIY., for large direct photographs, was won by Mr.
J. T. Hop wood for Frame 5G, which contains six pictures,
of whicli the most noticeable is '• Jack," a pretty boy in
sailor's dress dancing a hornpipe ; while Mr. William
Adcock carries ofi'the silver medal for ^5-1) " A Labourer's
Luxury," a good rugged face with a pipe in its mouth. The
two bronze medals in this class were awarded respectively
to Messrs. H. Mansfield and J. E. Dumont. Mr. Dumont's
(10) "His Own Barber" being exceedingly clever and
amusing. The silver medal given by the Amateur Photo-
graplier for artistic treatment of difficult subjects is awarded
to Mr. G. Davison, for " A Breezy Day in Spring " (78),
and the bronze medal to INIiss Miles for her studies of horses
(80).

A pleasant hour or two can be spent in inspecting this
exhibition, which will remain open until further notice, and
which can be viewed gratis on presentation of a visiting
card. Such a visit will give a very adequate notion of
recent advances in photography, and is likely to encourage
the visitor who is not already a photographer to endeavour
speedil}' to acquire this charming and useful art.

DARWIN'S LIFE AND LETTERS.
I.

HESE long-expected volumes justify the
eagerness with which they havu been
awaited. In these daj-s, when biographical
liody-snatchers pounce on their victims
l)efore, as the phrase goes, the grave is cold
over them, Mr. Francis Darwin reproves
our haste and justifies his delay in allowing
more than five years to pass before issuing
this work, while he shows himself of like spirit with his
illustrious lather, the note of whose life is that he possessed
his soul in patience. The book is executed with consummate
.skill and reverent care. The biogr.apher is in no wise
obtrusive; he comes between reader and subject only to
supply the needed links to connect the letters which com-
pri.se four-fifths of the work, adding a sketch of his father's
everyday life and methods of working, not gratifying over-
much the idle curiosity which hungers for gossip about the
private life of celebrities, but just putting us on easy terms
with Darwin, so that we feel we know what manner of man
he was, and find every favourable impression given us by
his books and his relations with his contemporaries con-
firmed. Looming larger than he himself dreamed among
the makers of epochs, he did not strive nor cry, but kept
himself from the clamour of tongues in the quiet sanctuary
of home, partly because he preferred the seclusion, but also
because the nature of his work demanded it, and chiefly
because of the wretched health which, especially after his
voyage, prostrated him for weeks together, and even under
the best conditions permitted him to work but three hours a
day. For these reasons only a fovoured few were received
into the family circle at Down, and the society even of these
was rarely sought " because of the excitement, violent
shivering, and vomiting thus brought on."

We quote from the chapter in the first volume, to which
readers will turn with most interest, as containing the
modest and candid autobiography which, without any
thought that it would ever be published, Darwin wrote for
his children when in his sixty-seventh year, '• as if" he .says
at the outset, " I were a dead man in another world looking
back at my own life." Next in interest to this is a charac-
teristic paper by that "defender of the faith," Profe.ssor
Huxley, who narrates, for the advantage of a generation
which has grown up since the battle raged, the stoiy of the
reception of the " Origin of Species." Upon the preparation
of this and Darwin's succeeding books the letters throw
abundant light, and for this purpose Mr. Francis Darwin
has wisely arranged them according to their several sub-
jects. By far the larger number are addressed to Sir Joseph
Hooker, whose fortunate prescience has preserved them from
the commencement ; and next in importance are those
addressed to the late Sir Charles Lyell and to Professor
Huxley. Both in the nature of its contents and in the
simple, lovable, truth-seeking character which it exhibits,
as of one to whom affection was dearer than fame, a more
delightful and abidingly valuable collection has never been
made p^iblic.

Darwin came of a long line of Lincolnshire yeomen,
whose forbears spelt the name variously, as Darwen,
Derwent, Darwynne, perhaps deriving it from rivers of
kindred name. His father was a kindly, prosi)erous
Shrewsbury doctor, son of Erasmus Darwin, also a doctor,
and the celebrated author of " Zoonomia," the " Botanic
Garden," and other florid and fantastic productions, in
which, however, an accurate .scientific presentment of certain
facts of development is embodied. Beyond i-eminding our
readers that his famous grandson was born at Shrewsbury
in February 1809, educated at the Grammar School there,
then at Edinburgh and Cambridge Universities ; occupied
as volunteer naturalist on board the Fnagle from December
1831 till October 1836; that he published the "Origin of
Species" in 1859, and was laid to rest in April 1882 near
the grave of Newton in our beautiful Abbey of Westminster,
we shall skip further oft-told detail, and, for the benefit of
tho.se to whom these portly volumes, the price of which is
six-and-thirty shillings, may not be within reach, deal with
some of the fresh matter which they contain," and the
authority for which is mainly vouched for in Darwin's own
words.

As with not a few other men of light and leading, neither
school nor university did much for him, nor did his boyhood
give indication of future greatness. In his answers to the
series of questions addressed to various scientific men in
1873 by his cousin, Fi'ancis Galton, he says : " I consider
that all I have learnt of any value has been self-taught,"
and he adds that his education fostered no methods of
observation or reasoning. Of the Shrewsbury Grammar
School, where, after the death of his mother in his ninth
year, he was placed as a boarder till he was sixteen years
old, he tells us "nothing could have been worse for the
development of my mind ; " all that he was taught were the
classics, and a little ancient geography and historj' — no
mathematics, and no modern languages. And this is the
abortion which still does duty for "education " in five-sixths
of the schools of England, where the mechanical curriculum
has no relation to the duties of after life. Happily for
Darwin, he had inherited a taste for natural history and
for collecting, his spoils including not only shells and plants,
but also coins and seals. When the fact that he helped
his brother in chemical experiments became known to
Dr. Butler, that desiccated pedagogue publicly rebuked
him "' for wasting time on such useless subjects." His father,
angry at finding that he was doing no good at school,

66

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

reproved him for caring for nothing but shooting, dogs, and
rat catching, and declared that he would be a disgrace to
the family ! He sent him to Edinburgh University with
his brother to study medicine, but Darwin found the dulness
of the lectures intolerable, and the sight of blood sickened
him, as it did his father. Although the effect of the
"incredibly" dry lectures on geology made him — the future
Secretary of the Geological Society ! — vow never to lead a
book on the science, or in any way study it, his interest in
biological subjects grew, and its firstfruits were shown in a
paper read before the Plinian Society at Edinburgh in 1826,
in which he reported his discovery that the so called ova of
Flustra, or the sea-mat, were larva?.

But his father had to accept the fact that Darwin disliked
the idea of being a doctor, and fearing that he would
degenerate into an idle sporting man, proposed that he
should become a clergyman ! Darwin says upon this : —

I asked for some time to consider, as £rom what little I had heard
or thought on the subject I had scruples about declaring luy belief
in all the dogmas of the Church of England, though otherwise I
liked the thought of being a country clergyraan. Accordingly I
read with care " Pearson on the Creed," and a few other books on
divinity ; and, as I did not then in the least doubt the strict and
liter.al truth of every word in the Bible, I soon persuaded m_vself
that our creed must be fully accepted. Considering how fiercely I
have been attacked by the orthodox, it seems ludicrous that I once
intended to be a clergyman. Nor was this intention and my father's
wish ever formally given up, but died a natural death when, on
leaving Cambridge, I joined the Beapli' as naturalist. If the phre-
nologists are to be trusted, I was well fitted in one respect to be a
clertryman. A few years ago the secretaries of a German psycho-
logical society asked me earnestly by letter for a photograph of
myself ; and some time afterwards I received the proceedings of one
of the meetings, in which it seemed that the shape of my head had
been the subject of a public discussion, and one of tlie speakers
declared that 1 had the bump of reverence developed enough for
ten priests.

The result was that early in 1828 he went to Cambridge,
the three years spent at which were " time wasted, as far as
the academical studies were concerned." His passion for
shooting and hunting led him into a sporting, card-playing,
drinking company, but .science was his redemption. No
pui-suit gave him so much pleasure as collecting beetles, of
liis zeal in which the following is an exami)le : " One day,
on tearing off some old bark, I saw two rare beetles, and
seized one in each hand : then I saw a third and new kind,
which I could not bear to lose, so I popped the one which
I held in my right hand into my mouth. Alas 1 it ejected
some intensely acrid fluid, which burnt my tongue so that
I was forced to s^iit the beetle out, which was lost, as was
the third one."

Darwin scarcely does his Alma J/reier justice, for, happily
for his future career, and therefore for the interests of
science,he became intimate with men like Wliewell, Henslow,
and Sedgwick, while the reading of Humboldt's " Personal
Narrative," and of Sir John Herschel's " Introduction to
Natural Philosophy," stirred up in him "a burning zeal to
add even the most humble contiibution to the noble struc-
ture of Natural Science." The vow to eschew geology was
(piickly broken when he came under the spsU of Sedgwick's
iallu'^nce, but it was the friendship of Henslow that deter-
niiufd his after career, and prevented him from becoming the
'• Rev. Charles Darwin." For on his return from a geological
toar in Wales with Sedgwick he found a letter from Henslow
awaiting him, the purport of which is in the following
extract : —

" I have been asked by Peacock (Lowndean Professor of
Astronomy at Cambridge) to recommend him a naturalist as
companion to Captain Fitz-Roy, employed by Government
to survey the southern extremity of America. I have
stated that I consider you to be the best-qualified person I
know of who is likely to undertake such a situation."

In connection with this the following memorandum from
Darwin's pocket-book of 1831 is of interest: — "Returned
to Shrewsbury at end of August. Refused offer of voyage."

This refusal was given at the instance of his father, who
objected to the scheme as " wild and unsettling, and as dis-,
reputable to his character as a clergyman " ; but he soon
yielded on the advice of his brother-in-law, Josiah Wedgwood,
and on Darwin's plea that he " should be deuced clever to
spend more than his allowance whilst on board the Beagle."
On this his father answered with a smile. '' But they tell
me you are very clever." It is amusing to find that Darwin
narrowly escaped being rejected by Fitz-Roy, who, as a
disciple of Lavater, doubted whether a man with such a
nose as Ditrwin's "could possess sufficient energy and deter-
mination for the voyage."

With the details of that voyage, the one memorable event
in Darwin's otherwise nnad venturous life, our readers are
surely familiar, for they are set down in delightful narrative
in his " Naturalist's Voyage Round the World," and it will
suffice to quote a passage from the autobiography bearing
on the significance of the materials collected during his five
years' absence.

During the voyage of the Beagle I had been deeply impressed by
discovering in the Pampean formation great fossil animals covered
with armour like that on the existing armadillos ; secondly, by the
manner in which closely allied animals replace one another in
proceeding southwards over the continent; and thirdly, by the
South American character of most of the productions of the
Galapagos Archipelago, and more especially by the manner in which
they differ slightly on each island of the group, none of the islands
appearing to be very ancient in a geological sense. It was evident
that such facts as these, as well as many others, could only be
explained on the supposition that species graduall.v became
modified ; and the subject haunted me. But it was equally evident
that " none of the evolutionary theories then current in the scientific
world ' could account for the innumerable cases in which organisms
of every kind are beautifully adapted to their habits of life. ... I
had always been much struck by such adaptations, and until these
could be explained, it seemed to me almost useless to endeavour to
prove by indirect evidence that species have been modified. ... In
October 1S38, that is, fifteen months after I had begun my
systematic in(|uiry, I happened to read for amusement " M.althus on
Population," and being well prepared to appreciate the struggle for
existence which everywhere goes on, from long-continued observa-
tions of the habits of plants and animals, it at once struck me that
under these circumstances favourable variations would tend to be
preserved, and unfavourable ones destroyed. The result of this
would be the formation of new species.

Shortly after his return he settled in London, prepared
his journal and manuscripts of observations for publication,
and opened, he s.ays under date of July 1837, " my first
note-book for facts in relation to the origin of species, about
which I had long reflected, and never ceased working for
the next twenty years." He acted for two years as one of
the honorar}' secretaries of the Geological Society, which
brought him into close relations with Lyell, and as his
health allowed him to go into society he saw a good deal
of prominent literary and scientific contemporaries, among
these, Herschel, Carlyle, Macaulay, Buckle, and Sydney
Smith. His reminiscences of these were evidently vague,
of no one of them does he attempt any full-length portrait ;
clearly they were not in " touch " with him. He quotes an
amusing stor3', which was told by Sydney Smith at Dean
Milman's, of the penurious Lady Cork, who was once so
much affected by one of the witty Canon's charity sermons
that she borrowed a guinea from a friend to put in the plate.
He has most to say about the fellow-dyspeptic who empties
big buckets of contempt on a theory which he had never
the patience to study, and who has only words of superior
pity for the poor creatures who wade through the " Origin
of Species," of which he says he could never read a line.

The last man whom I will mention is Carlyle, seen by me several
times at my brother's house, and two or three times at my own

January 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

67

house. His talk was very racy and interesting, just like his
writings, but he sometimes went on too long on the same subject.
I remeoiber a funny dinner at my brother's, where, amongst a few
others, were Cabbage and Lyell, both of whom liked to talk. Cir-
lyle, however, silenced everyone by haranguing during the whole
dinner on the advantages of silence. After dinner Baohage, in liis
grimmest manner, thanked Carlyle for his very interesting lecture
on !-ilence.

Carlyle sneered at almost everyone: one day in my house he
called Grote's '• History " a "fetid quagmire, with nothing spiritual
about it." I alwa3-s thought, until his " Reminiscences " appeared,
that his sneers were partlj- jokes, but this now seems rather doubt-
ful. His expression was thit of a depressed, almost despondent,
yet benevolent, mnn ; and it is notorious how heartily he laughed.
I believe that his benevolence was real, though stamed by not a
little jealousy. No one can doubt about his extraordinary power of
drawing pictures of things and men — far more vivid, as it appears to
me, than any drawn by Macaulay. Whether liis pictures of men
were true ones is another question.

He has been all-powerful in impressing some grand moral truths
on the minds of men. On the other hand, liis views about slavery
were revolting. In his eyes might was right. His mind seemed to
me a very narrow one ; even if all branches of science, which he
despised, are excluded. It is astonishing to me that Kingsley
should hive spoken of him as a man well fitted to advance science.
He laughed to scorn the idea that a mathematician, such as
Whewell, could judge, as I maintained he could, of Goethe's views
on light. He thought it a most ridiculous thing that anyone should
care whether a glacier moved a little quicker or a little slower, or
moved at all. As far as I could judge, I never met a man with a
mind so ill-adapted for scientific research.

In the aiitumn of 1842, two year.s and eight montlis after
his marriage with his first cousin, Emma Wedgwood,
Darwin removed from London, the air and social demands
of which were alike tinsuited to his health, and finally fixed
upon a house in the secluded village of Down, near
Beckenham, where he spent the rest of his days. Hence-
forth the life of Darwin is merged in the books in which,
from time to time, he gave the result of his long years of
patient observation and inquiry, from the epoch-making
'■Origin" to the monograph on earthworms. With liad
health, apparently due to gouty tendencies aggravated by
chronic sea-sickness during his voyage ; with nights that
never gave unbroken sleep, and days that were never pa.'sed
without prostrating pain, he might well have felt justified in
doing nothing whatever. But he was saved from the
accursed monotony of a wealthy invalid's life by his in-
satiate delight in searching for that solution of the problem
of the mutability of species which time would not fail to
bring. In this, he tells us, he forgot his " daily discomfort,"
and thus was delivered from morbid introspection.

Before dealing with the circumstances which hastened
the publication of the " Origin of iSpecies," and with the
influence of that book on belief in the supernatural, we may
biit'fly describe some aspects of the man himself, as presented
in Mr. Francis Darwin's chapter on the family life at Down.

The dome-like forehead with thick bushy eyebrows, the
Socrates-like features, the figure wrapped in loose cloak, witli
broad-brimmed felt hat in hand, are familiar to us through
photographs. But these do not tell us that he was six feet in
height, of stooping posture, with eyes bluish-grey, and
ruddy complexion which gave no sign of the dLscomfort from
which he was never wholly free. His laugh had an honest
and sounding ring, he ovei flowed with geniality that no
p lin could nnsweeten, he was a devoted father —the touch-
ing record of the little maiden whom he lo>t, and on whose
tomb he inscribed the simple words, '■ A dear, good child,"
evidence the tenderness of the man- he was fond of animals,
courteous even to the more inferior species, known as boi-es;
careful in money matters, extending this to the small con-
cerns of the villageFriendly Club; he betrayed an anxiety,
strange in a man of his wealth, about leaving his children a
competency ; there was a curious side of penui ionsness in
his economy of paper, from the b.icks of old MSS. to the

fragments of .spills. He took snuff when he worked, and
smoked when he rested, glad, after the more serious tasks
and correspondence of the day were over, to listen to novels,
for which he had a great love so long as they ended happily
and contained " some person whom one can thoroughly
love, if a pretty woman, so much the better." Strangely
enough, he lost all pleasure in music, art, and poetry after
thirty. When at school he enjoyed Thomson, Byron, and
Scott ; Shelley gave him inten.se delight, and he was fond of
Shakespeare, especially the historical plays ; but in his old
age he found him "so intolerably dull that it nauseated me."

This curious and lamentable loss of the higher a>sthetic tastes is
all the odder, as books on history, biographies, and travels (inde-
pendently of any scientiiic facts which they may contain), and
essays on all sorts of subjects, interest me as much as ever they did.
My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding
general laws out of large collections of facts, but why this should
have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone on which
the higher tastes depend I cannot conceive. A man with a mind
more highly organised or better constituted than mine would not,
I suppose, have thus suffered ; and, if I had to live my lite again,
1 would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some
music at least once every week, for perhaps ilie jMrts of my brain
now atrophied would thus have been kept active through use. The
loss of these tastes is a loss of happiness, and may possibly be
injurious to the intellect, and more probably to the moral character,
by enfeebling the emotional part of oui- nature.

TRICK WITH PAPER RINGS.

rHE annexed engraving from La JVature shows the
method of preparing paper rings for the performance
a curious experiment. Take three strips of p.aper,
2 inches in width by from 2 to 5 feet in length, and with

of

' /

V

JJ

I %•»

one of them form a ling, ;i.s shown in fig. 1, by pasting
the two ends together. Before pasting the ends of the

68

♦ KNO^A^LKDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

second ring, give the paper a single twist (fig. 2), and before
completing the third ring give the strip two twists. These
twists in the completed rings (1 nnd 2) will be so much the
less perceptible in proportion as their diameter is greater.

If we take a pair of scissors and cut through the circum-
ference of ring No. 1 in the direction shown by the dotted
lines, we shall obtain two rings, as shown in No. 1'. Pro-
ceeding in the same way with ring No. 2, we shall obtain a
single elongated ring, as shown in No. 2', and with No. 3,
two rings which are connected like the links of a chain, as
shown in No. 3'.

Factors in Life. By H. G. Seeley, F.R.S. (Society for
Promoting Christian Knowledge.) — This work consists of
three lectures upon the important subjects of health, food,
and education. We have no hesitation in sieving that it
is a book that will do good wherever it is read. The
thoughtful will find matter for more thought, and those
who do not habitually think on these essential matters may,
and probably will, find facts so strikingly placed before
them as to impress them to their advantage. The language
is rather above our artisans, but we should like to see it
in their hands. It would make an excellent reader, for
instance, in the higher classes in Board schools, or a capital
little volume for cheap school prizes.

Jfamtal of Zoolo<pj. By H. Alleyne Nicholsox. (Wm.
Blackwood ct Sons.) — This book carries its own credentials
in the imprint " seventh edition " on its title-page. But it
is an edition which, keeping in step with the quick march
of biological science, has been re-cast and re-written, so that
it claims to be regarded as essentially a new work, and in
comparing it with its immediate predecessors we find this
claim warranted. The author's leanings to some funda-
mental ditference between the inorganic and the organic are
still apparent; but his treatmentof the question is eminently
fair, and his observations on the vulnerable part of the
theory of natural selection have a force which Darwin him-
self never underrated, and which gives Professor Nicholson
occasion to refer to Mr. Piomanes's moribund theory of
physiological selection. The expose oi the Duke of Argyll's
Ijaseless charge of stijip.-essio vei'i against biologists in the
matter of Mr. Murray's revision of Darwin's theory of the
formation of coral reefs, which Professor Huxley gives in
the November numbi-r of the yineteftdh Cextvri/, has
further illustration in Professor Nicholson's reference. We
observe that, in accordance with the best authorities, the
author removes the sponges from the lowest sub-kingdom
and promotes them to a sub-kingdom between the Protozoa
and Cielenterata, called the Porifera. We hope that the
sponges duly appreciate this recognition of their nearer
kinship with man. Altogether, the volume is to be
accorded high r.nik as a complete and accurate, yet, having
regard to its subject, not unwield}', text-book. It is pro-
fusely illustrated with excellent woodcuts.

Sketch of Geological IHstory. By Edward Hull, F.R S.
(C. W. Deacon it Co.) — The Director-General of the
Geological Survey of Ireland follows illustrious examples in
prepaiing this abstract of a science which he has at his
fingers' ends. But, except as rounding ofl' the series of
historical manuals which the same publishers have issued,
we fail to see the general object of the book. It is an
attempt to compress a vast subject into an absurdly small
space, with the result that the book reads like an enlarged
index, which may be found useful to readers intending to
pursue the subject farther. Dr. Hull has certainly no

breath of genius in his style, whereby these dry bones might
live, while, as in no wise strengthening his authority, he
inclines to some modified theory of special creations, which
may partly account for his reference to the appearance of
marsupials as " born out of due time." The truer explana-
tion seems to be that these highly organised forms existed
at far more remote epochs than their earliest-known remains
indicate.

The Tshi-speakitir/ Peoples of the Gold Coast. By Major
A. B. Ellis. (Chapman <fe Hall.) — The whole of the forest
tract lying between the Assini and Yolta rivers on the Gold
Coast is inhabited by negro tribes speaking dialects of one
language, called the Tshi (pronounced Tchwi). The enfeebling
climate is largely responsible for their generally low condi-
tion, sufficing evidence of its deadening effect on both mind
and body being cited by Major Ellis in the relapse of the
inhabitants of Liberia, who are the descendants of freed
American negroes, into barbarism. But although the tribes
whose btliefs and customs are vividly and skilfully described
have, except where in contact with the European settlers on
the coast, and then only slightly, not been aflected by foreign
intercourse, their social organisations show them to be far
above the savage level. It is in their customs, made tyran-
nically binding by connections with duties to the several
orders of gods — tribal, local, family, and individual or
tutelar)- — and in their crude idais of death as unnatural,
of the reality of dreams, of the ascription of life to every
moving thing, and so forth, that the proofs of their unpro-
gressiveness are found, and it is the details concerning these
which make Major Ellis's book one of great value to the
anthropologist, while it abounds in interesting matter for
the non-specialist. Although the author explains totemism
on Mr. Herbert Spencer's theory that an ancestor was once
called by the name of an animal or plant, and that in the
course of time his descendants, ignorant of the origin of a
name, came to believe that he was descended from one or
the other, and therefore abstained fiom them as food ; and
although he appears to accept ]\Ir. Max Miiller's explana-
tions of fetichism as the corruption of a primitive faculty
whereby man apprehends God, we find his information
valuable and trustworthy, because he sees the difiiculty of
getting at facts free from the distorting media, fond delu-
sions, and preconceptions of many travellers. It is a great
gain to have such a hook from so acute and dispassionate an
observer as M.ijor Ellis, and we hope that the reception
which will be accorded to it may stimulate him to continue
this important work of adding to our stock of knowledge
concerning the ideas and practices of races whose extinction
is only a question of time.

Aniiiuils from the Life. By Heinrich Leutemann.
Edited by Arabella B. Buckley. (Edward Stanford.)—
We must accord this charming and delightful book the first
place .among worthy gifts for our young folk this season.
Miss Buckley has adapted the German origin.al — -the dis-
tinctive and careful feature of which is in its actual studies
from the life — to the requirements of English children, for
whom she describes, in her own accurate and e.asy st3de, the
animals grouped on each plate. They are given in descend-
ing scale, from man to sponge, and dull must the child be
in whom these beautifully-coloured pictures do not awaken
interest in all that lives.

From a Garret. By May Kendall. (Longmans.) — "That
Very Mab " gave ample proof of Miss Kendall's cultivated
intellectual gifts, and " that very " clever book led us to
expect some le-'s fugitive work from her brilliant, and often
caustic, pen than the present collection of studies. The
device of a prologue, which ]iurports to edit somebody else's
manuscript, is a trifle stale, and neither awakens nor
enhances interest in charactere that play a more or less real

January 2, 1888.]

♦ KNO\ArLEDGE ♦

09

part in these slight sketches. Most vivid among these are
the tramcar man, who could only get time to be married
before the registrar while the horses were being changed ;
most touching the story of Sally, the lodging-house slavey.
Some of the others, as the chemist and the bumptious
mathematical girl, are but lay figures upon which the
remnants of barren controversies are hung. No one who
begins the book will lay it down until the epilogue is
reached ; but Miss Kendall should .send out no more scouts
and stragglers, and prove herself as capable as we believe
her to be of a sustained and serious eftbrt.

We say this the more emphatiailly after reading her
dainty little volume of poems, Dreams to Sell (same pub-
lishers), which her fi'iend "A. L." introduces in charming
stanzas as songs that " plea,se him well." The)' are worthy
of the praise of so accomplished a critic and poet ; delightful
is the echo of Matthew Arnold's " Forsaken Jlerman,"
which " The Mermaid's Chapel " awakens ; and the " Ballad
of the Cadger " will be welcome to the lovers of Austin
Dobson's " Child Musician." But Miss Kendall must get
her evolutionary lays revised by experts, who will correct
her removal of Trilobites from the Crustacea to the Arach-
nida, and of the Monotremes from pond and marshy burrows
to the " silent sea."

Ileali/i Maps. Hy AxxA T. Arxdi. (Swan Sonnen-
schein.) — This work is issued in five neat and portable
parts or "groups," each being prefaced with a clear and
crisp introduction, and filled with a distinct set of exer-
cises adapted to stimulate and strengthen a given set of
muscles. Each exercise is illustrated by a diagram, a
description of the particular movement, and a note specify-
ing in which muscles of the bod)- the movements should be
felt. The " groups " form a complete manual of instruction
by which even unskilled teachers may quickly train them-
selves to give many of the lessons.

Equally worthy of commendation as well adapted for its
purpose, is T/te Teacher's Manual of Brill, by Mary E.
Hudson (Griffith, Farran, A- Co.). The practical directions
ai-e given with admirable simplicity, and so varied as to
cause the minimum of fatigue to children.

Handy Volume Atlas of the British Empire. (Geo. Philip
&.Son.) — This neat and compact little book is a companion
volume to the publishers' " Handy Volume Atlas of the
World." In the space of G by 3 inches there are packed
120 maps and plans of exquisite clearness, supplemented by
an index of 10,000 place names, and interleaved with
geographical and historical notes. It is a marvel of excel-
lence in rare combination with cheapness, for the published
price is only 3s. fid.

Posthiimoiis Uumanity. By Adolphe d'Assier. Trans-
lated and Annotated by Henry S.Olcott. (London : George
Redway. 1887.) — There is something particularly sad in
the history of this collection of hopeless trash. Blind and
partly paralysed, its unfortunate author has listened to and
gravely recorded as fact a series of the veriest " cock and
bull " stories it was ever our misfortune to be compelled to
wade through. His book is a mere rechauffe of .second,
third, fourth, and so on to wth, hand legends, many of them
mediasval, and the vast majority, in popular parlance,
" as old as the hills." Haunted houses, witchcraft, wehr-
wolves, lycanthropy, vampires, and so on, and so forth, are
all accepted by poor M. d'Assier as being as undeniable as
sun-rise. If these lines wei-e ever likely to be read to him in
the only language whichhe apparently understands, we would
urge him to read the account of the " Stockwell Ghost," in
vol. i. of Hone's " Everyday Book," whence he would learn
how missiles were thrown, cups, plates, and saucers dashed
about, a pail of water .set boiling, kc, in broad day-

light in the presence of scores of people, and how the
maid- servant, Ann Robinson, subsequently confessed in
detail how she herself performed every one of these miracles.
He might, perchance, detect the intimate resemblance of the
Stockwell phenomena to those which he himself narrates.
Colonel Olcott's notes are beneath contempt. Two illustra-
tions of this must suffice. On page xv. of the Introduction
he quotes Professor Hare as having verified " the reality of
mediumistic phenomena," studiously suppressing the "fact
that Sir. Hare was insane — in fact, died in a lunatic asylum.
Again, on page 180, he speaks of Mr. Crooke photograph-
ing materialised spirits " by the electric light in his own
laboratory," as studiously concealing the fact that the
" spirit " thus photographed was Miss Florrie Cook, subse-
quently detected, flujrante delicto, and exposed, by Sir
George Sitwell and Herr von Buch. Sometimes, though, the
author is too credulous even for Mr. Olcott, vide footnotes
on pages 121, 197, (tc. A more piteous literary exhibition
than the entire volume has rarely come under our notice.
There is not one scrap or atom of evidence in it on which any
magi.strate would dare to send the veriest tramp to gaol for
a week's hard labour.

Clavirhouse. By Mowbray Morris. (London : Lon"-
mans, Green, t Co. 1887.)— Here is another attempt to
rehabilitate a man to whom history — or rather, perhaps,
tradition — has not been too kind ; and, as it seems to us,
in this case considerable success has attended the efibrts of
his latest biographer. Whatever virtues the Covenanters
may have possessed, truthfulness in connection with those
opposed to them was very far indeed from being one of the
most conspicuous ; and hence the legends of Claverhouse's
ferocity which appear in the pages of chroniclei'S like
Wodrow must be taken with a very large gi-ain of sdt
indeed. It must be carefully borne in mind that " Bonnie
Dundee" lived in an age which was essentially rough and
brutal, when the refinements of modern warfare were
unheard and undreamt of, and when, for example, anythinc
like a joint undertaking on the part of nations to limit the
size or description of their service projectiles would have
been .scouted as the wildest nonsense. When, then, Claver-
house was sent out to suppress what amounted to an open
rebellion against his sovereign, he employed the- tactics of
his day, which were no more of the rose-water school than
those of the insurgents themselves. That, however, he was
the malignant, bloodthirsty scourge which the old Cove-
nanters represented him to be, Mr. Mowbraj' Morris has
clearly disproved in the very interesting and readable
volume before us.

The Ambulanci Pupil. By A Pupil of the St. Joii.v
Ambulance Association. (London : Crosby Lockwood ik
Co. 1887.) — This tiny pocket volume should b3 in the
possession of everyone who is ever likely to be present at an
accident, either to himself in person or to others ; as the
simple directions may, if followed out, be the means of
saving many a precious life.

Specific i'lthelief: Enr/land's Greatest Sin. By Andrew
Simon Lamb. (London: James Nisbet A- Co. 1887.) — It
is much to be desired that Mr. Lamb should read, mark,
learn, and inwardly digest the whole of the third part of
" The Problem of Evil," by Daniel Greenleaf Thomp.son. He
simply reiterates what may be heard next Sunday in any
" Little Bethel " in the kingdom, being obviously an
'• Evangelical " of the narrowest type. We should be curious
to know how he would attempt to connect the deaths of the
flint-folk, who lived and died 20, 50, or even 100,000 years
ago, in their caves, with the transgi-e.'^sion of the " first man,"
Adam. Had Mr. Chadband been rather better educated, he
mieht well have written this little book.

* KNO^A?'LEDGE ♦

[January 2, 188?.

VENUS AS A JIOEXING STAR.
It seems impossible to imagine tlmt the numerous correspondents
who have descended upon us with a flood of more or less nonsensical
questions about " The Star of Bethlehem " can ever look at the
column headed " The Face of the Skjv' which appears in every
monthly part of this magazine. Eefercnce to that column for
November and December will show that its writer specifically
speaks of Venus as " a brilliant object to the south of east about
3 a.m.," and as "a most brilliant and conspicuous object in the
south-east before sunrise " ; but, ignoring this, a number of persons
who are, or profess to be, readers of Knowledge, have inundated
us with queries as to whether a new variable or periodical star has
become visible ? whether the Star of Bethleliem has reappeared ?
whether it is the one that appeared to the Wise IMcn?— (in
which category this particular querist as modestly as properly omits
to inchide himself ) — whether the original apparition (Matthew ii. 2,
9, and 10) was miraculous or not ? and so on. Once for all, then,
the star which has recently shone so gloriously in the morning sky
is Venus, and nothing else in the world. She goes round the sun
inside of the earth's orbit in about 224| days, and if the earth
were stationary would, at the end of that period, come approximately
into the same position in our (then) fixed sky. But, as every
one knows, the earth herself revolves round the sun in some-
thing like 3C.")i days, and hence Venus does not return to the
fame phase until after a lapse of 584 days— i e. in one year,
seven months, and about a week. Hence it will be seen that what
we have been viewing is simply a recurrence of what happened
during the early mornings in December 1S85 and January 1886.
Venus is now travelling away from the eartli, and on July 11 will
be behind the sun. Pursuing her path, she will emerge from his
rays and reappear to the east of him, after which she will become
an evening star, and in February and ILirch 1889 will be as striking
an object after sun.set as she recently has been before sunrise.
About Ladj' Day in that year she will be distinctly visible to the
naked eye (of any one who knows precisely where to look for her)
in bright sunsliine. The Star of Bethlehem of Matthew's gospel —
if it ever really existed and is not the mere embodiment of a
m)th— must in all probability have been a comet.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR JANUARY 1888.

HE sun presents but few features of interest for ob-
servers under existing circumstance?, although one
fine group of spots appeared last month upon his
disc. The night sky is delineated on map i. of
" The Stars in their Seasons." Minima of Algol
(" The Stars in their Seasons," map xii.) will occur
on Jan. 3 at 6h. 55m. P.M. ; on the 20th, at lib.
48m. P.M. ; on the 23rd, at 8h. 37m. P.M. ; and on
the 26th, at 5h. 26m. P.M., as well as on other
occasioDs inconvenient to the amateur observer. Jlercury is a
morning star up to the 14th, but subsequently souths after the
sun. His great south declination, however, renders liim practically
invisible throughout the month. Venus is a morning star through-
out January, and is very nearly as badly jjlaced for the observer as
Mercury. JIars does not rise until after midnight at the beginning
of the year, and a little before llh. 30m. P.M. bj' January 31. More-
over, he only looks like a large red star, and detail on his surface is
quite beyond the power of ordinary telescopes. Jupiter is a morn-
ing star, and very badly placed to boot. In fact, Saturn is now tlie
only striking object in the night sky. Starting from a point almost
on a line joining 7 and 0 Cancri (" The Stars in their Seasons,"
map iii.), he will travel in a westerly and northerly direction.
The closing up of his ring sjstem since his opposition in 1885-86
is now very perceptible. Titan, his brightest satellite, will be at its
greatest elongation east of him (between 11 and 12 diameters of the
planet) at 3h. A.M. on Jan. 12 ; and at midnight on the 27th. Uranus
is, for our present purpose, invisible, and Neptune is very much
where we left him last month. The moon enters her last quarter at
llh. 42'6m. A.M. on the 6th, is new at 8h. SSTm. on the morning of
the 13th, enters her lirst quarter at 4h. 49 3m. A.M. on the 21st, and
is full at llh. 18-9m. on the night of the 2Sth. There will be a total
eclip.se of the moon on this night (that of the 28th), visible in this
country, the leading details of which we subjoin in a tabular form : —

H. jr.
First contact with the penumbra
First contact with the shadow
Beginning of total phase
Jliddle of the eclipse
End of total phase.
Last contact with the shadow
Last contact with the penumbra

8 29-0 P M.

9 30-5 „

10 31-1 „

11 201 „

12 91 „

Greenwich mean
time.

1 9-7 A.M.

2 11-2 „ /

If we call the moon's diameter 1, she liViU be immersed 1643 of tlidt
diameter in the earth's shadow at the time of the middle of the
eclipse. Measuring from the northernmost point of the moon's
limb towards the east, the lirst contact with the shadow will take place
93° fromsuch northpoiut,andthe last contact at 74°towards the west.
This is as s;en with the naked eye, not as viewed in an inverting tele-
scope. Only three occultations of fixed stars by the moon will happen
this month at all at convenient hours. The first happens on the 25th,
when x' Orionis, a star of the 61 h magnitude, will disappear at the
moon's dark limb, at 36 minutes after midnight, at an angle from
her vertex of 178°, reappearing at ih. 20m. the next morning at a
vertical angle of 258°. Then, on the 2!lth, 7 Leonis, a 6^ magnitude
star, will disappear at the moon's bright limb, at 5h. 41m. P.M., at
an angle of 332° from her vertex, and reappear at her dark limb at
5h. 55m. P.M. at an angle from her vertex of 298°. And, lastly, on
the same evening ;}/ Leonis, of the 6th magnitude, will disappear at
the bright limb of the moon, at 9h. 13m., at a vertical angle of 320°,
reappearing at her dark limb, at 9h. 24m. P.M., at an angle of 300°
from her vertex. These last two reappearances will happen very
near to the illuminated part of the moon. The beginning of the
new year finds the moon in Cancer, which, at oh. A.M. on January 22,
she quits for Leo ("The Sea.sons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She is
travelling through Leo until 7h. P.M. on the 4th, at which hour she
enters Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). Her journey
through Virgo occupies her until 9h. 30m. P.M. on the 7th, and she
then crosses the boundary into Libra (" The Seasons Pictured," plate
xxvi.). As she travels over Libra, she arrives, at 2h. 30m. P.M. on
the 9th, at the western edge of the narrow northern spike of Scorpio,
and when 9 hours later she has traversed this, it is to emerge in
Ophiuchus. At 1 P.M. on the 11th she leaves Ophiuchus and enters
Sagittarius. Here she continues until 7h. 30m. P.M. on the 13th,
then quitting Sagittarius for Capricornus ("The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxi.). Her passage through Capricornus is completed at
7h. P.M. on the 15th, and she then passes into Aquarius. Here she
remains until lOh. p.m. on the 17th, passing at that hour into Pisces
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). Journeying through Pisces,
she, at6h. P.M. on the 18th, arrives on the confines of Cetus, into
which she plunges. From this she emerges at Ih. A.M. on the 20th,
and re-enters Pisces ; only, however, to pass for a second time into
Cetus at 2h. A.M. on the 21st : when at 8 o'clock that night she
finally leaves Cetus it is to pass into Aries (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxiii.). She is travelling through Aries until
9h. P.M. on the 22nd, when .she enters Taurus. In the course of her
passage over Taurus she comes at 6h. 30m. P.M. on the 25th to the
western edge of the most northern prolongation of Orion. This it
takes her eleven hours and a half to cross, and when at 6 o'clock the
next morning she has traversed it, she emerges in Gemini (" The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She leaves Gemini for Cancer at;
Ih. A.M. on the 28th, and Cancer, in turn for Leo, at Ih. P.M. on the
29th. She is still in Leo at midnight on the 31st.

A Quick Calculator. — Reuben Fields, a most extraordinary
individual, has returned to his home in Kentucky, after an ab-
sence of some years in the West. Fields is known far and wide
as the " Mathematical Prodigy," and, indeed, he is a wonderful
creature. Perfectly illiterate, not being able to tell one letter or
figure from another, he bears the same relation to the science of
mathematics that Blind Tom does to music. Fields is now about
twenty-eight years of age, and his ability to quickly and correctly
solve the most difficult problems was discovered when he was eight
years old. That faculty continued to develop until he is able to
solve, with amazing rapidity, any problem in simple or compound
fractions, or anything in the higher branches of mathematics. For
in.stance, the moon is a certain number of miles from the earth ; a
grain of corn is so long ; how many grains will it take to connect
the points ? The answer to this or any other problem comes like a
flash. He can also tell to a second the time of day or night I This
marvellous man has been tested by the most expert mathematicians,
and his answers to problems have been found to be invariably
correct. He claims that his power is a direct gift from the Creator,
and liable to be taken away from him if not properly used. The
possessor of this gift never went to school a day in his life, and
never did a d.ay's work, except to occasionallj- aid merchants in
invoicing their goods, and in this business he has been known to
keep a score or more of clerks busy footing up columns of figures.
He is a very large man, and has a look the reverse of intelligent.
Having no occupation, he lives among his acquaintances, putting
up wherever night overtakes him. He is very proud of his gift, and
frequently compares himself to Samson. Fields gave an exhibition
of his powers before Governor Crittenden and other distinguished
men of Missouri on a late visit West, and they gonsider him one of
■ the greatest wonders of the century.

Januahy 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

71

(But Wl\)i0t Columiu

By "Five of Clubs."

THE DOG AXD THE SHADOW.

If you will not when you may.

When you will you shall have nay. — Old Proverb.

WAS a looker-on, a few months ago (down in Florida),
at a game of whist which illustrated charmingly the
folly of the two commonest mistakes of the unscien-
tific whist-player — (1) the idea that the fall of two
trumps for one is bad for those who played them,
where one of these has held a considerable strength ;
and (2) the notion that a ruff is always a gain for
the ruifer.

1 had been told to watch the play of an old gentleman whom we
will call A (his partner being B) ; but I quickly found that his oppo-
nent on the left (Y), a comparatively young man, and a stranger to
the rest of the company, was a much better player ; while Z, the
fourth player, though weak so far as original play was concerned,
had none of that fatal cleverness which injures the game of those
who trust wholly in their own ideas and will learn nothing from the
stored experience of tens of thousands of players and a century
and a half of play.

In the particular game which interested me most among those I
watched, A had a long suit of diamonds, which he was lucky in
seeing established in two rounds, leaving him four long diamonds,
all small but all (as he perfectly weU knew) as good as trumps
(hearts) when trumps should be out. At the first opportunity A
ver}- properly led trumps (having four, headed by the king), and
after three rounds, Z having had but one trump, A remained with
king of trumps, B holding the queen, and Y a small one, obviously
to all the table. Also, A held a small club, a suit of which his
partner was void.

At this stage A had a choice between two good lines of play.
His plainest course was to draw out the remaining trumps and
make the four small diamonds ; five tricks off the reel — which, with
three made before, would give A-B two by tricks. The best course,
however, was to force Y with a diamond, when, if Y yielded to the
force, A could make his king trump by ruffing, then his three small
diamonds, and finally give B a ruff, who might, as far as A could
tell, be then able to make the last trick, in whicii case A-B would
make three by tricks ; and in any case A-B could not make fewer
than two by tricks on this line as on the other. So that this was
the correct play, though as the cards lay nothing would have been
gained by it.

But the first of these courses was most objectionable to A, because
it involved the fall of two tramps, and the two best trumps at that,
for one of the enemy's. This was contrary to A's ideas of sound
whist plaj", and his every word and gesture showed that he held
himself the soundest player there. The other course was not less
objectionable to him, for it would enable Y to make his little trump
by ruffing one of A's winning diamonds.

Manifestly, A considered the proper thing to play for was to let
B make his trump separately, then to capture Y"'s, make the long
diamonds, and so secure three by cards. It did not occur to him
that this, though a very proper thing to be done, if it could be done,
was not at all the right thing to play for if it could not possibly be
managed. If B were thus given the opportunity of making his
trump queen, he could not possibly give A a lead whereby to extract
Y's small trump. The only lead he could give A would be by forcing
him, when 1' would remain with the last trump and winning
cards (as it happened) in clubs and spades, not one of A's esta-
blished diamonds being of the le.ast use to him. Thus two more
tricks only would be made instead of five, and A-B would lose the
odd trick instead of making two or three by tricks.

As a matter of fact, B did not ruff the card A had led to him for
the purpose. Whether he had some half-formed notion that the
only chance now left for A to get in his diamonds lay in B's passing
this trick, on the chance that Y, who had taken it (bar the ruff),
would lead a trump to draw two for one, w.is not clear. My notion
is that B simply dechned to ruff Y"'s winning club, a ten only,
because he thought the queen of trumps too good a card to be used
for that purpose, for most of B's play had been unutterably weak.
Be this as it may, B passed the trick. Y immediately began to lead
out winning spades, forcing A (for B had plenty of the suit). Then
A, having nothing better to do, led a diamond, Y ruffed, B over-
ruffed ; and B having only spades to lead to Y"s strength in the suit,
Y made all the remaining tricks. Thus Y'-Z made on this line the
odd trick, as they would had B ruffed at the outset. This sequel
strengthens the illustration which the game afforded of the folly of
the doctrine that it must b§ good to draw two trumps from the

enemy for one, and bad to draw two trumps from your own side for
one from the enemy. For had Y played this game A would have made
all his long diamonds, and A-B would have made two by tricks.

A immediately explained to B what his object had been, adding,
" How unfortunately it turned out ! " He should have said, " How
ill I played ! " Y simply scored the odd trick and smiled. He
evidently felt it was no part of his business to teach his opponents
better play.

DOUBLE DUMMY PLAY AND A DOUBLE DUM.MY
PROBLEM.

It has been said by Mr. F. H. Lewis, one of the finest whist-
players living, and beyond all doubt the most skilful composer of
double dummy problems, that double dummy is the grammar of
whist. Players who doubt the value of accuracy in whist conversa-
tion should play double dummy awhile. It will give them entirely
new ideas. . Skill tells more in this game than in any form of
whist, especially when played, as it certainly should be, without
counting honours. (To my mind there is something absurd in
counting honours, which depend solely on chance, at this purely
scientific game.) In the long run, the best player invariably wins
at double dummy ; and in my own experience I have found that
where there is any marked disparity of skill, every sitting of an hour
or so leaves the better player ahead, the cards never running so
strongly to one side as to let the weaker gain the majority of points.
In my lecturing tour in the South in the season 18S5-G, I lightened
many hours of railway travelling by double dummy play with a
friend (and relative) who travelled with me. He had had less
practice in whist play than I, and had studied the language of the
game much less (which is a very different matter, by the way).
Now, though the cards would often run so heavily against me that
I would lose ten or twelve points in the course of half an hour or
so, every sitting ended by placing mo further ahead, and when our
travels ended 1 was I'Jl points to the good (we were "playing for
love ■'). In actual whist this would not happen. It was easy to see
how the effect of correct play came in. With good cards success
was more complete ; with bad cards failure was less disastrous.
Five times I scored every trick (being twice able to announce from
the beginning that this would be the result), and many times
against apparently overwhelming hands I lost only the odd trick, or
even made the trick. All this shjws what may be done by the
proper conduct of the game ; and play, by which inferences as to
the position of various cards may be early formed, enables watchful
partners to do to some degree what the double dummy player can
effect.

Next to actual double dummy play in value as whist practice
comes the study of double dummy problems. Here is a problem by
Mr. Lewis (it is taken from the " Westminster Papers," I need hardly
say), which will be found worth careful study. It is not difficult —
atleast for those who have had practice in double dummy plaj-.
Solvers should keep their solution for comparison with the analysis,
which will shortly appear, as it is impossible for me, living as I do in
Florida, to examine the various solutions : —

THE HANDS.
„ /H. (trumj>g).—A, Kii, S, 6, 5. C— A, K, Kn, 4.1

1.S.-2.

10, i.

'H. (?/«).— (J

S.-Q.

C— Q, 10, 6, .5.
LD.— Q, 0, 8, 7, 5.

B

Y

Z

Tr. Hearts

A leads.

D.— A, 6, 4.

H. (tpg).—K, 7,
S — K, 10, 0, 8,
C— !). S, 7, 2. (

D.— Kn. J

?:L

. /H. (trumps).— i\, 3.
"* IS.— A, Kn, 6, 5, 4, 3.

Q 3_ ")

D.— K, 10, 3, 2. J

Hearts are trumps. A leads. How many tricks can A-B make
against the best defence ?

Loose model bcildisg stoxes, manufactured by Eichter &
Co., and issued with books of instruction, showing how model arches,
bridges, vaultwork, mosaic floors, and miniature houses can be con-
structed by very young people, m.ay certainly be considered in the
light of scientific toys of high order, and following, as they do, the
form of ordinary bricks with decimal exactness, they afford oppor-
tunities of instruction to youthful minds in architecture and practical
building. The fact of their being coloured tends to artistic training
also. These stones or bricks can be advantageously adopted by the
architect or builder for experimental purposes. We can, therefore,
confidently recommend them to students of building and architec-
ture, who would undoubtedly derive valuable assistance from them.

72

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 2, 1888.

(But C6e£«£{ Column*

By " Mbphisto."

THE TOURNAMENr OF THE B.C.A.
EXDINGS FROM ACTUAL PLAY.

BLACK.

m Mm ^ mm wm

■ *■. II II

^^^^^gC|HI8 is a curious example ot a block. Everytliing
I iimii •iiwivi gggjjjg jg (^ g Bqual, but in reality White's pieces
are all doomed to inactivity. Black forces a win
tjcrvr\ wr-:^- ^y pl^y'ig Kt to Kt6 at the right time, thereby
\ 'jfcj/ V^S ■" compelling the exchange of Rooks, obtaining
WA^l -'irrtih possession ot the Bishop's file, and playing R to
B7. White may vary his play, but he is unable
to save the game.

1. R to B3.

What White actually did was to move his King backwards and
forwards. Any other move would have likewise resultoil as indi-
cated above, for instance — 2. Q to Q7, Kt to Kt6. (This is also the
reply to R to B2.) 3. R x R, Q x R. 4. Q to Kt4 (to avoid Q to B7,
and to obtain a perpetual check). 4. Q to B4. 5. K to B2,

Q X Q. 6. P X Q, R to B7.
K to R7, and Black will win.

2. K to Kt sq.

3. K to Kt2

4. K to Kt sq.

K to K sq., R to K7. 8. Kt to B sq ,

2. R(Bsq.) to B2

3. Q to Bsq.

4. K to Q2.
Intended to meet a possible incursion of the Queen into Black's
game.

5. R to B2 .5. Kt to Kt6

Of course Black would not at any time permit Kt to B sq.

6. RxR 6. RxR

7. Q to K sq 7. R to B7
and Black wins.

Bla.ce.

■l.^_„.._B M

■^'

AS"

WHrpB.
This is also a most singular position. Every one of Black's
pieces has been withdrawn home, but all of them, although
apparently awkwardly placed like the Queen and Knight, take part in
the attack, and are ready to act, while, on the other hand. White,
who seems to have the better development, is rather helpless, the
White Queen being unable to move. A speedy termination in favour
of Black seems somewhat surprising.

Black proceeded as follows : — 1. B to Q2

(threatening B to K sq).

2P to Kto 2. R to B2

A subtle move. If P x P, then P to Kt3 wins the Queen, or if
P to Kt6, then R to B4 likewise wins the Queen.

3. K to R2

In the vain hope of being able to play R to Kt sq, Q to R4 was

better.

9.

Kt x P
K to R sq
BxB
Q to R4
Q to B4
K to Kt sq

3.

PxP

4.

P to K.5 (ch)

.■).

BxKt

6.

P to Kt3

7.

RtoR2

S.

BxP

'J.

B to Kt7

Resigns.

White lost time on his third and fifth move, but Black will maintain
a winning attack against best play.

Black.

rt^#i'

t s t M t
k _ t'

Wliite played.

1. Rto K4

2. R X B !

3. P to Kto

4. R to KKt sq

5. Q to R7 (ch)
Q to R5 (ch)
PxP
R to Kto I
BxP
R to KtG

Q to Q3
KtP x R
K to B2
K to Q2
K to K sq
R toB2
QxBP
K to K2
Q to QKt3
Resigns.

GAME PLAYED IN THE TOURNAMENT OF THE

BRITISH CHESS ASSOCIATION.

(Centre Gambit.)

White.

Black.

White.

Black.

J. Gnnsberg.

.1. Mortimer.

J. (rUDsbersr.

.T, Mori.iiiier.

1.

PtoK4

P to K4

13.

Kt to Kt5 (c)

P to Kt3

2.

P to Q4

PxP

14.

QKt to K4

P to B4 {d)

3.

QxP

QKt to B3

15.

P to Kt4

P X Kt (c)

4.

Q to B4 (rt)

Kt to B3

IG.

PxKt

QPxP

5.

Kt to QB3

B to Kto

17.

RPxP

RPxP

6.

B toQ2

P to Q3

18.

BxB

KtxB

7.

Castles QR

P to QR3

19.

QxKP(/)

Kt X P (ch)

8.

Pto B4

Castles

20.

K to Kt sq

B to Bl ?

0.

Kt to B3

BtoQ2

21.

RxQ

BxQ

10.

P to KR3

P to QKtl

22.

RxR (ch)

RxK

11.

Q to K2

R to K sq

23.

KtxB

Kt to Kt5

12.

P to K.5

Kt to KR4(/0

2i.

Kt to BG (ch)

and wins.

Notes.

(a) Having played the Queen, it is not very material where she
goes to. On B4 the Q escapes attack more readily than on K3 —
at least for the present.

(J) .A teirpting move, but, as will be seen, it leads Black into
complications.

(fi) Preventing Black from playing Kt to KtG, as then White
would reply with Q to Q3, threatening mate.

(rf) P to Q4 would have been better.

((i) Kt X BP should have been played.

(/) The game cannot be saved now. Q to K2 is useless.

Contents of No. 26.

page

Shiikcppeare's Industry 25

Evolnt'on of Language. By Ada S.

Balliu 26

.\mericanism3 28

Use and Beauty in JIatliematics . . 30

A merican UDion and Irish Disunion 31

The One-Seale Atlas 32

The Southern Skies SI

L^ there anv Science in W hist ? . . . . 34

Watched by the Dead 35

PAOK

A Study of C aildhood 39

Movements in the Star Depths .... 41

(gossip 42

Reviews 43

The Face of the Sky for December.

By F.R..\..8 45

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 40

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

phisto" 47

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Suhscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s, d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada. United States
and BgTpt, the Sntsoription is 7s. 6d., aa heretofore.

February 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^A^^LEDGE ♦

16

^ ILLUSTRATED ^mCAZINE "^
|SCIENCE,L!TERATUR£,& Mfl

LONDON: FEBRUARY 1, 1888.

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

F there is one feature of popular converge about
astronomy which inrlicates more clearly than
another the generally-prevalent ignorance of
science, it is the absurd nonsense now so often
heard respecting what is called " the Star of
Bethlehem." I suppose that at least 2,000
letters must have been addressed to me with
inquiries about this non-existent orb. Again and again I
am gravely told that the Star of Bethlehem has already
appeared, its place of appearance being at one time York-
shire or Devonshire, in England, at another Algiers or Con-
stantinople or Tobolsk, at another a village in Kentuck}',
at another in Buenos Ayres or Rio Janeiro.

There are certain times when the Star of Bethlehem is
sure to )je discovered somewhere or other. One of these
brought with it " Professor " Klein's discovery in Kentucky
last summer ; another was distinguished by the discovery
of the erratic star by a young lady in Texas last November.
Luckily, a j-ear and a quarter must elapse before the same
Star of Bethlehem is likely to be discovered — somewhere
about March 25, 1889 ; then again after a few months, on
or about June (3, we are likely to hear that some village
professor or some young girl or some sky-contemplating local
lunatic has seen the Star of Bethlehem : after which it will
not be till the end of October, 1890, that the mystic orb will
be noticed.

Napoleon Bonaparte was one of the discoverers of the
Star of Bethlehem ; but he made a better use of it than the
young lady in Texas or the " professor " of Kentucky. He
pointed to it as it shone ftuntly in the heavens by day, and,
instead of displaying ignorance, he took advantage of the
ignoi-ance of his officers, saying, " That is my star I " prob-
ably knowing quite well that the orb at which he pointed
was Venus, a world nearly as large as that for a small por-
tion of whose surfiice he had stained that surface with the
blood of myriads of men.

For all the announced apparitions of the Star of Beth-
lehem the Planet of Love has been responsible. She always
can be seen in full daylight for a few days at the time of
her greatest brilliancy. And, although it is nowhere stated
in the Gospel record that the Star of Bethlehem was visible
in the daytime, it seems somehow to be taken for granted
that it did present and will again present this exceptional
peculiarity. Yet, by the singular perversity of ignorance,
the very persons who look for the Star of Bethlehem by day,
proclaim their belief that it is the star which is called
Tycho Brahe's — a star which shone out in 1572 in the con-
stellation Cassiopeia, and which could be seen all through
the night all the 3-ear round in all the countries and places
whence people imagine they have seen the mystic orb. Tycho
Brahe's star, the situation of which is perfectly well known,
even if the very star has not (as is probable) been identified

with a catalogued eighth-magnitude star (shown in my large
northern chart of 324,198 stai-s), does not pass below the
horizon of any place in higher latitude than 2Gi deg. north.
Whenever that star changes in brightness even by a single
magnitude, astronomers will know of the change and may
be trusted to .attend to it ; though not one among their
number imagines for a moment that there is the remotest
connection between that distant sun, probably at least a
hundred years' light-journey from us, and the Star of
Bethlehem.

The story of Tycho Brahe's star has been so often told,
that I shall here say little on the subject, directing the
reader's attention rather to the real story of t'ae Star of the
Nativity, as related by one who was probably not Matthew,
since the Ebionites who accepted Matthew's as the only
trustworthy Gospel rejected the story of the Nativity as a
later addition, dating probably from about the year 110.

The history of Tycho Brahe's star diilers in no important
details from that of the equally brilliant temporary star
known as Kepler's. It blazed out suddenly close by the
star Kappa of Cassiopeia, the faintest of the four stars
which mark the back of the Seated Lady's Chair. At firet
it was brighter than Venus iit her brightest. This superiority
was not due to the fact that the star was visible at night
(whereas Venus is never .seen on a dark sky), for the new star
could be seen in the daytime. Probably, by-the-bye, it may
be this peculiarity of Tycho Brahe's star which has led to
the notion that whenever Venus is seen in the daytime the
Star of Bethlehem has returned. But it speaks rather ill
for the intelligence and information of the general public
that because a star which has certiiinly nothing whatever to do
with the Star of the Nativity, and which if visible now at all
would show all night, was for a while visible in the day-
time, therefore another orb which is not a st;ir at all, and
which returns periodically to daylight visibility, should be
taken for that orb, although the place of Tycho Brahe's star
shows in the night time no star even of tiie sixth or seventh
magnitude.*

The statement that Tycho Brahe's star has been identified
with two stars which .shone out respectively in the years
945 and 1264 is far from justified by the evidence. Oa
hunting over old records, two were found which very
doubtfully suggested that celestial objects which might have
been stars, but might also have been comets, had been seen
in the years 9-45 and 1264, either of which might have
appeared where Tycho Brahe's star was seen, or, on the
contrary, might have been anywhere within a distance of
10 or 12 degrees from it. Of course, if these were merely
apparitions of Tycho Brahe's star, which I regard as wildly
improbable, then since an interval of 319 years elapsed
between their appearance, and an interval of 308 years only
between the later of the two and Tycho Brahe's star, it is
evident the variable is not regular in its returns. And
since 315 years have already passed since Tycho Brahe's
star was seen, the prospect of a return of the star to visibility
is somewhat doubtful, apart from the more than doubtful
character of the evidence on which the identity of the stars
or orbs of 945, 1264, and 1572 has been based. If, however,
it should happen, as it very well may, that Tj-cho Brahe's
star should blaze out within the next few years, the general

» An attempt was made to save the Texan Star of Bethlehem
from detection as an impostor last October by announcing that
though it had been visible for several days it had vanished, so that
astronomers need not hope to persuade the world that it had not
really appeared. But, unfortunately, that self-same supposed star
was ijlazing out morning after morning as Venus, the Morning Star,
while night after night, all that time, the place of Tycho Brahe's
star was absolutely vacant so far as naked-eye vision was con-
cerned, and occupied only for telescopic vision by an eighth
magnitude star.

o KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Februahy 1, 18S8.

public may rest confidently assured that its apparition will
be in no way connected with the star described in the Gospel

of Matthew.

As to that record itself, it is singular that any doubt
should exist as to its meaning.

That the story relates to an astronomical event is of course
certain. Had some meteorological phenomenon been in
question the narrative would unquestionably have been
otherwise worded. The event was certainly astronomical ;
the magi were certainly astronomers. Saying this is in
eftect saying that the magi were astrologers, and that the
event was chiefly interesting in its astrological aspect.
Farrar and Geikie in their lives of Christ follow all theo-
logians of any weight who have ever dealt with the narrative
of the Nativity in admitting this.

But theologians seem to bs unconscious, one and all, of
the overwhelming difficulty in which this interpretation
lands them. "We find them placidly discussing the wide-
spread belief in astrological ideas and in the supposed
influence of the heavenly bodies ou the aflairs and fortunes
of the human race — not as if they were striving to get rid
of a great difliculty, but as if the discussion were part of
the explanation of the Star of Bethlehem. Not once, so
far as my own reading extends (and this subject has been
one about which I have read much) does any theologian
note that the ideas of astrologers were altogether erroneous,
and that confident faith in such fancies implies a degree of
ignorance, not to say superstition, which however natural in
the beginning of the Christian era, is entirely inconsistent
with the belief that this portion of the first Gospel is
inspired — as theologians understand inspiration.*

But perceiving the absolute impossibilitj' of reconciling
the story of the star of Bethlehem and its manifestly
astrological significance with scientific facts, we are not
merely led but forced to inquire whether some outside
origin of the story may not be found. When we find that
the Ebionites, though naturally disposed to view with
special favour the Gospel of Matthew, rejected the story as
foreign to the genuine narrative, we are encouraged to
believe that decisive evidence on the subject must have
existed in their time, which should bs accessible also to us,
since the Ebionites were not profoundly learned.

In reality the external origin of the tradition (once the
inquiry is suggested) is as obvious as daylight.

The story of the star is told, in every detail, of the birth
of each of the sun-gods — Osiris, Horus, Mithras, Serapis,
and the rest.f But the original myth was not mythical at
all. It belonged simph' to the systematic observances which
appertained to sun-worship as regulated by an astronomical
and astrological priesthood. Each portion of the day deter-
mined by the sun's apparent motions was measured by
a.stronomical observation, from the dayspring of one day to
the dayspring of the next. In like manner each portion of
the year determined by the sun's motion above and below
the equator was measured by astronomical observations
which were in truth religious observances.

* The erroneous ideas implied in this part of the narrative are
not alone. The " exceeding high mountain " from whose summit
" all the kingdoms of the earth and their glory " could be seen is
as consistent with the science of eighteen hundred years ago as the
star which appeared and disappeared and reappeared and linally
travelled before the magi on their seven-mile walk from Jerusalem
!o Bethlehem; but it is entirelj' inconsistent with the geography
as well as with the astronomy of scientific times. And it is hardly
necessary to say that certain passages relating to the end of the
world are written with manifest want of appreciation of the require-
ments of longitude and latitude and of a rotating world nearlv
200,000,000 of square miles in area.

t Doubtless this was part of the evidence on which the Emperor
Hadrian, in the year 137, based his belief that the Christians of his
day wers worshippers of Serapis.

The method of these observations is known, since it
remained in vogue long after actual sun-worship had died
out, and long after more exact methods of measuring the
sun's yearly movements had come into use. Each stage of
the sun's annual course was determined by the heliacal
rising of a certain star, that is, the rising of the star at
such a time that the star was just visible before the
approach of the sun to the horizon obliterated all fainter
lights from view. In variable climes this method would
have no exactness at all. Even in Egypt and Chaldea it
w;is but rough. But in point of fact all the methods
employed by worshippers of the heavenly bodies were
rough : for they were devised when as yet men knew little
of astronomy, and they remained sacred afterwards (as
always happens in such cases), despite their roughness and
simplicity, partly even because of these.

Of all the epochs marking the sun's annual course the
winter solstice, or the time when the sun's gradual descent
below the equator ceases and merges into ascent, was the
most important and critical in ancient times. In the earlier
days of ignorance men must have feared lest the change
would never be brought about, the sun passing away
farther and fivrther south till he disappeared for ever, and
with him all heat and light and life. The recognition of
the fact that their god's southward course had ceased (that
he was standing still, as the word solstice implies) restored
hope to men's hearts, a hope changed to the certainty that
he would return, bringing life back to the world, so soon as
it was announced that he was moving northward from his
staying place.

Later, when the religion of the sun was fairly established,
the heliacal rising of a particular star was the sign for
which the priests of the sun waited before they announced
to the people the birth of the god of the new year. And
therefore, later still, in every myth of the birth of the sun
god we find this observance forming a prominent part of the
story.

We have, in foot, in the story of the Star of Bethlehem,
a simple repetition of what the priests of the sun actually
did. They watched the sun, whose heliacal rising was to
indicate the birth of the year god ; as soon as they had seen
that star in the east, just before the stars vanished with sun-
rise, they proclaimed the good news to the people. The
magi, or astrological priests, watched the star in the east ;
the magi saw the newh'-risen stars obliterated day after day
by the sun of the old year (the slaughter of the innocents) ;
the magi traced the course of the star in the east until, just
at the time of the solstice (December 25, according to the
old system), it came and stood over the place where the sun
god of the new j-ear was to be born, just showing above the
horizon as his first raj's proclaimed hLs approach. Then the
ange's or messengers of the magi announced the birth of the
sun god of the year. And lastly, the magi or high priests
oflered up the people's gifts of myrrh, frankincense, and
gold, all mystically typical of the solar worship — the sun
being, in fact, in the old astrological system, represented by
gold.

Such was unquestionably the manner of announcing the
birth of the sun god by observation of the star- of his
nativity in sun-worshipping days — the details being essen-
tially astronomicitl, or rather astrological. Those who can
regard as accidental the agreement between all these details
and the details of a story which appears onl}' in one Gospel
and \\'as rejected by the ver^- race who accepted that Gospel
alone, must attach very little value to the evidence from
multiplied coincidences.

If the explanation is rejected according to which this
account is mythical and interpolated, then we have to
accept the explanation given by leading theologians, accord-

February 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

75

ing to which the story corresponds with the astrological
notions, admittedly mere superstitions, of those ancient
days. I woulil ask wliether it is more irreverent to main-
tain that a story which is almost certainbj 7ni/thical and
quite certai/ili/ relates to a superstition does not and cannot
belong to the inspired word of God, or to tell the world
that the inspired word of God may present ignorant and
superstitions fancies as if they were truths. INIen some-
times look at me sadly, especially if they are clothed in
sadly cleric garb, when I reverently proclaim the former
belief. They probably do not know how regretfully those
of reverent mind contemplate their placid acceptance of the
latter, a belief which did they but recognise its true signifi-
cance they would perceive to be altogether ii-reverent.

SHAKESPEARE AND HISTORY.

y^Cji^jjMSg^ 1 1 E character of Richard III., in Shake-
speare's ])lay of that name, has ever been
considered one of Shakespeare's finest crea-
tions. Whether we consider the wonderful
variety of aspects under which the hunch-
backed tyrant is presented to us, or the force
and spirit with which each is drawn, we are
alike a.stonished and delighted. But this picture, which is
so excellent an illustration of the poet's power, is no correct
portrait of the third and worst of our English Richards, any
more than the bodily distortion attributed to Richard III. is
historically just.

So much variety of opinion has existed among historians
in regard to Richard III., that it is difficult to form an
opinion as to the man's leal character. There is no part of
history which is involved in so much obscurity as the War
of the Roses. Many important incidents which, were they
well authenticated, might assist us to form an opinion as to
Richard's character, are diflerently stated by historians, or
even by some entirely denied.

Possibly, I may remark in passing, the question of the
character of our English kings may in itself have little
interest for our readers, most of whom, I suspect, have gotten
over the foshion of regarding the lives of the Kings and
Queens of England as the most important parts of history.
Men of sense regard our English kings as only important
historically because of the immense amount of mischief
their rapacity, ambition, and general villany have occa-
sioned. Yet Shakespeare's creations are always worth
studying, and we cannot but take an interest in the com-
jiarisou of the picture of Richard III. drawn by Sliakospeare
and the real villain of history.

It was perhaps natural that Shakespeare, who wrote at
a time when the intellectual progress that had begun when
the Tudors were established on the English throne had
reached a high development, should form an exaggeratedly
unfavourable estimate of Richard III. It was natural that
he should contemplate with something of horror a reign
whose annals are so dark, and should ascribe to that kmg
the largest share of the blame for all that disgraced his
time — for the savage manners and the dishonourable con-
duct which characterised nearly all the leading men of that
age. Another reason, probaljly, for Shakespeare's feeling
of intense dislike for Richard III. was that the last king of
the House of York was the personal enemy of Henry
Tudor, the grandfather of that queen who, with all her
faults, was the pride and glory of Shakespeare's time.*

* Mr. Donnelly's assertion that the writer of the historical plays
hated and even despised Elizabeth is fairly disposed of by the

Some historians even confirm the story that Richard III.
met his death at the bands of Henry VII.— a story
naturally accepted by Shakespeare as dramatically eifectivo ;
but there is not a shadow of evidence that they encountered
on the field of battle. Had they done so, the event of
Bosworth Field might have been difierent. For whatever
his faults may have been, Richard was a stark warrior.

It is certain, be the explanation what it may, that Shake,
speare has drawn Richard's character darker — which was
by no means necessary — than historic truth would justify.

In the contest between the rival houses of York and
Lancaster, Richard acquired early the reputation of a brave
soldier and an able general. He does not a])pear to have
been at that time in any way distinguished from his brothers,
Edward and George, or the young nobility who fought in
the same cause. Yet to this part of his life Shakespeare,
following Holinshed, attributes two of the most brutal
murders — the public stabbing of Prince Edward at Tewkes-
bury and the secret murder of Henry VI. in the Tower.
Other chroniclers than Holinshed confirm Shakespeare in
this, but it is exceedingly unlikely that Richard took any
personal part in either murder.

In like manner, the murder of Clarence, which Shake-
speare attributes to Richard, and represents I^dward as
regretting, was almost certainly ordered by Edward alone.
Edward was as unscrupulous as Richard subsequently
proved to be, and Edward's sitspicions of George show that
in all probability the three brothers were fairly matched in
this respect. The Plantagenets, as a family, never allowed
kinship to interfere with their ambitions, any more than did
their Norman predecessors, or the Ttidors, who succeeded
the rival Plantagenet houses of York and Lancaster.

On the death of Edward, Richard does not at first seem
to have entertained any idea of .seizing the crown. He was
justified in claiming the protectorate, not only by his near
relationship to Edward, but by the general prejudice against
the Woodvilles (the family of Edward's widow). But from
the moment Richard obtained the regency he was placed in
a position in which he found it impossible to maintain him-
self without constant watchfulness. The Queen's family
began to form plots and intrigues against him. He knew
that the authority he possessed while Prince Edward was a
minor would not secure him against future dangers. The
young Prince, as he grew up, would be most likely to side
with his mother. Beside.?, he could scarcely but recall the
fate of another Gloster who had held a similar position, and
had been murdered when the Prince for whom he had held
the reins of power had mounted the throne. It was with
such dangers before him that Richard was led to assume
the sovereignty, an act doubtless of treachery and villainy,

closing scene of " Henry VIII.," when the historical plays merge, as

it were, into contemporary history : —

'■ The words I utter
Let none thinke flattery ; for they'l tinde 'em truth.
This Royall infant, Heaven shall move about her ;
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand Blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripenesse ; she shall be
(ISut few now living can behold that goodnesse)
A Patterne to all princes living with her.
And all that shall succeed. Salia v/ii" never
More covetous of wisdome and fair Vertue,
Than this pure Soule shall be I All princely graces
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
■\Vith all the Vertucs that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her.''

With much more to the .same effect. All this in the folio edition,
where Mr. Donnelly reads his I'.aconian abuse and ridicule of Queen
Elizabeth. Note, moreover, that this was probably written after
Klizabeth's death (" Eichard III." was written many years before
that event).

re

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1888.

even though it was thus intended as a means of safety
against the treachery and villainy of others. How far the
character of his opponents would have justified the seizure
of power from them need not be considered. The wrong
was done against one who was at least innocent of any
actual offence against Richard. Yet we must recognise
some distinction between an act of rapacity almost essential
to Richard's safety, and an act of villainy deliberate!}'
plotted against the innocent Prince, his nephew.

Up to this point in his history Richard had been far from
encountering that universal hatred which is pictured in
Shakespeare's play. On the contrary, he seems to have
been rather popular than otherwise ; and his accession to
the regency was hailed with delight by the English people.
But we enter now on a darker scene, of which this act was
the prelude. It rendered Richard at once unpopular. Our
English race has always, even in the dajs of its semi-
savagery (the good old times, as .some fondly call them),
been quickly excited to indignation at the sight of the weak
and innocent oppressed by the crafty and rapacious. The
executions — murders though they perhaps were — of Rivers,
Grey, and Hastings had been so much in accordance with
the practice of those pleasant times, that they had attracted
little notice and roused still less excitement. But in de-
priving the boy-Prince of his inheritance Richard was
offending the whole nation, while exposing England to a
repetition of those scenes of horror which had but lately
ceased, and from the effects of which the country was still
suffering severely. Accordingly, Richard found this measure
received with so much indignation, and his new power so
insecure, that the murder of the Princes seemed to him the
only way to protect himself from those who were eager to
restore to them their rights.

The murder of the Pi-inces was Richard's destruction.
The wrath of the English people at his usurpation turned
at once into execration ; and thenceforward there was no
villainy of which they did not believe him capable, scarce
.any known to have happened during the evil days of the
War of the Roses of which they were not prepared to regard
him as the actual perpetrator. Men could scarcely believe
that so iinnatural a murderer possessed the form or attri-
butes of humanity. It is difficult, even now, for any one of
the English I'ace to do such justice to Richard as should be
meted even to so great a villain. We must not forget, how-
ever, that — though hanging would have been too good for
him — thei-e is a distinction between murder suggested by
iin.scrupulous ambition combined with the dread of imminent
danger, and that inherent ferocity and brutality, that love
of cruelty for cruelty's sake, which characterises the Richard
of Shakespeare's creation.

It is interesting to notice how Richard's crimes and their
punishment were connected. The usurpation by which
Richard had sought to make himself secure brought greater
dangers with it. The crime by which he thought to pro-
tect himself against these led to his overthrow and death.
We cannot wonder that even in the semi-savage England
of the fifteenth century this should have happened. The
light of chivalry, such as it was, had been dimmed amid
the disorder and depression of the civil war; yet the
nation was not slow to raise its voice in ominous tones
against the king who had been guilty of a crime so cruel
and so cowardly. Richard himself seems to have begun
to recognise the finger of Providence in the misfortunes
which now began to frill upon him. His demeanour and
gestures during the lattei' part of his life indicated the
terrors suggested by a guilty conscience. He continued to
oppose with vigour and capacity the plots and intrigues
which now thickened around him, but it was with evident
anxiety as to the result. He could no longer trust his

nearest friends. He could perceive fear and hatred ill-
concealed in the countenances of all around him. When
the stoi'm which had so long been gathering on the horizon
at length burst over him, Richard found the means he
had prepared to stay its progress turned against himself.

Richard's conduct, however, in this last scene of his life
was marked by singular courage and energy. He fought
resolutely to the last, and he finally met defeat and death
on Bosworth Field with all the valour for which the
Plantagenets had long been famous.

In the Richard of history, then, we have a man distinctly
different from the Richard of Shakespeare's play. Possess-
ing energy and talents, and a high position in the nation,
Richard III. found himself so placed that these advantages
involved serious dangers. There seemed to him to be no
middle course : he must either do or sutler wrong. That he
chose the former in such an ago, though it must be con-
demned, is not greatly to be wondered at. His character
has been well summed up in the statement that " he difiered
little from the ordinaiy nobleman of his time, except that
circumstances gave him the power to perform signal acts
of treachery and to profit by them."

As regards Richard's capacity there can be no question.
Every act of his recorded by history speaks of the man of
energy and decision, who amidst plots and intrigues sees at
once the best path for safety, and follows it without scruple
or compunction. He would probably have failed had he
attempted to oppose secret plots with craft and policy. He
met them and dispersed them openly and vigorously. In
the family of Edward's queen he had to contend with those
who, having been raised from an humble condition, enter-
tained .a natural aversion to a prince whose family claims
were older and stronger. They spared no efforts to bring
about his overthrow.

We cannot rightly judge, however, of the character of
the Richard of history, nor rightly appreciate the Richard
of Shakespeare's powerful play, without consiilering the
tendencies of that dark and gloomy age. In judging any
man's conduct it is always important to consider the times
in which he lived, but it is specially so in the present
instance. There has seldom been an age whose character
has been so marked as was t'nat of the age preceding the
Reformation. Generally in each succeeding era of a nation's
history the elements of good and evil, of order and disorder,
exist side by side — in different degrees, but still actively
present, and in some degree counteracting each other. But
at the close of the War of the Roses the elements of order
seemed to have almost wholly disappeared. The very
groundwork of society sesms shaken. The kingly power,
the Church, and the nobility, had all at the same time lost
their influence on the people, while the people were, as yet,
altogether unable to control their own destinies.

England had seen the throne occupied by the usurper
Henry TV., the rightful king murdered, the lawful heir in
prison. After the brilliant but short reign of Henry V.
they had seen his son a mere puppet in the hands of the
nobility — now in the nominal possession of power, anon
flying for his life. It was natural that they should lose
that devoted attachment which the kingly dignity had once
inspired — an attachment which, worthless though it would
be now, was once an important element of the nation's
strength.

It was the same with the Church. The nation had seen
its abuses laid bare by Wycliffe and his followers, and had
also felt by bitter experience the change which had taken
place fiom the comparative purity of former times. They
noted the selfish and often evil lives of many who professed
to be their teachers ; they suffered from the rapacity and
avarice of the priesthood of the time. We cannot wonder.

February 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

77

then, that the Church had lost the hold it had once had on
the confidence, if not on the aSections of the people.

The nobility had in large degree forsaken the chivalry of
their forefathers, which, though coarse, was wholesome.
They were no longer distinguished from the commonalty by
valour or capacity, but only by splendour and luxury.

While the old order had thus passed away, the new order
which was to replace it had not yet appeared. A sense of
insecurity, accompanied by a dis.solution of all restraints of
honour, can be recognised in all classes in that dark era of
English history. As Hume has well .said, " All that we
can distinguish with certainty through the deep cloud which
covers that period is a scene of hoiTor and bloodshed,
savage manners, arbitrary executions, and treacherous and
dishonourable conduct in all parties." If any man in that
age had reason to feel its .savagery, or was likely to be in-
fluenced by it, it was Eichard. In the earlier part of the
civil war his family were treated as traitors and rebels, his
father was slain, one brother forswore himself and fought
against his own relations, another murdered his traitorous
brother, and he hiniself had been compelled to endure and
inflict wrongs of the most cruel nature. His usurpation
and the crimes which followed it were a very natural sequel
to a life-experience so brutalising.

Of Richard's domestic life we know little. History gives
no sort of support to the stories of domestic villany intro-
duced as parts of the picture of the Shake.spearian Richard.
It is unlikely that the real Richard was a dutiful son or an
affectionate husband, but history does record that he was a
loving father. Nay, some historians attribute his worst
crimes in part to his anxiety to secure the throne for his son
Prince Edward.

ARCTIC ORIGIN OF ARYAN RACES.

HERE are few developments of the genor.al
doctrine of evolution more interesting than
those which relate to language. The dis-
cussion of the origin of languages and
dialects, and their development after they
have come into existence, is sufliciently
interesting ; but more interesting still is the
study of languages in their relation to the past history of
races. It is as bearing on the e\-olution and development of
races, much more than as bearing on the evolution of lan-
guage, that philological researches chiefly interest the student
of science.

There is one sulyect of special interest in the past history
of i-aces on which the stmly of language promises to throw
light. Whence did each race first come ? Whence, in par-
ticular, did that great division of the human i-ace, the
Aryan or Indo-European, to which we our.selves belong,
take its origin] Over what regions, again, has this par-
ticular stream of human life flowed since first it had separate
existence ?

Of old, when the more thoughtful strove to deal with
such questions as the diversity of language, they gave com-
paratively simple answers to such questions as these. It
was enough to suppose that all men originally spoke one
language, and that that language was miraculously con-
founded, insomuch that different sets of men and women
(quite possibly different pairs) had to form different races
and nations. There w.as no difliculty in all this to primitive
thinkers. They could see no special reason why a single
pair should not start a thriving race ; indeed, they imagined
the process repeated whenever some new race was to be
originated, especially when it seemed to them that by such
a theory either the importance of their own special family

might be enhanced, or the specially undesirable character of
their own enemies might be indicated.

The question of the origin of Aryan races was one of
those with which primitive thinkers dealt in this simple
fashion. It was enough for them to conceive the .Japhetic,
Semitic, and Hamite races to have sprung from three men,
sons, indeed, of one father and one mother, but by special
interposition of deity provided with different, nay, widely
contrasted racial characteristics. It is to be presumed that,
following on this special ordinance, there was understood to
have been some arrangement by which the three great
divisions of the human race, thus originated, were kept
distinct one from the other — besides, of course, that mira-
culous ordering of things by which the degeneration of the
descendants of a single pair was supposed (if any attention at
all was given to this dilficulty) to have been in some way
prevented.

It is hardly necessary to say that the Japhetian theory of
the origin of Aryan races has long since taken its place with
students of science beside the Babel theory of the origin of
languages. The Caucasian theory of Blumenbach, though
it held its ground long enough to give wide circulation to
the term Caucasian as a fit name lor the Ai-yan races, has
also long been abandoned. But no satis'actory solution had
yet been obtained for the problem of the origin of the
Aryans. Pott, Lassen, and Max Miiller maintained that
the highlands of Central Asia had in all probability been
the cradle of these races ; but there was very little evidence
to show that this theory was correct. The chief argument
used by those who supported it was based on the supposition
that Sanscrit is nearest of all the Indo-European languagey
to the primitive Aryan — a belief, however, for which the
evidence wa.s very slight. We can clearly trace back the
course of the Aryans into Lower India from the valley of
the Ganges, and into this region from the Punjaub, into
which region again they doubtless entered from the Hindoo
Koosh. But we can trace them no farther back. It is
true that the farther west of India we trace the language
the less original we find it, insomuch that we may fairly
infer that, while the Aryan Indians migrated to the south-
east, the Aryans of Persia and Asia Minor migrated west-
wards. For all these sections of the Indo-European race
we may find a cradle in the highlands of Central Asia
west of ilurtag and Belurtag. But we cannot conclude
safely from this that those highlands were the cradle from
which the whole Indo-European division of the human family
came. The Greek, the Roman, and the Romanic languages
may be referred to the same Central Asian source from
which the Persian or Iranian and the Sinscrit were derived,
and yet it would remain unproved that the Hungarian and
Lithuanian languages and dialects were derived thence, and
with doubt on this head would come in doubts as to all
forms of Teutonic and Celtic languages.

Now the researches of Cuuo, Geiger, Schrader, and Penka
tend to show with constantly increasing force of evidence,
that the languages of Middle and Western Europe were
derived from regions lying north and east of these regions —
in other words, from the regions around the Baltic. The
Rev, Canon Taylor, in a paper of singular interest recently
read before the British Association, points out that the
evidence indicates the Baltic provinces of Russia, or what
we used in old times to call Finland, as the central region
from which the Aryan races sprei\d— one great division
travelling southwards and eastwards over the central high-
lands of Asia, to occupy India, Persia, and Asia Minor ;
another travelling southwards and westwards over Prussia,
Poland, Hungary, Germany, Denmark, Gaul, and the^
British Isles. Each of these great divisions threw oft'
bi-anches in various direction.s, insomuch that we find the

78

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1888.

Aryans who had first spread eastwards extending themselves
westwards beyond Asia Slinor to Greece and Italy, while of
the Aryans who had first spread westwards, some extended
themselves northwards into the Danish peninsula, and then
westwards and southwards over the British Isles, France,
Spain, and even Africa (where the Kabyles ai-e distinctively
Aryan) and others passed from parts of Southern Germany
eastwards again. On such points there must ever remain
much doubt, but the evidence grows clearer and stronger,
year by year, that the real centre of dispersion was in
North-eastern Europe, and not in Central Asia.

MATERIAL OF THE UNIVERSE.

[Concluded from page 58.)

TOUCHED in my last on the relative masses
of the various members of the solar system,
and in so doing considered in a sense their
relative might, for on account of that myste-
rious power which matter possesses of attract-
ing matter we measure the strength of each
orb in the universe by its quantity of matter,
to which its attractive action at any given
distance is strictly proportional.

But there are other circumstances by which the import-
ance of the several planets, measured by reference to the
sway which each is cap.xble of exerting on surrounding
matter, is influenced, if not directly determined.

For example, consider the power which the sun has of
communicating velocity to matter drawn to his sui-face from
a distance. In this there is not only evidence of attractive
might, but also of potentialitj' in regard to other attributes
not less important to the sun regarded as the chief orb of
the solar system. For the sun's light and heat, as well as
other qualities which he possesses as a radiant orb, depend
on this effect of his attractive energy. We do not, indeed,
at present attach much weight to a theory once in vogue,
according to which the sun's light and heat were regarded
as due to the actual impact of meteoric bodies drawn
toward him in countless millions from outer space. But
the theory now generally accepted, according to which the
sun's heat is the thermal equivalent of the mechanical pro-
cess of contraction, going on constantly in consequence of
the sun's powerful attractive action on the materials of his
own globe, does in reality quite as definitely attribute his
light and heat to his attractive energy as did the old
meteoric theory ; and we may take the velocity he is capable
of generating in bodies drawn to him from great distances
as aflbrding a measure of his power — one might almost say
his vitality — in this respect, quite as confidently as though
the direct impact of such indrawn matter stirred his surface
to intense heat, and so caused it to glow with intense
lustre.

Now assuming as I do throughout my book (still in the
stage of growth) that the sun's distance is 92,780,000 miles,
which I consider probably far nearer the truth than
Newcomb's ninetj'-two and one-third millions, I find that
his mass amounts to 330,500 times the earth's, and that the
velocity with which matter drawn to his surface from an
indefinitely gi-eat distance would impinge vertically upon that
surface is no less than 382'57 miles per second. It is hardly
necess;iry to say that none of his dependent orbs compares
with him in this respect. If a body were let fall upon
Jupiter from an indefinitely great distance, being drawn to
Jupiter's surface by that planet's sole attraction, the velocity
of impact would be but 37'37 miles per second. In Saturn's

case the velocity would be 22-58 miles per second ; in
Neptune's [case 1372 miles; in the case of Uranus 13"25
miles; in the earth's G-913 miles (this represents the
velocity of seven miles per second with which .lules Verne's
Columbiad had to shoot forth those venturesome travellers
to the moon) ; in Venus's case the velocity of impact,
always supposing each planet left alone to generate the
greatest possible velocity, would be only 6 '218 miles per
second: in the case of Mars it would be 3'179 miles; in
that of Mercury 2-901 ; while lastly, our small companion
planet, the moon, if left to do its best alone on matter
approaching it from a very great distance, could not
generate a greater velocity than 1-1:82 mile in each second
of time — though this, by the way, is a considerable velocity,
being about four times the velocity with which a cannon-
ball leaves the mouth of the best cannon men have yet been
able to construct.

Bat no planet is able to exercise its control on an
approaching orb in this undisturbed fashion. There is
only indeed a comparatively limited region within which the
rule of a planet is superior to that of all other bodies, even
including the sun. Each planet has in this sense a special
domain, the limits of which are determined by the considera-
tion that whereas a bodj- outside those limits is drawn more
strongly toward the sun than toward the planet, within
them the reverse holds, and though it may be but for a
time that the planet exerts superior influence, the influence
of the planet on a body so situate is greater than that of
the sun or than the combined influence of the sun and all
other bodies whatsoever.

The sun, however, is the only orb whose power in
diminishing the control of the several planets over sur-
rounding space need be considered, all other influences
being relatively insignificant. He aflects the rule of planets
in two distinct ways : — First, by his direct power in draw.
ing matter toward him more strongly than any planet can,
unless the body is comparatively close to its surface ; and
secondly, by communicating such velocities to bodies mov-
ing within the solar system that even wlien they enter the
domain of a planet they remain within it but a short time.
Since his power in both respects depends on his distance, or
rather on the planet's distance from him, we find the outer
planets set in a relatively higher position as independent
rulers than the mere superiority of their mass would imply;
nay, the outermost of the outer family is set absolutely
higher in regard both to extent of domain and influence
within such domain than even the two chief planets Jupiter
and Saturn themselves.

I have calculated the extent of the domains of the several
planets, and the velocities with which matter entering those
domains would pass through them independently of the
action to which they are exposed during their passage. The
results are, I think, interesting, presenting, as they do, the
relative sway of the difierent members of the solar system in
a somewhat new light.

All the four terrestrial planets have domains very
limited in extent compared with those of the four outer
planets. The spherical domain of Mercury has a diameter
of only 32,000 miles ; and as bodies which chance to pass
through it have velocities ranging up to no less than 42
miles per second, ^Mercury's chance of much influencing
bodies passing near him is very small. Oiir own moon,
though she has less than a fifth the mass of Mercury, has
much more power in this respect, her domain being about
36,000 miles in diameter, while the greatest velocities of
bodies passing near her are but 26 miles in a second.
Tenus has a domain 106.000 miles in diameter, and at her
greater distance from the sun the maximum velocity of
passing bodies is reducel from the 42 miles per second

Februaky 1, 1868.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

noted in Mercury's case to only 30 miles. Our earth has a
domain about 3l'2,S00 miles in diameter, and the maximum
sun-imparted velocity of bodies entering that domain is 26
miles per second. As the span of the moon's orbit is neai-lj-
478,000 miles, the moon is not within the earth's domain,
nay, lies 77,500 miles beyond the range within which the
earth's rule is supreme, so that the moon is to be regarded
as a companion planet rather than as a mere satellite.
Mars is the only member of the sun's special family of
planets — for so I think we must consider the terrestrial
planets to be — which has dependent bodies under its own
special influence. For the domain of Mars is nearly
165,000 miles in diameter, while his satellites travel at dis-
tances of only 5,820 miles and 14, GOO miles, respectively,
from his centre. At the distance of Mars the greatest
velocities of passing bodies, so far at least as solar influence
is concerned, amount to 21 miles per second, and Mars can
do little to perturb bodies moving so quickly, even though
their course should carry them through the very midst of
his domain.

So soon, however, as wo pass to the wide region within
which lie the paths of the giant planets, we find planetary
domains far wider in extent and wherein planetary in-
fluences are exerted under conditions much more favourable.
The domain of Jupiter has a diameter of nearly 30,000,000
miles, within which the whole system of the Jovian satel-
lites, the span of which is but 2,800,000 miles, is swayed by
the planet's supreme influence, slightly modified by the
sun's perturbing action, indeed, but only in the same sense
in which the motion of the earth around the sun is modified
by the perturbing action of Jupiter. The domain of Saturn
is even larger, but so slightly that one may speak of the
domains of Jupiter and Saturn as practically equal. (Their
actual diameters are, respectively, 2t), 824, 000 miles and
20,912,000 miles.) And though the Saturnian system of
satellites has nearly twice the span of the Jovian system,
the diameter of the orbit of his eighth .satellite being no less
than 4,500,000 miles, yet this system is as completely under
Saturn's control as the motions of the terrestrial planets are
under the control of the central sun. Matter which has
entered within these two nearly equal domains travels with
sun-imparted velocities ranging up to eleven and one-half
miles jier second in the case of Jupiter and to eight and
one-half miles per second in the case of Saturn. Over matter
so moving both Jupiter and Saturn may exert very consider-
able influence, modifying not only the direction of motion, but
also — which is a point of much greater moment — its
velocity, and so modifying the span and period of orbital
motion which such matter may have had around the sun.
It is to be noticed that not only is the domain wide in each
case within which either Jupiter or Saturn exerts superior
influence, but the comparativeU' slow motion of sun-
influenced matter through that domain causes the matter
which has entered it from without to be much longer sub-
jected to disturbing influence than it would be if it rushed
along there with the velocities of 21, 26, 31, or 42 miles per
second with which matter crosses the domains of Mars, the
Earth, Venus, and Mercury. In this respect Uraniis, with
a smaller domain than either Saturn or Jupiter, and weaker
influence within that domain, has an advantage over both
those chief giants of the solar system. For the greatest
velocity (sun-imparted) with which matter can pass through
the domain of Uranus falls short of 6 miles per second.
The span of the domain of I'ranus is not far short of
24,00(1,000 mUes, and the system of Uranian satellites, the
span of which is about 1,000,000 miles, lies well within the
limits of the Uranian domain. But Neptune is, of all the
members of the solar system, the one whose domain is
widest, and whose influence within his domain is most

strikingly pai'amount. This domain has a diameter of more
than 40,000,000 miles, and in volume it is nearly equal to
all the other planetary domains put together. Matter
passes through this domain when entering it by chance from
without under solar influence only, with velocities which
range no higher than 4| miles per second ; and as
Neptune is so powerful that matter drawn to his .surface
under his own influence alone would have a velocity of
impact amounting to 13f miles per second, it is evident
that Neptune must be capable of perturbing the movements
of such matter in very large degree.

Such are the relations of matter as we find it distributed
within our solar system. A total quantity of matter sur-
passing even the tremendous mass of the eai'th no less than
331,000 times appears in this system aggregated into various
discrete masses, nearly all, however, being at the centre,
whence it may not only influence but warm and illuminate
all the rest. We see the various masses, according to their
amount and position, exercising sway over larger or smaller
regions of space, and over more or less important subordinate
.systems. We note, further, the antecedent probability —
and the evidence obtained by observation assures us of the
actual fact — that the larger these several masses are, the
more they retain of the heat due to the primary process of
their aggregation, the more nearly do they resemble the chief
mass in their power to warm — possibly in their power to
illuminate also — the bodies circling around them.

If these details of our solar system were not, though I
think thev are, most interesting in them s si ves, they would
be made supremely interesting by the comideration that each
one of the stars tells us of an aggregation of matter re-
sembling our solar system doubtless in origin, though the
circumstances of their formation may have led to difl'erent
details alike of distribution and condition. Here in our
solar system certain processes acting according to the known
law of universal gravitation, and also according to those
physical laws on which the generation of the so-called
physical forces depends have led to the gathering together
of an enormous central mass with the generation and
steady emission of immense quantities of light and heat.
Yonder in space we see in each star evidence of the
steady emission of immense quantities of light and heat,
assuring us of the past aggregation of immense quantities of
matter. Our solar .system is the one case we can actually
study of the aggregation of matter under laws not yet
clearly recognised, and still farther from being fully inter-
preted. It may perhaps be in one sense as hopeless to
endeavour to guess how other such aggregations have been
formed as it is to endeavour to ascertain from our earth's
life history the life histories of her fellow-worlds, or from
the condition of our moon the state of all such orbs as have,
like her, passed onward to the final stage of orb life, the
condition of death. But even as from the laws of the life
of any one animal we ain form a general idea of the laws
of the lives of other animals, and as the study of one plant
afibrds data for the determination of the general laws of
plant life, so we may fairly infer the general nature of the
final stage of orb life from the condition of our moon, the
general laws of world life from the life history of our earth
(so far as we have been able to read it), and lastly the
general nature of other sun-circling systems from the study
of the distribution of matter within our solar system, and
the state in which the matter so distributed exists, whether
in the supreme central mass, in the larger or smaller among
the subordinate masses, or in the relatively minute sub-
divisions of the original material of the system which wo
recognise in asteroids and satellites, in meteorites, aerolites,
and finally in the particles of mere cosmical du.st whoso
presence is attested by the phenomena of falling stars.

80

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

[February 1, 18S8.

MAP 11

IVIAP Xlt.

SOUTHERN LATITUDES

77i* linear scal^ Tudialh/'is inuAyntv
lhrtJitgJuyux,.i}\£ m^cox scale »j

and. hyyiC^aZ the edije

ScaXe tr^MiZcs at centre ofntnp
and. TO din lly all- over map
Enolist JGies

o&oioj:jo 4O0 eco i;oo

Small, areas are (jr eater l>y '^s^nalf
wujr to 0t£ cd0e , aa\d. "by Yl-^ • atf
the edge-

Eati^Wenar.&el.

February 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

81

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP XVI.— Fob JASOAKY, FEBRUARY, and MARCH.

^lT^frf'^^^'^ltf/fWfM^a

/;dOiv(?3^San

■fir-

,Q\H,L-

^5'^C'

M-^^^ ^.

; *'~"~.

..v''^^^?---^

%-\"^''
.'^. \

- ^**F

fr.5^

The Nioht Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46- to 2r S.)

AND THE

SOUTHERN SKIES IN ENGLAND (UPPBB HALP OP MAP ONLY) AT THE FOLLOWING TIMES:

At 1 o-oloC. morning. Feb. T. At 11 o.loC. night. >-ar. 8^ At 9 o'clock, night. Ag 7.^

,,12.30 .. „ Feb.U. I .,10.30 „ .. Mar. ^- ^^^^ 23.

..Midnight .^ F,«bf. ..10 „ .. Ma^-^-^ ,30 ^_ ,, ^pril 30.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night. Mar. 1. 1 » »-ao •• ■• '"'"•

First

Second

Stab Magnitudes.
. * Third .... *

Fourth ....-♦-

Fifth

82

KNOW^LKDGE *

[February 1, 1888.

ROYAL VICTORIA HALL.

{To the Editor o/ Knowledge.)

R. F. W. RUDLER gave an admirable lecture
on Tuesday, the 17th inst., on "Caves and
Cave Men." The lecturer began by saying
that the London clay, gravel, and sand are
too soft to admit of the formation of caverns,
which occur chiefly in the chalk and lime-
stone. He showed, by photographs of the
rocks near Flamborough Head and on the Dorsetshire
coast, how the destructive action of the waves, keeping up
a perpetual cannonade of small stones against the cliffs,
washes away the softer portions of the rocks so as to form
caverns. Water acts also by dissolving the chalk. The
rain-water absorbs carbonic acid from the air, which enables
it, as it trickles through the fissures, to dissolve a little of
the chalk or limestone, thus gradually enlarging the fissures
till it forms large caverns. Mr. Rudler, with the help of
some beautiful photographs, explained how the water,
charged with limestone, drips from the roof and forms
stalactites and stalagmites — the former resembling icicles
hanging from the roof, the latter formed underneath them
by the drip, and rising in conical masses from the floor, or
sometimes consolidated into a floor of remarkable hardness.
The cave of Gayleureuth, in Cxermany, is of this kind.
Under the stalagmite floor is a red-brown loamy earth,
which has been long known to contain bones. Goldfuss and
Cuvier discovered that these were the bones of extinct
animals. In 1822 the skeleton of a lai-ge animal was found
in a lead-mine in Derbyshire, and this proved to be the
skeleton of a rhinoceros, an animal now found only in
Africa. In the cave of Kirkdale, in Yorkshire, were found
an immense number of bones, which Dr. Buckland ascer-
tained to be chiefly those of the hyena, now met with only
in Africa and Asia. Other bones which were found with them
appeared to have been gnawed ; and, comparing these with
bones gnawed by hyenas in Wombwell's menagerie, Buck-
land found that they had been gnawed precisely in the same
manner. Clearly, then, this had once been a den of hyenas.
Other animals of which bones have been found in this or
other caves are the cave-bear, the cave-lion, the Irish elk,
and the mammoth. What this latter animal w,as Hke we
are not left to infer merely from its skeleton, for a carcass
of one was actually found in Siberia so perfectly preserved
by the ice in which it was imbedded that dogs ate some of
the flesh. It was a kind of elephant, with long curved
tusks and long hair, fitting it to live in comparatively cold
climates.

Was man living at the time when these animals existed
here ? Other caves enable us to answer this question in
the affirmative. In 1852, Professor Boyd Dawkins found
in Wookey's Hole, in Somersetshire, together with bones of
the hyena and cave-bear, a number of stone weapons,
evidently chipped and sharpened by the hand of man. In
Kent's Cavern, at Torquay, are two distinct strata contain-
ing bones, separated by a floor of stalagmite 2 feet thick.
The upper layer contains stone imjJements much less rude
in con.struction, evidently the product of a higher stage of
culture, together with needles and fish-hooks made of bone,
and also the skull of a very formidable kind of tiger. These
early men were not without some knowledge of art ; for we
find scratched on some of their bone implements very toler-
able representations of the reindeer, the mammoth, and the
Irish elk, and even of a hunt, with the figure of a man.
The cave-men appear to have lived by hunting and fishing,
with weapons of stone, bone, and wood, and to have clothed
themselves with skins, which they sewed together with bone
needles. When men took to agriculture and learnt to build

huts, they, as a rule, no longer lived in caves. But caves
have been used in later times as rallying-points, or for
purposes of concealment or defence, or as places of
sepulture.

The lecture was illustrated by excellent lantern views.
It was listened to with profound attention, and greatly
applauded at its close. The chairman, Mr. Marshall,
announced that the lecture on the 24:th inst. would be by
Professor Bonney, F.R.S., on " The Oldest Monuments in
Britain and Brittany." We understand that he will be
followed, on the 31st, by Professor Ram.say, on " Speech
made Visible; or Picture-writing as it was and as it is"; and
that on February 7 Dr. Percy Frankland will lecture on
"Germs in the Air"; and on February 14, Mr. E.
Wethered on " Volcanoes and Earthquakes."

M. C. Martineau.

1 Clifton Place, Sussex Square, W.

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

Grist. A large quantity. So far as I know, this term
is not used in this sense in England, even as a provincial
expression.

Grit. A term for strength of character. It probably
had its origin in districts where grindstones or millstones
were much used ; for the value of these depends on their
strength or hardness of texture, and only sandstone pos-
sessing good qualities for grinding can properly be called
iirit, or be said to have <irit. The term is probably in use in
parts of England in the same sense, but I have not heard it
so used, nor seen it in local papers or other provincial
literature.

Gritty, naturally, as the adjective derived from " grit,"
signifies spirited or courageous.

Grocery, for a grocer's shop, is as much English as
American ; but "grocery" used for a bar-room is decidedly
an Americanism. " Fetch on your groceries " addressed to
a bar-keeper or saloon-tender signifies bring forward whisky
and other spirits.

Groggery is, however, also used instead of " grocery," as
equivalent to our English " grog-shop."

Ground Hog Day in certain States represents Candlemas
D.ay (February 2), because the ground hog [Aj-ctomi/s monax)
is looked for on that day. If seen to come out of his hole
and return to it on February 2 cold weather will last long ;
but if he stays out there will be an eaily spring.

Ground-nut. The pea-nut, so called because it buries its
pods underground, after flowering, till the pods are ripened.
The pea-nut is a peculiarly American institution, like
chronic catarrh. It is characterised, so far as a stranger in
the land can judge, by an entire absence of all desii-able
qualities, and several hateful ones, as a most unplea.sant
and difl'usive odour, and a power of dispersing its shells
over a singularly wide area during the process of consump-
tion by free and independent youth.
Ground-peas. The pea-nut again.
Gruv for grieved is, let us trust, a true Americanism.
Guardeen. a quaint New England way of pronouncing
guardiati.

Guess, To. The use of this word to imply belief rather
than conjecture is now an Americanism, though formerly
pure English ; its use where there is not only belief, but
knowledge, is even more characteristically American, or
rather Yankee, for the usage is provincial even in the
States.

If we consider the origin of the word, which really signi-
fies to get, we can understand that the meanings given to it
should be varied among English-speaking races. Thus, when

Febkuary 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

83

" guess " is used to signify conjecture without any know-
ledge at all, it rightly represents the idea o{ getting, just as
the word " find " is rightly used in such a sentence as " I
cannot find the way." " Can you guess this riddle 1 " means
" Can you get its answer 1 " even though every attempt
depends on pure conjecture. But equally " I can guess
your meaning " is correctly expressed, though it implies not
mere conjecture without knowledge, but right opinion based
on just reasoning. The fii-st of the two American usages
mentioned above is equally within the limits of the word's
origin. Such expressions as " I guess it will rain," " I guess
you're tired," and so forth, mean that such is the opinion
I get on thinking about the matter, whatever it may be.
And lastly, the use of the word " guess " to imply certainty
veiy obviously corresponds with the idea of getting at some
thought — getting at it certainlj/ instead of doubtfully.

It appears to me that the American way of saying " I
guess," " I calculate," " I reckon," and so forth, instead of
expressing definite assent, is to be i-egarded as chai-acteristic
in much the same fashion that an Iiishman's way of saying
" I will," " I did," " I do," ifcc, instead of saying simply
" yes," Ls characteristic. For I notice that in many other
cases Americans use a method of expressing assent akin to
saying " I guess so." Thus, you ask an American at talile
if he will partake of such and such a dish, and his answer,
instead of being given in the usual English form, will probably
be, " I believe I will." Again, if you ask whether in some
matter the case is such and such, the answer may take any
one of a score of different forms rather than simple " Yes " —
from " That's so," or " That's the shape of it," down to
" You may bet your bottom dollar," or " You may bet your
pile, " or " You may bet your boots on that." The true
American seems to have a strange objection to saying
simply " Yes." Even " Yes, sir," does not satisfy him, except
where the expression of assent has to be very often repeated.
Occasionally he may say (euphemisticall)', as Bartlett puts
it), " Yes, sirreebob," a strange affirmative, which, so far as
I know, has not yet a))peared in literature, common though
it is in convei'sation ; but usually he prefere to say, " I guess
that's so," or " I reckon that's about the way of it," and the
like, though there is no real " guessing " or " reckoning " in
the matter. ^Vhy this should be so, while his English
cousin stands by the old ways and makes his yea yea and
his nay nay, it would be difiicult to determine.

In old English, by the way, " I gesse " seems to have
been equivalent to the " y wis " of Chaucer, and to the
" wus," " wusse," and "I wusse " of the less cultured
characters in the plays of the early English dramatists. I
have sometimes thought that the presence of the silent " u "
in the later spelling of the word indicates a real connection
between " guessing," " wissing," " witting," and so forth,
even as the forms "guard," "guardian," «fec., are connected
with " ward," " warden," <fec. But I suppose the connection
between " guess " and " get " has been made out to the satis-
faction of philologists, or it would hardly be so confidently
insisted upon as it is.

Gulch. A deep ravine caused by the action of running
water. The word is akin to the Swedish golka, to swallow.

Gulf States. Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama,
and Texas, the States bordering on the Gulf of Mexico.

Gum. The use of the word " gum " for gum-tree Is
probably purely American. And certainly the use of the
same word for india-rubber, and thence for anything made
of india-rubber, is strictly American slang. It will be
remembered that not long since the Snturdaii Review (some
of whose young buccaneers would write an essay on
Gujerati, knowing nothing beyond plain English, or on
the scenery of the river Lena, having seen but the Thames
and Severn) gravely told its readers, in an article intended

to crush these American notes of mine, that recently in
PhUadelphia the word " gums" had come to be applied to
india-rubber over-shoes — or something " to that defect." As
a matter of fact india-rubber shoes have been called "gums"
for generations. The expression has been familiar, not only
to my own ears, but in my own mouth, for more than four-
teen years — ever since, in fact, in December 1873, my
esteemed friend, the late Professor E. L. Youmans, enlight-
ened me as to the use of the word by asking at the Cen-
tury Club (about 2 A.M. on a frosty morning) if any one
had seen his " gums." But for a Saturday Revieioei-, who
probably had never travelled beyond Margate or Brighton,
it was something to know even so much — or so little — about
Americanisms.

COLLISIONS AT SEA.

By Sidney G. D. Andrews.

ilY attention has been drawn to an article
written imder the above heading in last
month's issue of this paper, discussing the
'• Action of the rudder upon steam and
sailing vessels." The writer has undoubtedly
put forward an argument that at least
would serve as a judicious warning to all
seamiu ;i_:;iiust the reckless use of the helm (especially the
port helm). Yet his argument becomes somewhat weak
when he infers that the present regulations ought to be
modified.

Before I say anything of those regulations, I will first
of all take the examples he has put forward to prove his
case, and endeavom- to show that neither of them in any
way shows the regulations for preventing collisions at sea to
be at fault.

His first example was when the Cunarder Merlin, leaving
Halifax on a voyage to Bei-muda, came into collision with
" a large square-rigged vessel." He gives me nothing reliable
to go upon as an argument, but simply quotes the com-
mander's reply to his remark : '• A pretty close shave that.

Captain S ." " Yes, but Lf I had followed the sailing

instructions we should not be here now to talk about it."
The writer then adds that although he could not ask the
captain to explain, still he " felt that at a critical moment
his thorough se;imanship had inspired him to do something
which contravened official orders for such emergencies, but
had saved their lives." I think those who have read his
account of that collision, brief as it was, and also the com-
mander's reply to him on this occasion, will almost doubt
whether he realises that such an article as Art. 23
exists in the " International Steering and Sailing Rules,"
for if he did, I could hardly imagine him making use of such
a sentence as the above.

Several years afterwards, the writer tells us, he was
standing on the pier at Halifax, seeing some friends off.
As the Cunarder Alphi shot out into the stream, he was
asked by a friend (a shipowner), " What coui-se will that
steamer take when her helm is put to port 1 " The answer
given by the friend was, " The stern of the vessel will be
deflected to the left, and not the bow, which moves around
in the direction you suppose." On observation, the writer
says he found this to be correct.

In this, to a great extent, I agree with the writer that
there is a considerable amount of deflection of the stem,
consequent on the ship's answering her helm, and, so to
speak, mo\-ing on a pivot placed amidships : but I do not
think he is right in saying that it is the stern and not the
bow that is deflected, for with a steamer going full speed
ahead through the water and turning on her helm, the

84

♦ KNOW^LEDGK ♦

[February 1, 1888.

deflection of the bow naturally deflects the stern also.
Then, again, has the -writer taken into account whethei- his
examples were paddle or screw steamers'! and if screw,
whether they were right or left handed, and whether in
either instance the engines were eased or reversed to facili-
tate the turning of the ship 1 For the subject of the
" action of the rudder upon steamei-s " can only be discussed
jointly with the action of the screw on the ships, and
in doing so it will be necessary to take an example where
the ship is not under the influence of any current.

The next example given is the collision between the
German ironclads Grosser Kurfiirst and Koniy Wilhclm. I
refrain from commenting on this case, but would again add.
Is the writer sure that the engines in either of these ships
were not stopped or reversed ? My reason for passing no
remarks on this collision is because I do not recollect the
facts of the case.

With reference to the collision between the Stoninyton
and Karragcmsett, it is .stated that both ships were approach-
ing head on at great speed, and that the rule of the road
was followed by both ships. Still they collided.

It seems to me that if in this case the rules and regula-
tions were followed, it was done in a way not in strict
conformity to the above rules, insomuch that it must have
been left till too late, for we are told "there was notsufiicient
interval to allow for the stern deflection."

The rule of the road allows every oflicer in charge of a
ship to exercise a certain amount of discretion, and this
would expect both ships to have altered their course in good
time, so as not to have had to put the helm hard over at
the last moment, which appears to have been done. Of
course this would be altered if it was thick weather, and the
putting of the helm hard over would perhaps be unavoid-
able ; on the other hand, if it was thick, they were most
emphatically di.sobeying all rules by going at " great speed "
in such weather.

In the writer's last example of a collision in the Oregon,
he even goes so far as to show by diagrams that a collision
would have been avoided if the Oregon had starboarded. I
quite agree with this example of his ; but to say that it
would have been directly disobeying the rules and regula-
tions (tc. would be absurd. I can only think that if he
has read the rules for preventing collisions at sea now in use
he has not tlioroughly grasped their meaning, and has missed
Art. 23 altogether.

Of the steamer leaving a wharf in Toronto Bay, which
was carefully lined by means of a stationary object, and
which was found to be bodily deflected to the left when the
helm was ported, I can only say that she, too, was most
probably brought under the influence of a broadside current
when her helm was being altered, and if not, will the writer
inform me how it is that if a right-handed screw steamer
is going full speed or any other uniform speed through the
water ahead, and the helm is put hard over either way, the
ship will describe a perfect circle, coming back to her former
position exactly, always providing there is no current? I
have seen this tested several times, and never known a ship
out half her breadth.

I am sorry that any one should think that such able
regulations as those provided by Government, not only of
this country, but of all other civilised countries, and which
are called " The International Steering and Sailing Rules "
should require modification. 1 believe the writer is not
alone in thinking so, but I can only say that in fifteen
years' experience, ten of which have been in some of the
finest steamers of England's mercantile marine, I have had
cause to see these regulations well tried, and in cases where
collisions have almost been inevitable, and in collisions
themselves, I have never yet found the said regulations

at fault, but always found, where used with discretion, that
any seaman, whoever he may be, can put his whole trust in
them. Of course, they cannot provide against the reckless
use of the helm (as it is too often used) through which so
many collisions occur; no regulations, whatever they might
be, could do so. At the same time I firmly believe that any
seaman who carefully carries out these rules, not thinking
only of one, but taking all into account (including
Art. 23), need never be afraid of losing his certificate
through a collision, and in most cases will save his ship and
all hands by adhering to them.

DARWIN'S LIFE AND LETTERS.

(Concluded.)

ARWIN worked at his rough notes on the
variation of animals and plants under
domestication, adding facts collected by
" printed inquiries, by conversations with
skilful breeders and gardeners, and by
extensive re;iding," but still gi-oping in the
dark as to the application of selection to
organisms living in a state of nature, until, as we have
seen, the chance reading of Malthus suggested a working
theory. A brief sketch of this theory, written out in
pencil in 1842, was elaborated in 1844 into an essay of
230 pages, the importance attached to which is shown by a
letter which Darwin addressed to his wife, charging her, in
the event of his death, to apply 400^. to the expense of pub-
lication, and suggesting certain competent men from whom
an editor might be chosen, preference being given to Sir
Charles (then Mr.) Lyell, with whom he was on specially
intimate terms and under much indebtedness — indeed, his
acceptance of the uniformitarian theory of the " Principles"
put him on the right track.

The correspondence between Darwin and Sir J. Hooker*
in the earlier part of the second volume throws a flood of
light on the collection and weighing of the materials for
the future book, especially those supplied by the facts of
geographical distribution ; but, passing this over as diffi-
cult of condensation, we find that, acting on Ly ell's advice,
Darwin began to write out his views on a scale three or
four times as extensive as that in which they appeared in
the " Origin of Species." Happily', their publication was
hastened by the well-known incident of the receipt of a
paper in June 1858 from Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace, who was
then in the Malay Archipelago, which " contained exactly
the same theory," and which was accompanied by a request
to Darwin, if he thought well of the essay, to send it to
Lyell for perusal. This Darwin did forthwith, writing as
follows : —

Your words have come true with a vengeance — that I should be
forestalled. ... I never saw a more striking coincidence ; if Wal-
lace had my MS. sketch written out in 1812, he could not have
made a better short abstract ! Even his terms now stand as heads
of my chapters. Please return me the MS., which he does not say
he wishes me to publish ; but I shall, of course, at once write and
offer to send to any journal. So all my originality, whatever it may
amount to, will be smashed, though my book, if it will ever have
an}- value, will not be deteriorated, as all the labour consists in the
application of the theory.

Darwin, as subsequent letters show, came out well in this
business. For to have hit upon a theory which interprets

* This extract is especially interesting as "marking time": "I
have read heaps of agricultural and horticultural books, and have
never ceased collecting facts. At last gleams of light have come,
and I am almost convinced (quite contrary to the opinion I started
with) that species are not (it is like confessing a murder) immutable."
Letter, January 11, 1844. Vol. II., p. 23.

February 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

85

so large a question as the origin and causes of modification
of life-forms, to keep on turning it ovei' and over again in
the mind for twenty long years, to spend the working-time
in every day in collection and verification of facts for and
against it, and then to have another man launching a " bolt
from the blue " in the shape of a paper with exactly the
same theory, might well disturb even a philosopher of
Darwin's serenity.

However, both Hooker and Lyell had read his sketch a
dozen years before, and it was arranged by these two friends,
not as considering claims of priority, which have too often
been occasion for unseemly wi-angling, but in " the interests
of science generally," that an abstract of Darwin's MS.,
together with his letter to Asa Gray, should be read with
Wallace's paper at a meeting of the Linnean Society, July 1,
1858. Sir Joseph Hooker says, in a letter to Mr. Francis
Darwin : " The interest excited was intense, but the subject
was too novel and too ominous for the old school to enter
the lists before armouring. After the meeting it was talked
over with bated breath. Lyell's approval, and perhaps in a
small way mine, as his lieutenant in the affair, rather
overawed the Fellows, who would otherwise have flown out
against the doctrine. We had, too, the vantage-ground of
being familiar with the authors and their theme."

Nothing can deprive Mr. Wallace of the honour due to
him as the co-originator of the most important theory of our
time, and in connection with this it is due to him to quote
his self-effacing remarks in the preface to his volume of
essays, as also Darwin's just tribute to him on its pub-
lication : —

The present work will, I venture to think, prove that I both saw
at the time the value and scope of the law which I liad discovered,
and have since been able to apply it to some purpose in a few
original lines of investigation. But here my claims cease. 1 have
felt all my life, and I still feel, the most sincere satisfaction that
Mr. Darwin had been at work long before me, and that it was not
left for me to attempt to write the " Origin of Species." I have
long since measured my own strength, and know well tliat it would
be quite unequal to that task. Far abler men than myself may
confess that they have not that untiring patience in accumulating
and that wonderful skill in using large masses of facts of the most
varied kind — that wide and accurate physiological knowledge —
that acuteness in devising and skill in carrying out experiments,
and that admirable style of composition at once cl^ar, persuasive,
and judicial — qualities which, in their harmonious combination,
mark out Mr. Darwin as the man, perhaps of all men now living,
best fitted for the great work he has undertaken and accomplished.*

Darwin's words are as follows : —

There has never been passed on me, or, indeed, on any one, a
higher eulogium than yours. I wish that I fully deserved it. Your
modesty and candour are very far from new to me. I hope it is a
satisfaction to you to reflect — and very few things in my life have
been more satisfactory to me — that we have never felt any jealousy
towards each other, though in one sense rivals. I believe I can say
this of myself with truth, and I am absolutely sure it is true of you.

Mr. Wallace modestly, but correctly, assesses his powers,
and his subsequent entanglement in the meshes of spiritual-
ism, combined with his hesitation to apply the theory of
evolution to man in his tout ensemble, 'f make us thankful
that the working-out of the details of the theory of natural
selection was left to Darwin alone.

Shortly after the Linnean meeting Darwin set to work to
prepare a series of papers which, always regarded by him
as an " Abstract," ultimately took book form, and was
published under the title of the " Origin of Species " in

* " Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection." Mac-
millan & Co. 1870.

t In a letter to Wallace, April 14, 1869 (vol. iii., p, 116), Darwin
says : — " As you expected, I differ grievously from you, and I
am very sorry for it. I can see no necessity for calling in an addi-
tional and proximate cause in regard to man. But the subject is
too long for a letter."

November 1859. In his own crisp, clear English, Professor
Huxley describes the reception of that book, adding some
interesting autobiographical matter, and we commend the
reading of his chapter to a generation which, drinking in
Darwinism from its birth, may learn with surprise what a
storm and outcry both in clerical and scientific quarters its
publication raised. " In fact," the Professor says, " the
contrast between the present condition of public opinion
upon the Darwinian question ; between the estimation in
which Darwin's views are now held in the scientific world ;
between the acquiescence, or at least quiescence, of the
theologians of the self-respecting order at the present day
and the outburst of antagonism on all sides in 1858-59,
when the new theory respecting the origin of species first
became known to the older generation to which 1 belong, is
so startling that, except for documentary evidence, I should
be sometimes inclined to think my memories dreams." *

As for as the larger number of naturalists and of the
intelligent public who followed their lead were concerned,
there was an absolutely open mind to receive a sufficing
explanation of the mutation of species. There had been a
long time of preparation and speculation. Evolution in one
form or another is as old as Pythagoras and Empedocles,
but although Herbert Spencer had removed it from the
empirical stage at which it had remained for more than two
thousand years, and placed it on an inductive base broad as
the facts by which it was supported, and although Emerson,
seer-like, felt it to lie at the heart of things, it was not in
touch with the age until Darwinism gave it that practical
form and human interest by which it could be seized on and
applied in a concrete way. Dissertations on the passage of
the homogeneous to the heterogeneous; explanations of the
theory of the evolution of complex sidereal systems out of
diffused vapours of seemingly simple texture, interested
people only in a vague and wondering fashion, but when
Darwin ilhistrated development by familiar illu.strations
gathered from his observations and experiments, and from
intercourse with breeders of pigeons, horses, and dogs, and
applied these to the question of the variation of life-forms,
this went to men's " business and bosoms," and if the vulgar
interpreted Darwinism as the explanation of man's descent
from a monkey, or of the whale which was once a bear that
had taken to swimming, the thoughtful accepted it as the
master-key that unlocked the long-hidden mystery, not of
origins, nor of the causes of variations, nor of heredity, but
of the great agent, natural selection, which, operating on
favourable variations, has brought about myriads of species
from simple forms.

Among the men of " light and leading," Hooker, Huxley,
Bates, and Sir John Lubbock were immediate converts,
so were Lyell and Asa Gray, but with reservations ; Henslow
and Pictet went one mile, but refused to go twain ; Agassiz,
Murray, and Harvey would have none of the new doctrine ;
neither would Adam Sedgwick, who wrote a long letter of
protest to Darwin, couched in loving terms, and ending
with the hope that " we shall meet in heaven," while the
unsatisfactory and " hedging " attitude of Profes.sor (now
Sir Richard) Owen is matter of history, as are the two
pitched battles at the Oxford meeting of the British Associa-
tion in 1860, immortalised by Huxley's annihilating rejoinder
to Bishop Wilberforce's question as to the Professor's lineal
relationship to an ape. But "the Lord was not in the
earthquake," and the rumblings soon ceased, to be awakened
for a little while when the " Descent of Man " was pub-
lished. The first shock over, the timid were reassured, and,
when the theologians, finding, like the Empress Helena in
search of the true cross, what they looked for, .saw .nnticipa-

* Vol. ii. p. 181.

86

KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1888.

tions of the nebular theory and of the successive advance in
life-forms in the first chapter of Genesis, and in the prepara-
tion for Christianity in Judaism, the more liberal among
them welcomed the new evangel, and told us in their artless
way that they knew it all before 1 Well had they kept the
secret.

It is often said that a man's religion concerns him-
self only. So far as the value of the majority of people's
opinions on such high matters goes, this is true ; but it is
a very shallow sa\ing when applied to men whose words
carry weight, or whose discoveries cause us to ask what is
their beai'ing on the larger questions of human relations
and destinies to which past ages have given answers that no
longer satisfy us, or that are not compatible with the facts
discovered. Whatever silence Darwin maintained in his
books as to his religious opinions, intelligent readers would
see that unaggressive — and wisely so, for the immediate work
in hand — as was the mode of presentment of his theory, it
undermined current beliefs in special providence, with its
special creations and contrivances, and therefore in the inter-
mittent interference of a deity, excluding that supernatural
action of which miracles are the decaying stock evidence.

Nor could they fail to ask whether the theory of
natural selection by " descent with modification " was to
apply to the human species. And when Darwin, already
anticipated in this application by his more daring disciples.
Professors Huxley and Haeckel, pubhshed his " Descent of
Man," with its outspoken chapter on the origin of con-
science and the development of belief in spiritual beings, a
belief subject to periodical revision as knowledge increased,
it was obvious that the bottom was knocked out of all
traditional dogmas of man's fall and redemption, of human
sin and divine forgiveness. Therefore, what Darwin him-
self believed was a matter of moment, and his answers to
inquiries which were made public during his lifetime told
us what we expected, that while the vai-ying circumstances
and modes of life made his judgment often fluctuate, and
that while he had never been an atheist in the sense of
denying the existence of a God, " I think," he says, " that
generally (and more and more as I grow older) but not
always, an agnostic would be the most correct description of
my state of mind." The chapter on " Religion," which,
although a part of the autobiography, is printed separately,
adds little to this bit of information — we were about to say
this confessio fidei; but it is, as the following quotation
shows, interesting as detailing a few of the steps by which
Darwin reached that suspensive stage.

Whilst on board the Beagle I was quite orthodox, and I remember
being heartily laughed at by several of the officers (though them-
selves orthodox) for quoting the Bible as an unanswerable authority
on some point of morality. I suppose it was the novelty of the
argument that amused them. But I had gradually come by this
time — i.e. 1836 to 1839— to see that the Old Testament was no more
to be trusted than the sacred books of the Hindoos. The question,
then, continually rose before my mind, and would not be banished

is it credible that if God were now to make a revelation to the

Hindoos he would permit it to be connected with the belief in
Vishnu, Siva, &c., as Christianity is connected with the Old Testa-
ment ? This appeared to me utterly incredible.

By further reflecting that the clearest evidence would be requisite
to make any sane man believe in the miracles by which Christianity
is supported — and that the more we know of the tixed laws of
nature the more incredible do miracles become — that the men at
that time were ignorant and credulous to a degree almost incom-
prehensible by us, that the Gospels cannot be proved to have been
written simultaneously with the events, that they differ in many
important details, far too important, as it seemed to me, to be
admitted as the usual inaccuracies of eye-witnesses; by such
reflections as these, which I give not as having the least novelty or
value, but as they influenced me, I gradually came to disbelieve
in Christianity as a divine revelation. The faot that many false
religions have spread over large portions of the earth like wildfire
had some weight with me.

But I was very unwilling to give up my belief ; I feel sure of
this, for I can well remember often and often inventing day-di'eams
of old letters between distinguished Romans, and manuscripts being
discovered at Pompeii or elsewhere, which confirmed in the most
striking manner all that was written in the Gospels. But I found
it more and more difficult, with free scope given to my imagination,
to invent evidence which would suffice to convince me. Thus dis-
belief crept over me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete.
The rate was so slow that I felt no distress.

Although I did not think much about the existence of a personal
God until a considerably lat er period of my life, I will here give the
vague conclusions to which I have been driven. The old argument
from design in Nature, as given by Paley, which formerly seemed to
me so conclusive, faUs, now that the law of natural selection has been
discovered. We can no longer argue that, for instance, the beauti-
ful hinge of a bivalve sheU must have been made by an intelligent
being, like the hinge of a door b_v a man. There seems to be no
more design in the variability of organic beings, and in the action
of natural selection, than in the course which the wind blows.
But I have discussed this subject at the end of my book on the
" Variation of Domesticated Animals and Plants," and the argu-
ment there given has never, as far as 1 can see, been answered.

Without doubt, the influence of the conclusions deducible
from the theory of evolution are fatal to belief in the super-
natural. When we say the supernatural, we mean that
great body of assumptions out of which is constructed all
theologies the essential element in which is the intimate
relation between spiritual beings, of whom certain qualities
are predicated, and man. These beings have no longer any
place in the efl'ective belief of intelligent and unprejudiced
men, because they are found to have no correspondence with
the ascertained operations of nature, which may or may not
be the vehicles of Mr. Spencer's " Infinite and Eternal
Energy," but which are not due to the fictitious demiurges
of the type created by Kepler to account for the movements
of the planets. The supernatural, or the natural — for from
our standpoint the term matters little — remains unex-
plained. Darwin says, " I cannot pretend to throw the
least light on such abstruse problems. The mystery is
insoluble by us, and I for one must be content to remain
an Agnostic." In the chapter already referred to, Professor
Huxley says, " In respect of the great problems of philo-
soph)', the post-Darwinian generation is, in one sense,
exactly where the praj-Darwinian generations were. They
remain insoluble. But the present generation has the
advantage of being better provided with the means of free-
ing itself from the tyranny of certain sham solutions."*
Science may borrow the Apostle's words, " Behold ! I show
you a mystery," and give to them a profounder meaning
as it confesses that the origin and ultimate destiny
of matter and motion ; the causes which determine the
behaviour of atoms, whether they are arranged in the
lovely and varying forms which mark their crystals,
or whether they are quivering with the life which is
common to the amoeba and the man ; the conversion of the
inorganic into the organic by the green plant, and the
relation between nerve-changes and consciousness ; are alike
impenetrable mysteries.

There is no finality in science, but when we reflect
how the major numlier of problems suggested by the
universe, regarded only from a mechanical standpoint,
have one by one been solved by the intelligence of man,
the thought sometimes arises that the limits of know-
ledge may be reached, and that little remains to be dis-
covered within the domain of the phenomenal beyond the
fiUing-in of details; that, as an eminent astronomer who
has proved the star-depths, and read the message of the
most distant light- bringers known, remarked some time ago
to the present writer, " the cream has been skimmed." The
discoveries of the law of gravitation, of the distribution

J * Vol. ii. p. 204.

Febecary 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

87

and like chemical elements of the heavenly bodies, of the
distance and size of large numbers of them, of the molecular
constitution of matter, of the conservation of energy, of the
fundamental identity of stuff in sun and planets and in all
life-forms, and finally, of the mighty processes which have
evolved the not-living and living totality of the universe
from a diffused mass of vapour ; — these are the triumphs of
the human intellect, and now, perchance, it may not do
amiss if it turn aside for a time to problems which are less
remote, and in the solution of which the heart must play a
large part — namely, the redress of social ills which make the
" struggle for life " more severe among civUised races than
among barbaric races and the lower animals.

Edward Clodd.

THE ORIGIN OF MAN.

ROFESSOR MAX MULLER has just brought
out his " Science of Thought," the true object
of which is to show that thought is an aspect
of language, whatever that mysterious state-
ment may mean. Fortunately Professor
Miiller explains at the outset that it reallv
matters little or nothing whether we regard
thought as he does or as men have hitherto regarded it —
— that is, as a process relating to objects, attributes, and
acts, whose working cannot proceed without language of
some sort. If ever Professor Miiller 's idea is establLshed
thought will go on just as it did before; or, as he himself
puts it, '■ we should remain in every respect exactly as we
were before, we should only comprehend our inner workings
under new and, I believe, more correct names."

But Professor Miiller has further undertaken in this new-
old work of his to renew his attack on the general theory of
biological evolution (of which the Darwinian theory is but a
part), an attack which had considerable interest fourteen
years ago, but is now wholly out of date. It is not to deal
with Miiller's worn-out objection that articulate speech
separates man absolutely from all animals that I am now
about to write of Jliiller and Darwin ; but as Miiller repre-
sents a type of anti-Darwinians which is very wide-spread,
I propo.se to consider here the strange misapprehensions
into which he and others of his type have fallen respecting
the doctrine of biological evolution, which in its general
form is now universally accepted by all whose opinion can
reasonably be regarded as of any weight.*

The fatal error — fatal at least so far as understanding
evolution is concerned — into which Max Miiller and most
other anti-Darwinians fall, is that of supposing that the
modern biological doctrine of the origin of man regards the
human race as descended from a single pair. " Popular
scientific opinion now," says Miiller (meaning, as the con-
text shows, the ideas generally accepted as the teaching of
leading biologists), " is decidedly in favour of one primitive
pan- of human parents— nay, it hankers for one ]irimordial
ancestor for all ancestors, and in the end for all organic
beings."

If Professor Miiller had said that this was the common
misinterpretation of the teachings of Darwin and of Darwin's

* It is from no want of respect for Muller, whose position in his
own scientific department is very high and thoroughly merited, that
I include him among those whose opinion about Darwinism has no
weight ; it is simply because, like others of his type, he has not
cared to make himself acquainted even with the elementary details
of the theory he rejects. He is in that respect like a clerical
person who, being asked by a friend of mine if he had carefully
studied certain writings he had been enthusiastically objurgating,
replied earnestly, " Thank God, I have never even seen them ! "

co-workers and followers, he would have been near the
truth. Darwin speaks repeatedly of the ape-like progenitor
of the human race, of man's anthropoid ancestor, and so
forth ; and his fellow -workers and followers have used
similar expressions. Again, Darwin and the Darwinians
speak of the probability that the primordial forms from
which animal and vegetable life sprang may have been very
few — four or five, perhaps — perhaps fewer — perhaps even
but one. Probably Darwin and his followers have never
conceived it possible that this way of speaking could be
misunderstood.

Yet very soon after the " Origin of Species " was written,
in which the descent of man from the brute creation was
barely hinted at, the unscientific world began to picture a
pair of gorillas instead of Adam and Eve as the progenitors
of man ; and a host of unknowing ones began to ask where-
abouts the four or five bits of protoplasm appeared on the
earth from whom the whole stream of life upon our globe
has descended. The mistake is such an absurd one that,
resulting as it does from the literal interpretation of Darwin's
words, one rather wonders those words were not read more
literally still, in which case the first and most obvious
objection to be urged against the Darwinian theory would
be that it makes man descend from a single progenitor, not
from a pair, and descent from a single progenitor is very
diflicult to comprehend. Absurd as this is, descent from a
single pair is, for one who knows anything about biological
laws, altogether as difficult to accept as descent from a single
ancestor, whether male or female.

But the fact is that no one who has studied Darwin's chief
works (valuable almost as much for what they teach respect-
ing evolution generally as for what thej' teach respecting the
Darwinian theory) can for a moment imagine that any race
whatsoever has sprung from a single pair, or even from a
small number of progenitors. When he speaks of an
ancestor, he means always an ancestral race. The ancestral
anthropoid ape, for example, is not a single ape or a single
pair, but that particular race of apes whose qualities, com-
bined with the qualities of their environment, and eventually
modified by the varying conditions of that environment,
resulted in progressive changes by which the lowest race or
races of man were developed.

The question as to the single or multiple origin of man
which has been discussed among biologists has not been
whether man descended from one pair or from many thou-
sands of paii-s, but whether the present races of man all
descended from one race of anthropoid apes or from several
such races. On this last point there is room for discussion ;
on the former none. Aiiy one who considers the striking
resemblance between certain of the least lovely among the
African negroes and those unlovely African apes — the
gorilla and the chimpanzee — will be dispcsed to credit some
of the African tribes with descent from a race of African
apes akin both to the gorilla and to the chimpanzee, but
with superior opportunities of development toward the man-
like type. In like manner the orang-outang and the gibbon
ape may be regarded as nearer akin to the anthropoid
ancestors of the aboriginal inhabitants of the East Indian
Islands than any other apes now known to us. The ances-
tral apes from whom the savage progenitors of the Aryan,
Semitic, and Turanian races were descended, seem to have
left no descendants, nor have any of their near kindred; but
the time may one day come when their fossil remains will be
detected.

Possibly, if recent suggestions respecting the origin of the
Aryan races may be accepted, we shall find the fossil ances-
tors of our own di\4sion of the human family in Finland.
But it may well be that, as is urged by many Darwinians,
the race whence gorillas and chimpanzees, oraugs, gibbons.

88

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1888.

and other anthropoid apes, including the progenitor of
ancestral savage man, were developed, was one ; and these
diverse forms resulted from the effects of environment and
natural selection laading to the survival of the fittest.

In any case we must remember this, that even if we
regard men and existing apes as directly descended from a
common ancestral race, we must recognise not merely the
probability but the certainty that all the races of apes have
changed as much from that ancestral type as man has, or as
have all races of men if we regard Caucasian, Semite,
Nubian, Malay, and Polynesian as races having each their
origin from some definite section of the primeval anthropoid
stock. Even if the gorilla is the nearest among our ape
cousins, it by no means follows that there have not been
several races which— descended from the same common
stock — would have been far nearer to man, had not circum-
stances led to their extinction. And whichever, even
among such races, had been nearest to us if continued till
now, would still probably have shown about twice the
divergence which the common ancestral race bad undergone
on its progress towards man, since its progress towards that
ape race (as it would now be) would have involved as much
divergence in one direction as its progress towards man had
involved in the other.

When we consider the real way in which Darwin re-
garded the development of a new race, and compare it with
the way in which Professor Miiller regards man as descended
from a single pair, we shall recognise on the one hand the
impossibility of a single pair being arrived at (except in a
dying-out race), and on the other the impossibility of a single
pair, even if of the most stalwart frame and of the soundest
constitution, becoming the progenitors of a thriving race.

A new race is only developed when an old race which has
perhaps continued long without change is exposed to new
conditions, owing to some change in the environment.
Then, and then only, comes into action the principle of the
survival of the fittest (for when the conditions have long
been unchanged, the bulk of the community are well
fitted to survive). Now the very nature of the doctrine of
the survival of the fittest requires that there should be
many of the more fit or less fit, or of the more or less unfit,
on whom the environment should exert its selective in-
fluence.

Ob.serve that if the influences of the environment are too
searching, the fittest indeed survive, but those thus fit are
few, and at each successive generation the total number
diminishes until extinction ensues. On the way towards
.such extinction there might well be at last only one pair
left ; but assuredly that pair would not save the race from
extinction. The fact that a race once numerous had
dwindled to a pair would suflice to render the extinction of
the race certain. But when the influences of the environ-
ment, though potent, are not destructive, the numbers of
the race, though they may be afiected at first, are not
diminished in the long run ; and so soon as the process of
development, whatever it may be, which is necessary to fit
the race for its surroundings, has been accomplished, the
race will begin to increase and thrive. So that the modified
race resulting from the principle of natural selection will be
numerous and thriving even at the beginning of its career,
and gi-ow more numerous while the conditions remain un-
changed, to be again sifted out in some degree with further
change in the developments, yet always eventually to grow
and thrive — progressing towards greater and greater corre-
spondence with its altered environment.

So much is true of all races developed by the process of
natural selection. Many races necessarily perish in the
process. But the principle of the sur\nval of the fittest
applies to races as to individuals. And so far as the

biological problems actually before us are concerned, we
have to consider only the i-aces which have survived, not
those which have died out.

Taking man, a race which, whether his origin was single
or multiple, has most assuredly survived, we see that, what-
ever the conditions under which that particular race or
those particular races which preceded savage man existed,
there arose in some way a struggle for existence through
changes in the surrounding conditions. This struggle
caused some anthropoid creatures, very great in number,
very thriving in habitudes, and well fitted to withstand
change, to undergo marked development through the opera-
tion of natural selection, in such sort as to become men —
uncouth, cave-dwelling, tree-climbing — in fine, savage, but
still very certainly men. Besides those qualities, absolutely
essential to their survival, the primeval anthropoids from
whom man descended must have been very numerous,
whether they belonged to one race and were to give birth
to all varieties of men, or to several races, and were to give
birth severally to several distinct human races. Not other-
wise can a healthy, thriving oS"spring-race be even imagined,
except by the operation of miracle, which science (never
seeing miracles in operation) very properly and completely
rejects.

Thus, while a numerous and a healthful race was reached
before man began, from which race man was to be developed
— not by the dying out of all save a pair, but by the sur.
vival of the fittest by hundreds of thousands — since the
descent of the human or any other race from a single
pair is, in fact, entirely inconsistent with all which expe-
lience has taught us — man may have descended from one
ancestor, meaning one ancestral type, or from several, as is
in my judgment (viewing the matter mathematically) alto-
gether the more probable. But that man can have descended
from a single pair is disproved doubly, first by the feet that,
along the line of biological descent under crucial conditions
of environment, no single healthful pair can ever have
been reached, and secondly by the circumstance that if a
healthful pair were artificially selected (all other membera of
the jace being destroyed) to start a race, no healthy race
could po.ssibly descend from them (excepting always by
miracle).

And now having attained a stage where some advanced
form of anthropoid ape is likely to undergo a marked pro-
cess of development, not necessarily including the acquisi-
tion of some kind of language, we see how the developing
race might, as the very condition of their existence, have to
form societies for mutual protection. Men, even in the
beginning of their existence as such, and therefore their
immediate progenitors, can never have been physically com-
paiable with suiTounding races. I am aware that the
gorilla is so comparable ; but that shows merely how he has
diverged from the ancestral ape from whom man descended.
Along the human line of descent social qualities were
developed as essential to successful existence : the gorilla
and kindred apes have made their successful struggle for
strength through mere strength ; and probably they have
paid for it by a process of intellectual degradation as marked
as the process of intellectual elevation by which their kins-
folk, men, have secured survival, and eventually thriving
sui'vival by social interrelations.

Imagine, then, a race of arboreal apes, weaker and gentler
than the gorilla or orang-outang (even than these probably
were before their present powerful frames were developed),
and suppose such a race exposed to a struggle for existence
constantly increasing in stringency, owing to the develop-
ment of swift and strong carnivorous races around them, or
in their midst. We may even perhaps imagine, further, the
gradual retreat of this race of Pithecanthropoids, or ape-

February 1, 188S.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE *

89

men, from their forest domain to regions less densely
■wooded, and where they would soon be driven to seek
shelter from the weather and from their enemies in caves, or
to dig out sheltering homes in such places as they found
suitable. To such a race, so circumstanced, three things
would be chiefly necessary for safety — (1) the development
of such reasoning powers as so advanced a race of apes may
be fairly supposed to have possessed, since even the apes
which have survived to our time, chiefly through mere
brute strength, possess some reasoning power; (2) the
development of the habit of using such weapons of defence
as stones and sticks, which would involve a tendency not so
much to the bipedal as to the bimanous condition ; and
(3) the development of such means of communication
among themselves as would enable tliem to act in concert
against their enemies, to give warning of the foe's approach,
to give the signal of attack upon him, and when necessary
to give suitable note of preparation for propeily manreuvred
retreat.

These necessities of a race so circumstanced are precisely
such as the Darwinian theory regards as essential for the
development of the i-equired qualities. Those among the
race who were dullest of apprehension, or least ready to
make up by the use of sticks and stones for their naturally
defenceless condition, or least prepared to make or to under-
stand signals, vocal or otherwise, would inevitably fall
victims in greater numbers to the attacks of their various
enemies than those who were quick to reason, ready with
their hands, and apt at signalling. Probably even the
influence of weather would tend to destroy more of those
who were inferior in the qualities considered than of those
who excelled in them.

The dying out of the inferior in greater numbers would
neces-sarily lead to the constant development of these
(|ualities in higher and higher degree — natural selection
operating as certainly in this respect as artificial selection,
though more slow])-.*

That reasoning powers far in advance of those possessed
by the most intelligent apes of to-day might be thus
developed by the continual selection of the cleverer members
of a family and the dying out (relatively) of the less apt and
ingenious, can scarcely be doubted when we consider how
under artificial selection the intelligence of many classes of
animals has been increased. That readiness in the use of
the hands and a gradually increasing aptitude for going on
two feet would also be developed, corresponds, of course,
with what we know even of those apes which have had
comparatively small occasion for handiness in the use of
weapons or missiles.

Professor Midler and others deny the possibility of any
sort of language being develo])ed from such systems of
signalling and intercommunication as would be necessary
among a race of apes circumstanced as we have supposed.
Yet when met by the ev-idence that the man of Neanderthal
was almost certainly mute. Professor Miiller admits that
non-speaking men developed into men with the power of
speech ; and no difficulties in the problem of the develop-
ment of speech from non-speaking animals on their way to
fully speaking men are greater that we recognise when we
consider the development of man as he is to-day from the

* Professor Muller strangely enough speaks of " natural selection "
as a mere name, nowhere inquiring whether the sorting out of
certain members of a race indicated in the Darwinian theory
actually takes place or not, but entering into a preposterous argu-
ment about the word " selection " implying reasoning. It would be
as reasonable, when a physicist speaks of the selective absorption of
the spectroscope, to inquire not into the facts presented for con-
sideration, but into the question whether a spectroscope can
properly be said to select, which involves reason.

unspeaking men of La Naulette. Observe, also, that the
non-speaking ape did not, it appears, develop into speaking
man, but into a mute creature lower than the lowest savage
of our own time. The development of speech came after
the development of man from the ape.

Professor Muller 's argument that apes do not now develop
speech has, then, no weight whatever, since no race of apes
seems ever to have developed into speaking man, but only
into a race of mute savages, such as the men of Neanderthal.
Besides, the most advanced apes of to-da)' have probably
degenerated in intelligence from their ancestry, while even
those their more intelligent and less brutal ancestry were
less intelligent and more brutal than the contemporary
ancestrv of man.

METEORIC COSMOGONY.

HE following letter appeared in the Times of
December 22 : —

I am not on my own account apt to be
concerned by questions of priority, which
indeed seem to me always somewhat puerile;
but there is so much in the general theory
advanced in the Times of November 18 as
Mr. Lockyer's which has been for )-ears the common pro-
perty of science, that I must not allow my own accidental
connection with a portion of the subject to prevent me from
calling attention to the just claims of others.

The researches of Mayer, Thomson (Sir William), Helm-
holtz, and others involve (implicitly, if not, as in some cases,
explicitly) the theory of the formation of systems like our
solar system by processes of meteoric aggregation. I pointed
this out in the preface to the first edition of my " Other
Worlds," dated Alay 1870, noticing at the same time, I
think fairly, that the line of reasoning followed in the
chapter on " Comets and Meteors " in that work is new. (Five
years before, in the preface to my " Saturn and its System,"
I had touched on the processes of aggregation b}' which, as
distinguished from the processes of simple condensation
imagined by Laplace, the solar system appears to have been
formed.) In particular, I there showed that all the
peculiarities of arrangement within the solar system find an
explanation in the meteoric theory, while they are left
absolute!}' unexplained by the nebular hyjiothesis.

But in reality the meteoric theory can only be accepted as
based on multitudinous researches, astronomical, physical,
and chemical, such as Mayer, Tliomson (Sir William),
Sorby, Graham, Dewar, Daubree, Meunier, Tschermak,
Helmholtz, Wright, and Newton (both of Yale College),
and others have made, combined witti spectroscopic re-
searches like those of Secchi, Miller, lluggins, Viigel, and
others. Doubtless in the paper read before the Royal
Society Mr. Lockyer must have made some important con-
tribution to one or other of these departments of research.
In the voluminous report, however, which appears in the
Times for November 18 I find only as novel the announce-
ment that meteorites already known to contain the same
elements as the sun and the stars can by suitable selection
be made to give similar spectra. This, of course, was
antecedently certain.

It is, however, satisfactory to find the theory of meteoric
aggregation supported as warmly by Mr. Lockyer as the
theory of Professor Clarke, of Cincinnati, respecting the
compound nature of the so-called elements. Such support
aflbrds strong evidence that the theory is growing in public
favour, as well as in the approval of men of science.
Believe me, faithfully yours,

IvICHARL) A. PrOCTOB.

Corona Lodge, Orange Lake, Florida : Dec. 9.

90

KNOWLEDGE -

[Feeruary 1, 1888.

(g 0 Sf S( I p.

By Eiciiard A. Proctor.

A coRREsroNDENT kiiiilly sends me tbe following cheerful
note : —

I have been in communication with a competent authority upon
the subject of the assertions respecting Osiris and Horus made by
3'ou in Knowledge for October 188G, p. 346. This gentleman
(sic .') says of these remarlis : "The statement in question is utterly
false. It is not founded upon a mistake, but is a deliberate fraud
— which can hardly be called a y^i'tfus one. It is a lie, and nothing
else." Further on in his letter he says: "The writer" (I did not
name you, sir, nor your magazine) " of the passages quoted is a
deliberate liar, and there is no other judgment to be passed upon
him."

As I am anxious to examine the evidence adduced by you for
myself, I should feel greatly obliged if you would furnish me with
your authorities. The statements I wish verified are that Osiris
and Horus were virgin-born ; that a star appeared in the east on
December 25 ; that Osiris was at that time e.xhibited in effigy (will
you please give the exact reference to tbe " Chronicles of Alexan-
dria") ; and that Horus w.as worshipped at Christmas time. I may
also add that I have been unable to (ind the name of Pigord, from
whom you quote in the foot-no^e, in any biographical dictionary.
These particulars would, dear sir, bs very acceptable.

* * *

I regret much that I aui unable to give my polite corre-
spondent the exact reference to the " Chronicles of Alex-
andria," a work which I do not possess, and believe to have
been non-existent — save in certain passages by ancient
authors — for many centuries. Mr. Bonwick, who refers to
the Chronicles in his " Egyptian Belief and Modern Thought"
(published by Kegan Paul & Co.), see pp. 143 and 1.57, may
be able to tell my correspondent moreon this point. Pigord
(misprinted Pigord) is quoted by lliggins in his " Anacalyp-
sis," vol. ii., p. 102. As another authority I would name
M. Le Clerk de Septelemes's " Religion of the Ancient
Greeks," p. 214, where it is mentioned that the ancient
Egyptians fixed the pregnancy of Isis (the Qaeen of
Heaven, and Virgin Mother of the Saviour Horus) in the
last days of March, and assigned the commemoration of her
delivery to the last day of December. For the star, see
article in this number on the " Star of Bethlehem."

* * *

As for the virgin birth of both Horus aird O.siris, it has
been universally admitted that Isis, the mother of Horus,
and Neith, the mother of Osiris, were virgin goddesses ;
Seb, the father of Osiris, was simply the celestial fire, and
Osiris in turn only in a mystical sense and as Deity the
parent of Horus. Both Horus and Osiris are called " self-
begotten " as well as '" virgin-born," their mothers being
deities. I do not profess to be an authority, however, about
such asserted proces.ses, whether of self conception or of
incarnation. They cannot be regarded as belonging either
to history or to exact science.

* * *

It has been suggested by Mariette Bey, as formerly by
the Abbe Dupuis, that Osiris was the nocturnal sun, Horus
the sun of day. Volumes might be written, indeed, about
the various suggestions which have been made respecting
the Egyptian deities. I should have to refer niy correspond-
ent to a whole library of books for fall information on such
points, but it is abundantly clear that both Osiris and
Horus were solar deities, and, like all solar deities, regarded
as virgin born, and brought forth at the time of the winter
solstice — determined in each age by the heliacal rising of
some .special star — with a number of other details reproduced
again and again in the histories of long-departed heroes or
teachers, even when the original lives of these had had
nothing to do with the sun's birth and death and resurrec-
tion. These are a.scertained facts, be their interpretation
what it may.

I HAD almost forgotten to refer to my correspondent's
" competent authority's " personal comments. I am not sure
whether they belong or not to the order of denunciation
typified by the .amusing curse, " May God confound him
for his theory of irregular verbs." If this "competent
authority " does not ajiply to me in this sense, and for some
kindred no-reason, an amusing curse, he is at least, like
Artemus Ward's kangaroo, " an amoosin' cuss " himself.
My correspondent should cultivate his acquaintance — not,
however, as an authority, but as au awftd example.
Hitherto (let me suggest very gently) my correspondent
does not seem to have learned all that the warning example of
this particular " Helot in drink " might have taught him ;
or he would hardly have quoted remarks so singularly rude,
outside their absurdity, as " this gentleman's." He will
doubtless be wiser one day.

* * *

I>f reply to a correspondent (Mr. J. E. F\,oose), J! rsf, I do
not think the sun will ever be inhabited, but I do not
know; secondli/, the central orb of the universe, if such an
orb there is, needs no centripetal force to keep it in its place,
but I do not think there is such an orb, though here again
I do not know ; thirdli/, I suppose when our system dies it
will still obey the laws of gravity, seeing that a dead lion is
as obedient to these as a live dog ; and fourthly, I cannot
tell why our earth's shining in past ages on an inhabited
moon, if our earth ever did so shine, is to be represented
" for the sake of argument " by " the reversed position " of a
globe fifty times larger than ours (why larger?) shining upon
the earth. There i.?, however, no "scientific opinion about
the moon's having been inhabited," for " knowledge is of
things we see."

I HAVE received several interesting and valuable com-
munications respecting Mr. Faith's article about " Collisions
at Sea." One of these I published last month ; another I
publish this month ; and I have still a third which will
interest readers of Knowledge.

* * *

Americans of sense are relieved to find that those in
their own country who took interest in Sullivan are
matched by at least an equal proportion of persons in the
old country taking interest in one who would be almost a
match for a gorilla. Yet how much more interesting if the
gorilla itself could be trained to pugilism !

* * *

The Saturday Review remarks of me in a recent issue
that I do not love it, while — Safurdai/ Eeviler though it
has been called by the profane — it dislikes nothing and no
one. I dislike many things myself : among others, untruth
and unfairness. But to dislike a paper or a magazine would
be preposterous. I know enough of journalism to be able
to distinguish an article written by a student and a gentle-
man from one written by a charlatan and a humbug, or
from another written by a soured " old woman " of either
sex, even though all three articles appear in the same paper'.
Averaging my ideas about the Saturday Revieio as I have
had occasion to regard it personally, I have rather a liking
for it, for I have had occasion to observe in its pages —
(1) Ple.asant and strong notices of my work ; (2) pleasant,
though unfortunately weak, notices ; (3) unpleasant notices,
iLseful as giving me an opportunity of correction (with or with-
out use of the thong) ; and, lastly, some notices, so manifestly
unfair or so femininely spiteful that they were their own
severest corrective, and could do me nothing but good,
whether noticed or left alone. [I personally very seldom
adopt the afl'ectation of " letting abuse alone " — I " go for
it," as my American friends say, enjoying the work heartily,
and striving to do it thoroughly.]

Febrcaey 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

91

Ix the Jatakas, or Buddhist Birth Stories, so called be-
cause they narrate the exploits of the Buddha in the 550
births through which he passed before attaining Buddha-
hood, there is a story called the " Flight of the Beasts,"
which the recent ridiculous scare in Birmingham — the
" Brummagem scare," as we may name it — calls to mind.

* * *

This Daddabha Jataka tells of a hare who, sitting under
a cocoanut sapling, thought to himself, " If this earth were
to come to an end, where should I be, I wonder ? " At that
moment a bilra-fruit fell upon a leaf of the sapling, and so
startled the hare that he scampered away, thinking that the
event was really happening. Another hare, seeing him run,
and learning the cause, started off; then a third and a foui-th
hare took to flight without knowing the reason, and so on
until one hundred thousand hares in like manner followed
their example. Likewise all the other animals who .saw
them, asking the meaning, went at headlong speed, and as
the Bodisat chanced to see them, and heard what fear
caused their flight, he bethought himself how to save them
from destruction. So rushing with a lion's speed, he out-
stripped them, and then roaring a lion's roar, so that they
halted aflrighted, he asked them why they ran. And the
elephants replied that they knew not what was the sign of
the end of the world, but that the lions knew ; and in like
manner one beast after another answered until they came
to the hares, and last of all to the first hare, who told the
Bodisat of the falling of the bilra-fruit. The Bodisat then
took the hare on his back, and bounded along to the forest
where grew the sapling, when, as it chanced, a bilra-fruit
fell upon the sapling, and the Bodisat returned with the
hare to the assembled beasts, whom he dispersed with words
of comfort.

At Birmingham the bilra fruit fell in the shape of an
astrologer's propbecj- that dire things would happen on
January 11 by reason of the conjunction of Mars and
Uranus. The old women (were they, after all, hares en-
chanted for the nonce into human shape 1) scampered to the
police stations, and, foiling to get support or comfort from
the constables, clubbed their pennies together and bought
Bibles. Others stayed in their beds, their faith in the
prediction confirmed by the Cimmerian fog that enveloped
the town. And thLs is a.d. 1S88 1

* * *

OcR readers may like to know that Messrs. Longmans
announce the publication of Mr. Edward Clodd's " Story of
Creation " in the early part of this month. The substance
of the book appeared in this Journal, but the chapters have
teen revised and in great part rewritten, while the text has
the advantage of being illustrated by numerous woodcuts
and diagrams. The price of the book is six shillings.

<Rebietu0.

The Sinclairs of Enjlanl. (London : Triibner iC' Co.
1887.) — Notwithstanding his bad grammar and worse con-
struction, it is impossible to be angry with the anonymous
author of this book. His overwhelming enthusiasm for his
subject is such as to disarm criticism. W.os there ever, in
the world's historj-, the equal of this Sinclair family of his ?
If so, it will have to be sought for in the Heroic Ages.
Descended from Odin, god of the Dacians, a Prankish
branch of the Sinclairs settles in Neustria, allies itself by
marriage with the family of Xorse Rollo " the Ganger," and
takes high position in the new Duchy of Normandy. No

fewer than nine of its members cross the Channel with theii-
cousin, Duke William, and fight by his side at the battle of
Hastings ; eight of these are rewarded with possessions and
earldoms all over the conquered country, and become
foundei-s of the Sinclaii-s of England ; the ninth goes north,
becomes Steward of Scotland (predecessor in ofiice, and per-
haps ancestor of the royal Stuarts), and ancestor of the
Sinclairs of Scotland. As time goes on more Norman kins-
men crowd into England till there is hardly a noble family
there with which they do not ally themselves. And now
the climax of their gre.atness arrives. When Henry I. died
the real heir to the English throne was— a Sinclair I In
the eloquent words of the author, " Had fees not been
partible, even to kingdoms, and had the Salique law been
preserved (both .solvents avoided in matters of private estate
to wonderful extent), the monarch of England now would
be of this lineage, as the legitimate heir to Henry I., the
last male of the Norman dynasty on the throne. The
Plantagenets, Tudors, and Stuarts were, on principles of
just primogeniture and true male consanguinity, interlopers.
Since Henry schemed for his daughter Matilda, the crown
of England has been the prize of adventurers, and not too
high type even of that class. The FuJcs, or Plantagenets,
were a lot of Gallic robbei-s, not of the gallant Viking, but
of the common thief complexion : the Tudors were the fruit
of a mesalliance, of a queen of England, daughter of a French
mad king, to a little brewer of Wales (and they have left
sufficient proofs of their Welsh low origin by essentially
weak, cruel, immoi-al, Celtic tyrannical inefliciency, Eliza-
beth, the greatest by far of them, being, in all human, if
not legal, probability, not Celtic at all, but an energetic
p]nglish London Bullen) ; the Stuarts were underling, provin-
cial, and upstart, in the exact meanings of those words ; but
the Scandinavian Eollo line were royal time out of mind,
and their conquests have been all of the royal order. . . .
Nothing better than, nothing equal to, them, has ever walked
the globe." What a loss the English people have sustained
without knowing it ! After such a singular example of self-
abnegation on the part of these Sinclairs, we are not sur-
prised to find that the family has gradually died out in
England until, at the present time, an EnglLsh Sinclair is a
rarity. But who will say that their history was not worth
writing ?

rppingham School Songs and Borth Lyrics. By
Edward Thrixg, Head-Master of LTppingham School
from 1853 to 1887. (London : T. Fisher Fnwin.) —
Addresses on Educational Subjects. By the same. — These
elegantly printed and bound books will "be hailed with plea-
sure by the Old Boys of the school whose fame its great
head-master made. Probably to them the chief interest
will be in the poems and lyrics, which teem with memory-
kindling references to the anxious time of the happy sojourn
of the school at Borth — happy to the boys, anxious to the
governors and head-master of the school, uprooted from its
ancient home, and dropped as from the clouds on the
western coast ; but to the general public the Addresses are
highly deserving of thoughtful perusal. Every schoolmaster
and every schoolmistress should study what this great master
taught. Ill could he be spared from a profession half edu-
cated, badly organised, or hardly organised at all, and with-
out a definite belief in the importance of its work.
Teachers are not minders, schools are not creches, and the
work done by the teacher is not represented in value by the
salary paid for it. Thring was pre-eminently a man who
estimated his profession highly. His ideal was high. He
appears in these pages as he was ; not a pro\-ider of cei-tain
doles of Greek or mathematics, with which, for a considera-
tion, he furnished his pupils. He did not measure them
with a Latin rule only. The complex entity known as a

92

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1888.

boy, he maintained, has many sides ; and he attacked him
on all. No boy with an evident inaptitude for classics
passed his school life on that account '' under a cloud."
Thring believed in finding out what the boy could do, and
in seeing that he did that something well. In stimulating
and guiding his clever boys, he did not neglect the dullards.
" Stars imply a dark night around ; and so it is oftentimes
with the stars of a class." The Addresses abound with
sparkling and keen allusions, and illustrations to points
tliat should be in the minds of every teacher ; and to those
of this class who have their work at heart we cordially
recommend these little volumes.

Serpent Worship and other Essays; with a Chapter on
Totemism. By C. Staniland Wake. (Cieorgo Eedway.) — ■
A great deal of nonsense has been written about Ophiolatry,
and we regret to find that this book, which displays much
industry in the collection of varied materials, is not a
common-sense contribution to the subject. It is based upon
discredited "authorities," and its conclusions are stale and
fanciful. A really scholarly work upon what is an im-
portant department of animal worship is needed, and this
Mr. Wake has not supplied.

Tlte Creator, and what iv.i may Know of the Mf.thod of
Creation. By the Rev. W. H. Dallinger, F.R.S. (T.
Woolmer.) — Dr. Dallinger's original investigations into the
minutest life-forms have placed him in the front rank of
microscopists, while his biological knowledge gives a value
to this essay which is usually lacking in expositions of evolu-
tion from reverend pens. We have read this eloquent and
able brochure with much interest, and with no small sym-
pathy, for we are not slow in feeling with its talented author
that all our ingenious explanations of processes do not touch
the mystery of origins. But we cannot understand the in-
voking of a deus ex machind to account for the now im-
passable chasm between man and brute. Such a gratuitous
assumption is probably made to render easier the passage to
certain theological dogmas concerning man which find no
support from the theory which Dr. Dallinger, as a Weslej'an
divine, hesitates to apply to the evolution of man's spiritual
nature.

Our Earth and its Story. By Dr. Robert Brown.
(Cassell &, Co.) — Dr. Brown ranks amongst our ablest and
clearest expositors of the results of science, and he brings to
the preparation of this book, which is the first volume of
what is really an elaborate treatise on physical geography,
the requisite knowledge and the skill of presentment which
invest the record of the earth's changes with vivacity and
charm. The work is well and lavishly illustrated.

The Saracens. By Arthur Oilman, M.A. (London :
T. Fisher Unwin. 1887.) In reviewing a former volume
of " The Story of the Nations " series, to which the present
work belongs — we mean Professor Vambery's "Hungary"
— we spoke of its history as capable of being epitomised
in the words " battle, murder, and sudden death." But the
horrors of Hungarian history pale before those of that of
the Saracens as told by Mr. Oilman, whose entire book is a
sequent account of the most ghastly and ruthless slaughter,
murder, treachery, violence, and deceit. As chapter after
chapter teems with accounts of hideous carnage and butchery,
our sympathy for the fiends in human form who perpetrated
it evaporates, and we can only wonder that so relatively
pure a religion as that of Islam should have bred, and been
propagated by, such a i-ace of ferocious and treacherous
ijrutes. We read on and on, in a kind of vague hops that
we may arrive at something like a peaceful settlement
among those who owed allegiance to the Cxliph, but in
vain ; and the exclamation of the villain in the melodriima of
the old Victoria Theatre, " Wot, more bel-ood ! " rises (in a

more orthographical form) to our lips as we turn each sue-
cessive page. But, malgre the revolting nature of his
material, Mr. Oilman has given us one of the best popular
accounts of the life and acts of Mahomet that has yet
appeared, and has further shown how much more rapidly
and effectually a new form of faith may be propagated with
the sword than by any amount of missionary etfort.

Electrical Distribution by Alternating Currents and
Transformers. By Rankin Kennedy. (London : H.
Alabaster, Gatehouse, <fe Co. 1887.)— Mr. Kennedy's small
work is valuable, as containing information not to be found
in any of our ordinary electrical text-books, and forms a
useful addition to the library of the student of applied
electricity. If the electric light is ever to compete with gas
upon anything like a large scale, the cost of its production
must be materially diminished, and the more the means of
supply are simplified, the nearer we shall be to attaining
that indispensable end. The most recent devices for ob-
taining alternating currents and the construction of trans-
formers are described and fully illustrated in Mr. Kennedy's
little book. There is a very good chapter, too, on measure-
ments. The extent to which the volume is illustrated may
be gathered from the intimation that no less than thirty-
eight engravings appear in its sixty pages.

A Revised Currency System. By H. Bull. Th3 Insta-
bility of Gold as a Standard of Value. Same Author.
(London : Hamilton, Adams, & Co. 1887.) — All interested
in the depreciated value of silver coin may read Mr. Bull's
two essays with advantage. That a system should be
perpetuated by which, to take a single illustration, soldiers
aud civilians serving in India are paid in rupees, such
nominal rupee being only in reality worth some Is. 5d.,
seems nothing short of a scandal. Unfortunately, quackery
is as rife in monetary theory as it is in medicine ; and the
present chances of the deposition of gold as the sole standard
of value in the British Empire seem but remote indeed.

Lairs and Definitions connected with Chemistry and Heat.
By R. O. Durrant, M.A., F.C.S. (London : Rivingtons.
1887.) — This remarkably well-written little volume is not a
text-book in the ordinary acceptation of the term, but rather
a companion to the usual chemical text-books, heat being
chiefly treated of in relation to chemical work. It will be
found very handy by candidates preparing for examination.
The descriptions of various tests and methods of analysis
should be particularly useful to such candidates.

We have upon our table Books II. and IV. of Moffatt's
History Readers (London : Moffatt & Paige), on " Early
Eogland " and " Modern England " respectively, in which
a large quantity of historical information is conscientiously
boiled down for the benefit of children attending elementai-y
schools ; also Moffatt's German Course, by G. H. Williams,
M.A. (same publishers), sensible and practical ; Results of
Rain and River Observations made in Neio South Wales, dx. ;
Notes itpon Floods in the River Darlin;/ ; and Jfotes upon
Floods in Lake George, in which Mr. H. C. Russell, the
Government Astronomer for New South Wales, continues
to add to the existing vast accumulated mass of .statistics of
the meteorological phenomena of that colony ; Bench Book
for Test-Tube Work in Chemistry, by H. T. Lilley, M.A.
(London : Hamilton, Adams, & Co.), very handy for
reference.

71ie Freshwater Fishes of Europe. By H. G. Seeley,
F.R.S., F.O.S., &c. (London : Cassell &. Co. 1886.)—
Professor Seeley may fairly be congratulated on the value
of his late.st contribution to our knowledge of ichthyology,
inasmuch as in the volume before us he describes the whole
of the freshwater fishes of Europe for the first time,

Febkuary 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

93

systematically. His profusely and beautifullj' illustrated
work is encyclopjedic in its character, and should be upon
the sheh-es of every student of the natural history and
structure of the inhabitants of our rivers, lakes, and streams.
And while the naturalist will find it an admirable work of
reference, the angler will derive much information of the
greatest value from its pages, and the gonrmet gain many
hints of modes of adding to his gastronomic pleasures. The
variety of the fish which people fresh water will come almost
as a revelation to the multitude who regard trout, jack, roach,
dace, perch, and eels as constituting the major proportion,
if not the entire bulk, of its denizens ; for they will learn
something of the history and structure of that strange
survival from palaeozoic times, the sturgeon ; of the shad ;
of such rudimentary forms of creatures as the lampem, kc. :
while those whose interest in fish may be said to centre in
" little dinners at Greenwich " will discover that their
favourite whitebait is nothing in the world but the fry cf
the herring. Doubtless Professor Seeley's work will become, as
it deserves to become, fhe text-book of the subject to which
it is devoted. The classification adopted is, in the main,
t'ae well-known and excellent one of Dr. Giinther.

Thi? Realisfic Tem'h iinj of (ieoiiraphy. By AViLLi A>t .Jolly,
F.R.S.E., F.G.S. (London : Blackie k Son.) — A more ad-
mirably common-sense little book than Mr. Jolly's has not
recently appeared. It ought to be in the hands of every
teacher of geography in the kingdom.

The Physiological Effects of Artificial Sleep. By Dr.

Mathias Eoxri. (London : Bailliere. Tindall, i Cox.

1887.) — Dr. Both has great faith in hypnotism, or
artificially induced somnambulism, as a cure for various
forms of neurotic disease, and in his small pamphlet gives
a selection of cases to show how wonderfully efficacious this
mode of treatment has proved. His brochure is worthy of
stud\- by all labouring under any form of nervous complaint,
from the but too familiar neuralgia to those more obscure
species of disorder in which the mind is more or less affected.

Humanism versm Theism is a series of letters by
Egbert Lewixs, M.D. (London: Freethought Publishing
Company. 1887.) — There is no God but Lswins, andXaden
is his prophet, may fairly be held to summarise the contents
of this queer little tract. Mr. Montague Tigg in " Martin
Chuzzlewit " " didn't believe that he didn't believe, hang
him if he did," and Dr. Lewins seems drifting rapidly in
the Tiggian direction.

Pneumatics. By Charles Tomlixsox, F.R.S., F.C.S.
Fourth Edition, enlarged. (London : Crosby Lockwood ife
Co. 1887.) — Few writers in the present day possess the art
of popular scientific exposition in a gi-eater degiee than Mr.
Tomlinson ; and in this fourth and enlarged edition of his
well-known treatise on pneumatics, in " Weale's Series," he
worthily sustains his reputation for rendering somewhat
recondite physical questions easily intelligible to the reader
ignorant of mathematics.

The Practical Engineers Handbook. By Walter
Hlttox, C. and M.E. (London : Crosby Lockwood & Co.
1887.) — Arranged in a very convenient form for reference,
Mr. Hutton's excellent cyclopaedia of modern engineering
workshop pi-actice leaves nothing to be desired. Amoly
illustrated by no less than 371 woodcuts, and brought down
in every department to the latest date, this is a volume
which should be upon the shelves of everyone engaged in
any of the numerous branches of modern mechanical
engineering.

The Modern Treatment of Disease by the System of
Massage. By Thos. S. Dowse. M.D., F.R.C.P. (London :
Griffith, Farran, Okeden, k WeLsh. 1887.)— Among the ;

latest of medical " fads " the treatment of disease by
rubbing, pounding, and kneading the human body occupies
a conspicuous place, and in the volume before us Dr. Dowse
instructs us in the methods of '-effleurage," "'petrissage,"
" tapotement," and so forth. This used, we imagine, to be
called sham-pooing, but possibly we have arrived at the real
thing at last. If, though, we ever, for our sins, were com-
pelled to undergo this peculiar process, we think that, like
Sarah Battle, we should prefer " a quiet rubber."

Recent Advances in Ehctricity. Edited by Hexrt
Greer. (New York. 1887.)— In a series of articles by the
editor of the Ekctrician, Professor Thomson, and Professor
Edison, an account is given of all the more recent advances
in applied electricity ; and we have illustrated descriptions
of the latest devices for electrical storage, of the method of
telegi-aphing from a train in motion, of a navigable balloon
or air-ship electrically propelled (with a cheerful engraving
of the destruction of a town by shells or bombs dropped
from the car thereof), of Mr. Edison's contrivance for the
production of electricit)' direct from fuel, and so on. This
pamphlet will be found useful by all engaged, either prac-
tically or theoretically, in the study of electrical science
and art.

Bulletin of the United States Fish Commission. Vol.
VI., for 1886. (Washington. 1887.)— In the 471 pages
which make up this volume will be found an enormous mass
of detail in connection with the breeding, rearing, catching,
curing, and even cooking fish, derived from information
supplied from all parts of the world. The interest and
importance of this will become apparent when we reflect
upon the incalculable wealth of food which fish might
supply, and to how very limited an extent we avail ourselves
of it. There is a certain fitness in our receipt of this
valuable work at the time when an Anglo-American Com-
mission on International Fishery is sitting in the United
States.

The Microscope in Theory and Practice. Translated from
the German of Professor Carl Xaegeli and Professor S.
ScuwEXDENER. (Loudon : Swan Sonnensehein, Lowrey, ife
Co. 1887.) — This translation of a portion of Xaegeli and
Schwendener's well-known work (partly made by Mr. Crisp,
though mainly by Mr. J. Mayall, jun.) may supplement
our leading English text-books, but will assuredly never
supersede them. At almost inordinate length, its anthora
enter into details a large proportion of which are to be found
in such books as Dr. Heath's admirable " Geometrical Optics,"
to the exclusion of matter of much moi-e real interest to —
because le=s accessible by — the observer with the microscope
proper. The small part of the volume devoted to technical
microscopy is huddled up to make room for all this and
cognate matter on polarisation. The portion on testing the
optical power of the instrument would be useful to our
opticians, but for the fact that the)- happen to be familiar with
it already. The really valuable part of the book is that
which is explanatory of microscopic vision, and which treats
of the theory of microscopic observation generally. All
those who conceive that the images of the markings on a
diatom are produced in the same manner as that of a church
spire in a landscape viewed with the naked ej-e, should study
this portion of the work before us carefully. The}' may do
so profitably and with advantage.

Sprains. By C. W. Mansell Moulix, M.A., M.D.,
F.R.C.S. (London: H. K. Lewis. 1887.)— It is a
common saying that a simple fracture is not half so
had as a serious sprain, although undoubtedly in a large
number of cases the gravity of the latter form of injury is
too much underrated. As Dr. Moulin says in his preface

94

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Febeuaey 1, 1888.

to the excellent and thoroughly practical little volume now
before us, " It has been sniil, and not untruly, that in all
probability half the t-rippleil limbs and stitiened joints that
are met with every day date their starting-point from the
occurrence of some apparently trivial accident of this
description." It is, then, to a practically exhaustive account
of the nature and treatment of this grave form of lesion
that our author devotes his work ; and, although addressed
primarily to the surgeon, it is written in such perspicuous
and untechnical language that the layman may read it both
with pleasure and protit. Dr. Moulin advocates more active
modes of treatment (including galvanism, massage, pressure,
&c.) than those ordinarily .adopted ; and no one can, we
think, rise from the perusal of his book without being con-
vinced that his ideas on this subject are justified alike by
science and by common-sense.

Sound, Light, and Heat. By Mark R. Wright.
(London : Longmans, Green, & Co. 1887.) — Earth Knoic-
ledge. By W. Jerome Harrison, F.G.S., and H. New-
land Wakefield. (London : Blackie & Siou.)^Mineralog>/.
By Frank Rutley, F.G.S. (London : T. Mm-h j.)— Euclid,
Book II. Arranged by A. E. Layng, M.A. (London :
Blackie & Son. 1887.) — JVew Explmiatory Headers,
No. YI. Geography for Standards I. to VII. (London :
Moffatt ife Paige.) — Problematic Arithmetic. Edited by
Rev. A. D. Capel, M.A. (London : Joseph Hughes.)
— The mass of educational works whose titles we have
grouped above are all more or less directed to the fur-
therance of that vicious system of examination whose
ultimate result can only be that of cramming the rising
generation with everything and teaching them nothing.
The first three books on our list, however, are I'eally too
good for their professed purpose. Mr. Wright has boiled
down Tyndall, Sedley Taylor, and Ganot in a fashion calcu-
lated really to impart a considerable amount of sound infor-
mation. The " Earth Knowledge " of Messrs. Harrison and
Wakefield is an honest and readable treatise on the bastard
science of " physiography," and as absolutely superior to a
volume bearing the latter title, recently issued from South
Kensington itself, as it is possible to imagine. Mr. Butley's
" Mineralogy," too, contains a very large amount of informa-
tion indeed compressed between its two covers. The rest of
the works specified demand no special notice.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR FEBRUARY.

By F.R.A.S.

[IE sunspot minimum having now passed, tbe
ob.<!orver m.av scrutinise tbe solar disc for spots
and facul:L' on every available opportunity, with a
fair prospect of occasionally picking up both.
Tbe zodiacal light may be seen, somewhat to tbe
south of west, after sunset, towards the end of
tbe month. The night sky will be found de-
picted on map ii. of "The Stars in their Seasons."
Minima of Algol (" The Stars in their Se.asons,"
map xii.) will occur at lb. 30m. a.m. on the 10th; at lOh. 19m.
P.M. on tbe 12tb ; at 7h. 8m. P.M. on tbe 15th ; and at other
dates less convenient for tbe amateur for whom these notes
are intended. Mercury is an evening star all through February,
and attains bis greatest elongation east of the sun (18° 5') on tbe
16th. About this time he may be detected close to tbe horizon
after sunset with tbe naked eye. He will be over a point to the
south of wesf. Venus is a morning star, but is becoming more and
more insignificant. Moreover, she is very badly placed for the
observer. Neither Mars nor .Jupiter has yet come into view during
the working hours of the ordinary amateur's night. Saturn, how-
ever, is visible from sunset to sunrise, and is a glorious object for
the observer with the telescope. He is in a blank part of Cancer
to the west of tbe Prsesepe ("Tbe Stars in their Seasons," map ii.).
Uranus is, for our present purpose, invisible. Neptune is in that
void part of the sky some G° south of the Pleiades ("Tlie Stars in

their Seasons," map i.). Tbe moon enters her Last Quarter at
7h. 25-8m. p.m. on the 4th; is New at lib. 52om. P.M. on the 11th;
enters her First Quarter at lb. 59-2m. A.M. on the 20th, and is Full
2 1 minutes before noon on the 27th. She will occult three stars
during February, but one of them only at an hour when the
phenomenon is fairly observable. Tliis is tbe 6th magnitude star
rf' Cancri, which will disappear at tbe moon's d.ark limb on tbe
night of tbe 21th at 9h. 30m., at an angle of 112° from tbe moon's
vertex, reappearing at her bright limb at 10b. 28m. P.M., at a
vertical antle of 226°. At noon to-d,iy tbe moon is in Virgo
("The Seasons Pictured," pl.ate xsv.), which constellation she
quits at 4h. A.M. on the 4th for Libra (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxvi.). Travelling across Libra, she, at 8h. 30m. P.M. on tbe
Gth, arrives at the western edge of the narrow northern spike of
Scorpio. When, by 5 o'clock tbe next morning, she has crossed this,
it is to emerge in Opbiucbus. Her passage through Ophiucbus is
completed by 8b. 30m. P.M. on the 7th, at which bom- she passes
into Sagittarius. Her journey over Sagittarius terminates at
4b. A.M. on the 10th, .and she enters Capricornus (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxi.). She rem.ains just 48 hours in the constella-
tion last named, and at 4h. A.M. on the 12tli quits it for Aquarius.
Here she continues until Ob. 30m. A.M. on the 14th, when she enters
Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). Travelling through
that part of Pisces where it is conterminous with Cetus, she enters
tbe last-named constellation at 2h. A.M. on the 15th, to re-emerge
in Pisces at llh. A.M. on tbe 16th. Proceeding in her onward path,
she once more enters Cetus at lOh. A.M. on tbe 17th ; and when she
fin.ally quits it, at 5h. A M. on tbe 18th, it is to come out into Aries
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). She is in Aries until
5h. A.M. on tbe 19tb, at which hour she enters Taurus. In the
course of her journey across the constellation last named, she comes,
at 3h. 30m. A.M. on the 22nd, to the western boundary of the
northern prolongation of Orion. It takes her exactly 12 hours
to cross this, and, at 3h. 30m. in the afternoon of the same day, she
emerges in Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She is
in Gemini until 10b. 30m. A.M. on the 24th, at which hour she
passes into Cancer. At llh. P.M. on the 25tb she le.aves Cancer for
Leo, as she does Leo in turn for Virgo at lOh. A.M. on the 281 h
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). She is in Virgo when these
notes terminate.

Dark and Fair. — Statistics tell rather a curious story about the
relative attractiveness of dark hair and fair hair. A modern author
states that, .according to statistics, for every two dark- haired women
who are unmarried there are three fair-haired ones. This in itself
b.as no particular value, being, in fact, one of the customary
stupidities of statistics. It tells nothing as to the relative number
of dark and fair women who may marry, simply because it takes no
account of tbe relative number of dark and fair women who exist
in tbe community. It there were three fair-haired women for every
two dark-baired women, the observed proporlion between the fair
and diirk unmarried women would indicate no preference for one or
the other hue. But as it is probable that there are more dark-haired
women than fair-haired women, and even a great relative excess in
the number of tlie former, the relatively smallnumber of dark-haired
women among the unmarried seems to indicate a well-marked pre-
ference on the part of the harder sex for the darker sisterhood.
Albeit tbe evidence requires to be carefully analysed before this can
be reg.aided as a demonstrated fact.

©MX Cftee!^ Column.

By " Mephisto."

A pretty game played at the Frankfurt Tournament.
French Defence.

WurrE.

Black.

White.

Black.

Prof. Berger.

Ilr. Noa.

Prof. Berger.

Dr. Noa.

1.

P to K4

P to K3

14.

Pto B5(/)

K to R2

2,

P to Q4

P to Q4

15.

QK to K sq

R to Kt sq (<?)

3.

QKt to B3

B to Kt5 (rt)

16.

QKt to K2

QKt to Q2

4.

PxP

PxP

17.

Kt to B4

R to Kt4 (A)

5.

B to Q3

KKt to B3

18.

R to K2

P to Kt3

6.

Kt to K2

Castles

19.

KR to K sq

B to Kt2

7.

Castles

R to Ksq

20.

P to B3

QR to KKt sq

8.

P, to KKt5

P to B3

21.

Kt to K6 («)

K to Rsq

'.).

Kt to Kt3

P to KR3 {!>)

22.

KtxR

RxKt

10.

B to KB4

B to Q3

23.

Q to K3

QtoB8

11.

Q to Q2 {€.)

P to KKt4 {d)

24.

Q to B4

Q to Kt7 (./)

12.

BxB

QxB

25.

RtoK8(ch)(^0

K to R2

13.

r to B4 (_<•■)

P to Kto

26.

R to Q8

Resigns (?)

February 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOV/LEDGE ♦

95

POSITJOX AFTER WHITE'S

2 1 ST Move.
Black.

XOTES.
(a) Not favourable for the defence ; K Kt to B3 is better.
(*) Black is delaying the development of his forces too long, and
this move weakens his King"s side.

(o) White has his pieces in good play, and although he does not
threaten B x KP immediately, that move may soon become possible,
((i) Weakening his position still more : he should have played
B X B. "

(e) \\'hite follows up his advantage in development in the best
possible way, giving Black no breathing time.

(/") If Black had played P x P, then R x P and QR to KB sq would
have given White an advantage.

(g) B to Q2 was preferable.
(A) To prevent Kt to E5, but it
was not good, although it would
be diflBcult to suggest a better
move. P to Bl might have been
tried here.

(i) A very fine move, for if
Black replies with P x Kt then
•>-2. PxP (disc ch), K to K sq.
23. P X Kt to be followed by R to
K7 or K6 winning {see diagram').

(j) The Queen is badly placed
on Kt7.

(A) Black cannot take the Rook,
for after Kt x R. 26. R x- Kt(ch),
K to R2. 27. P to B6 (ch) wins.
(I) White threatens to take this
Knight as the Kt on B3 dare not
move, and if Kt to B sq then
Q to Kt8 or R to K7 or K8 wins.
This game shows plainly the great disadvantage wliich arises by
proper play through losing time in the opening.

" t

# -!^ %
t i)

i^j-M

A CHAITER OF ACCIDEXTS.

Nobody is infallible, and the player who makes the least number
of mistakes is the strongest player. In Tournament play every mis-
take counts, whereas in match-play it does not to that extent, for if
a player loses a game in a match, he can always recover himself if
he is the stronger player. The following incredible series of mis-
takes occurred in the game, Gunsberg r. Burn, played in the Tourna-
ment of the B.C.A.

Bubs.

Black.

■S M. mm. -mm
i ^ A ^ mm. a? m

It was ^Miite's move, and he plaj'ed —

Q to B6 (ch)
Q X Kt, P X Q, Kt to R2 would have won easily.

B to K3
QxKt
Still right, but White might have defended simply bj' Kt to Q sq,
winning again easilv.

PxKt
Kt to R2
Fatal. If, instead of this. White plays simply P to R8 (Q), he
still wins.

White has made three successive weak moves, and under certain
awkward circumstances such play might give rise to grave conjec-
tures. The result of the loss of this game was that Gunsberg was
not absolute first, but tied with Burn.

Experience has proved that luck sometimes equalises itself.
Having had bad luck in the above game, Gunsberg had a piece of
good luck in his game with Bird, which, although it did not fully
counterbalance the loss of the previous game, yet it enabled him to
remain in front. The position was as follows : —

GUXSBERG.
Black.

Whitf.
Eir.D.

Black had been lighting an up-hill game for a long time, and had
no chance by correct play. He played

Kt to Q3,
which gave White the opportunity of mating in two moves by
Q X P (ch), K X Q, and B to Kt2 mate. White, however, did not see
this pretty but by no means so verj' obvious move, but played

BxP,
an inferior move, to which Slack replied with

KtxB
P X Kt Q to R7 (ch) and wing.

Even on his last move White would have done much better by playing
Q X Kt, when the win would not by any means be assured b3" Black
exchanging Queens, as White would remain with too many Pawns.

Yet another mistake occurred in the following game played in
the tie. Black might have won here by Q to B? (ch) ; K to R3 ;

GtlSSBEEG.
Black.

Whtte.

Burn.

Q to KG (ch) ; K to R4 : Kt to Kt3 (ch), and Black wins ; for if
PxKt Black wins the Queen bv Q to K8 (ch)— K to R3, Q to
R8 (ch) ; but if R x Kt, then Q to K8 (ch)— K to R3, R x R wins.
Instead of this, the game proceeded in the following manner : —

Rx R
QxR(ch) QxQ

K X Q I' to R4

K to B6 ! r to R5

KloK7! K to Kt2

B to B3 P to R6

BtoQ.5 PtoKlo

K to Q6 K to R3

K to B.-;
And the game was drawn after a few moves.

96

KNOW^LEDGB ♦

[February 1, 1888.

(Bur WiWt Column.

By "Five of Clues."

MATHEWS ON WHIST.
Ruffing and Foecing.
{('tintinned from p. -17.)
HEN your partner shows a weak game, force him,
whether or not you would otherwise be right in
so doing. It is seldom right to refuse a ruti'
when j'our partner, if a good plaj'er, visibly
intends you should do it ; if he is a bad player
your own hand should direct you.

Should your partner refuse to trump a certain
winning card, try to get the lead as soon as you
can, and play out trumps immediately.
When 3'our partner plays a thirteenth card, and most of the
trumps are unplayed, he generally means you should put a high
1 rump to strengthen his own hand. [Either leave the card alone,
to draw a trump from fourth hand, or trump with }"our best.]
I'LAY OP Teumps.
Take every opportunity (when sufficiently strong) to show your
partner that you can command the trumps. In that case he will
keep his own strong suit entire ; whereas if the strength of trumps
were with the adversaries, his play would be to keep guard on
their suits, and to throw away from his own. [We have here,
again, the true principle of the discard as determined by the
posiiion of trump strength.] If you have, as fourth player, to win
a small trump, and you hold a sequence of three or more, win with
the highest and play the lowest afterwards [thus informing your
partner of your strength] Keep the trump card as long as you
can when your pariner leads trumps [or when you are strong in
trumps yourself] ; the contrary if an adversary leads them. Thus,
in the former case, if the eight is turned up and you have the nine,
throw the nine [when one or other of the two is to be played] ; in
the latter case, play the card turned up, even though you have the
seven and six.

It is equally advantageous to lead up to as through an ace ; less
advantageous to lead up to a king turned up ; and disadvantageous
to lead up to the queen.

It frequently happens when you have Jed from six trumps, that
after your second lead you remain with three or four cards, the
best being in an adversary's liand. In such situations play a small
trump. This has two advantages — first, it prevents the stopping of
your partner's suit; and secondly, it gives you the tenace in what-
ever suit the adversary may lead. This, mutatis mutandis, will
show that it is bad play to lead the best trump, leaving others
in the hands of your adversaries. It may do good to
keep it in hand, as you may be able to stop an adversary's
suit with it ; and it can answer no good purpose whatever
to play it out. [The last statement is, however, too general,
and is indeed flatly contradicted by Mathews's own statement
in another place, where he says] If, however, they both have
tiumps and your partner none, it is right to take out two for one
[though this in turn is too general, for often you play the enemy's
game in so doing. Nothing but practice and experience can show
what is best in particular cases. Still the general rule remains
sound.] If you remain with the best trump, and one of your adver-
.>^aries has three or more, do not lead your trump, as it may stop
the suit of your other adversary.

Moderate players have generally a decided aversion to part with
the best trump, though single, thinking that as they cannot lose it,
and it can make but one trick, it is immaterial when it does so
[and misled also in many cases by the hope of drawing two trumps
from the enemy with it, if they can lead it instead of rutfing with
it.] This is a dangerous fault [though in cases, of course, it may
lie judicious, never essential; usuall)'] When your adversary plays
out his strong suit, ruff it immediately rather than give his partner
an opportunity to ihrow off his losing cards. Do not, however, go
into the contrary extreme, or trump with the best trump, with small
ones in your hand, for fear of being over-trumped. This is a nice
part of the game, and can only be understood by practice and
attentive reasoning.

The last trump is often of most material advantage to a good
pl.ayer. Thus, A has the thirteentli trump, with the ace and four
small ones of a suit not yet played, of which the adversary leads the
king and queen ; by passing them both, A probably makes three
tricks in tlie suit, but had he won the king he could not possibly make
more than one. He might safely win the C|ueen, however, and take
out a third round, trusting to his thirteenth trump to bring in the
remaining two, which would then probably be long cards in the
suit. Without the thirteenth or a sure trump re-entering card A could
not probably in any play make more than one trick in the suit.

When all the trumps are out, if you have the commanding card
of your adversary's suit, you may play your own suit as if you held
the thirteenth trump.

If the trumps remain divided between you and your partner, and
you have no winning card yourself, it is good play to lead a small
trump, to put the lead in his hand that he may play off any leading
cards he may have, and so give j'ou an opportunity to throw away
leading cards. For ir^st.ince, A remains with two or more trumps
and two losing cards; B, his partner, with a better trump and two
winning cards. It is evident that if A plays a losing card he will
make merely his own trumps ; but if he plays an inferior trump,
and so puts the lead into his partner's hands, B will play his
winning cards, while A throws away his losing ones. [The ques-
tion is only of one trick if A only holds two trumps and two losing
cards ; but if A holds three trumps and two losing cards, his partner
also holding two losing cards in the same suit or suits, A loses two
tricks if he leads a losing card.]

SCIENCE IN WHIST.

Mr. Ram writes to us again as follows : —

" If a whister, who claims to play a game which may be legiti-
mately styled 'srientific,' were atter, say, the fourth round of each
game, to put in black and white a list of the cards which he opined
were in each of the other three hand*, and were at the same lime
to make a forecast in detail of what the play of each of the four
players for the remainder of that game would in his opinion be ;
and at the end of the said game were to com|:iare the document
with a coresponding statement which had been made by a fifth
person who had actually seen the cards, how long would he con-
tinue to style his play ' scientitic ' ? ' Five of Clubs ' allows that
' bad ' play may be successful against ' good ' play for daj-s
together ! In what proportion of games would a bad chess-player
beat a good player ? Is not the play in whist necessarily always a
mere muddling along ? "

Whist is no " mere muddling along," as Mr. Ram would find if he
knew anything of the game. Since he evidently does not, it would
be idle to attempt to convince him. As to his question, I simply
reply that the experiment he suggests, if tried at a table where all
the players knew the game, would quickly shew even those who
know little of whist the value of scientific play. Where two
partners play scientilically again.«t two who know little of whist,
the infiuence of science is increased, though the power of reading
all the hands is diminished. Alheit, it very seldom happens that
among even the best players the first four rounds show the position
of all the chief cards. Usually nearly all is learned by about the
middle of the hand, after which nearly everything depends on
strategy. But sometimes the position of several important cards
remains hidden nearly to the last. Even then, however, the
scientific player can tell the relative chances that such and such
cards lie in such and such hands ; and if he then plays according to
his estimate of the chances, he is playing scientifically, and will
come out right in the majority of instances.

When whist is mere muddling along, as, doubtless, all the whist
Mr. Ram has ever played has been, the game is wearisome in the
extreme. I do not care to sit down myself to play whist when even
one of the four players is ignorant of the language and science of
the game. With two such players as opponents, and a good partner
I should be sure of winning heavily in the long run But it is
infinitely pleasanter to be so matched by good play as not to win
heavily or at all, in a series of games sufBciently long to eliminate
llip effects of chance.

N.B. — Mr. Ram can never tell the difference between scientific
whist and bumblepuppy till he has played as one of a whist party,
all four of whom are sound players.

Contents op No. 27.

PACK

T'ae Stream of Life 49

MooQ Lore and Eclipse Supersti-
tions. By " Stella Occidens " . . .51

Tricks of Memory 52

Edison's Phonograph 54

Collisions at Sea. By W. B. Robinson 5.5

Material of the Universe 5G

Large Tole?copes 58

Eoval Victoria Hall SO

The Southern Skies 61

The One-Scale Atlas C2

PACK

Coal. By "W. JIattku Williams . . B3

Amateur Photographic Exhibition (14

Darwin's Life and Letters 6.'>

Trick with Paper Rings «i7

Reviews tiS

The Face of the Sky for January

1888. By F.R.A.S 7J

Our Whist Coliunn. By "Five of

Clubs" 71

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

phisto " 72

TERMS OF SUBSGRltTlON.

'* Knowlbdge" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &a 14 0

To any address In the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Jul scription is 7s. 6d„ as heretofore.

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

^ILLUSTRATED ^MAGAZINE >^
fclENCELITERATURE, & AR&

LONDON: MARCH 1, 1888.

GOD'S UNIVERSE.

N old times men looked round upon the eartb,
seeing there the whole world, the kingdom
over which the gods ruled, while in the heavens
above they recognised the temple in which
their gods abode and were enshrined. There
is something strangely impressive in the
thought of what earth and heaven must have
been to men in those days. We talk of myths doubtiugly
and coldly, because we cannot readily place ourselves in the
position of those who were moved to make myths. We
cannot readily picture to our minds what they not only
paw, but felt; what — if we consider their position aright
— we see they could not help feeling. The grave busi-
ness man is as unable to recall the fancies of his two-
year-old childhood, and s3 interpret the feelings of his
two-year-old child, as the more advanced races of man
to-day to recall the feelings with which the child-man con-
templated the mysteries of earth and sun and moon, and the
yet more marvellous mystery of the star-strewn heavens.
Our school children can at least verbally describe the globe
of the earth ; they can name the great distance separating
us from the sun, and speak of his size and might and power ;
they can tell how Copernicus and Kepler and Newton ex-
plained the strangely seeming movements of the planets.
But grown men in old times could not inteipret aught they
saw. To them the earth's renewal of life year after year was a
standing mystery ; the sun, as day by day he renewed bis
victory over the powers of darkness, yet day after day sunk
to seeming death in the blood-stained western fields, was as
a living, acting, and enduring being, a veritable giant
l)ower, rejoicing as a giant to run his course. The moon
seemed of set purpose to bear sway over the skies of night,
as month after month she returned to full midnight glory,
and though she " nightly changed in her circling orb,''
waxing and waning in power, even in this her individuality
and self-power seemed attested. She seemed to measure
time for man, as if specially considering bLs wants. Even
more strikingly did the planets, as they pursued

Their wandering course, now high, now low, then lr!cl,
Progressive, retrograde, and standing still,

peem to exercise powerful sway over the destinies of men.
It was not merely, as Wordsworth sang, that those " radiant
Mercuries "

Se?med to move,

Carrying throngh ether, in perpetual round,

Decrees and resolutions of the gods,

but that they seemed to be themselves veritable gcds. Men
watched the movements of those divine beings even as
children in Catholic churches watch the entrances and the
exits of mitred bishops, robed priests, and surpliced acolytes,
recognising in each a solemn religious meaning, though not

knowing what their movements and ministrations may
precisely signify. Tliey had no need in those days, so far
as worship was concerned, of " temples made with hands,"
for the arched dome of heaven, alike by day and by night,
was their temple, the sun and moon, the stars and planets,
were their gods. But that they might note with due pre-
cision the positions and movements of these ruling powers,
they required earthly structures, and those structures, thus
raised to watch the movements of their gods, became sacred :
their pyramids and towers were like lady-chapels within
a vast cathedral, their gnomons and obelisks were as altars
or other essential adjuncts of their Sabaistic temples.

Turn without passing through all the intermediate stages
of men's progress, at once from the simple adoration of
those older times, when men prostrated themselves bodily
before the orbs of heaven, to the teachings of modern
science, and it might seem that men had become on the one
hand altogether wiser, on the other altogether less reverent.
Think what the earth is to us now in its lessons of a vast
antiquity of ever-changing aspect, of ever-varying forms of
life 1 Consider the infinite depth and solemnity of the tones
in which the heavenly orbs speak to man to-day ! We are
then disposed to smile at the simple, the almost touching
ignorance of mankind, during the childhood of their race.
Yet, even as the grown man looks back with something of
regret upon the fond hopes of youth, and even on the fooUsh
fancies of boyhood and the illusions of infancy, so might the
profoundest student of to-day be led to envy former ages
their simpler faith, did he not recognise that the univer.se
as we see it today, rightly understood, j)resents a grander
and more enduring temple for men, a more wonderful
powei- for their worship than the men of old times could
even have imagined.

Consider the steps by which men passed from their former
contented ignorance to their present growing, but ever un-
satisfied, thirst for knowledge — noting at every step how the
unknown and unexplained seemed ever to be the place of
Deity, but that while the unknown was ever passing into
the domain of the known and the unexi)lained into the
domain of the understood, men's recognition of the immen-
sity of the unknowable, the infinity of the inexplicable, has
been ever growini; clearer and more defined — so that whereas
once men saw a temple in the skies and deities in the orbs
of heaven, the universe itself is now recogniseil as the temple
of the godhead, the power working in and through all things
as Almighty Omnipresent — aye, and Ever-manifest — Deity.

First came the recognition that our earth is a globe, and
the measurement of that globe's size. The n.ations of old
times had doubtless come to recognise the earth as occupying
a large space, for they knew that long distances separated
Babylon from Egypt, and either from India, and fo forth.
None of the earlier nations can have doubted that the earth's
surface must be measured by millions of square miles, or
the equivalent of such spaces in their modes of measurement.
Still, the surfivce they had imagined as belonging to the
earth was almost as nothing compared with the 200 millions
of square miles which thej' recognised as forming the surface
of the entire globe, even when they had measured but small
arcs of it, and surveyed but a minute portion even of the
regions known to them. Then the recognition of the fact
that this globe-shaped home of the human race is suspended,
as it were, in mid space, even if it be considered (as by them
it was considered) to be the fixed centre of the universe,
must have had an impressive effect on the minds of thinking
men.

Still all this was as nothing compared with the signifi-
cance of the demonstration by Copernicus that the earth and
the planets form one family, the sun being the centre about
which they all travel. Because, so soon as this had been

98

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

accomplished, it became possible to foi-m a clear idea of the
relative distances and even some idea of the actual distances
of the other planets, and thus to form adequate ideas of the
relative importance of those orbs as compared among them-
selves, and even as compared with the eai'th. The addition
to the universe of five other worlds, probably at least as
large (on the average) as the earth, was assui'edly a most
striking achievement. No wonder if the more narrow-
minded among religionists, unable to reconcile such a dis-
covery with the limited ideas they had formed of the might
and wisdom of the Deity, shuddered with horror at the
daring of the Copernicans in imagining (nay, in even
venturing to prove), that there may be other worlds than
ours.

Even this, however, was in turn but nothing when com-
pared with the discovery of the real meaning of the stars,
following almost immediately on the recognition of the real
nature of the planets. Tycho Brahe, who was moved with
something like indignation against the doctrines of Coper-
nicus, pointed out at once that if they were true every star
must be an orb of enormous size and splendour, perhaps
comparable even with the sun, which he regarded as
preposterous. For, said he, our earth could not circuit
in this immense orbit which the fond Copernicans as-
sign to her, without causing the constellations to change
entirely in aspect in the course of each year. In autumn or
winter, for instance, we look at the constellation Orion from
a position many millions of miles away from that which we
occupy when we look at that constellation in spring. Hence
the star groupings would present an entirely altered appear-
ance, unless we are to imagine that such a distance as
100,000,000 of miles (the real distance is 18(5,000,000 of
miles, but Tycho Brahe did not know that) counts for
nothing as compared with the distances of the stars. But
if so, if they really lie at distances which must be measured
by thousands of millions of miles, we need only remember
that our sun removed to such distances would look no
larger than a star, to see that we must regard the stars,
manifestly self-luminous as they are, as veritable suns, if
this pernicious Copernican theory is admitted.

When Kepler and Newton had established the Copernican
theory on altogether irrefragable evidence, and when the
telescope enabled men to measure the planets, still grander
ideas about the universe began to force their way into men's
minds. It was seen that Jupiter and Saturn are very much
larger than the earth, and are the centres of systems of
subordinate worlds. With increasing accuracy in the
estimates of the sun's distance, it was seen that all the
planets are farther off, and therefore larger than had been
supposed. It became, in fine, certain that the earth is not
the chief member of the family of worlds attending ujion
the sun.

But this was nothing compared with the amazing sig-
nificance of the self-same telescopic teachings in regard to
the stars. Not only did every increase in the estimate of
the sun's distance increase in corresponding degree men's
estimate of the stars' distances, but every increase in the
power of estimating position made clearer and clearer the
apparent fixity of the stars, and therefore threw them, as it
were, farther and farther back into the abysses of space.
It had been wonderful enough that the eye could detect no
relative displacements among the stars as the earth circled
in her wide orbit around the sun. But it presently became
clear that, even with the immense increase in the power of
determining positions which the telescope gave to astrono-
mers, no sign of change could be detected during the year
in the position of any star. Bradley attacked the problem,
but though he worked so well that he was able to detect
the annual change due to the aberration of light and the

nutation (or nodding motion) of the earth's axis, he dis-
covered no annual displacement. The best astronomers
in Great Britain and on the Continent attempted the
task and failed. At length astronomers gave up hope,
beginning to regard the stars as, all and severally, too
far removed to afford appreciable evidence of displacement
as the earth revolved in her wide orbit around the sun.

But just when success was despaired of, a double success
was secured. Henderson, at the Cape of Good Hope,
recognised the measurable annual displacement of the bright
star Alpha Centauri ; while Bessel, at Konigsberg, recog-
nised a smaller yet measurable displacement of the faint
star (barely visible to the naked eye) numbered 61 in
the constellation of the Swan. (Bessel had chosen this
faint star for observation because it is moving much more
rapidly on the star sphere than its fellows, as if it were rela-
tively near the earth, so that its motion, though not really
greater than that of other stars, appeared greater through
the effects of proximit}'.) But when at last the problem
had been mastered, when for the first time the actual dis-
tances separating us from the stars, and the stars from each
other, came to be recognised, how tremendous those dis-
tances were found to be ! The nearest of all the stars in
the heavens lies twenty millions of millions of miles from
us, in such sort that light speeding with a velocity of
187,000 miles in a second takes more than three years in
coming to us from that star. Our sun removed to the same
distance would appear but as a star — nay, he would be a
very much smaller star, in appearance, than that nearest of
all our neighbouring suns.

But in the meantime, while one set of astronomical
researches was showing astronomers the immensity of
stellar distances and the sunlike character of every star,
another set of researches had shown and was showing the
vastness of the numbers of the suns within our galaxy. The
thousands of suns visible to the naked eye had increased
to hundreds of thousands in the days even of Galileo.
Another century had shown astronomers that the stars
within telescopic range must be counted by millions. Sir
William Herschel's gauges of the star depths had shown
that our estimate of the numbers of the stars must run
into tens and even hundreds of millions. And to-day, it is
well known that if the most powerful of the telescopes made
by man could be used in surveying every portion of the
heavens, the total number of stars which would be brought
into view would far exceed one thousand millions. The
increase with each increase of telescopic power has, more-
over, taught the lesson that we can in no sense limit our
estimate of the number of stars by the number which even
our most powerful telescopes would show. If we could
double the space-penetrating power of our telescopes, we
should probably much more than double, we should
increase manifold, the number of stars — that is, of
suns — which would be brought within our ken. Not
thousands of millions, but probably millions of millions of
suns exist within the limits of the sidereal system. Bather
— I ought to say — they exist within the limits of our
sidereal system, for doubtless this system is no more to be
regarded as single within the viniverse than our solar system
is unique within the star depths. Every star tells us of a
sun. and probably of a solar system, in such sort that we
must recognise thousands of milHons of solar systems in the
galaxy. May we not fairly assume, then, that in like
manner our sidereal system is repeated millions of millions
of times within some systena of a higher order. That
system may be in turn repeated many millions of times
within a system of a higher order. And so on, to higher,
and higher orders, absolutely without end.

Recognising this as the teaching of the astronomy of to-

March 1, 1888.]

KNOWLKDGE ♦

99

day, and noting how great to us appears tlie earth itself,
though she is but the first step in an evergrowing series,
each successive term of which enormously surpasses the
preceding, we cannot but perceive that it is infinity, not
mere vastness with which we have to deal : " End is there
none to the universe of God : lo, also, there is no be-
ginning."

SHAKESPEARE SELF-DRAWN.
By Besvolio.

I.— "TITUS ANDRONICUS."

lEAST attractive of all the Shakespearean
plays, in certain passages absolutely repul-
sive, " Titus Andronicus '' is yet in many
respects most interesting to the Shake-
spearean student. When as yet little had
been done towards classifying Shakespeare's
plays in the probable order of their pro-
duction, it was natural that this play
should simply be rejected as not Shakespeare's work at all,
save, perhaps, that a passage here or there might be
regarded as thrown in by his master hand. It was obvious
that the author of " Macbeth," " Othello," and " King Lear,"
whose method of tr&iting tragic horrors is so powerful, ctin-
not have been also the author of the crude horrors, the
repulsive yet weak and almost ludicrous sensationalism of
" Titus Andronicus." And that remains obvious still. But
Shakespeare in 1.587-89 was not Shakespeare the author of
" Hamlet," " Julius Cresar," " Macbeth," and " Coriolanus."
He was a young man, country bred, impei-fectly educated,
associated with dramatists and actors of greater knowledge
and experience, one in whom the audacity of youthful
genius was tempered indeed, but not by his own judgment
but by deference to the judgment of men really his in-
feriors, whom he then naturally regardeel as his superiors.
Moreover, it must be remembered, that even if Shakespeare
himself, as a very young man (from twenty-three to
twenty-five) had been able, against the judgment of experi-
enced actors, to decide that plays like Kyd's " Spanish
Tragedy," and the other bloody tragedies which had been in
vogue for years before he came to London, were coarse and
repulsive, he wovdd still have been disposed to believe that
such tragedies, nevertheless, must be purveyed for audiences
whose tastes probably were as coarse as those of the
modern audiences at the Victoria Theatre and (till lately)
of the Surrey Theatre. It is certain that Shakespeare,
even far later in his career as a dramatist, wrote for the
groundlings as well as for the more cultured among his
audiences ; it is certain aLso, that, until late in that career,
he regarded play-writing as belonging to an inferior order of
literjiry work. We can hardly suppose that Shakespeare
failed to recognise later the value of his plays as poetrj' ;
but he had probaV)ly written a dozen plays before the time
when he would have set any of them on the same level
with his " Lucrece," or even with his " Venus and Adonis."
Thus, in considering Shakespeare's part in the production
of " Titus Andronicus," the earliest of all his plays, we are
free to admit much which we should at once reject if the
plaj' belonged to a later date ; while, in the case of offen-
sive, even repulsive passages, which we may thus either
attribute to Shakespeare's pen or regaid as having passed
his scrutiny uncondemned, we may recognise rather the
modesty of his youthful mind, accepting what his elders
approved, and even writing in the style which seemed to
them good, than absolutely coarse tastes even at the time
when he was little more than a half-educated country lad,

Shakespeare's connection with " Titus Andronicus " is
much more clearly made out than his authorship of many of
the plajs which bear his name. The play is one of six
tragedies mentioned by Meres (Palladis Tamia, Wit's
Treasury) in L598, .as proving Shakespeare's excellence ; and it
must be remembered that the association of Shakespeare's
name with a plaj- in the days when as 3-et his fame was not
established on the firm footing which it afterwards had, is
much more decisive of the question of authorshi]j than
similar evidence would be in after years when Shakespeare
was the acknowledged leader among the dramatists of his
age. We can understand how Fletcher's name came to be
dropped from the title-leaf of " Henry VIII.," of which
Fletcher certainly wrote more than half; but had not
Shakespeare written much more than the half of " Titus An-
dronicus," his name would certainh' not have been associated
with it when it appeared (perhaps 1.589) or for many years
after.

Even if we had to accept the whole play as Shakespeare's
(which, fortunately, is forbidden by external and internal
evidence alike) we should find scarcjly a gi'eater contrast
between "Titus Andronicus" and "King Lear" (the later
tr.agedy to which it is nearest akin), than there is between
" Love's Labour's Lost," the earliest comedy, and " Twelfth
Night," Shakespeare's finished work. As much of the
falsely heroic as there is in '' Titus Andronicus," so much
at least is there of false humour in " Love's Labour's
Lost."

It has been remarked by a laborious Shakesjiearean
student respecting " Titus Andronicus," that it would be
unsafe to attempt to point out certain passages as Shake-
speare's, because we do not know the distinguishing features
of his style when be first began to write for the stage. To
my mind this remark suggests small critical acumen. It
would be unsafe to point out certain pas.sages as not Shake-
speare's, and for the reason indicated, that we do not know
what characteristics distinguished the Shakespeare of the
time when "Titus Andronicus" appeared. But this need
bj- no means prevent us from recognising passages as
undoubtedly Shakespearean which present characteristics
such as his work, and his alone, has displayed.

Viewing " Titus Andronicus " thus, the student who has
entered into Shakespeare's mind and character, and has
learned to know the ring of his music, will, I believe, recog-
nise much more of " Titus Andronicus " as certainly Shake-
speare's than critics of the Furnivall school imagine ; while
he will be disposed to reject as not Shakespearean much less
than he would were the play to be dealt with as belonging
to the prime of Shakespeare's dramatic career.

Nearly the whole of the fii'st scene Ls Shakespearean in
tone. In particular the description by INIarcus Andronicus
of his brother's services to Rome, all but the first few lines
is manifestly from the same hand, as yet, however,
unpractised, which later wrote Coriolanus's speech, be-
ginning " Hail, lords 1 I am returned your soldier."
Compare with this also the speech of Titus himself in
scene ii. : —

Hail Rome, victorious in thy monrning weeds I
Lo, as the bark, that hath discharger! her fraught.
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at tirst she weighed her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears.

If in this speech and much which follows in scene ii. we
recognise the " 'prentis han'," that hand is still manifestly
the hand of Shake.speare. Even in the schoolboy Latin
introduced here and elsewhere throughout this crudely con-
cocted tragedy, we may find something Shakespearean, ay,
and something throwing light on Shakespeare's character ia

100

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

[March 1, 1888.

boyhood and jouth. We have a touch also of Shakespeare's
own self in the lines : —

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods ?
Draw near them, then, in being merciful ;
Kweet mercy is nobility's true badge.

The touch is all the truer that it is dramatically inappro-
priate. When Portia speaks of mercy as " an attribute to
God himself," as " mightiest in the mighty," and as befitting
" the throned monarch better than his crown," we feel that
it is Portia who speaks ; and, though we need not there-
fore regard the passage as wholly without significance
respecting Shakespeare's own nature, we have yet in the
dramatic fitness of the sentiments a sufBcient explanation
independently of Shakespeare's personal character. But
when Tamora speaks so nobly of mercy, ignoble of nature,
and cruel as she was, our sense of the dramatic impropriety
of the sentiment in her mouth enables us the more
confidently to regard that sentiment as coming from
Shakespeare's own heart. Tamora might have begged
abjectly for mercy; but she could no more have pleaded
with such earnestness of reasoning than Portia, most intel-
lectually gifted of all Shakespeare's women, coidd have
pleaded with Shy lock to be merciful only out of pity.

Later in scene ii. we come in all probability on the
materia] of the original play, which Shakespeare can only
have left in despite of his better judgment The murder of
Mutius by Titus would be repulsive were not the passage
made utterly ridiculous by the coolness with which Titus,
Lucius, Martins, and the rest treat the whole affair. If
Shakespeare kept this play, as it remained after his re-
writing and revision, and later looked it over, how his
developed dramatic taste must have been at once offended
and amused by the remark of Lucius as he enters on hearing
his brother's dying cry : —

My lord, you are unjust ; and, more than so,
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son 1 *

In the beginning of act 2 four lines occur which no one
but Shakespeare could have written — at least, as lines in a
play dating so far back as 1589. I refer to the description
of sunrise : —

As when the golden sun salutes the morn

And having gilt the ocean with his beams

Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach.

And overlooks the highest-peering hills.

I do not remember, by the way, the use of the word
" peer " in the sense here given to it by any of Shakespeare's
dramatic contemporaries. Shakespeare himself uses it in a
kindred sense in " Henry V.," where Henry, speaking of the
French " horsemen on yon hill," says : —

. . . yet a many of your horsemen peer.
Further on in act 2, in the passage which introduces the
repulsive lusts of Demetrius and Chiron, we find lines
which are remarkable as being the only passage repeated
(in effect) thrice over in Shakespeare's works. She is a
woman, says Demetrius of Lavinia : —

She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd ;
She is a woman, therefore may be won ;
She Is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd.

In the first part of " Henry VI.," in a scene unmistakably
from Shakespeare's hand, Suffolk says of Margaret: —

She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd ;
She is a woman, therefore to be won.

* Yet even this, regarded as due to mere carelessness, is matched
by Imogen's coolness when Guiderius, whom she had loved as a
brother (not knowing that he actually was her brother) has been
condemned to death. " Thou art dead," says Cymbeline to
Guiderius ; and Imogen is only moved to remark that she has mis-
taken the man whom Guiderius had killed for her husband. —
Oymheline, last scene.

And if any doubt could remain that these are Shakespeare's
words, it is removed when we note that his 41st sonnet has
the lines : —

Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assail'd ;
tientle thou art, and therefore to be won.

The thought here conveyed, and the form in which the
thought is presented, must have had a singular charm for
Shakespeare, that he (who so seldom repeats himself) thus
frequently repeats this idea in almost the same words.

I know of no passage more truly Shakespearean in
"Titus Andronicus" than the forest scene, as described
(iuapjiropriately enough) by Tamora, that " unhallowed
dam," addre.ssing the ravenous tiger and accursed devil,"
Aaron the Moor : —

Jly lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad.

When everything doth make a gleeful boast /

The birds chant melody on every bush ;

The snake lies rolled * in the cheerful sun ;

The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind.

And make a checker'd shadow on the ground ;

Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,

And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hovmds,

Keplying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns.

As if a double hunt were heard at once.

Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise.

And after conflict, such as was suppos'd

The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd.

When with a happy storm they were surpris'd,

And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave.

We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,

Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber ;

While hounds, anrl horns, and sweet melodious bird.^,

Be unto us, as is a nurse's song

Of lullaby to bring her babe asleeji.

One might imagine this addressed by Venus to Adonis ;
one might imagine it part of a poem written by Shakespeare
on the theme of his " Venus and Adonis," but in another
strain ; one may even imagine in it a picture of fair but
forward Anne Hathaway pleading with her youthful love :
but while one can see no fitness in words such as these
placed in the mouth of the fiendish Tamora, one cannot
imagine that any penned them but Shakespeare. The style
is his, the thoughts are his, the words are his ; but, beyond
and above all, the music is his, and none other's.

Repulsive as is the rest of this scene, no one, I think, who
compares the appeal of Lucretia to Tarquin in Shakespeare's
" Lucrece " witli the appeal of Lavinia to Tamora and her
sons, can doubt that the former is not more certainly Shake-
speare's work than the latter. The scene is one on which no
reader cares to dwell, even to note what is beautiful amid so
much that is horrible, Yet w-hat could be more pathetic
than Lavinia's appeal 1 —

Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
Tlie whilst their own birds famish in their nests :
O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful.

Sciittered throughout " Titus Andronicus " we find many
expressions and tones characteristically Shakespearean.
Compare, for instance —

Martins. To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,
with

JiiVuH. Oh God ! I have an ill-divining soul ;
and

Demetrius. I would we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay,
with the lines —

Ah ! that I had my lady at this bay,t
To kiss and clip me till I run away,

* Probably a misprint for " coiled," a word which might be
so wriiten as to be mistaken for " rolled."

t The word " bay " is here used in the hunter's sense, as again
in Titus's speech at the beginning of scene 2, act ii., " Uncouple

March 1, 1888.]

♦ > KNOWLEDGE ♦

101

(in the fourth of the poems — some undoubtedly not by
Shakespeare, but this one certainly from his pen — included
under the strange heading " The Passionate Pilgrim "l ; and
again —

Aarun, Here's a young lad, fram'd of another leer,

with CeHa's, " he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you."
"Titus Androniciis " is well worth .studying for the
many truly Shakespe;irean Ijeauties it contains, if only one
can overcome the sense of disgust which several scenes in
the play tend to inspire. Once recognised as in the main
Shakespeare's work, it is suggestive as to his character in
youth, and as to the development of his poetic and dramatic
instincts. Apart from direct suggestions of this sort, there
is something singularly suggestive of Shakespeare's modesty
at this part of his career, in his adhesion for the time to
the older tragic style, which even then he must have
recognised as distasteful, if not repulsive.

HAVE GHOSTS BEEN SEEN?

EW subjects tax more stringently what may
be called the scientific conscience than the
matter of apparitions.

The student of science recognises two
clear duties in all scientific inquiries. In
the first place, he must strive to see things
as they are ; and in the second, he must
speak of them as he sees them. Against
strict obedience to the first duty prejudices of all sorts,
shapes, and sizes often oppose themselves ; but when he has
resisted the temptations thus soliciting him to careless or
sceptical or unfair inquii'V, he is often still harder beset by
the temptation to conceal views that he thinks may injure
him either among fellow-workers in science or in the lay
world.

In regard to ghosts and goblins, science has travelled
along smoothly enough so long as apparitions of particular
classes have been in question. The whole subject of hallu-
cinations has been explored by science so thoroughly that no
one now is perplexed by stories of visions such as those that
troubled Nicolai, Jilake the painter, Mrs. A. (of Brewster's
"Natural Magic"), and a number of other persons. The
vision in such cases is but " the blot upon the brain that
will show itself without," and science is " not to be over-
awed by what it cannot but know is a juggle born of the
brain."

Nor has science been much concerned about those old-
fashioned ghost stories, telling how sheeted foims and
unearthly sounds have affrighted sensitive folk under con-
ditions suitably suggestive. We have learned to understand
how readily under such conditions as the gloom of night,
chilly air (starting shivers and tremors, which of themselves
suggest unearthly feelings), and so forth, the mind will
unconsciously form false images out of dimly seen objects,
or transform unexplained noises into sounds significant of
horror. A waving cloth becomes a beckoning sheet-clad
ghost; the creaking of a door sounds like the shriek or
moan of some one in agony. Out in the open air, in
gloomy woods, or valleys half hid in mist, sights and .sounds
that by day would not be noticed are by the active mind
changed to awful appearances or terrible noises.

To this day, for instance, in parts of England, the noises

here and let us make a bay." Shakespeare's love of hunting comes
outmost markedly in his earlier plays and poems, as in "Titus
Andronicus," •' Love's Labour's Lost," " Midsummer Night's Dream,"
and " Venus and Adonis."

* From the Cosmojiolitan, a leading American monthly magazine.

made at night by migrating birds are regarded as the bark-
ing and yelping of the Gabriel hounds (" CJabriel " is itself
a suggestive transformation from " gabble "), which in recent
times — I mean somewhere within the last ten or twelve
centuries — have been found by the foolish country folk to
be the souls of unbaptised children ; while (since the hounds
have never done any harm directly) it has been held reason-
able to regard them as indicating some approaching trouble
for those who may hear them.

There has not only been no trouble in interpreting the
ghosts and goblins of this type, but no difficulty has arisen
in consequence of visions and voices which have seemed to
simulate the appearance or tones of the dead. Here the
argument from coincidence, rather too freely urged aljout
apparitions in general, may be safely used. Undoubtedly
fancies of the kind described are so numerous, that we may
f^iirly expect some among them to correspond (in the manner
characteristic of ghost stories) with the supposed return of
the spirit of the dead to his earthh' home. Especially is
this the case when we remember how such f^incies are in-
fluenced by predominant ideas, and how, therefore, a person
whose mind is full of the thought of some dear lost one
would be more apt to form a mental picture of the dead
friend or relative than of some form or face entirely un-
familiar.

Even where several persons have seen, or seemed to see,
one and the same vision, science is at no loss to explain the
illusion, because it is well known that the thotight of one
mind is suggested readily in such cases to another mind
liable to similar impressions. Consider, for instance, the
well-known story of the widower, who thought he saw in
the dusk of evening the form of his late wife (only recently
deceased) sitting in a garden chair ; he called one of his
daughters, and asked in awe-struck tones whom she saw
sitting there 1 And the daughter saw her mother. Another
daughter being called was similarly impressed with the
thought that her mother sat in the chair which in life she
had been wont to occupy ; but when, summoning up his
resolution, he went forth into the garden to speak to bis
" late departed saint," lo ! he found not her in her habit as
she lived, but her garden dress, which a maid had placed
over the seat. It is obvious that the thoughts filling the
mind of the father transformed a dress into an apparition,
and it is probable that this thought was conveyed from his
mind to his daughters', rather than suggested independently
to them. In any case, there was no real apparition.

It is when we turn to visions of living persons, or to
thoughts and suggestions relating to living persons, at a dis-
tance from the person affected by the vision or impression,
that we find evidence most difficult to deal with, and the
results not only difticult to explain, but not altogether satis-
factory for discussion, because the number of those who
welcome the discussion of all such matters, either with
credulity or with ridicule, enormously exceeds the number
of the more thoughtful.

The following is one of the best authenticated of a class
of stories whose name is now becoming legion : — •

In September 18.57 Captain W., of the Gth Dragoon
Guards, left England to join his regiment in India, leaving
his wife at Cambridge. On the night between November 14
and 1.1, 18.")7, she dreamed that she saw her hu.sband looking
very ill, and she thereupon woke in great agitation. When
she looked up she saw the same figure standing by her bed-
side. He ajipeared in uniform, and as if suffering intense
pain. He then gradually faded from her view. At first
Mrs. W. supposed she must still be asleep ; but rubbing her
eyes and listening to the breathing of a cliild beside her, she
convinced herself that what she had seen was no dream.
In December 1857 a telegram from the seat of war

102

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

appeared in the morning papers, stating that Captain W.
had been killed before Lucknow on the Ji/teenth of
November. The family solicitor applied for further infor-
mation as to the date of Captain W.'s death, which Mrs. W.
felt sure must have taken place on the fourteenth, and not
on the fifteenth. But the date given in the telegram was
confirmed at the War Office. At this time a singular cir-
cumstance came to light. The solicitor chanced to mention
the case to a lady, a friend of his, who, according to his
account, had a tendency to see visions. Turning to her
husband, she said, " That must have been the same appari-
tion I i^aw on the evening when we were speaking about
India." They were able to fix the date, by means of a
receipt for an amount paid that day, as the fourteenth of
November. The solicitor on this applied to the War Office
again, saying that the friends of Captain W. were persuaded
there must be some mistake about the date. The officials
stated, however, that there could be no mistake, since the
death was referred to in two despatches from Sir Colin
Campbell, who in both cases gave the date as the fifteenth.
Tn March 1858 a letter arrived from a brother-officer, giving
an account of Captain W.'s death. This officer, who had
been riding beside Captain W. when he was killed, stated
that death occurred ou ihe fourteenth of November. Finally
— though whether on the strength of this officer's evidence
or through faith in the apparition's truth to time — the date
was altered to the fourteenth.

It seems never to have occurred to any one to consider
the difference between Indian and Englisli time. If the
time of Captain W.'s death really coincided, as Mrs. W.
then and thereafter firmly believed, with the time of her
dream, then, imless she went to bed unusu.ally early, he was
killed on November 15, Indian time. Suppose, for instance,
she had her dream at ten o'clock on the night of November 14,
then at that moment it was twenty-four minutes past three
on the morning of November 15 at Lucknow. Supposing
it was later, as the account suggests, then we may well
suppose that daylight had already broken on the morning
of the 15th at Lucknow, at the hour when Mrs. W. had
her midnight dream at Cambridge and her husband met
with his death.

One other narrative, before we consider the philosophical
aspect of the multitudinous stories of this kind which are
vouched for on good authority : and be it remembered, in
passing, such stories as these can be unmistnkably confirmed,
and have frequently been so confirmed, independently of the
veracity of the persons who assert that they saw the vision
or experienced the impression considered. The following
story is related almost in the words of the Bishop of Carlisle,
better known in former days at Cambridge as Dr. Harvey
Goodwin, the eminent mathematician : —

A Cambridge student had ari-anged, some years ago, with
a fellow-student tliat they should meet together at Cam-
bridge for the purpose of reading. A short time before
going up to Cambridge to keep his appointment, one of
them — from whom Dr. Goodwin had the story — was in the
south of England. Waking in the night, he saw, as he
imagined, his friend sitting at the foot of his bed. He was
surprised by the sight, the more so as his friend seemed to
be dripping with water. He spoke, but the apparition
shook its head, and presently disappeared. But the vision
reappeared a few minutes after. Information was soon
received that at about the time when the apparition was
seen by the young student his friend had been drowned
while bathing.

It will be remembered that Lord Brougham had an
experience very similar to the one just related ; and there
are other cases of the same kind — that is, cases in which an
apparition of a distant friend, at or near the hour of death,

has been seen by one to whom a promise had been made,
the fulfilment of which had been prevented by death.

It must be admitted that, as the Bishop of Carlisle has
said, the evidence in regard to apparitions of this sort is
such as would be regarded as decisive in any matter of
independent scientific research. The a jMsterio7-i eyidence,
in fact, considered alone, would be regarded as conclusive :
it is only because of the strong a priori unlikelihood,
amounting with many to the impossibility that such in-
fluences from a distance can be exerted under any conditions,
that the student of science finds the force of the evidence
weakening, not indeed absolutely but relatively, until he is
almost ready to reject it <as worthless, simply because of the
inexplicable nature of the conclusion to which it points.
This, however, no student of science — that is, of the known
and the knowable — can honestly do. He must weigh the
evidence in every case for what it is worth, quite inde-
pendently not only of prejudices, but also of preconceived
opinions as to the possible and the impossible.

After all, if ii jiriori considerations are to guide us, we
must remember the antecedent improbability that stories of
this sort should be invented or should suggest themselves,
even to the most imaginative minds. We can understand
the origin of ordinary ghost stories, both those suggested by
illusion and those resulting from iniposture; but those
stories of influences apparently exerted on persons at a dis-
tance, when either life is passing away or the vital powers
are intensely affected by emotion, are by no means such as
would naturally suggest themselves either to the fiinciful or
the inventive.

The coincidence explanation, which disposes fully of even
the best-authenticated ghost and goblin stories, fails entirely
in the presence of the phenomena we are considering. Pro-
fessor De Morgan, a master of logic, long since pointed out
its absurdity as thus applied. Among the multitudinous
sights and sounds that, under favouring conditions, may be
mistaken for apparitions and their utterances, a considerable
number is bound to be strongly deceptive (the human mind
being what it is), and there cannot but be some that seem
to escape all explanation. But the special characteristic of
the influences and appearances wo are considering here is
that they are so unusual as to convince the persons affected
that .something of a dreadful or most impressive nature has
aftected a dear friend or relative, and they are almost always,
if not invariably, confirmed by the event.

If spectral appearances of the kind described were
common, it might, of course, be justly reasoned that among
such appearances some might be expected to correspond in
time and circumstances (as in the case of the dripping
spectre of the drowning man) with the death of the par-
ticular relative or friend seen, or in whom the person
aftected is most specially interested. But this is not the
case. These experiences ai-e so exceptional as to excite
special attention when they occur ; while, whenever they do
occur, an event of a special kind occurs to correspond, both
as to time and person. This being the case, the argument
from coincidence, logically demonstrates causal, not casual
connection.

But, as I suggested at the outset, the trouble is that we
cannot understand how there can be any causal association
in these cases. Nothing as yet known to the student of
science enables him to explain how the anguish of A in one
part of the earth can move B to sympathetic anguish in
another.

I am utterly unable to suggest any explanation. The
theory of bt.ain- waves suggested by the present editor of
the Nineteenth Century several years ago. in reference to a
story related by Tennyson about an apparition of the kind
we are considering, is simply no explanation at all. It is

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

103

an attempt to pxplaiii obscurum per ohscurius. The only
path to an explanation that seems worth trying is that on
which Professor Barrett and others have attempted to
advance inquiry — namely, as to the influence of mind on
mind under test conditions. And unfortunately, while this
path is infested bj- charlatanism and trickery, what has
been thus far disclosed with more or less clearness in this
direction has been of little promise. Like Sir Isaac New-
ton's experiments on the action of gi-avity under test con-
ditions, which gave evidence only as to the nature of the
attractive force exerted by matter on matter, but in no
sense explained how matter can act on matter instantly
over vast distances, so these experiments on the action of
mind on mind within the same room, though useful as indi-
cating the nature of this action, sugge.--t no explanation
whatsoever of the observed foct that mind can act on mind
at a distance, and apparently in an instant of time.

In fine, it appeirs to mo that the evidence regarding the
communication of impressions from mind to mind over
great distances, in such sort that apparitions of distant
persoriS dying or suffering seem to be seen by their friends
or relatives, is too strong to be rejected by any conscientious
student of facts. Science is no more justified in rejecting
this evidence merely because no explanation is available
than astronomers would he justified in rejecting the ob-
served fact that bodies influence other bodies from a distance,
merely because, as Newton himself admitted, no one can
explain how matter can act where it is not. Some com-
munication there must be between sun and planet, between
planet and satellite, and, beyond each solar .system, between
sun and sun and between galaxy and galaxy ; but no one
has 3-et shown what that communication may be. In like
manner even the most cautious student of science may well
believe that there may be some means of communication,
under special conditions, between mind and mind at a
distance, though no one may be able to explain how such
communication is brought about.

VARIETIES OF AMERICAN LIFE.

ceiving dangers
for generations,

S^IERICANS are apt sometimes to be amused,
and occasionally get rather angrj', when
they hear Englishmen who ought to know
better blundering about American life,
imagining semi-savage conditions in regions
where culture prevails at least as fully as
in the greater part of the old country, con-
from Indians where no Indians have lived
and in general assuming that the wild ways
of frontier regions continue in regions long since reduced to
order and civilisation. I have been gravely asked whether
it is not well always to be armed even in New York and
Boston, whether in my Missouri home I felt safe from
Indians outside the suburbs of St. Joseph, wiiether in my
Florida home I am not in continual dread lest alligators
should devour my children. And I have foncied that my
answers have been doubted when I have x-eplied that in all
my time in America, from 1873 until now, I have never
thought of carrying any weapon more effective than a
pocket penknife (kept only for a penknife's work), that the
nearest approach to an Indian I have seen within a hundred
miles of St. Joseph has been an Indian negro half-breed
working in my own stable, and very far from warlike in
aspect, while in Florida I have only seen alligators when on
board a launch or river steamer specially chartered for a trip,
in which, if fortunate, an alligator or two might be caught
sight of, lazily lying in some sequestered nook, and, even so,
not safe from the band of man.

But, although most of the ideas which untravelled English-
men too commonly entei'tain respecting life in America, and
especially in the far "West, are absurdly remote from the
truth, yet Americans are somewhat too apt to deny actually
existent varieties of American life, which do unquestion-
ably differ in marked degree from anything we have in the
old country. An American fellow-passenger a few days ago
(I write on February 1, and the conversation took place on
January 2-i) so persistently claimed that no differences exist,
that I took the first newspaper which came to my hands
afterwards, viz., the Chicaijo Trihme for Sunday, January 25,
and carefully noted all the paragraphs which indicated, as I
think the English reader at least will perceive, the existence
of varieties in American life for which in England, and for
the most part in Europe itself, we have no counterparts.

I take these in the order in which I noted them : —

First. I read that at a meeting of Irish Volunteers,
O'Donovan Rossa and Frank O'Byrne advised Irishmen to
imitate the men who killed Cavendish and Burke, and to
use dynamite. I do not read any expressions of abhon-ence
for the utterances of these shameless miscreants, or of dis-
gust for the state of law in America which permits such
utterances to be safely made in public. No nation has quite
shaken off savagery in which such a thing is possible.

Secondly. I read news from Nogales, Arizona, of a fight
in which the Federal troops, aided by a party of citizens
(" most all the citizens " of the town where the fight took
place " were engaged in it," says the paper ungrammatically),
" whipped a band of Indians, killing three and wounding
many, besides capturing five squaws and seven children.

Thirdhj. At Amite City, Louisiana, a coloured man
accttsed of an assault on a white girl, and lodged in gaol, is
taken from the hands of the sheriff by a body of armed
citizens (a highly respectable body we are assured, and we
should imagine they must have been), and " hanged to a
tree " a hundred yards from the gaol.

Fourthly. W. A. Pinkerton, of the Pinkerton detectives,
captures a gang of train robbers who had " operated " in
Arkansas and Texas. (" Operated" is good!) Among the
multitudinous train robberies operated by this party one
will strike Englishmen who are accustomed to attriljute a
certain degree of pluck to their kindred in America as
remarkable, to say the least. A number of coloured men
belonging to the United States army, ofiicered by four white
men, were on board a train attacked by three ruffian
brothei-s named Barrows. Those gallant men, coloured
and white, and a number of other passengers who were
armed, allowed the thieves to rob the train undisturbed, and
were themselves despoiled of their property and disarmed,
their reason for this " calm, dishonorable, vile submission "
being lest in the interchange of shots any of the women on
board should be injured I Their rank cowardice might thus
be extenuated, possibly, if the women had requested them
to display it ; but as a matter of fact several of the women
on board expressed their indignation loudly. It is hardly
necessary to say that train robbery, thus encouraged by the
cowardice of passengers, remains a thriving business. I
was travelling over the road where the robbery took place
only a few days before ; and so far as I can judge, if I had
been one of the passengers, and cowardice had so far un-
nerved me that I could have joined those who advised passive
submission on the part of four armed ofiicers, a .score of
soldiers, and a hundred armed passengers, to three ruffians,
I should have wished afterwards to be put carefully out of
existence by some process such as my nerves (shown to be
so weak) could comfortably bear — say laudanum. " Shamed
life" must be a hateful thing to those four officers, at
least.

Fifthly. A party of dunderpated Kentucky farmers arm

104

♦ KNO^A;^LEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

themselves to resist the survey of their county, and at the
last reports much anxiety was felt for the safety of the sur-
veying party. The party of farmers might probably be
spared without much loss to the State.

Sixthlt/ — a quainter circumstance than the preceding —
Spotted Eagle and Charger, the defeated Indian candidates as
delegates to Washington, sulk in their tents because of the
election of One Feather, White Swan, and Crow Eagle.
" Grait excitement exists," the Tribune adds, " and news
from Sitting Bull and Eed Cloud is anxiously looked for."

SeventJdij. American train robbers, captured when trying
to rob a Mexican train, are sentenced to life servitude in
the mines, instead of being shot after the usual Mexican
practice. Xaturally Americans feel honoured by the dis-
tinction thus drawn between Ameiican and IMexican
ruffians.

Eighthly. A man who attempted to shoot the prisoner in a
trial in the court of Judge CliBbrd, Chicago, is set free ; and,
so far as the report shows, is regarded as a suitable object for
condolence and admiration.

Rintldi). A prominent citizen of Kalamazoo, Mich., is
arrested for arson. This citizen was not only old and
wealthy, but prominently pious — always a suspicious feature
in an Amex-ican. In fact, he was arrested while in church.
Investigation showed that he had poured oil on the roof of
another prominent citizen, for whom he entertained a feeling
of dislike, and set the oil on fire. He may perhaps have
misinterpreted in some degree the parable of the Good
Samaritan.

Tenthly. Marshal Brown, of Chattanooga, Tennessee,
had arrested Mr. Taylor Bowlin, who seized an early oppor-
tunity to call at Brown's place of business with the pleasing
idea of shooting him. But the wary Brown " got the drop
on " Bowlin, and, shooting him through the head, caused his
death I

Eleventhly. In a row near Morehead, Rowan County,
Kentucky, three men were seriously wounded. .James
]\Iartin unwisely attempted to kiss Mrs. Walker, the hostess,
which " she resented fiercely." In the mHee (the reporter
deems it quite unnecessary, it would seem, to explain just
how the fierce resentment of Mrs. Walker developed into
what Mr. Green usually calls a " melly ") the lamps were
overturned, and in the darkness several shots were fired.
When a light was made, John Walker was found to be
shot through the left lung, Pet Williams through the neck,
and Ned Lawler through the abdomen. James Martin and
Mrs. Walker do not seem to have been wounded. The
paper simply heads the account " Lively Times."

Twelfthly. In the same county, a negro, Bob Tenders,
suspected of an outrage, is visited by a party of the chival-
rously dunderpated farmers who inhabit tliat region, and
hanged to the beam above his door. But news being re-
ceived just as Tenders was in the throes of death that one
John Hooper was guilty, the wise farmers cut Tenders
down — whether dead or alive the i-eporter does not think it
worth while to mention. Any one who has had the oppor-
tunity of meeting some of the wiseacres who people this
Bteotia of America need hardly be assured that not one of
these murderously-minded farmers had the least idea that
his conduct was wrong. Their compound of ruffianism and
idiocy is regarded by many even of the better parts of the
community as chivalrous. The so-called chivalry of the
South is a strange blend.

Thirteenthly. From Indianapolis comes the news that the
Democratic leaders of Indianapolis and of the State of
Indiana feel strong sympathy for two men convicted of
forging voting papers, and intend to stand by them I Such
little foibles as forgery are regarded by many as mere indi-
cations of party zeal.

Fourteenthly. In Knoxville, Tennessee, three men accost
Mr. Jas. F. Rule, the editor of the Knoxville .Journal, with
whose paper they were not content, and though he is
accompanied by his wife, they invite him to the opposite
•side of the street, proposing there to assault and .shoot him.
" But i' faith he had been wiser than they" — for he had not
only taken a pistol to church, but was ready to use it more
quickly than they were prepared for. The result of this
little Sunday scrimmage was that, although Mr. Rule was
wounded, he was not badly hurt, whereas one of his three
opponents was carried away in a dying state, and another
was badly wounded. It suggests a curious picture of
Knoxville Sundays to read that " the organ drowned the
noise of the pistol-shots."

FifteentMy. A woman of San Francisco, who had, for
reasons unexplained, been known as " Dolly Adams," having
died in China, a glowing account is given of her career, the
most original feature of which was her marrying a high
Chinese official, from whom she obbiined a promise that if
she died in China he would have her remains restored to
San Francisco. " A few days ago, the body of the ' Water
Queen ' " — for so, as well as " Dolly Adams," this erst
naughty lady was called — " was brought to San Francisco
encased in a costly casket. But when we consider some of
the ornaments of our national portrait gallery, wo cannot
find much faiilt with the treatment of celebrated deiiii-
mondfiines in the American press.

Sixteenthly. In Milltown, Indiana, a secret society of
citizens (of course they are "highly respectable citizens")
has undertaken the correction of social errors, such as San
Francisco seems, on the contrarj', rather to encourage. The
members of the society call on a man who has not behaved
quite fairly to his wife, and, tying him to a tree, give him
"fifty lashes of hickory" {sic.) They then call on his
neighbours and compel them to spread the news, on pain of
being similarly treated.

Stventeenthly. And lastly (though from this one paper
alone I could have taken a score more of such details). Col-
lector Magone, of New Tork, dissatisfied with the immi-
grants brought in German steamships, sends a number of
them back. Judging from some of the preceding cases, it
would seem as though the stable-door were being carefully
closed after the vei-y undesirable intruders had driven the
good steed away.

MORALS OF NOBILITY.*

By Grace Greenwood.

^^^^^^QHE following article by a leading and grace-
ful American authoress presents a fair and
interesting (in some respects a rather
amusing) idea of the way in which English
royalty and nobility are regarded in the
United States by the less uncompromising
Republican minds.]
During a golden autumn day, spent with some friends at
Highgate, that most charming suburb of London, we were
taken to see the quaint old place bestowed by Charles II.
on his favourite of favourites, Nell Gwynn. It has suffered
strange mutations since Nell's time, not the least strange
being that it now has for a mistress a fair American, the
young wife of Sir Sydney Waterlow. But Lady Waterlow
does not dwell in the halls or wander through the grounds
which once rang with the light laughter and lighter songs
of the ex-orange girl, ex-actress, her royal lover, and his
roystering companions. Ah, no I for the house has fallen

* From tlie St. Louis Gloie-Democrat.

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOVSTLKDGE ♦

105

into dismal decay, while the grounds have, through years of
neglect, become a tangle and labyrinth of shrubs and vines,
like to the magic-guarded gardens of the Sleeping Beauty.
Indeed, so rank is the growth of untended flowers, fast
relapsing into primitive barbarism, so insolent the spread of
weeds, so still and slumberous the atmosphere of this
enchanted bit of the past, standing at bay against the
mighty roar of the fast-advancing town, that one could
easily fiincy Nell yet in her quaint bedchamber, sunk in her
prolonged beautj'-sleep, but, perhaps, just ready to wake,
take a bath in her shallow marble tub, array herself in rich
stuffs and colours, just come again into fashion after two
centuries, and start out on a new career of conquest. The
court proper, or the proper court, would not receive her,
nor even the demi-court of the heir- apparent, openly ; but
the stage would be more than ever open to her. She would
probably come to

the West,

To dazzle when the sun is down,

And rob the world of rest,

revel in Republican homage, and roll in " greenbacks," like
to other pretty favourites of princes.

The Merry ilonarch was very fond of this Highgate place
— pleasant and cosy, but never luxurious — and with it is
connected a significant little story. One morning, as Charles
was strolling up and down the brick- paved terrace, with his
usual bodyguard of little long-eared spaniels, INIistrtss
Eleanor Gwynn appeared at her chamber window, holding
in her white, dimpled arms a pretty baby, who much
resembled the King —

With the self-same eyes and hair.

More than once the proud mother had solicited for him a
ducal title and estates to support it, but her liege had put
her off, fearful of establi.-^hing a precedent which might stain
the royal prerogative and exhaust the royal treasury. Now,
looking down from the window, and holding forward the
child, she cried, " A title, your Majesty, or out goes the
brat ! "

The indolent King was alarmed for his beautiful boy, and
instantly exclaimed, " Save the Duke of St. Albans 1 "

Some of England's noblest titles and estates have had
their origin in some such ignoble way, and date directly
back to honours and rewards bestowed by profligate kings
and princes on low-born courtesans and their " brats." The
blue blood of Britain is not altogether cerulean, but has now
and then a very earthly tinge. The scandals which so
frequently disgrace the highest English society and shock
the world are outbreaks of the cancerous corruption of past
generations. Yet the royalty of to-day, not only of England,
but of Continental kingdoms, is certainly more decent and
decorous than that of less than a century ago — if it is not
absolutely more virtuous. In England this improvement is,
of course, largely due to the example of the " virtuou.sest,
discreetest, best " of Queens. Her Uncle William had his
palace well stocked with and his Ci\dl List well burdened
for his natural children ; her Uncle George was, as all the
world knows, the greatest of royal voluptuaries and liber-
tines, and even her venerable grandpapa had in his }-outh
his princely peccadillos. It is, perhaps, an open question
whether the royal and ducal folk of old times, who hand-
somely provided for their mistresses and boldly acknow-
ledged and ennobled their illegitimate children, were more
immoral than those of our day, who conceal irregular rela-
tions and ignore their unhappy consequences ; but about the
honesty and manliness of the two courses there can be no
question. It may be that the gi-owing restiveness of that
once stupid animal, the taxpayer, has something to do with
the decrease of royal profligacy.

Seen under the white light of absolute morality, I cannot
claim that the daily walk and conversation of the popular
Prince of Wales presents a loftj' example to high P^nglish
society, 3-et I do not believe him the Don Giovanni or Sar-
danapalus he has been represented. He possesses too genial,
kindly, and frank a nature and too much good sense to
attempt a prince regent role ; that is played out. And
then he is too busy with bridge and park openings, and
exhibition inauguratings ; he is whirled from banquet to
banquet, from chair to chair ; he is waltzed through gal-
leries, is called to wrestle with Albert monuments and
statues and multitudinous busts. It seems to be the policy
of the Queen and her advisers to keep the royal family " to
the fore," to have not only the Prince of Wales, but all his
brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, act up to the
" Ich dien " motto — serving the people in all proper cere-
monial ways — and the people work them well. Last sum-
mer the three-year-old Duke of Albany actually laid the
foundation of a public building, and did his "level best"
with his little trowel to prove to British taxpayers that
they were getting their money's worth out of the Guelphs.

Unquestionably the English royal family of today is an
improvement on that with which the century opened. On
the morals of the sons and daughters of George III. history
is reticent, and will be during the life of the good Queen ;
but I am afraid that there was scarce a man or woman of the
whole big family whose character should be discussed except
in camerd. Albert Edward is like to the long run of Princes
of Wales since Edward, born at Carnarvon ; there has
probably not been a Joseph among them ; but no great
scandal has attached to the lives of the Queen's other sons.
The Duke of Edinburgh is said to be too parsimonious to
be profligate, while the Duke of Connaught is too domestic
— too like his father. Oddly enough, the only exception I
remember was in the case of the late Duke of Albany —
reverenced by loyal English people as a saint and by his
elder brother's gay associates pronounced " a muff." It was
whispered that he had in the sunny South a questionable
and sad little romance, and that it had to do with his
untimely and sudden death. But I don't believe it. No
Guelph ever committed suicide

Leaving aside the deeper question of personal morality,
the most serious lacking in the character of the Prince of
Wales is the lack of seriousness. He is a man who, of all
things, loves to be amused, and who is not overscrupulous
as to who or what amuses him. In his visits to Paris he
frequents the Palais Royal and Opera Bouffe, and between
the acts drops into the loyes of the prettiest and gayest of
the artistes. This habit is S3 notorious that Zola did not
hesitate to put him into the dressing-room of his teautiful
and terrible " Nana." In Loudon comic actors, singers, and
personators, all sorts of '' funny men," and bright, original,
witty women are sure of his gracious patronage. He finds
high tragedy, even when superbly presented, as at the
Lyceum, " slow," and classical German music — even the
compositions of his lamented father— a bore ; while, when
he goes to grand opera, he generally goes to sleep. He is
royally fond of good living, the turf, and all sorts of sports;
is a great slaughterer of pigeons, and once shot a corralled
elephant. He has a quick eye, and a passionate admiration
for beauty. He entertains munificently, but his guests,
even when foreign princes, are geneially respectable people.
The clever men and pretty women of inferior station, or no
station at all, whose acquaintance he wishes to mnke, he
manages to have invited to the house of some obliging
friend, where he meets them. ()ne of the best things I
know of him is his hearty liking — something as near friend-
ship as a prince is capable of — for certain beautiful country-
women of ours, whom he has felt compelled to respect. I

106

♦ KNONATLKDGE

[March 1, 1888.

will instance Miss Anderson, Mrs. Potter— yes, and lovely
Miss Jenny Chambeilain. To none of these has the
flattering regard of this middle-aged " Prince Charming "
been a real benefit, perhaps, but I believe it was an honest
and loyal tribute to beauty and genius. The Prince is
beyond question kindly and generous ; men of his set pro-
nounce him " a capital good fellow ; " but. Republican as I
am, it seems to me that the heir to the proudest and noblest
Crown in the -ivorld should not be any fellow's " good
fellow." If anything could sober the man, even after a
wild youth, it would seem that a time like this were enough
— a time when the riuing tide of popular disaffection, the
sullen, miry tide of de.sperate want, is lapping against
the steps of the throne — when the political sky of all
Europe is black with threatening and lurid with portents.

In his marriage the Prince of Wales has no advantage
over bis brothers, except in the popularity and beauty of his
wife. The Duchess of Edinburgh, though little liked in
England, is a woman of strong character, rare intelligence
and dignity of demeanour ; the Duchess of Connaught, an
excellent little creature, and no fool, holds her husband's
heart in spite of her exceeding plainness ; while the Princess
of Wales, amiable, graceful, and gracious, is rather negative
in character. She is preternaturally young, with no trace
of sorrow or trial, or even thought, in her pretty, placid
face ; fond of amusement, frankly frivolous, and not too
jealous of her dignity. In fact, the charming royal matron
3'et retains all a pretty girl's love of admu'ation, dress, and
adornment.

It is little wonder if in these critical times serious
English people look forward with some apprehension to the
coming to the throne of this pair of perennially youthful
pleasure lovers. They may love and admire, but they do
not wholly trust them. They fear that the court of the
future reign will be rather a mercantile than a moral advan-
tage to London ; that in it science, litei-ature, and art of the
highest character, great public enterprises and schemes of
education and benevolence will find even less aid and com-
fort than in the present melancholy, migratory, and miserly
court ; while through its favour will flourish mightily cos-
tumiers, milliners, and tailors, funny men and horsey men,
French comediennes and singers, and American champion
shots, showmen, swimmers, and pugilists.

On the second Sunday in December good English church-
men must have prayed with unusual fervour for the Queen
long to reign over them, steady and stolid, proper and pious
as she is, for the mischievous little bird of the telegraph must
have carried to the remotest parts of the kingdom news of the
interview between the British heir -apparent and a notorious
American prize-fighter. The account of the courtesies
exchanged between these two powerful personages, in which
the Irish-American did not liy any means take a secondary
position — the report of the conversation, liberally spiced on
both sides with the slang of the ring, and preceded and
followed by " hearty hand-shakes " must have been tough
reading for aristocratic and refined Conservatives. Yet I
am afi'aid there is not among the entire English ai'istocracy
a peer or a prelate too proud to kiss the hand of his Royal
Highness after the grip of Sullivan the slugger.

But we republicans should not be troubled. The less the
Prince realises the mighty responsibilities ami magnificent
opportunities of his own position, the more he cheapens
royalty through such unworthy associations, the better for
the principles of democracy and equality. Let him continue
to make light of his dignity and his destiny a few years
longer, and a great change must come either in him or
the entire system of English sovereignty. This is an age of
miracles; the saving change may come in him, and he may
yet show himself as moral and as mean as " Prince Hal,"

who as Henry V. publicly cut poor old Jack Falstaff, and,
" unkindest cut of all," preached to him like a Salvation
Army exhorter. But that Prince of Wales was still young
when he turned over a new leaf in history ; this one has
passed the age at which his father ceased from his virtuous
labours, so is little likely to pose for posterity as Albert the
Good II.

WATER MYTHS,

By Stella Occidens.

TIMONG the ancients the seas near shore were
supposed to be inhabited by beautiful beings
called Sirens or .sea-nymphs. They had the
power of charming all who heard them by
the sweet tones of their voices accompanied
by irresistible strains of music. We are told
in the well-known story of Ulysses that
Circe warned him against these beings.
Some of his men fell victims to Scylla, the once beautiful
water-nymph, transformed into a horrible monster on
account of her indiflerence to the pleadings of the fisher-
man Glaucus. Ulysses again encountered danger whilst
passing the isle of Calj'pso. Homer thus describes the
beautiful grotto in which she entertained the hero : —

A garden vine, luxuriant on all sides.
Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung
Profuse ; four fountains of serenest lymph.
Their sinuous course pursuing side by side,
Strayed all around, aoia everywhere appeared
Meadows of softer verdure purjiled o'er
With violets ; it was a scene to fill
A god from heaven with wonder and delight.

Calypso urged Ulysses to remain with her, but he longed
for his home, and, compelled by a command from Jupiter,
she allowed him to return. She provisioned a raft for him,
and all went well at first, but presently a storm arose, and
the raft was destroyed. A sea-nymph took compassion on
lHysses, and, in the form of a cormorant, alighted on the
raft and gave him a girdle which enabled him to reach
land.

Thus some of these sea- nymphs were regarded as destruc-
tive, whilst others helped mariners. Among the beneficent
nymphs was Ino, the daughter of Cadmus, who was made
goddess of the sea by the gods. She had cast herself into
the sea from a high cliff", with her little son Melicertes in
her arms, whilst pursued by her husband Athamas. In a
fit of madness he had slain his son Learchus, and she feared
the same fate for her only remaining child. She became the
protector of sailors, and saved them from shipwreck.

In Norse mythology ^-Eger is the divinity of the sea,
and Ran is his wife. She has a net in which she catches
shipwrecked mariners, and she claims their bodies whilst
their souls go to heaven. Ran has nine daughters, the
waves who assemble together as their father wishes. They
have long golden locks and flowing white veils, and they are
called billows or surges when the wind blows. Then they
lash themselves against the shores and on the rocks.
They rest on a hard rocky bed, and do not play in calm
weather. The names of these daughters vary according to
their apjjearance. Thus they delight in such names as
Billow, Raging-sea, Sky-clear, &c.

In Danish mythology we have the pathetic story of the
little mermaid who saved a prince from drowning when
his ship was wrecked. She swam with him to shore, and
laid him in the warm sunshine. But a great yearning filled
her soul for the beautiful prince, and from that day she
longed to see him again. At last, after great trials, she
obtained her wish, but withal lost her beautiful voice.

March 1, 1868.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

107

She charmed the prince with her beauty and grace, but did
not win his love. He married another, and her little heart
was broken. She became a Light-elf, or spray of the ocean,
and immortal.

The German tradition of the Lorelei is quaintly beautiful.
In days of yore, a charming maiden lived on the rocks
known by this name. She sat on them every evening and
combed her golden locks, or played strains on the lute,
accompanying the sweet tones of her voice. Many were
lured to their destruction by approacliing too near. The
son of the Pfalzgraf longed to see her, and as he ajiproached
the rocks she appeared, dressed in white and veiled. The
youth leapt into the waters so as to reach her, and was
drowned. His father sent soldiers to take her prisoner,
but, on their approach, she threw herself into the Rhine,
singing —

Hasten hither, lovely waves.

Take me quick]}- to your caves !

The waters rose, and two waves bore her away whilst she
still sang, and the LTndine was never seen again.

It is related that at Bacharach there dwelt a beautiful
maiden who was much sought after and admired. She
would not accept any of the numerous suitors who loved her,
because she loved and waited for a brave kniglit who had
gone to Palestine. She caused .so much love and jealousy
that complaints were made to the Archbishop of Cologne.
He told her he would take her to a place where she could
await her lover, or, in case of his death, take the veil.

She was escorted by three knights, and when she came
to the Lorelei she ascended the rocks to take a last look at
the Rhine. In the distance she saw a boat bearing her
lover, and, overcome with joy, she fell on her kneas and
extended her hands towards him. He saw her, and, whilst
gazing at her, his boat was caught in the whirlpool and
suddenly disappeared. As all gazed in horror at the spot, a
pale figure with fair hair appeared on the surface of the
water. Then the maiden, with a cry of despair, leaped
from the rock into the water where her lover had sunk,
never to rise again. They were afterwards found locked in
each other's embrace. This event conliimed the belief in
the existence of the Nymph of the Lorelei.

A similar legend is told about a gloomy lake called the
Wildsee, not many miles from Baden-Baden. Here dwell
water-sprites, who spend their days on its banks, weaving
garlands, playing on their lutes, and singing — enchanting
unwary travellers. A young shepherd-boy once heard a
beautiful strain of music, and, approaching the lake, saw
the fair singer. He gazed spell-bound, as she played on her
harp. As soon as she heard his step, she gave him one
glance, and then sprang into the lake. That glance drove
him wild, and he wandered from place to place, but after a
time disappeared, and was never heard of again.

The waters of the Mummelsee, a large lake not many
miles distant from the Wildsee, are generally calm ; but at
times, when the day is most peaceful, the lake is covered
with billowy waves. Here, according to ancient tradition,
dwell l)eautiful L'ndines, who are formed as if of snowy
lilies, with the exquisite blush of a delicate rose. Every
month they rise to the top of the lake, and revel in the
moonlight, sitting on the rocks, and combing their flowing
locks. As the first streak of dawn appears they have to
return to their home, otherwise an ugly old water-dwarf
orders them home, and they dare not disobey him.

A French legend tells the story of a cloud-maiden, a kind
of mermaid, called Melusina. Raymond, Count de la Forot,
of Poitou, having unfortunately killed his patron during a
hunting excursion, fled into the deepest recesses of the forast.
After wandering for many hours, he came to a pleasant
glade, illumined by the moon. In the midst bubbled up

a limpid fountain and flowed away over a pebbly floor with

a soothing murmur. Xear the fount;iin-head sat three

maidens in glimmering white dresses, with long waving

111-
golden hair and faces of inexpressible beauty.* One

advanced towards Raymond, who was so charmed with her
beauty that he became betrothed to her before daybreak.
She became his wife with the restriction that she might pass
Saturday's by herself. This was agreed to, and for a time
all went well. One day, however, the Count, unable any
longer to restrain his curiosity, broke his promise, and made
the discovery that his wife, during the time thus given to
her, was transformed into a mermaid. He said nothing
about the matter until one day when, being angry with his
wife, he reproached her for being " a vile serpent, con-
taminator of his honourable race." Casting on him a pitiful
look, she disappeared for ever from his sight through the
castle wmdow. It it said, however, that whenever one of
the Lords of Lusignan is about to die she hovers about the
castle, moaning like a banshee.f

The story of LTndine is somewhat similar to the above ;
but she marries the knight Huldebrand in the hope of
obtaining a mortal soul. A Flemish legend tells of three
Nixies who came from the waves of the Meuse and danced
with the villagers at their vintage-feast. They .sang and
danced most gi-acefully ; and one of them, whilst dancing, took
off her gloves and handed them to a peasant. When the
clock struck twelve, the Nixies hastened away, but the
unlucky one who had taken off her gloves could not find
them again. She hastened away without them, but next
morning the waters of the Meuse were blood-red, and these
water-sprites were never seen again.

Among the peasantry of South Russia exists a belief in
water-nymphs resembling the Nereids of Modern Greece
and the female Nixies of Europe. In the Skazhas mention
is often made of beauteous maidens who live beneath the
waves, but can transform themselves at will into birds, and
fly wherever they please. They often appear as ducks,
geese, and other birds of the same species. They are the
daughters of ]\Iorskoi Tsar, or Water King, who lives
in a beautiful cave under the waters. At times he comes
forth to seize a human being, generally a boy, who eventu-
ally marries one of his daughters. They escape to the
upper world, but with much difficulty. J

A story is related about a prince, who, on account of a
promise made bv his father, was obliged to surrender him-
self to the Water Giant. He fell in love with a beautiful
maiden, who lived in the king's palace, and whom the king
had .stolen. She transformed herself into a ring, which the
prince carried about with him until he escaped from the
Water King, and then the fair maiden became his bride. §

Water-nymphs are also referred to in the mythology of
the Western hemisphere. jNIany stories are related about
them among the Red Indians. The Ottawas tell of a woman
called ]Monedo Kway, who bad a beautiful daughter. She
was so handsome that her mother feared she would be
stolen, so she put her in a box on the lake, and tied it by a
string to a stake on the shore. Every morning the mother
fed her daughter, and combed her long shining hair. Not-
withstanding the mother's great care, her daughter was
stolen by a superannuated old spirit called Iskhwon
Daimeka, who married her. After three years a storm
arose, and the waters destroyed the old spirit's cabin and
himself, and bore the foam-woman home to her mother.
But, alas ! her beauty had now left her, and the mother had
no longer any reason to fear that she would be stolen. ||

* Baring-Gould, " Curious Myths," p. 343.

t Fiske, " Myths and Myth-Makers," p. 97.

t Ralston. "Russian Folk Tales," p. 130. § Ibid. p. 143.

II Schoolcraft, " Hiawatha Legends," p. 213.

108

KNOWLEDGE

[March 1, 1888.

In Florida a beautiful legend is related about Wenona,
who loved a warrior named Ohuleotah. Unfortunately he
belonged to a tribe at war with her father, and during a
great "light the father killed him, bringing home the head as
a trophy. When Wenona gazed on the well-known features,
she fled from home, and cast herself in despair into a lake,
now called Silver Lake.* She still lives there, and on a
very clear day, when the waters aie shallow, her beautiful
palace can be seen. Her hair is the green moss that floats
in the water.

SCRATCHING IN THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.

By Professor Samuel Lockwood.

OR nearly two weeks, one midwinter, my
studies were pleasantly interrupted by a
nightly visit of that funny arachnidan,
Phalanglum dorsatura, Say. We often
hear it Ciilled Daddy-long-legs, which name
in England is given only to the long-legged
dipteran, the Tipula, or crane fly. My
visitor's domicile was a nook somewhere in
the library. As appearances are often deceptive, it would
not be safe to predicate a literary taste of my bookish
visitor, but the creature's measured gait and jjedal sprawl
over my written page did suggest the airs of a stilted critic.
And yet, to use a trade-phrase, with all its seeming bigness,
phalangium did not " size up much." Its egg-shaped body
was exactly a quarter of an inch in length, and an eighth
wide at its thickest part. Of its eight legs, each one in the
shortest pair measured an inch and five-eighths, and iu the
longest pair the measurement exceeded three inches, a con-
siderable spread for so little timber. There was quite a good
understanding between us. It would allow me to touch the
long, thread-like legs with my pen, and even to lift one up
above the others, and the queer thing would keep the limb
r'aised for several minutes, precisely as I would leave it, as if
it were hypnotised.

The phalangium is a member of a tribe of the spiders
known as the Pedipalpi, because the palps or feelers end, like
the feet of many insects, in a claw, sometimes a pair, thus
making a forceps. After my tickling bis perambulators,
Daddy seemed to have got his ideas started, for, having
adjusted his octapodal highness upon my manuscript in most
admiralile equipoise, he began the delectable exercise of
scratching his legs. I am sure that the operation was
enjoyable to him, while to me the sight was ver}' interesting.
If Captain Cuttle should find it necessary to try the flexibility
of a whip-stock, it is supposable that he would take the
handle in his left hand, and with a pressing motion pass the
whip for its entire length through the iron hook which
served for his right hand. The whip would thus take on a
loop-like curve, and would straighten itself out with some-
what of a snap. Just in this way did my spider scratch his
slender legs — for one at a time were these long elastic limbs
passed through the hook of the palp, when tlie limb would
be bent like a loop or bow in the process, and as it left the
hook or claw by its elasticity would do so with an almost
w'hip like snap.

The higher one ascends the animal scale in such observa-
tions, the more pronounced is found this habit of scratching
the skin surface of the body. Individually, Maud S. and
Coomassie may be " too high-toned " for such a practice.
But these creatures are coddled out of conscience by the
groom, who has the comb and the brush almost always on
their pelts; hence, if these "high bloods" come not to the

* Silver Lake is a short distance from Ocala in Marion County,
North Florida, and is quite a well-known resort.

sci'atch, it is because the scratch comes to them. Cushie
and Dray, put upon their own i-esources, enjoy hugely a
good rubbing self-administered against a tree or post.

Happening one day in my lady's boudoir, I picked from
the cabinet what I took for a pretty bit of bric-a-brac. It
was an ebony stem, about fourteen inches long, not thicker
than one's finger, and quite daintily turned. At one end
was attached a pretty little hand defth' wrought in ivory.
It could not be called a fist, for I noticed that the fingers
were only half closed. The nails were well developed, and
their ends or edges were set in a line. This artistic trifle
seemed to me made for some special purpose. A whisper
fi'om a friend enlightened my wonderment — " A back-
scratch." I caught at once. Now, I have read of a toy
formerly common in England, which at fairs or upon occa-
sions of a crowd would be passed over the back of a rustic,
when it made a noise like the tearing of cloth, and sugges-
tive of a rent behind, to the poor man's dismay. This, too,
was called a " back-scratch." But that was simply the
vehicle of a bit of mischief. My lady's back-scratch was for
use in that very much out-of-the-way place between the
shoulder-blades. This handy implement, though an article
of virtu, was in the line of luxury, although the ameni-
ties would hardly approve the indulgence before eyes polite.

The above reminds how gingerly and faulty the treat-
ment of the word is by the lexicographers. One would
think it only meant to abrade, lacerate, excoriate, whereas
how common the usage by which it signifies to titillate with
mild fi'iction I The Latin expresses the action nicely,
scabere culem leviter umjue, which in good English is simply
— to rub the skin lightly with one's nails. Pliny has aures
pedibtis, scratching the ears with the feet, which suggests
the experience of that tourist in Italy who rode a mangy
mare. The beast had a bad habit of stopping to scratch her
ears, and, the hind-feet being used for that purpose, the
thighs of the rider received all the benefit of the operation,
which, like tickling with a brickbat, was too crude for real
comfort. But the ungulates generally are bunglers at this
trick, though not insensible to opportunity, as witness
when our neighbour's cow got into the lawn, and, wild with
delight, went tearing through the soft evergreens, our pretty
arbor-vitfe trees, which was so much nicer than rubbing
against a fence.

It behoves to confess that Nature has been a niggard
in this matter unto man, having done less for him in this
line than she has for the beasts that perish. " The paragon
of animals " is the victim of irritation from eczema in a
hundred forms and degrees. Though having already thrown
a stone at the lexicographers, here goes another, for we must
cite from memory that churlish dictionary-maker, Dr.
.Johnson, who wrote in the first edition of his dictionary,
"Oat— a grain used in England to feed horses; in Scot-
land, men." Tiiis was very unbecoming. But the food
has much to do with the condition of the cuticle. Hence
we put together the Scotsman's " oaten cakes " and the
legend of the benevolent nobleman who set up scratching-
posts in the streets of Edinburgh, and the canny bene-
diction of each user of them, " God bless the Duke of
Argyll! "

On the physical or rather ]jhysiological side of the
question, a good deal might be said for this mild friction of
the skin. Near the surface — that is, just under the scarf,
or epidermis — the capillaries, almost microscopic blood-
veins, abound in well-nigh infinite numbers. Each of these
minute carriers or distributors of the crimson life-stream has
along its sides its complement of nerves nearly parallel.
Between these nerve-fibres lies the undifterentiated pro-
toplasm, or life-stuff, which is the supply of constructive
matter for the use of these tiny builders, for out of this life-

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE <►

109

matter, or bioplasm, each cell is built. But even mortar
may need quickening — so this life-stuff may become too
passive, that is, quasi torpid. These nervous fibrilhv are
the electric wires, and gentle friction is the dynamo to
generate the mysterious fluid and quicken the conductivity
along the lines.

Strange to say, this scratching has also its p.sychological
side. Let a puzzle be pro]5ounded, and why on the instant
does the nonplussed one institute a rummaging for an idea
in the hirsute thatch of his cranium 1 And everybody
does it, even he "of the front of Jove himself" more than
the beetle headed clown. We asked an explanation of our
encyclopedic friend who " knows it all," and quoted to him
the well-worn distich : —

Be mindful, when invention fails.

To scratch jour head and bite your nails.

Upon the word he began dishevelling his carefully brushed
hair, saying it was " a poser," and, by way of compli-
ment, that it " was not slow " ; to which our response,
" No, it's Swift " ; at which he laughed, though he had
quite missed the point, for he rejoined that he always
thought us " a little fast."

It is truly wonderful how lavishly and admirably Nature
has gifted many animals for this very exercise of scratch-
ing lighth' with the claws. At my feet lie Tom and
Dick, two good friends. The former is a fine young Mal-
tese, the latter an old black-and-tan. The cat's claws are
very sharp, the dog's are less so. Both animals are clean
and in good condition, yet both appear to take delight in
a good scratching at the back of tlie head, and especially
behind the ears. The hind-foot is the instrument used,
and with what delicacy — yes, nicety, or precision of ad-
justment I So rapidlj' does that foot move, that it makes
a fan-like shadow ; and so exact the distance at which
the keen, protruded claws are set, that it secures only a
delicate touching of the parts, producing the pleasant titil-
lation of the tousorial brush. Any coarser adjustment of
those needle-pointed hooks and the blood would flow from
the lacerated skin.

But, even more than with the mammals, is this cuticular
titillation a necessity with the ordinary fishes; and, since
they have neither hands nor feet, how is this want in their
case gratified ? I have witnessed the operation many times,
yet fear a failure to adequately describe it. The scaly coat-
ing of a fish needs an occasional cleaning, as does the
copper sheathing of a ship; for, with both, a foul surface
impedes progress through the water. On each side of a
typical fish is a thin line, known as the lateral line. It Ls,
in fact, a mucous canal, from which issues at the will of the
animal a lubricating fluid, which, spread over its scaly
sheathing, lessens friction, and so facilitates movement in
the water. This mucous line is made up of rows of pores,
which communicate with the slime-secreting glands. Leydig
discovered that each of these oil-producers had its own
nerve, thus constituting a series of sense-organs. And very
delicate is their sense, as by them the fish gauges the weight
of the water-mass, also the direction and resistance of
currents. But associated with these nerves, arranged in
tufts or buttons, are air-cells ; hence it seems certain that
the fish is able to appreciate vibi-ation in water, whose wave-
lengths are larger than are those of sound. The faculty of
appreciating the waves of light we call seeing, and similarly
of sound, hearing, whose waves are much larger than those
of light. But our scaly subject is endowed with a third
wave-measuring sense, in which possession it out-paragons
" the paragon " himself. It can appreciate the trills or waves
of water vibration, and of this facultj' our language has no
word to express the name.

Now these oil-yielding tubas above described may get

clogged, or the glands become torpid. Here, then, are sense-
organs to declare the state of afiixirs. Hence arises the
necessity for the animal either to clean oflT its body armour
or to stimulate into activity the indolent organs. And, in
fact, in other ways, fishes have their own eczema, or diseases
of the skin. Sometimes there is a blistering or deterioration
of the cutis, and sometimes a species of Saproleynui, a
fungous parasite, sets up a flocculent growth on the cuticle.
For any of these instances friction is the only remedy, and
its exercise is unquestionably pleasant to the fish.

But how can a fish scratch itself ] Sometimes in the way
C'ushie, as when she rushed through the evergreens. So

of

a fish will often dart through a dense clump of soft water-
weeds. But this amounts to little else than a gentle titilla-
tion. The scaly sheath is not to be cleansed so easily. I
have seen the performance many times, and by several
species, but none have so much interested me in this respect
as the sunfish. Take the one best known to the pin-hook
anglers, and often called "pumpkin-seed." There is a
boulder with a smooth, clean surfiice. The fish is steady ;
its big eyes seem of a sudden to glow with a blue light.
Every fin is set, even to the dorsal, which bristles with its
keen spines. The fish seems aiming for that stone. The
propulsion must come from the caudal and the side fins, but
mostly from the former. All these give a simultaneous
blow against the water ; at the same time, as if it were in
the way, the topsail — that is, the dorsal — falls and is snugly
reefed. All this is done in a moment, and such the force
that the fish truly darts, threatening to butt its nose against
the rock. The speed is high, but, just ere the rock is
reached, there is a marvellously sudden bend of the body,
the most convex point being the exact spot which is to be
scratched. Though very rapid, so well-timed is the move-
ment, and so nice the adjustment of the position, that the
pressure or amount of rub or friction is correctly received,
and the point of impact is precise, and the body glances
from the rock. The collision is so accurately gauged that
no harm is done. And similarl}', and with a great variety
of ingenious posturing, the fish subjects all parts of its body
to this treatment. It even contrives to scratch the top of its
head, by bringing the desired spot into the proper position
at the precise moment of tlie glancing impact with the stone.
The feat is delicate and deftly, as if an acrobat should in his
somersaults comb his hair against a rock with no harm done
every time.

Having enjoyed the use of a large aquarium for the study
of fishes, it has been an object with me to anticipate their
wants. Hence I have purposely given them scratching-
stones properly adapted to their needs. I was surprised
that a favourite object for this purpose was a large live
river-mussel, the Anodonta excurvata. The corrugations of
the shell, which mark its growth, form a series of smooth
ridges, upon and against which, with theii- contortions of
twists and bends and tilts, these fishes glance in scratching
themselves. As to ichthyic emotion one cannot saj' much.
That they enjoy these exercises I am sure ; and I almost
think they know their benefactor, for they come at his call
at feeding-time — though up to this present writing I have
not observed anything that miglit be interpreted as a grate-
ful recognition of benefits conferred ; certainly nothing com-
mensurate with the canny benediction, " God bless tlie Duke
of Argyll ! " — Popular Science Monthly.

Ax Indiana Monstrosity. — A two-headed child, near Prince-
ton, Ind., was born on January 9 to the wife of Henry Wilson, a
farmer living four miles from that city. It had two well-formed
heads, one just behind the other, and weighed twelve pounds. The
strangest feature about it was that the heads were covered with hair
three inches in length. The front head was more perfectly formed
as to features than the one behind, which had onlj- an indistinct
nose and mouth. The child only lived a few minutes after birth.

110

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

[March 1, 1888.

THE STARS OF OTHER TIMES.

HERE is a strange charm in contemplating
the star-strewn heavens, with the thought
in remembrance that as the constellations
are now, so were they in all the past ages
over which history extends its survey, and
beyond them throigh the ages when man
himself had scarcely begun to exist as a
reasoning race, and in ages still more remote when this earth
was inhabited by millions ofliving creatures, but by none who
could think about the wonders surrounding them. Here and
there a few stars have changed in lustre ; new stars have
appea,red and old stars have vanished ; the swifter motions
of a few (including some of the chief brilliants of the
heavens) have carried them to new positions among the
star-groupings, but in the main the scene presented by the
star-strewn heavens now is the same which was presented at
the beginning of the Christian era, the same which Ptolemy
and Hipparchus surveyed, the same which the builders of the
Gi'eat Pyramid studied more than five thousand years ago,
the same which the first races of men contemplated with
slowly growing intelligence, the same on which the eyes of
all animal races must from time to time have been turned
during the millions of years which have elapsed since life
began upon this earth.

Yet the aspect of the constellations, as seen from pai--
ticular latitudes or positions on the earth in long past ages,
differed notably from their aspect as seen from such places
now, even though the actual configuration of the star-
groupings was the same. The constellations being carried
round the polar axis of the heavens by the diurnal motion,
take varying positions above the horizon of any latitude,
these positions depending upon the position of that axis,
which is coincident, of course, in direction with the axis of
the earth. And owing to the reeling, or gyration, of the
earth's globe, her axis is constantly changing in direction.
It is inclined about 2.3^° to a perpendicular to the plane
of the earth's path, and thus, neglecting slight changes in
the position of this plane, the points on the heavens to
which the earth's axis is directed — that is, the poles of
the heavens — travel in circles about 47° in arc-diameter
around the poles of the ecliptic, the period of circuit being about
2-5,868 years. This suffices, of course, to modify very largely,
in long periods of time, the aspects of the constellations,
themselves unchanging, as they are carried by the diurnal
motion across the sky. The pre-sent north pole of the
heavens, for example, which lies due north about 514°
above the horizon of London, w^as more than 47° from the
point in the star-sphere which was the north pole 12,934
years ago ; so that at that time the present pole-star (not
quite coincident with the north pole, but near it) was
cai'ried round the actual pole in a circle 94° in arc-
diameter, ranging from an altitude of 4° or 5° above
the northern horizon to an altitude of 81° or 82° above the
southern hoiizin. Not only have the movements and
positions of individual stars been thus modified, but the
positions of star-groupings, when most favourably situated
for observation, have been so modified as in many cases to
make it difficult for us to understand how men in old times
came to imagine resemblance between star-groupings and
various objects, animals or otherwise, where now no trace
of resemblance is suggested when, those star-groups are
studied as actually seen in the heavens.

It has seemed to me that it would be interesting, and
might lead to results of considerable scientific and even
historic importance, to prepare a chart by means of which
the exact aspect of the heavens as seen at any hour of any
night in the year, from any given latitude, at any epoch in

the past or future, might be readily determined. All the
maps hitherto constructed to illustrate the effects of the
precession of the equinoxes have shown no more than
the movement of the north pole of the heavens around the
north pole of the ecliptic. What seemed wanted was a map
from which the position of the equator at any epoch might
be obtained at once ; and thence, by simple constructions,
any further information which might be required respecting
the appearance of the night skies at different hours and
seasons at that epoch.

The accompanying map is the northern map of a pair
which I have drawn for this purpose. (The southern map
is already engraved, and will appear next month.) It is
.simply a stereographic map of the heavens to a distance of
100° around the north pole of the ecliptic as centre. Thus
the Zodiacal zone is the outer zone — 20° wide — of the map ;
and the circle 23,V in arc-distance from the centre of the
map represents the apparent path of the pole of the northern
heavens.

The map being on the stereographic projection, it is a very
simple matter to mark in the equator (and colures if needed)
for any given epoch. Thus, suppose the epoch to be 276
B.C., or 21.j6 years before the date of the map (1880).
The precession of the equinoxes in 2156 years (one-twelfth
of 25,868 years, the precessional period) amounts to 30°
(one-twelfth of 360°). Thus, as the precessional motion
carries the crossing-point of the equator on the ecliptic to
meet the sun, we must take a point 30° in advance of the
present crossing-point ( r ), or to the first point marked «
in the map. This and the opposite point on the ecliptic,
marked iij;, are the crossing-points of the equator on the
ecliptic in the year 276 B.C. Then on the longitude circle
through r (that is, the radial line in the map to the point
on the ecliptic midway between the two just determined),
we measure off 23.5° towards the pole of the ecliptic — that
is, towards the centre of the map. A circle swept through
the point thus determined and the two crossing points
determined before, shows the position of the equator in the
year 276 B.C. This circle is shown by a dottecl arc in the
accompanying map. The corresponding position of the
north pole of the heavens at that time is shown on the
circle indicating the path of the pole, 30° in longitude from
the present position of the pole. The nearest visible star
is the 5th magnitude star 4 tlrsa^ Minoris. (The stars 4, 5,
(i and y of the Little Bear, doubtless formed the true Dog's
Tail — y marking the tip of the tail — not, as is commonly
said, the stars now forming the constellation Ursa Minor, a
group which can in no sense be likened to a dog's tail,
whereas the group of four stars very well might. This
Dog's Tail was the veritable polar-star group of the time of
Hipparchus ; and the name Kunosoura, or Dog-tail, served
well to indicate the pole of the heavens, though perhaps few
who use its modern form. Cynosure, and siieak of a centie
of attraction as " the cynosure of every eye," are aware of
the real meaning and orisin of the expression.

In the map there is also shown the position of the equator
in the time of the building of the Great PjTamid, some
3350 years before the Christian era. (The positions of the
pole in 3350 b.c. and 2170 B.C., equi-distant, as the map
shows, from a Draconis, serve to explain why for awhile
the later date was accepted as that of the building of the
Great Pyramid. But now there Ciin be no doubt that the
earlier date is the true one ; for Egyptology and the astro-
nomy of the Great Pyramid are brought by this date into
agreement, where;is the date 2170 B.C. is wholly inconsistent
with the Egyptian records by which the dates limiting the
dynasty of Cheops, Chephren, and the rest, have been
indicated.)

The position of the equator as thus assigned for the time

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

111

I.

THE ZODIAC

AND TH t

NORTHERN STARS

bj- RkW A.ft-octor

aS-

u^ =/£■

\Sr-*'-i-

.-'//»■:

**

Scale of
Star Ma^iiludes.

FO-st ^ ♦

Sectmd, ^

Third.- -♦

FewOl^ ♦

Fifth. A

^

%.

i^

U--

■"-o.

'*/

'^%-

Ti

^--

. \/-

\ \\"^

.. ■ 1

..-A

;^% \ • * i

^^-^Tt o: \ < ■ ' 1 l'

u J / .1 < / 1

g »;H'-' «

— -'Sojathial, WO'4^ a> Sfcte

h 'a

"■•n<r'4*,'

•^>0<X ■0^ t-vJir'

} ' '%

»s ■

f 1^-

mam^

R-,.

li"'

' .1 J

' ' . "'^'l

!

»»

.o?-»-

♦■ g'

B*^

ON THE

STEREOGRAPHIC
PROJECTION

Sivm. this chart the position of
the North PoU and. E^eUar at any
dtitEfhom.noS-i B.C to U.B14r A.D.
cart be at once det^moTLciL.

112

* KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

of the pyramid builders is important as apparently indi-
cating the aspect of the heavens at a time not very far from
that at which the most ancient of the constellations received
the names they still jetain. This point, and other matters,
will be considei'ed later, as well as the simple methods by
which a series of maps (for any date and latitude) — corre-
sponding to the maps of " The Stars in their Seasons " for
England and the present time — can be readily constructed.
{To he c07itinued.)

OLD AND NEW_ASTRONOMY.

AX AUTOIilOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

|0 explain the origin and purpose of " Old and
New Astronomy " — a treatise which has
been nearly a quarter of a century in pre-
paration— one or two personal matters have
to be touched upon, but I shall pass lightly
over such details.

In October 1864 I was led to enter on
scientific study by a domestic sorrow on which I had been
brooding too deeply for my health. I selected astronomy as
the subject which had greatest attractions for me, and, after
reading afresh certain treatises, including Ilerschel's '• Out-
lines of Astionomy," I sought for more detailed accounts of
problems which appeared to me full of interest. Dis-
appointed in this search, I began the preparation of the first
of a series of monographs which I proposed to produce, in
each of which an astronomical subject of special interest
was to be carefully studied. I proposed in these works to
deal with considerations which seemed to require fuller dis-
cussion than they had hitherto received, except in scattered
papers, technical and unduly elaborate in character, so as to
be calculated rather to load the back shelves of the libraries
of learned societies than to instruct the world. In this
way, and as yet by no means appreciating either the extent
of the work I was attempting, or exactly what was fittest
for my purpose, I wrote my treatise " Saturn and its
System." I proposed to follow this up with similar ti'eatises
on Jupiter and Mars (of Mercury, Venus, Uranus, and
Neptune, we know too little for monographic work), the
sun, the moon, comets and meteors, the stars, star clusters,
and nebulcB.

When " Saturn " had been published, I was led to defer
my general plan for a while, in order to prepare a series of
star charts (my " Gnomonic Star Atlas "), suggested during
the preparation of that work ; and in prepai'ing the atlas I
collected the materials for my " Handbook of the Stars." I
had already begun, however, a monograph on Mars, when,
in May 186(5, a stroke of fortune deprived me of the means
which had enabled me to carry on the work I had begun
without any anxiety respecting the commercial success of
the several volumes required for its completion. I had
become too much attached to the work to be willing to turn
wholly from it ; yet it seemed as though other duties would
force me to do so. Most occupations by which I could hope
to support my family would have debarred me from all
chance of continviing my work effectively. I determined
that I would not seek for such employment in what is
sometimes (I can scarcely imagine why) called " professional
astronomy " — as, for instance, work in Government observa-
tories or in collegiate teaching — as some appear to have
found compatible with independent research and the work of
scientific exposition. I was satisfied that I could do no
good work in that way in the line I wished to follow, even
if I had deemed it honest to accept a salary for doing one kind
of work while devoting my main energies to another. Neither

ob.servatory work nor college teaching tend effectively to widen
one's views of the great problems of astronomy; while too often
it is found that ofiicial position, whether among the rank and
file or in command, tends to warp both mind and character,
and to diminish mental elasticity, versatility, and originality.
I had already recognised the signs of this so clearly in
treatises coming from such sources that I decided to retain
the independence of my position, even though at the cost
of some personal inconvenience.

After a year or two of interruption in my work, and
considerable anxiety about other matters, I found what I
sought in scientific literature, to which later I added
scientific lecturing. I was able to turn my scientific note-
books to useful account by employing their contents as the
materials for scientific exposition, finding that the general
public needed only clearness and simplicity of expression,
and the avoidance of unnecessary technicalities, to accept
scientific teaching as they accept history, fiction, and kindred
literary matter. Moreover, in the work of popular exposi-
tion I obtained unexpected help in my scientific researches.
I found that the endeavour to present the results of scientific
reasoning clearly and cogently affords a severe test of their
accuracy. Often I have had to modify and moi'e than once
to abandon a theory, which, until exposed to this test, had
appeared sound in all its parts. Even in lecturing I have
recognised this quality in the task of explanation ; while
repeatedly also new ideas outside the theories I had already
formed on specific subjects have been suggested during the
actual progress of a lecture, for digestion and assimilation
(if approved) at later leisure. Moreover, my lighter scien-
tific treatises, essays, and lectures, have often brought me
into correspondence with other students of science having facts
of interest to communicate, or thoughts of value to suggest.
Thus, then, the two lines of work I had undertaken
were continued together, each progressing at first slowly, but
afterwards more effectively, until I had overcome the initial
difficulties (which some had told me must necessarily be
overwhelming), and had little further anxiety about either
portion of my work. I was for a time interrupted, indeed,
hy the effects of a mistake I made in entering for a time on
work connected with the Royal Astronomical Society, a
body vexed with many turmoUs, from whose pei'turbing
influences I had trouble in withdrawing myself. I had,
however, the satisfaction of knowing that I had fallen into
this annoyance in the pursuance of a scientific duty, the
correction of certain eirors into which the chief official
astronomer of that time (Sir G. B. Airy) had fallen re-
specting the transits of Venus in 1874 and 1882. I am not
sure that apart from the improvement of the Government
schemes for observing both transits which resulted from the
inquiry, my labours were not fully repaid by the attention I
was then able to direct to the fact, too commonly over-
looked, that official scientists are the servants of the public
(which includes scientific volunteers), and not .set in
authority over them. I was simply correcting inferior
work of the chief of our paid astronomical servants —
usually, it must be admitted (nay, I have always pro-
claimed) one of the hardest- working and most trustworthy
of our Government astronomers.

But while I was able at once to maintain those whom it
was vay duty to maintain, and to continue my scientific
work, I was not able to continue the productiion of the
proposed series of monographs, A monograph on Mars,
ofl:ered in turn to three leading publishing firms, was re-
jected by all of them. A large atlas on a new plan, since
successfully carried out, was declined not only by publishers,
but by the Astronomical Society. My " Other Worlds than
Ours," in which I presented a brief absti'act of my views on
astronomy, had to appear under the guise of a popular

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

lis

treatise to gain acceptance. Luckily, under this guise, the
book was commercially successful.* The " Sun " was only
in appearance a resumption of my original plan. Even a;5
it was, the work was not sufficiently popular, and many
passages in the first edition which haJ been most carefully
written had to be removed from later additions, a.s too
difficult for the general reader. The " Moon " was nearer the
mark, at least as regards the first half of the first edition.
But here again the reading public showed that they must
not be invited to anything like arduous study, or even to
any prolonged efibrt of reasoning. The best parts of the
work had to be excised from the later editions. My
"Cleometry of Cycloids," and the books in which I discussed
the Transits of Venus, were naturally regarded as still less
suitable for the general public, though simple enough, I had
thought, for all readers.

But while the plan for producing separate treatises had
to be given up, I continued to keep in view the general
work in which I had proposed to present in popular
form a summary of the results presented in fuller detail in
those monographs. " Old and New Astronomy " is the
treatise thus planned as far back as in 186-t, though it need
hardly be said that the original plan has been largely
modified during its subsecjuent development. The plan of
this genei-al work has been indicated elsewhere. So far as
I know, no work of the same scope is in existence.

ROYAL VICTORIA HALL.

{To the Editor q/" Knowledge.)

X the 14th inst. an exceedingly interesting
lecture was given by Mr. Wethered on
" Volcanoes and Earthquakes." It is diffi-
cult to give an absti-act of a lecture which
depended so much on the gi'eat beauty and
interest of the slides shown. One set of
these were taken by a San Francisco photo-
grapher during the recent eruption in
Hawaii, and sent over by H.M.'s Consul in San Francisco
specially for this lecture. They were taken at intervals of
five minutes, and showed the progress of the lava. The
first showed the molten stream just slipping over a cliff into
the lake below. In the next the heated mass falling into
the water had already begun to generate clouds of steam.
Before long these obliged the photographer to shift his
position, and the series ended with a photograph taken
some time later, when the lava (which had entirely filled
up the little lake before mentioned) was cool enough in
places to walk on, and a scene of more entire desolation
could not be imagined. Other views were taken in the
crater of Mauna Lua, others again in the Bay of Naples ;
while a very interesting set showed the scene of the fearful
eruption in New Zealand, including a portrait of the old
chief who a few days before predicted an awful calamity.
This he did because he was vexed at being refused a loan by
a neighbour, but he did not beUevc in his own prediction
.sufficiently to run away, and he was killed by the eruption.
Passing on to earthquakes, the lecturer said eruptions were

* Except Sir John Herschel and Mr. Herbert Spencer in England,
Gerigny in France, and Oscar Peschel in Germany, few recognised
the real purport of that work, which critics agreed in discussing
from the point of view of those who take interest in the scarcely
scientific problem of life in other worlds. Peschel recognised the
chapters on the stars as deliberately challenging the accuracy of
the Herschelian theory of the stellar universe, and, after an ex-
haustive analysis, decided that that theory was shown to be abso-
lutely untenable.

always preceded by earthquakes, but their causes were not
certainly known. In Japan a veiy delicate apparatus is in
use for recording the shocks. A very slight jerk sets up an
electric current by which one clock is stopped (recording the
precise second of the shock), while other clockwork is set in
motion by which paper is drawn across the point of a
pencil. Thus the varying regularity and direction of the
dots and .strokes on the paper indicate the force and direc-
tion of the shocks. So delicate is this apparatus that it
shows not merely actual shocks, but so-called " earth
tremors," which seem to be due to the action of the wind on
the earth. One theory of earthquakes attributes them to
the shrinking of the earth's crust as it cools, which causes
sufficient pressure to liquefy some of the rocks in the
interior. As they liquefy they expand, and .shake the earth
above them in their efforts to make room or find a vent.
Another theory is that water, penetrating through cracks to
the hot interior, is changed into steam, and produces the
same effect. Profe.?sor Milne's opinion is that earthquakes
are the result of both causes combined, and his opinion is of
weight, since he has for years been studying earthquakes
under the mo.st favourable circumstances in Japan, where
they have an average of two daily !

'The lecture concluded with a set of very interesting
photographs, taken in Charlestown just after the earthquake
there. In these the apparently capricious action of the
destructive force was very striking. One house might be
reduced to utter ruins, while the next was almost un-
touched.

The chairman (the Hon. and Rev. Canon Pelham) pro-
posed a vote of thanks, which was very heartily responded to.

The leeturas in prospect are — February 28, Mr. E.
Hodder on Lord Shaftesbury : March tj, Dr. R. D. Roberts
on "Nature's Sculpturing Tools"; March 13, Profe.ssor
Sylvanus Thompson, " Electric Bells " ; March 20, Dr.
A. Wynter Blyth, '■ Food and its Adulterations " ; March
■21, Dr. Litton Forbes, " The Great Ice Age."

C. A. Martixeac.

1 CUfton Place, Sussex Square, W.C.

IN THE BEGINNING.'

< I long as human vanity, fed and supplemented
bv man's ignorance of the nature of his
surroundings in the cosmos, prompted him
to believe that our tiny world was the end,
centre, and cynosure of all creation ; that
the sun, moon, and stars and all the host of
heaven were called into existence solely for
his beuetit and guidance, and even in some sort that they
might influence and reveal his destiny; in short, that the
entire visible universe was brought forth by the fiat of
Omnipotence for his behoof, and for that alone ; just so long
was he content to accept such l(?gends and myths as that
which appears, in two totally separate forms, in the opening
chapters of (Jenesis as an actual historical account of the
origin of the earth with its living wonders, the sky, and the
infinity of suns and worlds of the macrocosm. The first
blow (albeit, in the then existing state of knowledge it was
but a feeble one) inflicted on this belief was by the putting
forth by Copernicus of that theory of the solar system
which placed the sun in its centre, and converted the
hitherto suppo.sititious heart of the universe into an insig-
nificant member of a numljer of bodies revolving round
that mighty source of light and heat. Ajid, necessarily as

* " The Story of Creation : a Plain Account of Evolution." By
Edward Clodd. (London: Longmans, Green & Co. 188S.)

114

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

astronomical knowledge advanced, and it was found that
while a persistent and unintermittent journey to the then
outermost known boundary of the solar system pursued at
the rate of fifty miles an hour would occupy 1,800 years
(it would take 6,1 i5 years to travel to the last-discovered
planet Neptune at the same rate I), and when it was further
realised that our entire system was but an impalpable
mote of dust in the immensity of space, then, and not till
then, did men begin to question that story of the world
they dwelt on which had so long satisfied the;ii. And,
treading closely on the heels of the astronomer, came the
geologist, who showed ii'refragably, from the mere thick-
ness and superposition of the strata of the earth's crust,
that a^ons of ages must have been required for the
deposition and consolidation of those rocks, which it had
been aforetime believed were the work of a day or two,
some 5,000 years or so previously. Furthermore, from
the rocks, thus interpreted, did the palajontologist ex-
tract the remains of a series of plants and animals ranging
back to an antiquity so hoary as to baffle our finite con-
ception and merely appal us ; and then the comparative
anatomist and physiologist showed the affinity of these
extinct types with those existing, and pointed out how a
certain continuity of plan had persisted from the dawn of
life, so far as it was traceable. But this was all. Maillet,
Butfon, and Lamarck all advocated, with increasing clear-
ness, the theory of development and variation, having its
origin in the surroundings of animal and vegetable life ; a
theory revived by Dr. Eobert Chambers in the days of our
fathers, in his now but unfrequently I'ead " Vestiges of
t'reation;" but dawning popular enlightenment on this ques-
tion was opposed and crushed by the dead weight of theo-
logical ignorance, intolerance, and actively exerted authority,
and, up to within the last twenty or thirty years, the special
creation and absolute immutability of every plant and
animal was a creed, to doubt which was to be anathema
maran-athft. The lion, the horse, tlie cat, the ape, and a
fortiori, man himself, was each held to be the lineal descendant
of an identical prototype, which appeared by the fiat of the
Almighty much after the fashion of the egg which becomes
visible in the fingers of the conjurer, who an instant before
has invited his audience to " perceive that he has nothing in
his hand ! " The wonderful revolution in thought which
has occurred in our own day with reference to the history of
creation may be said to have had its inception — as pointed
out by Mr. Clodd in the delightful volume now before us —
in the sailing of that Newton among naturalists, Charles
Darwin, from Plymouth in II. M.S. JJeai/l,, on December 27,
IS.'U. Upon the observations made during that voy.agew.as
founded that imperishable theory, subsequently elaborated
by continuous research, and embodied in the year 1859 in a
book that will survive as long as the language in which it is
written — we mean of course " The Origin of Species "—in
wliich the ground was at once and for ever cut from under
the feet of those who insisted that species were the visible
results of primordial acts of special creation. Yet farther.
Physicists, of whom I^aplace may for our present purpose be
held to have been the first, have traced back our earth and
its congeners from the time when the geologist shows it to
us superficially solidified, but still calid with internal heat,
to a period when it formed part of a stupendous mass of mere
glowing mist or vapour ; while at tbe other end of the scale
psychologists and moral philosophers, among whom Herliert
Spencer is facile jirinceps, have applied the doctrine of
development to ethics, and shown how the very foundations
of morality and religion are en.shrined in the words, " For
all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this : Thou shalt
love thy neighbour as thyself." Now, works exist in which
cosmical physics are moi'c or less pojiularly treated of. Such

noble volumes as those of Lyell and Geikie enable the
student to trace the history of the earth from the first
formation of a continuous hard envelope on its surface down
to the present instant. To say nothing of Darwin's own
immortal " Origin of Species," writers like Romanes in
" The Scientific Evidence of Organic Evolution," and Oscar
Schmidt in bis " Descent and Darwinism," have done much
to popularise the theory of natural selection ; while Herbert
Spencer himself, the late Professor Clifford, the editor of
this magazine, Miss Naden, and others, have equally suc-
ceeded in familiarising us with the essential principles under-
lying all real ethics. It has, however, been reserved for Mr.
Clodd, in his latest work, to unite these .seemingly discrete
branches of the subject into one harmonious whole, and to
tell sequent!)' the story of the evolution of the visible
universe, from its inception in a mass or masses of glowing
vapour to the completion of the cosmos, as we know it, in
all its appalling complexity. And surely this astounding
history has never been told more popularly, perspicuously,
and pleasantly than iu the volume before us. In the
very ovatset its author defines Force and Energy in
terms which cannot but be helpful to the but too often
puzzled student of dynamics, and gives an elementary
exposition of the nature of matter which contains the
pith of many more pretentious treatises. Then, after a
i-apid sketch of the earth as a planet, he proceeds to trace
her past life history, and to tell the story of the appear-
ance and development of organised beings upon her
surface — from the awfully remote date of the first traces
of fueoid and foramiuiferal forms, through the mollusca,
tlie strange and weird types of Crustacea, fish and rep-
tiles, the giant mammalia, the ape, the cave-man,
and so to Shakespeare, Newton, and Darwin himself.
This is followed by a dissertation on present Life-forms, in
which embryology is invoked to show how each being in
the course of its development from the ovum passes through
all the stages which in its progenitors formed the final and
permanent life-forms, and hence supplies, as it were, a pic-
torial history of its origin, or series of ancestral portraits.
In all this the unity of Nature is most strikingly brought
out. In the second part of his work our author treats of
the mode of becoming and growth of the universe, and shows
how it had its origin in the co-existence of matter and
power. He then descants, in a most lucid style, on the origin
of life and life-forms. In equally per.spicuous fashion does
he discuss the origin of species, explaining and enforcing the
doctrine of its immortal discoverer. And this part of his
work we would earnestly commend to those who conceive that
they reply to the Darwinian argument by demanding to be
shown the missing links between existing types and their
progenitors. Cavillers of this kind may learn here how
very shallow their objections really are. The volume con-
cludes with an account of social evolution, including
under that head the evolution of ethics and theology, of
which part of Mr. Clodd's work it must suffice to say here
that it will come as a revelation to a very large number of
persons who are — or believe themselves to be — extremely
religious. To any who have ever read Mr. Clodd's
delightful " Childhood of Religions," or, in fact, who have
acquaintance with any of his writings at all, it must seem
almost an impertinence to insist on the charm of his style.
Assuredly that charm is conspicuous enough in the work
now before us. The volume is well and abundantly illus-
trated, but in connection with the frontispiece we must
caution the non-astronomical reader thc.t the wood-block
has been turned on its side, and that to view its delineation
of the wonderful nebula surrounding 0 Orionis, as it is
actually seen in the telescope, the engraving should be
viewed with the title-page beneath it.

March 1, 1888.]

KNO^A^LEDGE

115

EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE.

By Ada S. Ballix.

IX.— DEMOXSTRAXIVE AND PRONOMINAL ROOTS.

IROFESSOR MAX MULLER has distinguished
two kinds of roots — the predicative, denoting
either existences or ;ictions, and the demon-
sfrafive, marking positions or localities of
existences or actions. Thus, taking as a con-
crete example the root eat, which simply
expresses an action, and the roots /lere,
there, i/onder, expressive of positions in which an ac-
tion may take place, we can, using them in a Chinese
fashion, get the sentences : Eating here = I eat ; eating
there = thou eatest ; eating yonder := he eats, which
would be expressed in gesture language by imitating the
movements of mastication and pointing to oneself for " I
eat," to one's interlocutor for " thou eatest," and to the person
referred to for " he eats," or, in the case of the absence of that
person, by making the sign used to represent him.

I have discussed as exhaustively as space permitted the
first class of these roots described in a former article * —
namely, those signifying action or quality, whence by far the
greater number of words is derived — and I have shown the
probable origin of these " units of speech. ' It is now time
to consider the second and less important class, composed of
roots which signify position. There are not more than a
dozen of these roots, and some of them were probably
derived from one original. From this class come the
interrogatives, roots generally containing k, the demonstra-
tives, containing f or n. the personal pronouns, possessives
and relatives, with the adverbs of position and direction.
It is very noticeable that suchlike words are not confined to
any one family of languages.

It has been suggested, as Whitney says, not without some
degree of plausibility, that the pronominal roots in Indo-
European and other languages have a sort of physical
raison d'etre. Ma, our me, is produced by closed lips, as if
shutting out the rest of the world, while the demonstrative
ta, our that, is produced by the thrusting forward of the
tongue in the mouth, as if to point at the object signified ;
and the same suggestion may be made with regard to Semitic
pronouns, as ani, Hebrew and Arabic, " I "; atlu ov ant,
'■ thou," which, as a final enclitic, becomes ta ; asher or
Arabic hatha, " that " ; also Arabic thalik.

On some such theory may perhaps be explained the
resemblance of Aryan and Semitic pronouns, as, for
example, Hebrew hoo, Arabic hooa, " he " ; Hebrew ham^
(pronounced like " lame "). Arabic humma, " them."

Our primitive fathers, like children and savages, did not
distinguish between object and subject. The accusative of
the first person historic;illy preceded the nominative ; hence
ma, mi are attached to the first person of the verb, not ego,
aham. The Sanskrit aham, according to Benfey, grew
out of an older form, maham. The nominative plural in
Lith. is iiie~s, in 0. Prus. mes, in O. Slav, mu, in Ossetic
mach, in Lapp mi, in Pali mayam, and in Greek and
Latin there are the verbal endings men and mus, as in
tuptomen, scribimus. The change of in into vj is by no
means rare. A gentleman from Cierman Switzerland told
the late Professor Key that where he lived all the people
said mir sagen in preference to loir sagen ; and in the
Lithuanian the nominative and accusative ve-du and mu-
du coexist. The Sanskrit plural nominative is vayam,
formerly doubtless mayam, as in Pali. The Zend is vaein,
and the Gothic veis. The interchange of the liquids m and

» Vol. ix. p. 286.

71 is very common. In Sanscrit in the oblique cases of the
dual and plural, we find 7idn and mis, in the Zend dual no
and ne, Greek dual ndi, Latin plural nominative nos.
Although the Lapp language is not supposed to belong to
the Indo-European family, its pronouns closely resemble
them. Thus, according to Fiellstrum t : —

The Nom. is mon, I todu, thou soden, he

„ Gen. „ mo, of me to, of thee so, of him

From parne, son, comes parnam, my son ; from nipe, knife,

niput, thy knife ; from aija, grandfather, aijahs, his

grandfether. In a related language, Tcheremissian, we
find i :—

ata-m, my fiither ischlene-m,

ata-t, thy „ ischtene-t

ata-sha, his „ ischtene-she,

ata-na, our ,, ischtene-ne,

ata-da, your „ ischlene-da,

ata-shl, their „ | ischtene-sht,

Eask § gives the Lapp pronouns as follows ;-

Nom. mon, I don, thou

PI. mi, we di, ye

Gen. mo, of me di'i, of thee

Yhael i| gives the Finn pronouns as : —

Nom. mina, 1 sina or tdm.a, thou

PI. me, we te, j'e or you

Gen. minun, mine tiimdn, thine

I do

thou doest
he does
we do
you do
thev do

son, he
SI, they
si'i, of him

hiin or se, he
lie, they
hanen, his

Out of a list of ninety negro languages, in more than
seventy the pronouns of the first person consist of w«, man,
me, mi, inu, na, ne, 7ii, in, or ;« and n as a prefix, and m,
n, or nj is used in a similar way in Asia, Siberia, and
America.

The plural of the first personal pronoun is natui-ally an
extension of the singular, and whether we find it with an
a, a ic, or a v, we can easily trace its original form to the
radical consonant m, with its idea of inwardness or sub-
jectivity. Similarly with the second person in forms with
(/, th, dh, or .~, we trace the original t — the thrusting forward
of the tongue as in pointing to a person or object ; and
hence we find a close relationship existing between the
second personal pronoun and the demonstrative. The
Sanscrit neuter nominative tat = this. T/iis, that in
Arabic is dha and dhii ; Hebrew, zeh. The Slavonic
languages have demonstrative pronouns beginning \vith t,
like the Greek to, tov ; in Mongol ere this cori'esponds to
tere, th.at, like our here and there, and oiiha and touba = this
and that. The Lapp demonstrative is daat or dat. The Sanscrit
relative and interrogative is ka-s, with the dhdtii, kinn, Ionic
Kov, Kij, KOTcpos; guichat and quirhere =^ our ivhat and tohere.
Our ichicli is from a former irhiik. In Portuguese we find
5Mem srt6e .?" who knows ? " Spanish qiden sabe ? Sardinian
chini, interrogative and relative: Turkish kirn or kim, with
a variety kih : while the Finnish has cu-ca (Lat. quisque)
and ken-kfi as interrogatives, ciiin as a relative, and cu-mpsi
as the equivalent of the Latin nter (formerly cuter). Old
Slav, has the forms chlso or cheso for interrogation, and
Mongolian ke7i ? who, which. One form of the interrogative
in Lapp is gi, " who ? " gen. geen, " whose t " g superseding
the Finnish k. In Chinese inten-ogative adverbs the k
sound predominates — ki-to, " how much ? " kl-td, " how
great?" khshl, "at what time?" "when?" sien-M-nien,
" how many years ago ? " k'l at the beginning of a sentence
is interrogative (quomodo), and in Chinese literature hi,
ho, and yen are used as interrogatives. The striking
resemblances of distinct families of speech with regard to

t Gram., p. 32.
§ Eask's Gr., p. 79.

t Ibid., pp. 20, 21.
II P. 41.

IIG

♦ KNOWLKDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

the interrogative h would lead us to assume a physical
reason for its use; but with regard to this I can only
hazard a conjecture that .just as the voice is raised in
interrogation, so the tip of the tongue thrust forward for
the demonstrative dental t rises in sympathy with the voice
for the palatal h of interrogation. T and k, it will be
remembered, are frequently interchanged. With regard to
the affirmative particle I hardly dare even venture a guess ;
but I would suggest that when, in the gesture of affirma-
tion— the forward nod — the teeth are clo.sed, the expulsion
of the air throvigh them which sometimes takes place in the
sudden nod would give rise to a hissing sound s orshi, while
if the mouth is partially opened an i or yi sound would
result. Some such cause must be at the root of the
resemblances in the affirmative particle which we find in so
many languages of different families. For example, it
is noteworthy that slii, jen, and ;/lil express acqui-
escence "yes" in Chinese, and may be compared, at
any rate as far as sound goes, with our >/es ; German ja.
In Arabic i>/ answers to our i/es or yea when followed by an
oath.

Although the origin of the affirmative particle is not
satisfactorily discovered, that of the negative is quite clear.
When the infant is not hungry, or does not wish to take
anything into its mouth, it moves its head from side to side
to avoid the object offered, at the same time closing its lips
tightly, and when the voice is exerted through the closed
lips the sound m or /i is given out.* This accounts for the
widespread use of these sounds to express the negative, as in
the Greek ;)((', Latin ne, whence nego, French nier, Illyrian
nekaii, On. neila, vita, to sny iie, " deny, refuse." It will
be remembered that the expression of the negative is usually
accompanied by a lateral shake of the head.

The simplest form of the negative in Latin and Teutonic
languages is ne, whence iwn from ne-unum, old form nenu,
in the same way as our none from ne one or no one, German
nein. from ne-ein, and later English no. From it the
Romans got the compounds ne-quis, ne-cuter {neuter), nuUiis,
the substantive ne-inon-, German, nie-mand, the adverbs
nunqiiain, n\isquam, and the verbs ne-queo, ne-scio, ne-
uolo, afterwards nolo. In Anglo-Saxon we have nis, " is
not," niU, " was not," ic ndt, " I wot not," >c nah, " " I own
not," with ic nali, "I own;" ic nabbe, " I have not," if
nelle, '"I will not," with a perfect noMe, similar to our
expression ii:illy-niUii, "whether he will or no." Jamieson
gives the old Scotch nam, " am not," 7wr, " were not,"
nat, " wot not," as well as nold. The very word not itself is a
similar compound of Gothic ni-raiht, Anglo-Saxon naiviht,
German nicht, and our nawjht. Chaucer says, " They knew
him navght." Old Scotch has noct, E.. Brunne noght, and
Robert of Gloucester 7iogt. Lat. non is reduplicative, and
has a stronger sense than ne, as in the repetitive French ex-
pressions ne . . . pas, ne . . . point, ne . . . rien. Ma. is one
of the forms of the negative in Semitic languages ; in
Hebrew it is used as an interrogative, and in Arabic as the
negative of the definite or absolute present, and of the
perfect not. In Arabic there is also an interrogative form,
amd (used in the same way as the Latin nonnc), with
dialectic varieties, ama, liamd, liama, &c. ; in Hebrew there
is also a form with the interrogative he, followed by xm.
Another form of the negative is la in Aiabic, lb and al in
Hebrew, probably a derivative from the older ni form.
Both are combined in the Arabic lam, negative of the per-
fect lamma, '' not yet" ; Heb. lamma, " why? "

In oaths the Hebrew im is a negative particle, but it
commonly means if. Probably the original meaning of im

* See "Thought and Language," x. Knowledge, vol. vii.,
pp. 474-47.5.

was " is it not ? " A in in Hebrew ^ nothing, or 7iot ; as in
a in lee, I have not, is also used in an interrogative sense,
'• where," Arab, ai/in. Indeed, in most languages the
negative readily passes into the interrogative, as, " Is it not
so t " In Chinese the negative adverbs are : 7nii, " to be
without "^no or not, the opposite of yii', " to have ":=" yes
there is"; pil, not, the most common negative, which has no
other use ;_/?, " not to be — false," it is not opposed to sM, " to
be" = ''yesit is"; wn, "not to have " = '• without " = m«-
i/iii, also much used (the Canton dialect expresses the nega-
tive of possession by mo) ; mo, •' not, do not," a synonym of
p)'', " not," and m in the Canton dialect, which is the
equivalent of the mo and pn of the books.

Here pa and /(' have doubtless their origin in the pooh,
faugh sound with which we reject a nauseous morsel, and
similarly an unpleasant proposition, while the w in wil is
most likely the phonetic representative of the earlier form
with in. With regard to the interrogative use of the
negative as in Aryan and Semitic languages, in Chinese mo
is a final interrogative in the Mandarin, and n'l in the
Canton dialect. In Chinese, as in several other languages,
two negatives make an affirmative : thus, mo-fl, in ngo mo ft
shivo-]nixing pu ch'tng, "I surely do not lie at all," and
uutf'i, and /7 with pa ai'e similarly used, as/7 fil pit. k'o,
" cannot do without him." IF?? is sometimes u.sed as a pro-
hibitive " Do not I " and so also is mo when it stands alone.

Asironomt/ for Amateurs. Edited by John A. West-
wood Oliver. With the Assistance of T. W. Backhouse,
F.R.A.S. ; S. W. Burnham, M.A., F.R.A.S. ; J. Rand
Caprox, F.R.A.S.; W. F. Denning, F.R.A.S.; T. Gwvn
Elger, F.R.A.S. ; W. S. Franks, F.R.A.S.; J. E. Gore,
M.R.I.A., F.R.A.S. ; Sir Howard Grudb, F.R.S., F.R.A.S. ;
E. W. Maundee, F.R.A.S. ; and others. (London : Long-
mans, Green, & Co. 1888.) — Mr. Westwood Oliver and his
very able stafT of coadjutors have produced a work of endur-
ing value to the astronomical student in the volume before
us, of which it is not too much to say that it should be
carefully studied by every incipient observer who hopes or
wishes to do any work whatever of scientific value. For it
is especially with such work, as contradistinguished from
mere desultory stai'gazing, that this capital little book con-
cerns itself; and, no matter to what special branch of
astronomy the beginner proposes to devote his energies, he
will here find explicit directions, from a master hand,
for the most successful method of prosecuting his studies,
and enriching science by the results of his personal labour.
After a preliminary discourse on the leading divisions
of astronomical research by the editor, we have a thoroughly
practical chapter on the telesco)je and observatory by Sir
Howard Grubb. Then ISIr. Maunder follows with an
equally practical one on solar observation ; while it is only
necessary to mention Mr. Elger's name as the author of
the chapter on the moon to indicate its value and excel-
lence— a remark which we may equally extend to Mr.
Denning's dissertations on the planets and on meteors.
The last-named gentleman also contributes a chapter on
comet-seeking. The subject of double stars is admirably
treated by him who is Jacile princeps as their observer and
discoverer — we mean, of course, Mr. S. W. Burnham ;
while equal justice is done to that of variable stars by Mr.
Gore. Mr. Backhouse and Mr. Baird Gemmill treat
jointly on stellar distribution; a chapter on the zodiacal
light being founded on contributions by the gentleman first
named and Mr. Arthur Searle. The work concludes with

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LKDGE

11^

a short account of the methods of observing the (ques-
tionably astronomical) phenomenon of the aurora by Mr.
J. Rand Capron. "SVe think that our mere precis of
the contents of the volume whose title heads this notice
will practically suffice to justify the terms of commenda-
tion in which it commences. Certainly no more useful
work to the beginner has yet appeared. A very careful
perusal of it has failed to reveal more than three obvious
errata. The iirst occurs on page 129, where it is alleged
that "the solar parallax ... is now adopted at S'TS',"
which is certainly not the case. The parallax adopted ia
this country is SS4S", while the Belgian results make it
greater still. At the time we write the American ones
have not been made public. Perhaps the author was think-
ing of Dr. Gill's Mauritius results, which are — Dr. Gill's
and nobody else's : and of which he himself says ('' Dunecht
Observatory Publications." vol. ii. p. -1-), "We do not
attach very much importance to the value of the parallax
deduced." The second mistake appears on page 1.30, where
it is alleged of Venus, in and close to inferior conjunction,
that " the interior region of the disc is seen perceptibly
lighter than the dark background of the sky on which it
is projected." Practical observers of repute have seen it
darker than the light background of the sky on numerous
occasions, so that the statement as it stands is far too
unqualified. The third error we have noted is in the
engi-aving of the ••Aurora theodolite" on page 3li, where
that instrument is represented with an object-glass which
has, in reality, no existence.

Capital: a Critical Analysis of Capitalist i'roduction.
By Karl Marx. Translated by Samuel Moore and
Edward Avelisg, and edited by Frederick Excels.
(London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey it Co. 1887.) — •
"The common-sense reader, unfamiliar with the rudiments of
political economy, will rise from the perusal of this com-
bination of virulent declamation and pseudo-scientific
exposition with a feeling akin to that experienced by the
incipient logician when he makes his firat acquaintance
with the old puzzle of Achilles and the Tortoise. He will
find a good dei^l that appears to him at fii-st sight in-
expugnable in the shape of sequent argument ; but under-
lying which he feels intuitively there is some stupendous
fallacy. It is only upon re-reading Herr Marx's two
volumes that he will thoroughly realise how the dominant
TDotive of their author is an almost insane class-hatred ; and
how, in his endeavour to gratify it, he is absolutely in-
different whether he is dealing with fact or fiction. An
extract taken absolutely at random will illustrate this. It
is one that strikes our eye as we write, and occurs in the
form of a footnote on page 2-50, which begins thus, " In
England even now occasionally in rural districts a labourer
is condemned to imprisonment for desecrating the Sabbath,
by working in his front garden." If Herr JIarx does not
know this to be absolutely false, his translators and editor
do, and the mere retention of such an allegation in its pages
shows the animus with which the work is written. It is
quite true that, on rare occasions, that pest the '• common
informer, " has summoned a tradesman under the very dis-
creditable, but practically obsolete. Act 29 Car. II., c. 7,
for doing '■ work of his ordinary calling upon the Lord's
Day," and has obtained a conviction ; but this is a very
difi"erent thing to that alleged by the author of the work
before us. A labourer working in his own front garden is
not " following his ordinary calling," and the statute does
not apply to him in any way. The whole book is one
sustained tii^ade against the middle-class capitalist. The
mere sight of the word " bourgeois," or the idea of the
social condition it implies, appears to exercise an influence
on Herr Marx compared with which that of a red rag on a

bull may be regarded as sedative and tranquillising. The
perusal of a work like this to any one who has studied
such masterly and scholarly expositions of economic science
as those of Mr. Dunning McLeod, is like reading an essay
b}' a boy in the Fourth Standard at a Board School, by
anyone familiar with the undying work of Addison and
Steele.

Manual of the Sextant. By Charles \V. Thompson',
F.R.G.S. (London: John Bumpus. 1887.)— Mr. Thompson's
excellent manual of the sextant may be confidently recom-
mended to all travellers and explorers whose outfit of instru-
ments is confined to the one of which it treats, together
with an artificial horizon and a chronometer. The optical
principles on which its action depends are clearly explained,
and this explanation is followed by a detailed description of
the construction and use of the sextant as at present framed
by our leading makers. Then the beginner is instructed
how to use the instrument in observing altitudes and angular
distances, and the methods of employing it to determine
latitude, time, longitude, and the variation of the compass,
and to set O'.it a meridian line, are taught in a manner so
simple, that no moderately attentive reader can possibly
fail to thoroughly grasp the modes of obtaining the results
sought. Wisely eschewing formuhe. our author works out
numerical examples of the various processes at full length ;
and, at the end of his book, furnishes all the tables necessary
for the reduction of the observations made. When !Mr.
Thompson's volume runs into its inevitable second edition,
we should recommend him to obtain and describe one of the
remarkably ingenious prismatic sextants made by Pistor and
^lartins, the opticians in Bsrlin. These instruments measure
angles up to 180^. And we may add in conclusion, the
expression of our surprise that in a bDok in other respects
so complete, no mention whatever is made of the method of
determining the excentricity of the sextant — a matter of
vital importance, if it is to be employed for refined work.

The Brassfoiiiuler's Manual. By Walter Grah.am.
Seventh Edition. (London : Crosby Lockwood, vt Son,
1887.) — When a book on a pureh' technical subject has run
into its seventh edition, it may fairly be assumed to have
criticised itself, and to have established its own claim to
excellence. Assuredly in the present case the success
achieved has been well deserved, for a more complete little
manual than Mr. Graham's we have rarely come across.
Invaluable to the commercial brassfounder, it will be found
replete with information of use to the amateur who tries his
hand at the construction or repair of optical and other
scientific instruments. The workman who buys this little
volume may further derive very great benefit, outside and
beyond that of a merely technical character, by the careful
perusal of pages 20 and 21.

The Eskimo Tribes. By Dr. Henry Eixk. (Williams
& Norgate.) — The principal object of the present work, the
eleventh of a series on Danish investigations in Greenland,
published at the cost of the State, and which its learned
author has made more accessible by an English version, is to
furnish an idea of the elements of the little-known Eskimo
language. But for us the main interest lies in the earlier
chapters, which discuss the mode of life, dwellings, religious
and social arrangements of the Eskimo tribes, and especially
in the first chapter, in which Dr. Eink, while expres.sing no
decided opinion, collates the evidence which tends to confirm
the theory that they migrated from the interior of Alaska,
dispersing northwards until their final settlement in Labrador
and Greenland. The subject is of importance as a con-
tribution to the movements of races in prehistoric times,
and to the general question of man's origin in, and
migi-ation from, northerly hemispheres. As our readers

118

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1888.

may remember, Professor Boyd Dawkins inclines to the
theory that the Eskimo are the descendants of the men of
the reindeer period, who retreated in a north-westerly
direction, a theory based upon certain physical similarities
and upon like customs. But this short notice is not the
place for its discussion, and, moreover, we hope to return to
the subject at a future time. Students of folk-lore and
traditions are familiar with Dr. Rink's volume of Eskimo
tales, and he has placed them further in hLs debt by the
publication of the present treatise.

Tenants of an Old Farm : Leaves from the Note-booh of a
XaturaHst. By Henry McCook, D.D. With an Intro-
duction by Sir John Lubbock. (Hodder & Stoughton.)—
No compliment is paid to science by dressing up its facts in
the guise of fiction, and the wonders of insects, especially
ant-life, which are the subjects of this book, stand least of
all in need of the story-teller's artifice to enhance interest
in truths which are " stranger than fiction." As Dr.
McCook has, however, with some hesitation as he tells us,
chosen to season natural history with romantic admixture,
we must be thankful that the work has fallen into hands as
competent as his. The book is written in an attractive and
animated style, and is amply illustrated with accurate, and
often fantastic, woodcuts.

'I

(Pur WBWt Column*

By "Five of Clubs."

A SAMPLE OF LAST CENTUUY'S WHIST.

-I' l.^S'-'i3' j ^^ Australasian publishes an interesting ilhistra-
"°* " "^ tion of the whist of a century ago. It remarks
tliat " in 1871 Jlr. Hugh Lennon ]ii-escnte(l to the
Jlelbourne Public Library a poem in heroic metre i
which was published anonymously in London in
1791. Tliis bears the title of ■■ Whist, a Poem in
Twelve Cantos." The author " thought iiroper
to assume the character of a vain, petulant
stripling, whose opinion of his own wit and
abilities is so overweening that he thinks they entitle him to fall
foul of everything that comes in his way." In his poem he not only
embodies the accepted canons of the long whist of a century ago,
but also discusses the requisites of a good player. Of these he
signifies three in particular :— (1) Jlcmory, (2) judgment, C3) temper. ,
To the tenth canlo he prefixes the following argument : — "Temper,
the third requisite at whist. Three causes of loss of temper.
(1) Bad Inck, (2) cross play, (.3) a bad partner. Cards a terrible
trial for the temper. Story of Smilinda and her lover Pusillo."
This story is in brief that "Pusillo" was very much in love with
" Smilinda." Being a very cautious " bird," however, he thought it
best to make " one nice experimeat" before deraanriing the lady's
hand, whereby

He might the certain knowledge gain,
If she her temper could at cards retain.

The opportunity presents ifself when Pusillo and Smilinda are
partners at whist against " cousin Booby's son, a country squire,"
and " Aunt Rebecca." Pusillo begins by making some deliberate
mistakes which are of no great consequence. Smilinda is fuming
inwatdly, but her eyes continue " to retain their placid charm." At
length, in a close struggle for an all-important odd trick, Pusillo
commits a gross blunder, and throws away the game. Thereupon
The gentle creature could endure no more,
She started up, she stamped, she raged, she swore.
Proclaimed her wrongs, and threw the cards away,
Nor longer in his presence deigned to stay.

And thus that flame, wliich had for years endured.
In one short minute was entirely cured.

In the text the author describes the play of the hand in a general
way ; in an appendix he gives in detail the cards which fall to the
several successive tricks. The result is the earliest example of an
" illustrative whist hand " with which we are acquainted. More-
over, the hand is fairly well played throughout, except just at the
point where Pusillo deliberately throws away the chance of wimiing
the odd trick."

„/D. (trumj)s).— S, 5.
-"I.C.— Q, 7, 5.

D. («y«).— K, C, 4.
C— A. Kn. 10, 3.
U.— K, :>, 8, li.
S.— S, 4.

THE HANDS.

H.— A, Q, 7.

S.— A, Kn, 10, 9, G.

. fD. (trumps). — A,
^ LC— K, 9, 8, 2.
Score (apparently) :

D.(tps).
C— 6. 4.
H.— Kn, 10,
S.— K, 5, 2.

Q, Kn,
4,2

, 3.

2. H.-5

S.— Q, 7, 3. /
Booby and Rebecca, nine ; Pusillo and
Smilinda, seven
Card underlined wins trick

B Z

Rebecca Smilinda

4. 4. 4. 4.

4. 4- ♦

— 2—

4. 4.

4. •^4.

4- 4-

4-*4-

4.*4.

0 0
0%

O 0
O 0

— 6—

%*

♦ >
*

* *!

10

11

0 0
0 0

0 0
0 0

***

1

***

card underneath lead.? next.

NOTES ON THE PLAY.

Trick 1. — Booby leads cor-
rectly from his numerically
strong suit.

Trick 2. — But in preference
to returning the club Rebecca
ought to have led either her
spade ace or her diamond eight.
Also, if the club was to be re-
turned at all, the seven ought
to liave led, not the five.

Trick 3. — Smilinda properly
discards the spade two.
Trick 5. — Smilinda —
" Nov; with careful eye her
hand surveys.
And from the knave a heart

unwilling plays ;
A vile, unlucky lead in every

view—
(.\nd yet what better could

the virgin do .'
Her king of spades but once

defended lay.
And could not to the ace he

left a prey ;
Her trumps, the last resort,

were now too few.
Since one from four her former

triumph drew).
A vile, unlucky lead ; for full

command
Lay couched in ambush in

Rebecca's hand."
Trick 6—
" And now Rebecca's queen a
trick to gain
Had sanguine hopes ; nor did

she hope in vain.
The lead should ne'er be

changed without a cause,
So from her hand another

heart she draws."
Trick 7 — Of course Smilinda
ought to have played the heart
ten.

Trick 10—
" But now the nymph no longer
would delay,
Though rather weak, her suit

of trumps to play."
Trick 11.— Here, again, Smi-
linda plays the higher, instead of
the lower, of two sequence cards.
Trick 12. — Pusillo makes a
gross blunder —

" (For) had he so inclined, his
chance was sure,
This trick to conquer, and the
game secure ;

— 7—

And Booby and Rebecca win the
odd trick against two by honours.

With wilful error slips the trump to play.
And throws at one rash stroke their all away."

But thoughts of different hue

his mind engross ;
His am'rous heart contemns

the rubber's loss ;

March 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

119

By " Mephisto."

January 23, 1888 :-

SI HE following game will be found interesting, as it

records a somewhat novel defence to the Bishop's
Gambit. It has always been our belief that the
play in this interesting opening has been far
from exhausted, either for the attack or the
defence.

One of fourteen games played simultaneously
by Captain Mackenzie against Mr. J. D.
Seguin — a strong player — at New Orleans,

White.
Mackenzie.

1. P to K4

2. P to KB4

3. B to Bl

4. B X P

5. K to Esq
B to B4 (S)
KKt to B3 (c)
Pto Q4
Kt to B3
P to KR4 (rf)

11. Q to K2(f)

12. B to Kt3

6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

Bishop's Gambit.

White.
Mackeuzie.
13. P to Q5
14.
1.5.
IC.
17.
18.
l!l.
20.
21.

Black.

SeeulQ.
P to K4
PxP
P toQ4
QtoK.5(ch)
PtoQB3(«)
B to KKt.")
Q to IM
P to KKt4
Kt to Q2
Castles
Kt to Kt3
BtoKt2(/)

P,xB
PxQP
P to B4
Q to Q3
B to Kt2 ((■)
K to B2
Q to Q4
RxKt

22. Q X P(B3) (i)

23. Kt to K5

24. Q X KtP

Bl.\ck.

Sepniu.
B X QKt
PxQP
Kt to B3
QR to Ksq (.7)
Kt to K.5 ! (h)
Kt to KtG (oh)
R to K6 !
Kt X R (ch)
Pto B3(y)
KR to K sq
Kt to Q2 : (/)
Kt X Kt

And Black won.

(a) The object of this move is to facilitate rapid castling on the
Queen's side. We have seen many fine games played in this opening
where this has been done. White will subsequently be compelled
to play P to Q4 to develop his game, and prevent the Black KB
harassing the White K by playing to B4. Under these conditions,
Black by castling QR besides bringing his K into safety for a time,
brings his Rook to Qsq, thereby establishing a kind of masked
battery on the Queen, which the latter is usually compelled to avoid
by moving on the King's file. Black will then direct his play on
the Queen's Pawn, and, under certain circumstances — for instance,
to be able to play R to QS (eh), and for other combinative purposes —
Black may sacrifice a piece effectively. These are some features of
the game if Black castles QR, but it he fails to do so, then P to B3
becomes a loss of time, as Black will probably have to play P to KKt4
to defend his KBP, which would give White two squares, namely
Q6 and KBG, where he threatens to place his Queen's Knight, which
often succeeds when the defence is indifferently conducted, result-
ing sometimes in the loss of the Black Queen ; this is brought about
by a series of moves whereof the following are the essential ones,
namely QKt to B3, P to Q4, P to Ko, Kt to K4, &c. Then, again,
we have often observed that tlie Black P on B3 makes an ultimate
advance of the White Q's P — if properly supported by the Kt on
QB3 — all the more effective, for if then Black takes. White, amongst
other things which he might do, may retake with his Knight, which
then would occupy a strong and menacing position on Q.5 ; in the
alternative of Black not taking the P on Q5, it leaves White the
option of weakening Black's Q's si<le by playing P x P, or play-
ing P to Q6, lice., if worth while. These are the main outlines of
this attack, and it may be said that he who develops most rapidly
will obtain an advantage ; but whether the defence adopted in the
text is good, experience alone must decide.

(ft) We should prefer B to Kt3.

(c) Here it may be observed that Q to Ksq might come in useful,
for if Black changes Queens, then — the fact of the White B on B4
threatening the Black KBP preventing Black for the moment from
castling QR; the position of Black's Pawns on the King's side
rendering an attack on them profitable ; the superior position of
White's Pawns on the Queen's side ; the fact of the Black P on B3 pre-
venting him from playing his QKt to B3 — all these, in themselves
very small items, would, combined, render White's game more
desirable. If Black does not change Queens, then the move of the
Queen will come into eft'ect later on, after Bl^ck has castled QR, by
avoiding the " masked battery."

((i) P to Q.5 would not do now, because Black would reply with
Kt to K4 ; but it will be seen (in illustration of our note a) that
under circumstances (for instance when the White KKt is not
doubly pinned, or the White B had retired to Kt3) this may be a
strong move. In illustration of another point touched upon in our
note a, 10. P to Ko, with the intention of playing Kt to K4. is now
also inadmissible, because then Black castles, threatening Kt x KP ;
and if White, in order to forestall this move, continues with
11. Q to K2 (to avoid the masked battery, the necessity of doing
which we mentioned in note c), then Black, by playing Kt to Kt3,

attacking the B (which, according to note h, ought to liave been
played to Kt3), will win the QP.

((') The Times Democrat, New Orleans, here points out that if
White plays 11. K to Ktsq instead, then Black has at his disposal
the ingenious continuation B to Kt2, for if then 12. PxP, B x Kt I
and Black would win the QP with a good game.

(/) If Black plays RxP, White would reply 13. Q to B2, com-
pelling the Rook to move, after which 15. Kt x P would gain some
advantage.

(y) Why not the King's Rook ?

(A) Black has developed his pieces rapidly and with precision.
The advance of the QP has, under the circumstances, turned out dan-
gerous for White. Black has now a winning game.
Black.

White.

(t) It would be but a very poor expedient to try and avoid the
loss of the exchaugc ; for instance, by 18. K to Ktsq, Kt to KtG ;
19. R to R2, B X Kt ; 20. P X B (best, for if 20. Q x B, Black mates
in two moves) ; 21. R to KS(ch) and wins.

(j) Under the circumstances this move does no harm.

(A) We should have preferred to utilise the time given bj- Black's
last move to play 22. Q to B4(ch), K to Ktsq ; 23. Kt to Q4.

(Z) A winning move. White cannot take the Kt on account of
mate threatened b.v R to B7(ch), &c.

Position after Black's 20th move in a game, being one of sixteen
games played simultaneously by Captain Mackenzie at New Orleans
on January 25 : —

J. G. Blanchard.
Black.

m m m m

Bl ^ m

Whttk.
Mackenzie.
The game continued —

21. QR to KKtsq R to E2

22. BxPI

Fine play, .ind apparently quite sound.

22. P :■ B

If R X B, White would have the ingenious reply of 23. Q x R, as
the P could not retake, for that would be mate in two moves. But
now White misses a chance of .speedily determining the game.
Instead of 23. Q x P (ch) he ought to have played 23. R to KtS (ch),
K to B2 then 24. Q » P would win a Rook, as Black has no better
reply to this threatening move than R x R.

23. Q X P (ch.) 1 K to Ksq

24. K to KtS (ch) Kt to Esq

25. R X Kt (ch)

T20

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[Mabch 1, 1888.

All tliis is highly interesting play; if now QxR White plays

'^'^^ 25. KtoQ2

26. QxR
This move is now forced —

2fi. Q X Q

27. R X R K to K2

Thus Black misses a chance by not playing the obvious move of
B X r. If, then, 28. R (Ktsq) to KtS, Black plays P to Bl, and there
is no danger. Black subsequently missed some further chances of
playing for a draw, and the game concluded in the following
curious way : —

"Wbitb. Black. 1 Whitr. Buck.

23. KttoK2 PtoB4? 41. RtoK4(ch) K to QS

i9 Kt to B4 ! P to Q4 42. R to Ktsq(ch) K to Q7

:-.0 Ktxr(c'i) KtoQS 43. R(Q4)toKKt4 r to r..-i

:!1. Kt X KB? Q to R6 44. Kt to K4 (ch) K to QS

:i2 P to K5 (ch) K to B3 4.5. R to Q.^q (ch) K to B7

3:! P to Q5 (ch) K to Kt4 4C. R to Q2 (ch) K to BS

34 RtoKtsq(ch) K to B5 ? 47. P to KR3 1 Q x P?

35 R to KtS Q X BP (ch) 4.'*. R to K2 P to Bfi .'
■M. R to Kt2 Q X BP in. R (Kt4) to Kt2! K to Q.S
37. RtoKKt4(ch) KtoQR 50. KttoB2(ch)! B x Kt
38 RtoQKt3(ch) K to B7 | 51. RxQ P to B7
3<). R to B4 (ch) K to QS 52. R x B Resigns
40. R to KKt3 K to K7

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR MARCH.

By F.R.A.S.

'OTS appear at very infrequent interv.ils on the
sun's disc, but watch should always be kept for
them whenever an opportunity offers. At 4
o'clock in the early morning of March 20 the
sun is said in the almanacs to " enter Aries."
Reference to plate xvi. of " The Seasons Pictured "
will show that he is at this instant in the Con-
stellation Pisces. Spring begins, and this is the
theoretical date of the Equinox, which actually
happens in London a day or two sooner. The Zodiacal light is now
\isible on every clear evening over that part of the horizon beneath
which the sun has set. The night sky is depicted in map iii. of
'The Stars in their Seasons." Minima of Algol ("The Stars in
their Seasons," map .xii.) occur 1 minute after midnight on the 3rd ;
at 8h. 50m. P.M. on the (Ith ; at Ih. 44m. A.M. on the 24th ; at
lOh. 33m. P.M. on the 26th ; and .at 7h. 21m. P.M. on the 2!lth ; and
at other hours inconvenient to the observer. After the first two or
three days Mercury becomes a morning star, but is not in a good
posiiion.' He attains his greatest elongation west of the sun
(27° 47') at 1 o'clock in the morning of the 3lst, but at this date
he rises but a very little before the sun. Venus is a morning star
too, and is but poorly placed for observation and wonderiully shorn
of her glory. Mars may be seen by midnight in A'irgo ("Tlie Stars
in their Seasons," map v.) ; a very moderate telescope will now
show detail on his surface. Jupiter will scarcely be fairly visible
vintil next month. He is situated about twelve diameters of the
tun or moon to the NVV. of Antares ("The Stars in their Seasons,"
map vii.). Saturn may be seen all night long, and is, as ever,
an all repaying object in the telescope. He lies to the west of
lhePra::sepe in Cancer (-The Stars in their Seasons," map iii.).
Uranus may be very fairly well seen before midnight now, and will
be found not far from e Virginis (" The Stars in their Seasons,''
map v.), somewhat to the south and west of that star. With a
sufficiently high power his planetary disc at once distinguishes him
from the surroundins stars Neptune is rather less than 6° south of
the Pleiades ("The Stars in their Seasons," m.api.), but he is getting
rapidly into the sun's rays now. The moon enters her last quarter at
3h. 2G-lra. A.M. on the 5th, and is new at 4h. 21m. in the afternoon
of the 12th. She cntprs her first quarter at 8h. 43-4m. P.M. on the
20th, and is full at 10b. 7 4m. on the night of the 27th. Six occul-
tations of stirs by the moon will occur at fairly convenient hours
during the present month. Before she rises on the 3rd she will
have occulted 49 Libnt, a star of the 5 Jih magnitude with her bright
limb. Later on it may be seen to reappear at her dark limb half-
an-hour after midnight, at an angle of 274° from her vertex. On
the 18th B, A. C. 1351 of the 6.UI1 magnitude will disappear at the dark
limb at Ch. 42m. P.M. at a vertical angle of 162°: reappearing at the
bright limb at 7h. 49m. P.M. at an angle of 287° from the moon's
vertex. On the 20th x' Orionis, a (ith magnitude star, will dis-
appear at the dark limb at 5h. 11m. P.M. at an angle of 70° from
the vertex of the moon. Its reappearance at the bright limb

happens at 6h. 32m. P.M. at a vertical angle of 297°. On the 20th
68 Orionis, a Gtli magnitude star, disappears at the moon's dark
limb at lOh. 21m. P.M. at an angle of 136° from her vertex: to
reappear at her bright limb at 1 Ih. 25m. P.M. at a vertical angle of
302°. On the 22nd B.A.C. 2683, of the 6th magnitude, disappears
at the dark limb 23m. after midnight at a vertical angle of 154°.
It will reappear at Ih. 13m. the nest morning at the bright limb of
the moon at an angle of 264° from her vertex. Lastly, on the 28th,
yet another 6th magnitude star, 80 Virginis, will disappear at
7h. 49m. P.M. at the moon's bright limb, at an angle from her
vertex of 10°. Its reappearance at the dark limb will happen at 8h.
43m. P.M. at a vertical angle of 230°. We exclude the occultation of
7) Libra^ on the 3lst, as disappearance does not happen until
between Ih. and 2h. A.M., which hour extends beyond those within
which we limit the prediction of these phenomena in this column.
When these notes begin the moon is in Virgo, which constellation she
quits for Libra at 9h. 30m. A.M. on the 2nd (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxxii.). Having traversed Libra, she arrives at !;h. A.M. on the
4th at the western edge of the narrow northern spike of Scorpio, across
which she has passed by 11 o'clock the same morning and entered
Ophiuchus. She remains in Ophiuchus until Ih. 30m. A.M. on the
6th. when she enters Sagittarius. Her journey through the last-
named constellation finishes at lOh. A.M. on the 8th, when she quits
it for Capricornus ('• The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi ), through
which she is travelling until lOh. 30ra. a.m. on the 10th. Then .she
crosses into Aquarius, her passage over that constellation occupying
until noon on the 12th, at which hour she leaves Aquarius for Pisces
("The Seasons Pictured,'' pla'e xxii.). In the course of ber
journey through Pisces, she arrives at 9h. a.m. on the 13th on the
confines of Cetus, through which she travels until 5h. P.M. on the
14th, when she comes out again into Pisces, only, however, to re-
enter Cetus at 5h. P.M. on the 15th. When finally she quits Cetus,
30m. after noon on the 16th, it is to emerge in Aries ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxiii.). Just 24 hours later, i.e. at Oh. 30m. P.M.
on the 17th, she leaves Aries for Taurus. In the course of her
journey through Taurus, she arrives at noon on the 20th on the
western edge of the northernmost prolongation of Orion. By
midnight she has crossed this and emergeil in Gemini. At 9h. P.M.
on the 22nd, she leaves Gemini for Cancer (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiv.), as she does Cancer in turn for Leo at 9h. 30m. A.M.
on the 24th. Her pa.ssage through Leo finishes at 9h. P.M. on the
26th, at which hour she quits it for Virgo ("The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxv). She is travelling through Virgo until 7h. P.M. on the
29th, when she once more leaves that constellation for Libra (" The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.). Journeying over Libra, as at
the beginning of the month, she anrives at the northern spike of
Scorpio at 9h. 30m. A.M. on the 30th, ber passage through which is
complete by 6h 30m. p.m., when she comes out in Ophiuchus. She
is still in Ophiuchus at midnight on the 31st.

Steasge Form of Hydrophobia. — A few weeks ago Frank
Tribbey, jun., a married son of Frank Tribbey, sen., proprietor of
the Occidental Hotel, New Albany, Ind., was taken with a
mysterious malady that battled the skill of the physicians. He had
every symptom of hydrophobia, and was so violent that the
physicians were compelled to strap him down in bed. The physicians
finally pronounced the case spinal meningitis. Tribbey after several
days recovered, and was about the street until last evening. During
last night he was again seized with a recurrence of the same
symptoms. He barked like a dog, and became so violent that his
friends were compelled to strap him down. Tribbey is said to be in
a critical condition. Eight years ago he was bitten by a dog. It
may be that some virus was left in the system from the bite. —
Cincinnati Tnguirer.

Contents of No. 28.

PAGE

The Star of Bethlelicm 7:!

75
77

Shakespeare anil History
Arctic Origin <:if Aryan Races

Material of the Universe vs

The One-Scale Atlas 80

Royal Victoria Hall 82

Notes on Americanisms 82

Collisions at Sea. By S. A. Andrews ii
Darwin's Life and Letters. By

EdnardClodd 84

PAQK

The Origin of Man 87

Meteoric Cosmogocy 89

Go?sip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 00

Reviews 91

The Face of the Sky for February

1888. By F.R.A.S 94

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

phisto " 94

Our Whist Column, By "Five of

Olnbs" 96

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge " as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered aa a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand. &c 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada. United States,
and Egypt, the Snl-scription is 7b. 6d., aa herotofore.

April 2, 1888.]

KNOWLEDGE

121

^ AN

ILLUSTRATED ^MAGAZINE
iSC}ENC£,UTEMTURE,& ARfc

LONDON: APltlL 2, 1888.

THE KINSHIP OF MEN AND APES, ETC.

Bv Professor E. 8. Morse.*

NLY the briefest reference can here be made
to a few of the numerous contributions
on the subject of man's relation to the
animals lelow him. The rapidly-accumu-
lating proofs of the dose relation existing
between mnn and the quadrumaiia, make
interesting every fact, however trivial, in
reg.ard to the structure and habits of the higher apes.

Dr. Arthur E. Brownf has made some interesting experi-
ments with the monkeys at the Zoological Gardens in
Philadelphia. He found that tiie monkeys showed great
fear, as well as curiosit)", when a snake was placed in their
cage, though they were not affected by other animals, such
as an alligator and turtle. On the other hand, mammals
belonging to other oiders showed no fear or curiosity at a
snake. These experiments, repeated in various ways, lead
liim only to one logical conclusion, " that the fear of the
serpent became instinctive in some far-distant progenitor of
man, by reason of his long exposure to danger and de.ath in
a horrible form, from the bite, and that it has been handed
down through the diverging lines of descent which find
their expression to-day in Homo and Pithecus" [/.e. Man
and Ape].

The same author.^ in an exceedingly interesting descrip-
tion of the higher apes, says: "Mr. A. li. Wallace once
called attention to the similarity in colour existing between
the orang and chimpauzje and the human natives of their
respective countries. It would, indeed, seem as if but half
the truth liad been told, and that the comparison might be
carried also into the region of mind : the quick, vivacious
chimpanz3e partaking of the mercurial disposition of negro
races, v.'hile the apathetic, slow orang would pass for a
disciple of the sullen fatalism of the Malay." [The resem-
blance between the gorilla and the negro is even more
striking in some respects than that between the latter and
the chimpanzee. I dwelt on this in an article on "The
Gorilla and other Apes," in my " Pleasant Ways in Science,"
pp. 302, 303.— E. P.]

Dr. Brown§ has also given a description of the grief
manifested by a chimj)anzee on the death of its mate. His
grief was shown by tearing his hair or snatching at the
short hair on his head. The yell of rage was followed by a
cry the keeper had never heard before, a .sound which might
be repi-esented by liali-alt-ah-alt-ali uttered somewhat under
the breath, and with a plaintive sound like a moan.

* From an article on American Zoologists and Evolution, in the
"Popular Science Monthly." (New York.)
t "American Naturalist," vol. xii., p. 225.
X Ibid., vol. xvii., p. ll'.t.
§ Ibid., vol. xiii.p. 173.

Mr. W. F. Hornaday • read at the Saratoga meeting of
this Association an exceedingly interesting paper on the
" Habits of the Orang," as observed by him in his native
forests. He says, " Each individual of the Borneo orangs
differs from his fellows, and has as many facial peculiarities
belonging to himself alone, as can be found in the indi-
viduals of any unmixed race of human beings." After
recounting the many traits of the orang, heretofore reg.ai-ded
as peculiar to man, he says: "Let any one, who is pi'C-
judiced against Darwinian views, go tothefoie.sts of Borneo.
Let him there watch from day to day this strangely human
form in all its various pliases of existence. Let; him sec it
climb, walk, build its nest, eat and drink and fight like
human ' roughs.' Let him see the female suckle her young
and carry it astride her hip precisely as do the coolie
women of Hindoostan. Let him witness their human-like
emotions of affection, satisfaction, pain, and childish rage —
let him see all this, and then ho may feel how much more
potent has been the lesson than all he has rerd in pages of
abstract ratiocination.

Profeisor W. S. Barnard several years ago, in a study
of the myology [or muscle-work] of man and apes, showed
tjurt the scansorius muscle which Trail studied in the
higher apes and which he supposed had no homologue in
man, was really homologous with the fjluUns minimus in
man. Dr. Henry C. Chapman.t in a study of the struc-
ture of the orangoutang, has confirmed the truth of
Barnard's discovery. Dr. Chapman is led to infer that the
ancestral form of man was intermediate in character, as
compared with living anthropoids or lower monkeys, agree-
ing with them in some respects and differing from them in
others. [This view is discussed in an article on " Our Ape
Cousins," in a recent volume of Knowledge. — R. P.]

The osteological aflinities which man has with the
Lemuridce, as insisted upon by Mivart, are also recognised by
( 'ope.i: In a general paper on the " Origin of Man and
other Vertebrates," he says : "' An especial ])oint of in-
terest in the phylogeny [or tribe origin — but oh ! these
wordmongers !] of man has been brought to light in our
North American beds. There are some things in the struc-
ture of man and his nearest relatives, the chinrpanzee,
orang, kc, that leads us to suspect that they had rather
come from some extinct type of lemurs."

It would .seem as if we must look farther back than the
higher apes for the converging lines of a man's relations
with them. The earliest remains of man or the apes found
fossil, presenting as they do marked types with little
tendency to approach one another, would in themselves
suggest an earlier origin for both stocks. [And that earlier
origin must share descent with contemporary races from an
earlier origin still ; and that, tte.— II. P.]

In a paper by Profes.sor Cope § on " Lem urine Reversion
in Human Dentition," he says, in concluding his article :
" It may be stated that the tritubercular superior molars of
man constitute a reversion to the dentition of the Lemuridtv
of the Eocene period of the family AnapfoniorpMclce, and
second, that this rever.-ion is principally seen among
Esquimaux and the Slavic, French, and American branches
of the European race."

In another paper by the same author !| on the " Develop-
mental Significance of Human Physiognomy," he compares
the proportions of the body and the facial peculiarities of man
with the higher apes and human infants, and shows that

* "American Naturalist," vol. xiii., p. 712.

t "Proceedings of the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences,"
1880, p. 163.
t "Popular Science Monthly," vol. xxvii., p, GOO.
§ " American Naturalist," vol. xx., p. 9tl.
]| Ibid., vol. xvii., p. 618.

122

* KNOWLEDGE ♦

[April 2, 1888.

the Indo-European, on tlie whole, stands higher than the
other races iu the acceleration of those parts by which the
body is maintained in an erect position, and in the want of
prominence of the jaws and cheek-bones, which are asso-
ciated with a greater predominance of the ceiebral part of
the skull and consequently greater intellectual power.

Dr. Harrison Allen,* in a study of the shape of the hind-
limb as modified by the weight of the trunk, dwells on the
manner of articulation in the gorilla of the fibula with both
calcaneum and the astragalus, as well as the fact that the
astragalus in that genus possessed a broad, deflected fibula
facet, and says : " This pecular projection is rudimental in
the astragalus of civilised man, but was found highly de-
veloped in an astragalus from an Indian grave found at
Cooper's Point, New Jersey."

In my Buffalo address, I alluded to a paper by Professor
N. S. Shaler on the intense selective action which must
have taken place in the shape and character of the pelvis in
man on his assumption of the erect posture — the caudal
vertebra? turning inward, the lower portion of the pelvis
drawing together to hold the viscera, which had before
rested on the elastic abdominal walls, the attending difS-
culty of parturition, &e. Dr. S. V. Clevenger t has since
called attention to other inconveniences resulting from man's
escajie from his quadrumanous ancestors. In a paper en-
titled "Disadvantages of the Upright Position," he dwells
particularly on the valves in the veins to assist the return of
blood to tlie heart, which, considered from the usual teleo-
logical point of view .seems right enough ; but why, he asks,
should man have valves in the intercostal veins ? He shows
that in a recumbent position these valves are an actual detri-
ment to the flow of blood : " An apparent anomaly exists iu
the absence of valves fi-om parts where they are most
needed, such as the vena? cava?, spinal, iliac, hemorrhoidal,
and portal. The azj'gos veins have important valves.
Place man upon 'all-fours,' and the law governing the
presence and absence of valves is at once apparent, applicable,
so far as I have been able to ascertain, to all quadrupedal
and quadrumanous animals. Dorsad veins are valved ;
cephalad, ventrad, and caudad veins have no valves." By
means of two simple diagrams he shows clearly the distri-
bution of valved and unvalved veins .as they exist in
mammals, and why in man the same arrangement becomes
detrimental. He dwells on the number of lives that are
sacrificed every year by the absence of valves in the hemor-
rhoidal veins. He also mentions other disadvantages in the
upright attitude, as seen in the position of the femoral
artery, even with man's ability to protect it. Its exposed
condition is a dangerous element. Inguinal hernia, of rare
occurrence in mammals, occurs very often in man, at least
20 per cent, being affected. Strangulated hernia also causes
many deaths. Prolapsus uteri and other troubles and
diseases are referred to by Dr. Clevenger as due to the
upright position. In other words, the penalties of original
sin are in fact the penalties resulting from man's assumption
of the erect posture. [For an account of Dr. Clevenger's
views, see article on " Upright Man " in my " Universe of
Suns."— Pv. P.]

In another paper by the same author,! on the " Origin
and Descent of the Human Brain," he gives an interesting
sketch of the phylogenesis of the spinal cord to its ultimate
culmination in the development of the brain of man. He
says that the most general interest centx-es in the large mass
of cells and nerve-fibres called the cerebrum. " In the
ornithorhynchus it is smooth and simple in form, but the

* " Proceedings of the Pbifadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences,"
1S8.5, p. 383.
t '• American Naturalist," vol. sviii., p. 1,
} "American Naturalist," vol. sv., p. S13.

beaver also has an unconvoluted brjin, which shows at once
the folly of attaching psychological importance to the number
and intricac}' of folds in animal brains. With phrenology,
which finds bibativeness in the mastoid process of the tem-
poral bone, and amativeness in the ocuipital ridge, the con-
volutional controversies must die out, as has the so-called
science of palmistry, which reads one's fate and fortune in
the skin-folds of the hand."

Professor Alexander Grahatu Bell * has presented a
memoir to the National Academy on the " Formation of a
Deaf Variety of the Human Rice," in which he shows by
tables a series of generations of certain families in which
the progenitors being deaf-mutes this peculiarity becomes
perpetuated in many of the descendants. Eecognising fully
the laws of heredity, natural selection, &c., he shows that
the establishment of deaf-mute schools, in which a visual
language is taught which the pupils alone under.stand, tends
to bring them into close association with one another ; and
that naturally, with this seclusion, acquaintance ripens into
friendship and love, and that statistics show that there is
now in process of being built up a deaf variety of man.

Dr. W. K. Brooks,t animated by the cogency of Professor
Bell's reasoning, is led to prepnre an article, entitled " Can
INIan be Modified by Selection?" In this paper he discusses
the startling proposition of Professor Bell, and recognises the
convincing proof which he furnishes to show that the law of
.selection does place within our reach a powerful influence for
the improvement of our race. The striking character of the
tables of facts presented by Professor Bell, and the .significant
suggestions of Dr. Brooks, lead one to consider how f;ir the
influence of selection has had to do with the character of
great communities, as to their intelligence or ignorance.
When we see nations of the same great race-stock, one
showing a high percentage of illiterates, a high death-rate,
degradation and ignorance, while just across the borders
another nation, apparently no better oflf so far as physical
environments are concerned, with percentage of illiterates
and death-rate low, intelligent and cleanly, we are led to
inquire if here a strict scientific scrutiny with careful his-
torical investigation will not reveal the cause of these condi-
tions. Can it be proved beyond question that the illiteracy
and degradation of Italy and Spain, up to within recent
years at least, is the result of centuries of church oppression
and the Inquisition, destroying at once or driving out of the
land all independent thinkers, and at the .same time forcing
her priests to lead celibate lives and inducing others of culti-
vated and gentle miuds to lead cloister lives? Is it also a
fact, as Alphonse de Candolle asserts, that by far the greater
number of distinguished scientists have come from Protestant
pastors ] He gives a significant list of eminent men whoso
fathers were Protestant pastors, saying that, had they been
priests of another religion, leading celibate lives, these men
would not have been born.

It is con.sidered an intrusion into matters which do not
concern science when such inquiries are made, but the
scientist has very deeply at heart the intellectual and moral
welfare of the community. If the cause of degi-adation and
ignorance, of poverty, of contagious disease, or of any of the
miseries which makes a nation wretched, can be pointed out
by scientific methods, then it is the stern duty of Science to
step in, and at least show the reasons, even if the remedy is
not .at once forthcoming. The men who would be reformers
and agitators, and who by their earnestness and devotion
got the attention of multitudes, are unfit for their work if
they show their ignorance, as most of them do, of the
doctrines of natural selection and derivation.

* " Memoirs of the National Academy of Science," vol. ii., fourth
memoir.
f " Popular Science Monthly," vol ssvii , p. 15,

April 2, 188S.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

123

WEIGHING THE EARTH.

^HE great ditEculty in determining the earth's
mass arises from the circumstance that it
surpasses so enormously that of any known
body -with whicli we can compare it. A
mountain may exert an attraction measur-
ably comparable with that of the earth ; but
a mountain is not a known mass, for we are
not able to examine the mountain's whole structure, and
short of such examination the mountain's mass must remain
doubtful. We may descend into mines and recognise a
change in the force of gravity suggestive of the law or laws
according to which the density of the earth's interior varies
as the centre is approached ; but we must always remain in
doubt how far the change may be due to peculiarities in the
structure of the strata through which the mine penetrates.
The only trustworthy determinations of the earth's mass are
those in which the attraction of some known mass of matter,
as a globe of lead or platinum, Ls directly compared with
that of the earth ; and the largest masses of the kind which
have yet been used in this way have been so infinitesimally
small compared with the mass of the earth, that it is only

of being thoroughlj- surveyed by geologists, and must
present such features as suggest probable uniformity of
interior stratification. Suppose now that B and B' are two
stations on a meridian — that is, on the same north-.and-south
line — whose positions have been determined by trigono-
metrical survey. Observations made at B and B with
the zenith sector would indicate the true difference of
latitude between B and B', were the plumb-lines at B and
B' in the true vertical directions A B and A B . But if the
attraction of the mountain's mass draws these plumb-lines
into the positions A b and A' b', then the latitudes of
B and B' as determined by the zenith sector would be
incorrect. Evidently, B being the northern station, and
B P' the direction of the polar axis, the plumb-line A b
makes a smaller angle than A B, the true vertical, with the
direction of the pole, or seems to indicate for B too high a,
latitude; while A'6' makes a larger angle than A'B' with
the polar axis, and seems to indicate for B' too low a
latitude. Both displacements increase tbe apparent differ-
ence of latitude; and comparing the diffeience of lati-
tude determined by trigonometrical survey with the
difference indicated by the plumb-lines at B and B', the
disturbing effect of the attraction of the mountain-mass is

Fig. 1. — The Schehallien Experiment for determining the Earth's Mass.

by apparatus of extreme delicacy that any measurable
alteration of terrestrial attraction has been produced ; so
that all experiments of the sort are affected by a certain
degree of uncertainty, depending on the delicacy of the
methods employed, and what may be called the tenuity of
the results deduced.

It is a serious mistake to describe the measurements of
the earth's mass made by ilaskelyne on Mount Schehallien,
and by Mr. Dunkin in the Hartley coal-mine, in terms
implying that the precision of the processes employed
involved a corresponding degree of accuracy in the results
obtained. Nothing but the most precise and careful obser-
vation and experiment could have led to any observable,
still less to any measurable results. But we must not sup-
pose, because exceedingly delicate and precise observation
can alone lead to any results at all in such experiments, that
therefore results obtained by such observation are themselves
of corresponding precision ; on the contrary, the reverse
must be a.ssumed, unless the results obtained by different
researches of thLs class shall be found to agree so closely as
to indicate more trustworthiness in such methods than had
been anticipated. But this has not happened. On the
contrary, the reverse has thus far proved to be the case.

The Schehallien experiment, and experiments of the
same type, may, with amply adequate precision, be thus
described : —

Let M »', M' m', fig. 1, be the slopes of a mountain such
as Schehallien, suitably situate so that whatever attraction
its mass may be capable of exerting can be estimated with
fair chance of freedom from serious error ; in other words,
the mountain must stand in some degree apart, must admit

determined. Hence, after reductions and computations
which, though seemingly complex, depend on established and
even simple principles, the astronomer is able to compare
the attraction of the earth with the attraction of the
mountain, and if the mass of the mountain can be ascer-
tained, the mass of tbe earth can be deduced.

Bouguer and La Condamine, during experiments on
Chimborazo, recognised the effect of the mountain's attrac-
tion in deflecting the plumb-line (by .about 11"), but no
estimate of the earth's mass was obtained, the conditions
being too complex and uncertain. It was not till 1774
that a definite attempt was made to measure the earth's
mass by this method. In that year Maskelyne made obser-
vations on the northern and southern slopes of Schehallien,
a mountain only 3,000 feet in altitude, but well suited for
the experiment. The sum of the deflections observed
amounted to ll'-G ; and from this result Messrs. Hutton &.
Playfair, after as thorough an examination of the moun-
tain's structure as could be made, deduced for the earth's mass
a value corresponding to a mean density exceeding that of
water 4-713 times. Ob.servations made in 1885 on Arthur's
Seat by Colonel James, Superintendent of the Ordnance
Survey, indicated a mean density of 5-31G.

Another method depends on the diminution of attraction
as we ascend above the earth's surfoce. The rate of oscilla-
tion of a pendulum will be calculably reduced at a height of
two or three miles above the sea-level. If set at such a
Leifht on a mountain summit, the attraction of the moun-
tain's mass will diminish the reduction of the rate of oscilla-
tion. Hence, if we know the ma.ss of the mountain and
measure the effect of its attraction, we can deduce the mass

124

♦ KNO^A?'LEDGE *

[April 2, 1888.

of the earth.* From observations made on Mont Cenis by
this plan, Plana and C'arlini deduced a v.alue of 4-950 for the
earth's mean density.

The converse of this method has also been used. If the
oscillations of a pendulum at the S3a-level be compared with
those of a pendulum at a great depth below that level (as in
a deep mine), we can compare the mass of the whole earth
with that of an outer shell limited by an imaginary spheroidal
surface concentric with the surface of the earth, and passing
through the undergi-ound station. For this shell, supposing
it homogeneous, would exert no attraction at all at the lower
station, and its non-homogeneity can be taken into account.
The pendulum at the lower station is attracted only by the
mass within the imagined spheroidal surface, with such
corrections as may be due to the irregularities of the
structure of the shell exterior to it, and more particularly
to peculiarities in the neighbourhood of the mine where the
experiment is tried. If the earth were of uniform density
the attraction at the lower station would obviously be less
than that at the outer, in the same degree that its distance
from the centre is less ; for masses of the complete sphere
and of the sphere within the lower station are proportioned
as the cubes of their radii, while gravity .at the two stations
would be as these masses directly aud inversely as the

the centre, the attraction at the lower station may be equal
to or greater than that at the tipper. Apart, then, from
considerations depending on the contigitration of the mine
and the structure of the strata through which it has been
dug,* the interpretation of the observed difference of

* The effect o£ the removal of large quantities of material from
below tlie surface is to increase the attraction on the pendulum at.
the bottom of tlie mine. It will suffice, in illustration of this, to
consider the earth regarded as a homogeneous globe, and the space
dug out as of some regular figure, as a cylinder. Tlie student will
readily infer (which is ;iK I wish here to indicate) the nature of the
general considerations which have to be taken into account in deal-
ing with such problems : —

Let B, fig. 2, be a mine of any figure, with, however, a horizontal
base. Take the spherical shell A 8 C, of which the inner surface
coincides with the base of the mine. Then the attraction at the
bottom of the mine is that due to the mass of the sphere within the
shell, plus the attraction of the incomplete shell ; .and i he incom-
plete shell attracts the particle towards the earth's centre with a
force precisely equal to the repulsion due to a mass fillini:;- the space
B. For if the attraction exerted by the incompleie shell be A, and
that exerted by the portion 1! (supposed filled) be B, then we know
that

A + E = 0
or

A = - B.

Teace, instead of considering the incomplete shell A, we need

FiQ. 2. -Illustrating the Mine llethcd of Weigliing the Earth.

Fig. 3.— Illustrating the Determination of Gravity at the Bottom of a Mine.

squares of those radii ; hence, considering both the masses
and the distance, the attractions at the two stations would
be inversely as the distances of these stations from the
earth's centre. But if the earth's density increases towards

* The time of oscillation of a pendulum oE given length, I, is
inversely proportional to Vy_ where ff represents the force of gravity
as measured by the velocity it can generate in a unit of time.
Hence, if //, ;/' represent gravity at tlie sea-level and at height /(
above that level respectively, and f, i' are the respective periods of
oscillation as calculated for stations so situated resi)ectively (the
attraction of the mountain itself being neglected), we should have,
approximately, j

: : r : r-\-U
{r being the earth's radius). For, regarding the earth as a globe
made up of concentric layers, each of uniform density, the earth's
whole mass may be supposed at the centre, and gravity therefore
inversely as the squares of the distances from the centre — that i.s,
(J :. <?'::(?• + 70-' : ■>•-.

But if calculations based on the known configuration and struc-
ture of the mountain indicate that its mass would produce an
attraction /on a body at its summit, and t" be the observed time of
oscillation at the mountain's summit.

Thus, if the times of oscillation t and t'' be accurately oompa'-ed,
while t' is computed, we obtain the ratio of t' to t", or V,,' j^j to
-./^■^ whence the ratio of / to (j' and thence to g is obtained ; and
thus the mass of the earth may be compared directly with that of
the mountain. Of course, though the principle of the method is
thus indicated, the actual computations are by no means so simple.

only consider the repulsion exerted by a mass filling B, every
particle of which is to b ; supposed to repel with a force exactly
equal to that with which it would in reality attr.^ct.

Let us suppose our mine to be cylindrical, tig. .S, representing a
section through the axis and the sbaft S coincident with the pro-
longation of the axis. A pendulum is swinging at Q and another at
P ill Q S produced. The shaft is supposed so narrow that we need
not consider it, and, for convenience, we suppose its length equal to
half the depth of the mine: —

Let r = earth's radius
2 a = mine's depth (Q P)
a = length of shaft (Q S)
h = radius of cylinder (B P)
Then the attraction at Q is equivalent to the attraction of a
sphere of radius r, diminished by the attraction of the cylinder A U,
that is (from the known value of the last-named attraction —

= *--.f - 2 IT p |a - s/ia^ + b' + ■Jd^^n/'] . (»)

(p being the density of the supposed homogens-.us sphere).

Ag.ain, the attractiou at P is e.juivalent to the altr.acti n of a
sphere of radius r — 2a';, increased by the repithioii of the cyliLder
A D, that is-

The excess of the attraction at Q over that at P— that is, the
difference of the expressions (a) and (;8) — is

I

-I- b- — 2a — h

'S

r

= 2k p ' Via- -(•*-- *| -

i TT pa.

(7)

and, according as this expression is positive, zero, or negative, the

April 2, 18SS.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

125

attraction at the top and bottom of the mine is a matter of
sufficient simplicity.

Though it is tolerably obvious that this method of deter-
mining the earth's attraction must be even less trustworthy
than experiments of the Schehallien type, the method com-
mended itself to the mind of Sir George (then Professor)
Airy, and after two failures in the Dolcoath mines, he had
the method tried in the Harton Colliery, near South
Shields, where a depth of 1,260 feet was available. It is
not necessary to describe the contrivances by which two
pendulums were compared, one swinging at the top the
other at the bottom of the mine, the pendulums being inter-
changed after intervals of 10-t hours and 60 hours — that is,
each working 104 hours above and below, and then each
working 60 hours above and below. The work was con-
ducted with great care and skill by Mr. Dunkin, of the
Greenwich Observatory, to whom, however, no portion of
the credit has hitherto been given in treatises on astronomy.

The observations showed that at the foot of the mine
either pendulum gained two seconds and a quarter per day,
bhow-ing that gravity was increased by xaJ^jTy part. This
result cannot be sensibly in eiTor, so carefully were Mr.
Dunkin's operations conducted. But the inferred increase
of density towards the earth's centre — that is, the deduced
mean density of the earth — can by no means be regarded as
ascertained with corresponding accuracy. We do not make
an ordinary foot rule more precise for measuring purposes
by careful and complicated experiments on the changes it
undergoes under the varying influences of temperature,
moisture, and so forth — it remains a foot-rule still, with all
a foot-rule's shortcomings as a measurer. The complicated
calculations and corrections effected by Mr. Dunkin did not
even touch the real defects of the mine method of weighing
the earth ; it remained rough and untrustworthy. A com-
parison of the final i-esult with that obtained bj- experiments
of the Schehallien class — which, though certainly not trust-
worthj', were at least as trustworthj' as the mine experi-
ments— suffices to show how little either method can be
trusted. The earth's mean density, as calculated by Jlr.
Airy from the Harton experiments, was 6-565 times that of
water, and the results of the mountain and mine methods
combined appear as follows : — •

Mean DeDsity
(Water"s=l).
M.askelyne'3 Schehallien experiment (corrected

by Piayfair) 4 713

Carlini's pendulum experiments on Mont Cenis

(corrected by Giolio) 4 950

Colonel H. James, from attraction of Arthur's

Seat 5316

Dnnkin and Airy, from experiments in Harton

Colliery 6.JGJ

Mean

5-386

The mean value is probably, as we shall see, near the
truth ; but as the greatest value differe from the least by
1852, or more than a third of the mean, the results —
except Colonel James's — are discredited by the very circum-
stance that the mean value is nearly right ; and all three

attraction at Q is greater than, equal to, or less than the attraction
at P. Putting (■)■) equal to zero, we get

3 ■jYa'^^b- = 3 J -f 2a
or

36 a= + 9 J= = 9 J= ^ 12 o J ^- 4 a^
that is

.32 a = V2h.
Hence, if i, the radius of the cylindrical mine, is equal to tour-
thirds its total depth, the attraction at P will be equal to that at
Q. If the mine be wider, the attraction will be greater at P than
acQ.

All other cases may be similarly treated, though, of course, the
problem will not in all cases be so simple as the above.

methods are discredited, the correctness of Colonel James's
result being thus shown to be merely accidental. If the
length of a piece of ground had to be measured, and one
workman said that measuring it in a certain way he found
it to be 471 feet long, while another using a different
method made it 49.5 feet long, and a third, using yet another
method, found it to be 657 feet long, their employer would
not regard their work or their methods as satisfactory if he
presently found that a thoroughly trustworthy measurement
showed the piece of gi-ound to be 550 feet long, even though
that is not far from the mean of the results obtained by
three unsatisfactory methods. And if, later, a fourth work-
man, employing one of those methods, deduced as a result
539 feet, trust in that method would not te greatly increased.
It would be felt that either the approach of the result
to the truth was accidental or it was more or less consciously
forced.

Airy expressed the opinion that the result of the Harton
Colliery experiment was comparable on at least equal terms
with those obtained by other methods, though it differs by
20 per cent, from the mean of the results obtained by all
methods, and the results presently to be considered do" not
differ by more than 2 per cent, from their mem value, nor
by 4 per cent, from the general mean. I prefer the opinion
of Sir Edmund Beckett (now Lord Grimthorpe), that the
result of the Harton Colliery experiments " cannot be
accepted," and is " not to be compared in value " with those
obtained by the Cavendish experiment.

The ingenious Michell, to whom science owes the first
satisfectorv' reasoning about the architecture of the sidereal
heavens, devised the method of weighing the earth which is
commonly named after the eminent chemist Cavendish, who
first successfully applied it.

( To he concluded.)

COAL.

By W. Mattieu Williams.

-MINERS' LAMPS AND COLLIERY EXPLOSIONS.

APPILY for themselves, few or none of my
r&aders have any practical acquaintance
with absolute darkness. "With the excep-
tion of a skilfully devised horror — the dark
punishment cell in some of our prisons —
scarcely any place can be found above
ground where such darkness prevails. But
in a coal-pit, without lamp, it exists in perfection. The
lighting of a coal-mine is a serious problem, not because
illuminating gas is dear, but for the opposite reason. Lead,
copper, and other mines in which metals and their ores are
worked, are lighted by the primitive device of wearing a
candle in the front of one's hat while travelling down the
shaft or along the working.*, and sticking it in a miner's
candlestick, a lump of clay, which is superior to ordinary
candlesticks, inasmuch as it may rest on the ground or con-
stitute its own bracket by being dabbed against a wall, or
take any other position required.

Primitive oil-lamps of pattern closely resembling those
found so abundantly in Pompeii, or metal lamps with a hook
at one side for attachment to the hat or hanging to ledges,
are used, and others with a spike below for simdar purpose;
but the candle and lump of clay is the general favourite.
Paraffin lamps have been lately introduced.

Candles and such lamps may be used in some coal-mines,
but these are exceptional, the majority of coal-mines beinw
" fiery." This means that hydrocarbon gas, which has been

126

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[April 2, 1888.

occlufled or imprisoned for ages, starts forth on breaking
down the coal, and may acoumuUxte to a dangerous amount.
So far as I have been able to learn, no coal-mine is free
from " fire-damp ; " in those that are worked with naked
lights, " blowers " of gas may occasionally be heard, and
seen when the men apply their candles to them, producing
great jets of flame by their ignition.

Mr. Galloway has now satisfactorily proved that hydro-
carbon gas is by no means the only source of dangerous
explosions. Coal-dust mixed with air forms an explosive of
terrible potency, and in most of the great colliery explosions
it has been a serious factor, in some cases probably by far
the most serious. A small explosion of gas, which alone
would do no mischief, may operate by blowing up and firing
the dust in its immediate neighbourhood ; and this secondary
explosion may do the like furliier on, and thus the blown-up
dust may act like a train of gunpowder with the most
terrible results. The drier the pit and workings, the greater
is this danger, and as we descend to deeper and deeper
seams, dry workings become more and more common, and
thus the coal-mines of the future will become progressively
more and more dangerous.

We read in pretty books about the miner's glow-worm
lamp, and a pretty picture is thrown upon the magic-lantern
screen of the lecturer, displaying a collier at work with a
bottle full of these pretty creatures hanging by his side to
cheer and guide him in his work. I doubt whether such a
pretty lamp ever existed outside of thei-e pretty books and
pretty pictures. It may have been tried, but, having kept
a few pet glow-worms for a couple of years in a fern case,
and watched their habits, I conclude that they would object
to being bottled in crowds, and would not waste their
ilhuuinating energies when thus imprisoned, especially as
they light up for the purpose of courtship only during a
short courtship season.

The " steel mill " was really used. It was a wheel with
steel periphery, which, when raf>idly rotated with a flint
pressed against it, threw out a shower of sparks. These
gave sufficient light, but they were also capable of firing the
gas. I have illustrated that to a class by thrusting a
brightly-heated iron wire through a bladder containing a
mixture of hydrogen and oxygen gases, which thus treated
explodes instantly. The spai-ks of the steel mill are simply
incandescent particles of steel.

The introduction of the wire-gauze lamp altered all this.
Herious explosions that occurred in Durham in 1812 led to
the formation of a Society for the Prevention of Accidents
in (Joal-miues. It was at a meeting of this society in Sun-
derland in 1813 that Dr. Clanny, of Newcistle, exhibited
his first lamp. He had worked upon the problems for some
time. George Stephenson, then a humble engine-wright at
the Killingworth Colliery, Newcastle, was doing the same,
and practically introduced a wire-gauze lamp in 1815. His
first lamp was ready on October 21, further improved on
November i, and fairly and practically in use November 30
at Killingworth under the name of the " Geoi'die Lamp."
I will not enter upon the controversy respecting the per-
sonal merits of the difterent inventors beyond expressing
my opinion that the merit of Davy was rather that of
demonstrating the rationale of the action of the wire gauz3
in resisting the passage of flame between its meshes than of
the invention of the lamp. There can be no doubt that too
much has been claimed for Davy, Smiles, in his Life of
George Stephenson, concludes that the illustrious chemist
and the humble engine-wright arrived by wholly independent
paths at a knowledge of the facts concerning the non-passage
of flame through tubes and small apertures.

The principle upon which the efficacy of the Geordie or
Davy lamp depends may be easily demonstrated by lowering

a piece of wire gauze upon a common gas flame. As the
gauze descends it will be seen that the flame does not pass
between its meshes, but is effectually extinguished when it
touches the metal. On applying a light to the upper surface
of the gauze another upper flame appears, which is evidently
a continuation of the partially-extinguished flame below.
The gas passes between the meshes, but the flame cannot.
Neither can a flame travel through cold metal tubes of small
bore ; but if either the gauze or the tube be made red-hot,
it no longer stops the flame. A further demonstration is
afforded by making a candle with a small thread wick,
and when the wick is lighted pas.sing over it a metal ring
with an opening equal to the whole width of the flame.
Although presenting no mechanical obstruction, the flame
is completely extinguished by the cold ring.

The reason is very simple. The flame is due to the
energetic combination of the hydrocarbon gas with oxygen,
but this combination does not occur unle.ss the gases be
heated to a certain point. This heat, which is necessary
for the continu.ance of the combustion, is carried away
by the metal, which is a good conductor. The potency
of metal in carrying away the heat of a flame is well
shown by stretching a pocket-handkerchief, or piece of rag,
over the convex side of the bowl of a silver spoon, and
plunging the fabric into a gas-flame. It may be held there
for some time without being even scorched, but if the
experiment be repeated on a wooden spoon a hole is rapidly
burned in it. The flame of a jet that is issuing with some
force — as from a blow-pipe or Bunsen burner — may pass
through the gauze according to velocity of issuing gas and
size of mesh. Also, if the gauze is red-hot, its power of
obstructing the flame is lost.

These facts indicate a limitation to the practical efficiency
of the miner's lamp. When surrounded with gas outside,
the space within the gauze is filled with flame, and this
warns the miner of his danger. But the warning may itself
be fatal if he becomes alarmed, and rushes forward too
rapidly, or sways his lamp cai-ekssly, and thus produces a
through current that shall blow the inner flame outward.
It is rarely that a human being is placed in a position
demanding more of true courage than that of the miner
when the flame of his lamp wick first elongates, then is
surmounted by a blue cap, and finally flashes into a lambent
flame that fills the lamp. He must hasten to the shaft for
his life's sake, for if he is too tardy the gauze will become
red-hot. If he rushes forward, or otherwise moves his
lamp with a speed exceeding 4 or 5 feet per second, he will
probably kill himself and all his comrades. In the midst of
this dilemma he knows that others are in the same position,
and that lack of courage and' coolness of anj- one may be
destructivo to all.

A number of devices have been adopted to diminish this
danger, far too many for me to describe or even name here.
Double gauze, glass protection outside the gauze, as in the
" Geordie," are among these, and are more or less effective,
but none are perfect. My surprise is not that so many
colliery explosions occur, but that they are so few. The
flippant comments on the ignorance of the miners that are
so commonly made are really due to the ignorance of the
commentators. The old story of the man who was
descending a dangerous pit with a lighted candle on his hat,
and, when reprimanded, replied, " Well, arnt I got my
Davy ? " may amuse a magic-lantern audience, but those who
know the simple but .shrewd-minded colliers are amused ia
contemplating the self-sufficient silliness of the audience,
who can suppose that their fellow-men, who are daily carry-
ing their lives in their hands, are ignorant of the primary
conditions upon which their safety depends.

It is true that familiarity with any danger induces a

April 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

127

certain degree of recklessness, and jjossibly some disasters
may have arisen from foolhardy fellows uncovering their
lamps to light their pipes; but every collier can gauge the
amount of explosive gases surrounding him by the state of
his lamp tlame, and there is such a thing as public opinion
underground. Any man known to be guilty of risking the
lives of all his fellow-workers for the sake of a smoke would
not escape unpunished by those upon whom the outrage had
been committed, especially by the women above ground
with vested interests in husbands below.

Considerable progress has recently been made in the
electric lighting of mines. Portable batteries and accu-
mulators are used as sources of power. Their weight, as at
present constructed, is a great objection. This will probably
be diminished with further progress. But even this will
demand protection, as the breaking of the glass bulb of an
incandescent lamp would expose a filament of burning
carbon nearly as dangerous as a flame. Perhaps their worst
defect is the absence of the warning which is given by the
behaviour of the common lamp flame.

LIFTING GREAT WEIGHTS.

IFTING exercises are open to the objection
that they tend only to increase the strength
of the body, activity not being increased by
any of them. A man who follows lifting
work only will be a slow mover, and what
Blaikie calls "muscle-bound," meaning that
the muscles themselves, by their undue or
disproportionate development, limit the
play of limb. Without agreeing with him that the full
degree of lissomeness which can be attained by exercises
of a contrary tendency is desirable, we must admit that a
muscle-bound condition is disadvantageous. Yet lifting
exercise, pursued with due consideration of the necessity
for an adequ.ate amount of correcting exercise, is exceedingly
useful, because in our daily life we constantly find occasion
for the use of the lifting powers of the body.

Lifting from the shoulder ought to be but a portion of
the lift from the ground to the full height of the upstretched
arm or arms. To lift a pair of weights from the ground,
slowly raising them to and past the level of the shoulders,
and thence to thrust them upwards, still slowly, till the
arms straighten, is a much severer exercise than to raise the
same weights from the shoulder only. And this last, again,
is more trying than to send up the same pair of weights
with sufficient velocity to carry them past the dead part of
the lift, which ranges from the height of the mid-chest to a
few inch&s above the shoulder. I, who can make no claim
to exceptional strength, can readily (or could a year or two
since, and suppose I still can) lift any one not exceeding
140 or 1.50 lbs. in weight to the full upward reach of my
arms if I start right ; but I could not lift two-thirds of that
weight slowly from the ground to above my head, or even
slowly from the height of my waist. The way to lift any
one easily in that manner is to place one hand upon the
waist, passing the other under the knees so that the liody
of the carried sinks somewhat, a motion resisted by the
elasticity of the arms and legs of the carrier and converted
into an upward motion from a height favourable to lifting —
such rapidity of rise being communicated that the body is
carried over the dead part of the lift, after which the arms
readily straighten and carry the weight to the full height.
The exercise is not to be recommended, however, as a safe
one for the pei-son lifted, because the person lifting has to
shift the hold of both hands on the way up, and if this is
not deftly done an unpleasant fall is apt to result. (The

last time I attempted a feat of the kind 1 was standing
before a tall wardrobe with my wife, when she remarked,
joking, "I wish I could get into that top shelf" — into
whose recesses she had been vainly reaching. I naturally
pretended to take her in earnest, and in another second she
was on the level of that shelf, but I fear not more favourably
placed for getting what she wanted than when on the floor.
In that case, however, there was no danger of a fall because
of the wardrobe's position. )

Nathalie, a French female gymnast, was able, according
to Farini, to take two .5G lb. weights from the ground, one
in each hand, and put them slowh' above her head. Let
those who can easily put up two such weights with a quicker
motion, try the slow movement, even with much smaller
weights, and the}" will recognise the difference. Farini
pointed out to Charles Reade that putting up an agile
gymnast is mere child's play to this, " because, in dealing
with the live object, the strong stoops, the agile springs, and
the strong arms are at an angle of -tS before the weight
tells ; now," proceeds Reade, " the ai-ms, as they near the
perpendicular, can hold up three times the ^\eight they can
put up." (He should rather have sjiid that the arms as they
near the perpendicular can put up three times the weight
they can lift up before they reach that position : they can,
however, lift up from the ground twice the weight they can
push up to their full upward reach.)

Lifting at arms' length exercises, so far as the arms are
concerned, an entirely different set of muscles from those used
in putting up weights. Nor can strength be so satisfac-
torily tested, or compared, by the former as by the latter
exercise. A long-armed man is here at a disadvantage, and
judging by the weight he can lift, might appear weaker
than a short-armed man really of less power in the arms.
I remember the disgust with which when at college I found
men whom I knew to be no sti'onger than myself able to
lift greater weights at arms' length, till I noticed that the
unusual length of my arms, which span horizontally fully
half a foot more than my height, put me at a disadvantage,
owing to the extra leverage involved. Our strongest man
at Cambridge Univei-sity then (18.")<3 to 18G0 was my time)
was, I believe, Mr. Duncan Darroch, who rowed "four" in
the 'Varsity boat in 1858, the year when Cambridge rowed
the fiimous race (which they won by 2 feet 6 inches) with
the London (_'lub eight, manned by Casamajor, Playford, the
Paines, and other famous oarsmen of the days before
sliding seats were invented. Mr. Howard Snow, afterwards
one of the masters at Eton, and now — but with altered
name — head master at Cheltenham College, and himself a
fiimous oarsman, stroke of the Cambridge boat in 1857 (and
bracketed first in classics in 1858), wrote of Darroch, in
somewhat doggerel rhymes : —

He'll lift as much as any other one can

Will Duncan ;
He has the strength of an entire barrack,

Has Darroch !

Darroch could lift a 56 lb. weight at arms' length. But
Darroch was short-armed for his height, and, as I remember
him, a muscle-bound man. Few men can expect by any
amount of training and practice to acquire the power of
lifting such a weight as 56 lbs. at arms' length. Thirty
pounds would be a very fair arms'-length lift for men of
average strength ; and even that would require exercise and
training.

Very good exercise in lifting can be obtained without
special apparatus, as by lifting chairs in different ways.
Thus the chair may be lifted at arms' length by a front
rung gi-asped knuckles upwards or knuckles downwards ; or
by the lower end of a front leg — the back being in every
case brought to a vertical position, and so maintained while

128

♦ KNOV\rLEDGE ♦

[April 2, 1888.

the lift lasts. Strength may be tested either by the weight
of the chair lifted, or by the time during which the
chair is held out.

It is noteworthy that often the man who can lift the
heaviest chair at arm.s' length in some particular way, may
be surpassed by another when the mode of lifting is altered.
And, again, those who lift the heaviest weights in these
ways are not always tho.^e who can maintain their hold
longest. R°solution comes in as a factor in the last-named
test. One will often see a great and strong but easy-going
man lift out at arms' length a weight which another cannot
bring for a moment to that position, who yet will not
hold out half that weight for half the time at which it will
be held out by the weaker, whose resolute will enables him
to sustain his hold to the very last.

In all these forms of lifting the arms are chiefly con-
sidered. Yet in reality the lower limbs have their work to
do, not only in sustaining the extra weight, but in sustain-
ing also the weight of the body. It is only in exercises
which require the body to be lifted from the ground that the
legs get no woi-k. Such exercises are among the severest
tests of strength, bacause they reverse the usual order of
things. To a sloth, accustomed always to have its weight
suspended, such exercises would come naturally : to men
they involve always a certain extra amount of ditiiculty as
compared with exercises in which the sustaining power of
the legs is called into action.

I need not touch on feats in which the body is merely
raised from the ground a certain number of times by the
action of both arms or of one arm only, or from a single
finger — as can readily be done after sufficient practice. I
do not, indeed, know what is actually the "record " for feats
of this sort. But for the actual lifting power of the arms,
I know of no feat ever accomplished wliich has surpassed
one which Nathalie, the lady mentioned above, was in the
constant habit of performing. She could extend her body
from the horizontal bar, supported only by one hand grasp-
ing the bar, knuckles downward ; then (for so far the feat
was not uncommon) she could put the other hand behind
her and take the bar with it, holding the body horizontally
by that hand. Farini told Charles Ileade that be had never
met with a male athlete who could do this ; j'et, added
Reade, "it was not knack: it was complete eithcr-handed-
ne.ss, coupled with gigantic strength."

Speaking of lifting the weight of the human body, I may
touch here on a somewhat absurd fancy many entertain
about an experiment in which four per.sons lift a fifth on
the tips of their fingers. I have repeatedly heard this ex-
periment spoken of as something very marvellous. The
person to be lifted draws in his breath and stiffens himself
generally ; the four who are to lift him also draw in full
breaths, " and then," the story goes on, " he is lifted with-
out any apparent effort " — meaning, of course, that he is
lifted quite easily. As, indeed, why should he not be 1 Tlie
person lifted usually weighs about 120 lbs., and each of 'the
four lifters would think it no great effort to lift 30 lbs.
with the forefinger. Drawing in a full breath is always a
good preliminary process for any muscular effort ; and after
this process each of the four lifters does easily what he can
always do easily, lifting not the fifth person bodily, but
just a fourth portion of his weight — 30 lbs., or -10 at the
outside.

In all lifting feats the lower limbs are really taxed, even
though the arms seem to do the work. To suppose other-
wise were to make a mistake as foolish as that of the Irish-
man (though why such stories should be put always upon
Irishmen I do not know) who thought to relieve his horse
by putting the meal sacks, which formed a large portion
of his load, over his own shoulders. I,ift a weight how we

may, the legs have to bear it. It will be understood, then,
that whatever weight the arms may seem to lift in any ex-
periment, the whole body can be made to lift much more.

In all stories of great weights which have been lifted it
will be found that the lifting power of the whole body has
been in question. This, indeed, is true of all the most
remarkable feats of strength which have been recorded.
One need not consider the feats of a Hercules {i.e. Herakles)
or of a Samson, seeing that both one and the other is a sun-
god, of whom naturally wonderful feats are narrated. (The
very name Samson means the glorious sun.)

Feats actually noted and recorded are sufficiently surpris-
ing witliout considering feats purely mythical.

The famous strong man, Topham, of Islington, may be
considered a fair illustration of those cases of exceptional
development of strength — without exceptional muscular
development — of which we hear from time to time, as we
hear from time to time of men remarkably large or remark-
ably small. It would seem as though some physiological
peculiarity in such men enabled them to get from their
muscles much more nearly their full action than (as physio-
logists know) is ordinarily possible. Toisham could take a
kitchen poker and twist it round hLs neck in such sort that
four or five strong men were unable to untwist it — a feat
which he accomplished as readilj' as the twisting. He could
squeeze a pewter pint-pot flat in bis hand, double up a crown
piece (familiarl}' known in former times as a " cart-wheel ")
with his fingers, and break a short piece of tobacco-pipe by
side jn-essure between two fingers opened out in V-shape.
This last feat, as depending on the action of muscles very
seldom trained to do any work, is specially remarkable ; it
serves to confirm the belief that Topham was able, as it were,
to charge his muscles with an exceptional supply of nerve
force. They were certainly not unusually developed, though
of course they were above the average size.

Van Eckeberg, an athletic German, lifted a weight of
nearly 3,000 lbs. by the use of the strength of his whole
body. He stood within a well-balanced framework heavily
loaded, and to be raised by straps attached to a strong waist-
band. The lifting power was obtained by straightening his
lower limbs (almost straight just before lifting). The
heavily- loaded framework was thus raised an inch or two, a
slight swaying movement showing the spectators that it was
really free from contact with the ground.

So powerful was Topham's frame for this sort of work,
that he pulled against a strong dray horse- -his body being
in a horizontal position, and the pull of the horse being
resisted by the pressure of his feet against two stirrups, so
that the action was akin to that of Van Eckeberg's in the
lifting experiment. Unfortunately, after he had successfully
resisted the pull of one horse in this way, he had one of his
knees .shattered in an attempt to pull against two horses,
and thereafter he was disabled from the performance of feats
of this kind. Great care indeed is required in all lifting
exercises to avoid any sudden change in the direction of the
pull.

The secret of this great lifting power of the legs in such
work lies in the fact that the action has that exceedingly
effective leverage which is employed in the Stanhope Press —
firmiliarly known, in fact, for this very reason, as " knee
leverage." When the legs are nearly upright the knees
may be perhaps half a foot from the position they take
when the legs are straightened. While they move through
this half foot the body is not raised more than perhajjs half an
inch ; consequently the power used in straightening the legs is
multiplied into a twelve-fold greater lifting power. It is
beaiuse of this powerful knee-straightening action that
lifting exercises are apt to develop abnormally the muscles
of the lower and inner end of the front thigh.

April 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

129

To lift a thousand pounds on the health-lift is no very
remarkable feat for a person of average strength, giving
sufficient time daily for a few months to practice. i\Ir.
Blaikie learned in this way, at the age of seventeen, to lift
a thousand pounds after only six months' practice. These
who prefer to lift an actually measured weight will find it
necessary to adopt some such plan as was employed by
Topham, preparing a framework to bear the weight, and
standing in its midst so as to lift the weight by means of
symmetrically-attached straps. For the body cannot, when
all aelant, bear such a weight as a thousand pounds.

Whether such exercise is good for the body as a whole
depends a good deal on the opportunities which a man has
for corx-ecting an abnormal development of the lifting
muscles by means of other exercises, increasing the develop-
ment of other muscles and giving activity as well as strength
to the frame.

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

Habitak. Corruption for the French word Iiahifant,
a landed proprietor on a small scale. The word is seldom
heard outside Canada on the northern side, and Louisiana
on the southern. When heard in the middle States, it
usually has a sound as entirely different from the Fiench
pronunciation as " Movey Star " is different from "Mauvaises
Terres," or " Lagrange " (rhyming with " range ") from the
French " Lagrange."

Had have. Hadn't oughter, and kindred combinations
and abominations are heard about as frequently in the
States as in the old country. Would that Bartlett " had
have " been justified in imph'ing that Americans only use
expressions which they " hadn't oughter " such as these.

Hail fro.m, To. The good old sea-phrase, " hail from "
for come from, bdomj to, is heard in America as in England,
though America has done her best to destroy her own sea-
carrying trade. But to call " Hail from," thus used, an
Americanism, is as absurd as it is to call " Hang out," for
live inside, American. Bartlett naturally does both, seem-
ing to know as much about English usage as the Saturday
Riview knows about Americanisms.

Hamsiock. 1 . The use of this word for a swinging- bed,
though of South American origin (Spanish Jamaca) has
now been for more than a century so widespread that to
regard it as an Americanism would be absurd. The use of
the " hammock '' as an open-air couch in gardens, on porches,
and so forth, is, however, undoubtedly much more common
in America than in the old country, the summer climate
inviting to lazy ways of lying (or " laying," as nine tenths
even of the " society people " of America call it), reclining,
sitting, and so forth. The grandsons — aye, and the .sons,
too — of men who in England would be ashamed to be lolling
and sprawling half the time, loll and sprawl all the time in
America. But for the constant infusion of new blood, the
American population would develop in a few generations
into a race no longer using chairs, except of the lazily
rocking sort, and regarding the upright position as involving
an exhausting tax on the energies.

2. The word Hammock is used in the Southern States, for
" a piece of ground thickly wooded, whether a prairie or a
hill, and distinguLshed from the immense forests of thinly
scattered pines, which with a few exceptions cover the
whole face of the country" (where the word " hammock" is
in vogue). This definition is from an article in the Xorth
American Revien: The word is not found in either Webster
or Worcester. I can find no evidence as to its origin, since
it is clearly quite distinct from the old word " hummock "
for rounded knolls. It is painful to have to admit ignorance

about an Americanism, with the Saturda;/ Revieir ready to
pounce on everj^ indication of my having undertaken in
these " notes " a task for which I am totally unfitted. I
may, however, remark that even as I had been myself using
for years two of the Americanisms which that omniscient
weekly strove to exploit as " recent inventions," I know by
actual experience what "hammock land" is, though I am
unable to say how the word " hammock " came into use. I
write these lines with half a dozen tracts of hammock land
in view, and with one such tract within five minutes' walk,
a portion of which has been cleared away for my own
special " potato patch " (the " potato " growing on it being
at present grape vines, however). I must ask the readers of
these " notes " to excuse me for occasionally reminding them
that I have had (and have) somewhat exceptional oppor-
tunities for comparing American with English expressions
and ways. I should not have thought of so doing had not
the greatly daring review which has recently made itself for
ever famous by attributing to Sir William Jenner the in-
vention of vaccination — when he was presumably a very
young man, a century ago — written of my modest "notes"
in terms implying that they had been evolved from
my moral or immoral consciousness. Yet are there some
things, strange to say, which the average Saturday Review
writer really does know, and know by the best of all
possible evidence, and among these is the fact that some
writers would for a consideration pen a treatise about the
Himalayan Snows, with no wider experience than a back
attic in Grubb Street would afford, or discuss the campaigns
of Napoleon or of Moltke with no better knowledge of the
military art than may be obtained in school- boy scrimmages.

Haxd. — It will hardly be believed that Bartlett includes
the expres.sion " hand " used in reference to proficiency — as
when we say that a man is a " good hand " at fighting, or
a " poor hand " at accounts — among Americanisms ; but he
does !

Handsome for generovs, is of course as thoroughly English
as any usage can well be. But Bartlett who includes this
usage among Amei-icanisms, overlooks an expression which,
though occasionally heard in England, is so much more
commonly heard iu America, that it might well have been
one of Bartlett's set. In America the expression' " he did
the thing handsome " would not be thought remarkable,
though a small percentage might be aware that it is
incorrect.

Hang. To get the " hang " of anything, meaning to
learn its nature and peculiarities, is an expression which has
long been in use in the old country, but is perhaps oftener
heard in America.

Hang, Arol-nd, To, signifying to loiter about, is only an
Americanism in regard to the word " around," which is
used here where in England we should say "about"
or " round." I am inclined to think that the word
" around " constantly used in America where we say
" round," is in reality the more correct adverbial form,
" round " being a corruption by clipping, which in strict-
ness should be written " 'round." I have myself become so
accustomed to the American usage that I have found the
word " around " making its appearance frequently in my
^vriting, insomuch that an English friend of mine whoiskindly
helping me in the revision of my " Old and New Astronomy "
has had occasion to alter " around " into the more usual
"round" in quite a numter of places. I was thus led to
examine my earlier works, written before I had lived in
America, as I have during about six years out of the last
fifteen, partly expecting to find that I used the word
"around " as freely then as now. But in my " Saturn and
its System " I find that where I should now be apt to
write" " around " I wrote either " about " or " round," the

130

♦ KNOAVLEDGE ♦

[April 2, 1888.

former much the more fiequently, probably because the
word " about " is constantly used in mathematical works
when rotation or revolution is in question. In passing, I
may remark that my first acquaintance with the American
usage was formed when (somewhere about the year 1855) I
heard Mrs. Florence as the " Yankee Gal " singing tbe
well-known song " Bobbin' Around." But the refrain " As
we went bobbin' around," familiar though it became, did not
so far affect my English as to make me write of Saturn as
bobbin' around the sun. He still continued seilateh-, even
Saturninely, to " revolve about " the ruler of the solar
system.

Hano Out, To. Bartlett not only regards this as an
Americanism, but identifies it as Western, almost as
Chicagoese. It was already old in England before Chicago
began to be a place. Those elegant medical students, Messrs.
Bob Sawyer and Benjamin Allen, could have enlightened
^Ir. Bartlett more than half a century ago about this bit of
old English slang.

Haxg Up One's Fiddle, To. To give up ; an expression
frequently heard in the Middle and Noi-thern States, but
probably of southern (nigger) origin. " Hang up nm fiddle
and um bow-ow-ow " will be recognised as part of the refrain
of a very ancient nigger song.

Happex in. To. To come in accidentally, short for " to
happen to come in."

Happen on. To. To happen to meet, short for " to happen
to come upon " such and such a person. The later, but now
not very recent, Americanism for this idea, is " to strike."
Where of old a man would say, " I happened to come on
our friend Mr. Jones yesterday," an American would
formerly have said (and many Americans would still say),
" I happened on friend Jones yesterday," while an American
of to-day, especially if a westerner, would be apt to say, " I
struck Jonas yesterday."

Hard Case. A term not unknown to the British police
for an irreclaimable criminal, extended as an Americanism to
hopeless rakes, blackguards, drunkards, poker-players, et id
r/enus omne.

Hard Pan. Bartlett describes this as primarily a geolo-
gical term ; but though a geologist may occasionally speak
of a hard and water-tight stratum of hollow shape as a hard
pan of clay or gravel, or describe such a stratum as the
hard pan below such and such strata, yet the term " hard
pan " has not in this indefinite form }"et taken its place in
the geological vocabulary. " Hard pan " as an Americanism,
signifying the bottom of things, is doubtless derived from
mining experience. A man might dig for gold through sti'atum
after stratum without altogether losing hope, till he came
down to the hard water-tight stratum below ; but when he
had thus reached " hard pan " he gave up. To say, then,
" W'e are coming to ' hard pan,' " or " we have now reached
' hard pan,' " is equivalent to saying. We are now beginning
to know with certainty, or we can now form a definite
opinion. The ide;\ is more poetically expressed, but with
the same inner significance, in Wordsworth's well-worn
lines : —

To the solid ground of nature
Trusts the mind that builds for aye.

Hard Row to Hoe, A. A tough business to get through.
Haliburton has made us familiar with this expression as an
Americanism, but it may be regarded as surely of English
agricultural origin.

Hardshell, used as an adjective for thorough-going, is
probably a pure Americanism, since the term was originally
suggested as the difi'erence between the hardshell and soft-
shell crab, and we have no soft-shell crabs in the old
country.

{To he continued.)

THE STARS OF OTHER TIMES.

{C ontimoed from page 112.)

HE southern stereogi-aphic map in the present
number needs no separate explanation, being
drawn on the same plan as the northern,
and having the same general interpreta-
tion.

It is, however, altogether the more in-
tei-esting map of the two. The stars north
of the ecliptic have alwaj's been visible up to about 60° 30'
north latitude, and the stars in the northern map, which
ranges 10° south of the ecliptic, have been always visible, at
suitable times and seasons, as far north as about 56° 00'.
But stars shown in the southern map are for the most part
such as are only brought into view in northern latitudes by
the .slow precessional motion of the equator along the
ecliptic, and after being thus in view for a time — hundreds,
or it may be thousands of years, according to their position
on the star-sphere — are carried out of view again, so a-s to
be unknown in the latitudes where they had so long been
known, during hundreds of future generations. Moreover,
the aspect of the .southern stir groupings as they rise to
their greatest height above the horizon of northern lati-
tudes, changes continuously with the precessional movement,
much as the aspect of northern star-groupings changes
during the night. As Cassiopeia and Andromeda, for
example, Auriga, Bootes, and Cepheus, are sometimes pre-
sen'ed in such positions that tbe figures associated with
them have the uprightness desirable with men and women,
but at other times are aslant or inverted, prone or supine,
so the ship Argo and the altar Ara have held very diflerent
positions at their culmination in past times than now, and
will continue slowly to change in position as the precessional
motion continues.

Doubtless it is due to such changes as these that several
southern constellations are no longer recognisable from any
resemblance between their configuration and such objects
as altars, .ships, animals, and men. For a star-grouping
which will readily suggest to the imaginative mind the idea
of some known object when that object, so imagined, would
be in a natural attitude, will suggest no such idea in any
other position. To see this we have only to consider the
case of the constellation Orion. In one position this grand
star-group suggests the idea of a giant holding a shield of
some sort in front of him, and standing upright, while in
another it suggests the idea of the giant raising himself
towards the upright position, and in yet another, that
of the giant slanting forwards as if running down a slope.
But seen near the horizon at the equator, when the giant
would have to be imagined either prone or supine (supine
in the east and prone in the west), the constellation does
not suggest the idea of a man at all : while in the southern
hemisphere, though the idea of a giant is again suggested,
it is a giant of another figure and presented in a diflferent
way, the shoulders of our northern Orion representing
the knees of the southern giant, and vice versa.

Thus it becomes a problem of some interest to determine
how the star-groupings associated with diflerent objects and
figures appeared when those particular constellations re-
ceived their names : for thus not only may we be able to
correct our determination of the date of such naming, but
we may obtain evidence more or less satisfactoi-y respecting
the occurrence of changes among the stars, we may be able to
find some explanation of the ideas of men in old times
respecting the constellations, and we may even be able to
find an interpretation of certain religions which were
associated in far-off" times with the stars.

The study of the .southern star-chart will serve to show

Ai'KiL 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

131

THE ZODIAC

AND THE

SOUTHERN STARS

ln'Kii't''A.l'roctor.

Soiilo of

Stai- Ma.^iiitudo3.

TCrst _ ^

Seconci ^

Iluj-d. *

I'cuTbx. ♦

fifth. A

ON TH E

STEREOGRAPHIC
PROJECTION

From- Ons chartOu; rcsUion of
Bu-So-uOi PoUa„dB(fuatoraa>v/
damfT-onucsiS.C toJ*a2*yLD.
cwLbe at once determintd..

132

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

[April 2, 1888.

how the celestial equator was situate with respect to the
soathern constellations — (1) at the time corresponding to the
building of the Great Pyramid, aud (li) in the days of tlie
early Greek astronomers. I would invite special attention to
the position of the ship Argo, which was horizontal when cul-
minating at the former epoch, aslant in the days of Hippar-
chus and Ptolemy, and is now more aslant still. As a ship
may be said to be in her natural position when on an even
keel, we have in this result evidence of some force to show that
the constellation received its name at the earlier period, or
more than 3,000 years before the Christian era. At any
rate, further inquiry into this question is suggested.
{To he continued.)

EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE.

By Ada .S. Ballin.

X.— ROOTS AND THEIR USES.

AVING spoken of the probable origin of a
large number of roots, we can now turn
with interest to the use of roots in the
various languages known to us. As Mr.
Garnett announced in 1849, after a searching
analysis of more than eighty languages, word
endings were originally uninHected pro-
nominal roots, with a locative signification. Roots are all
that Ls primitive in language, and sentences are even now
found wholly composed of these elements.

In a private letter to me, Mr. Frederick 11. Balfour —
than whom few are more familiar with the Chinese lan-
guage and its dialects, as used at the jiresent day, as well as
with the classical or literary languige — once observed :
" I may safely say that it would be difficult to write one
sentence which did not consist of roots, for every character
embodies a root idea, and is used for ordinary purposes, in
literature as well as conveisation, without inflection."

According to the manner in which roots are combined,
we find three stages of language : — •

I. The radical, in which, as in Chinese, roots are used
independently, supplying the place of all parts oi speech, as
« cluing, " employ stick," meaning " with a stick."

II. The agglutinative, in which two roots may be joined
to form a word, in which compound one root may lose its
independence, the stage called by Max MiiUer, to whom
this classification of language i.s due, the terminational,
exemplified by the Turanian family, in which the lOot
stands out clear from the termination, as, for example,
from the Turkish root hakar, to regard, we have hakarim,
hakar-sin, and so in conjugating the verb.

III. The inflectional, in which two roots may be joined
together to form words, both losing their independence in
Aryan and Semitic languages.

As long as every word or part of a word is felt to
express its own radical meaning, a language belongs to the
first or radical stage. As a specimen of this stage, Chinese
is the stock example ; but although it is alwa^'s regarded as
a monosyllabic language, a large proportion of its parts of
speech are formed of two charactei-s (root words) joined or
used in apposition, each of which supplements and explains
the other. The combination thus eflected presents a distinct
dLssyllable. As Sumner says: — " A word in Chinese //*«;/
consist of one .syllable, but, from the want of grammatical
inflections, and from the limited number of .syllables in use,
a monosyllable is rarely intelligible when alone ; it generally
requires some adjunct to limit or strengthen its meaning."

Chinese words have neither classification nor inflection,
and distinctions of case, number, person, tense, mood, and so

on, are non-existent. The meaning of a character or word,
and its place in the sentence, generally determines to what
category of our grammar it belongs ; but frequently auxiliary
syllables and particles distinguish the parts of speech. The
syllables which serve to strengthen the original notion
expressed by the chief syllable denote the (cjent, an object,
the completion or expansion of the chief idea, or " are
purely formative in character, and produce nouns or verbs,
adverbs or adjectives, as conventional u.sage has determined." *
A noun, from its position, may become a verb, or it may so
stand with another noun as to signify a preposition.
Thus hid-shan, " descend a mountain " ; hid-fCimj, " lower
room " ; shdn-hid, "at the foot of a mountain," hid in other
combinations meaning " below " ; icai, " exterior " ; ivai-ktro,
" foreign countries " ; kivo-wni, " out of the country." The
Chinese word cannot therefore be regarded as really either
noun, verb, or other part of speech, since, under different
conditions, but without any change in itself, it may come to
represent each in turn.

Chinese words which may be classed under our head of
nouns, as far as regards their use or derivation, may be
divided into three kinds : — 1. Primitive nouns, mono-
syllables bearing their original signification, and generally
used in the monosyllabic or crude form, such as jin,
" man " ; fan, " rice " ; ch'a, " tea." The class is not a
large one, and the monosyllables are not understood by the
('hinese when pronounced separately, being only used in
connection with other words — as "a man," >/i kb {one), jin ;
k'ifdn, '• to eat rice " = " to dine " ; fsaicfdn, " early rice "
= " breakfast " ; or wan-fan, " late rice " = " dinner " ; and
so on.

2. Nouns derivative, made by the addition of one or
more formative syllables — a much more numei'ous class,
which always remain nouns, while some of the former class
may be used as verbs. The formative syllables in these
nouns .serve the same purpose as terminations in inflectional
languages. Thus jin, man; kfmg-jin, a workman; sJieii,
hand; shwul-sheu, "water hand," a sailor; ilr, infant;
nil ilr, " a girl " ; jin-ar, " a man " ; kiii, " family " ; jin-kid,
" people." 3. Composite nouns, which are formed by the
connection of two or three .syllables, each of which retains
its proper signification.

The same syllable may be repeated, as nal-nal, " married
lady of rank " ; or synonyms may be united, as sm-c/idng,
" the heart, the feelings " ; or a noun may be formed of two
verbs, as Mng-wei, " actions," from two words meaning, ' to
do." Nouns expressing the abstract notions of verbs are
generally formed in this latter way, just as the infinitive is
used in Greek and German — ro TV)(fiir, das Leben, das
Haben, and so on. Two adjectives are united to form
nouns, as chln-pail, " precious-precious ":=a jewel ; yiu-mun,
" sad-sorrowful "^sorrow. Many nouns are formed by
placing generic terms, as, for example, the equivalents for
tree, stone, fish, &c., after the special object ; as we say
limestone, fir-tree, and the like. Words expressive of time
and place, generally used as prepositions or adverbs, also
enter into the composition of nouns, as in the former exam-
ples : tsaii-fdn, " early rice " ; Ger., Friih-stilck, " early
piece " ; wdnfdn, " late rice " ; Ger., Abend-brod, " evening
bread," for the evening meal, supper; k'ln-ji, " now-day ":=
today. Cf. the uses of riv and ttu/Vu.

The modes of expressing abstract notions are exceed-
ingly interesting. A common method is to combine
opposites, as " light-heavy "^weight, " many-few "=quan-
tity, " long-short "=length, " high-low "=:height, and so
on. Others are formed by the addition of such words as
?</'/, breath ; fiing, vfind; 6mi, heart; sing, nature, disposi-
tion, faculty : thus — i-h'i, integrity ; lidng-sln, conscience ;

* Sumner's " Handbook of the Chinese Language," p. 41.

April 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

133

min-j'ung, nationality; iih'in-k''i, sadness. Others are formed
in the same way as the other nouns mentioned above : thus
mal-mai, " to buy — to sell "=:trade ; fdn-pi, " to divide — to
distinguish "^difference ; siaii-stn, " little-heart "^atten-
tion, and so on.

Diminutives are formed by the addition of words sig-
nifying "little" or "small," "child" and "infant." The
distinctions of gender and number are similarly made by
words prefixed or suffixed to the principal word, iidu male,
and nil female being prefixed to jin to express the gender
of the person spoken of, and kung "male," and mu
" mother " to names of animals, in order to distinguish
their gender. The plural is expressed bj- the reduplication
of the word, by prefixing some syllable meaning " all,"
"many," or "class," or by employing a numeral. The only
case which can be distinguished by the form of the expres-
sion is the genitive, indicated by the particles <? in speaking,
and c/(7 in books; these are by nature demonstratives, and
stand for the English apostrophe s, 's or s'.

Chinese adjectives may be divided into three classes in the
same way as nouns ; some may be looked upon as primitive,
being seldom used in any but an adjectival relation, for
example hau, "good" is generally used as an adjective,
though, with a change of tone, it is hau, " to love."

Some monosyllables are used as verbs ; but they are
almost always assisted by some other syllable of cognate
meaning, and thus the spoken language of China is poly-
syllabic rather than monosyllabic, as it is usually supposed
to be. There is no distinction between active and passive,
person and number, the context guiding to the meaning, and
niocle and time are similarly shown by the context and the
conditions under which the sentence is spoken. The com-
position of verbs is similar to that of nouns, they being formed
by (a) repetition as k'au-k'a u " look, look " = look ;(/>) bj- joining
an auxiliary to the primitive, as tie-si, " fall, die "= fall
down dead ; (c) by prefixing to one verb another denoting
power, ori<jin, desire, intention, kc, as k'l, " arise, begin,"
k'l-tso, " begin to do " ; (rf) by placing verbs before or after
others to denote intention or completion of the action, as
Una, to finish, si-liau, " is or was dead," ?, " already," l-chi,
" has arrived " ; thus the past tense is expressed, and the
future may be indicated by the addition of syllables meaning
wish, approach, certainly, and the like, thus, " wish go " for
v;ill or shall go, " approach do " for shall do or about to do,
" certainly walk " for shall icalk or must u-alk ; («) by uniting
two verbs as in (6), but the union of which gives a different
meaning to its parts, as ki-fi, " to record, obtain "= to
remember, tseii-k'ai, " walk open "^ to inalk airai/ ; (_/') by
adding the proper object to the verb, like the cognate
accusative in Greek, a new verb being thus formed, as kt
or chi-Jan, "eat rice," for eat (any meal), t'Jng-mhig, "ILsten
to, order "^ obey ; there are still other forms, but these
sufficiently indiftxte the system. Many nouns are used as
verbs, the context only determining to which part of speech
they belong ; these are always monosyllables, as tien=^a
point, dot, also to jnmctuate, to blot out, to light, to nod ;
tau=:a road, reason, also to say ; schvjo-kivd=conversatio7i,
also to talk.

By a change in tone when .speaking, the voice and kind
of the verb may be changed, an active verb becoming
passive, or a transitive neuter or causative — as vet, " to
make, to do," changes into wei, " to be made," " to be
considered as."

A verb standing alone or as the first word in a clause
generally serves as an imperative. The imperative is also
marked by auxiliaries, signifying to invite or beg, to cause,
call, exhort, and the like. The passive voice is sometimes
expressed by auxiliaries, meaning " to receive," " to meet
with," " to suflfer," and so on.

In Chinese, then, the roots, although combined to express
one idea, maintain their individuality of form, but signs are
not wanting to show that eveu here the same agencies are
at work which have brought other languages to the agglutina-
tive stage in which the meaning of one root is lost, so that
in the formation of the new word it becomes a mere
appendage. Thus in Chinese " ten " is shX, and " two " is dr,
for " twenty " the two are joined, and we have dr-shX; this
process is clear, but a knowledge of the structure of lan-
guage enables us to perceive that tventy was also originally
Ivo X ten. In Chinese what corresponds to our loctitive is
formed in several ways, as by adding such words as chilng,
the middle, or niii, inside. An old word J, meaning to
use, forms the instrumental, as the classical i chang, with a
stick. In Sanscrit every substantive has a locative — for
example, hrid heart, hridi in the heart, the short i repre-
senting the same I'oot which produced the preposition in, so
that, like the similar Chinese usage, liridi meant literally
heart-trithin. Other cases and the various forms of the
verb have been shown to have arisen in the same manner.

As soon as such words as li in uo-li, " at home," li
originally metining " interior," in, or I in i chamj, with a
stick, lose their etymological meaning, and become mere
signs of derivation or of case, language enters on the second
or terminational stage. By far the largest number of
languages belong to this stage.

Thus in C!hine.<e, and more especially in some of its
dialects, a rudimentary form of agglutination may be
observed. Modern Chinese are not aware that the locative
suffix li, as in im-U, oiiginally meant "interior," and in the
Shanghai dialect loo is to speak as a verb ; woda, a noun
" word " with trod-aka, used like our genitive ; fang-woda as
accus;itive, and pela woda as a dative. Similarly in
agglutinative languages traces of infiection have been dis-
covered. There is partial blending of termination and root
in some Kalmuck dialects, and in Tamil the derivative
tukharn, " sleep," has not retained the proper form of its
root t.iingd, while in Turkish still further advances towards
inflectional forms have been made.

STRANGE WHIST HAND.

By Richard A. Proctor.

OBSERVE that many English papers contain
an account of a case in which the dealer at
whist held all the trumps — and aU repeat the
mi.stake of asserting that according faj Professor
Pole the chance of such an event is but one in
639,013,559,600 I feel sure Professor Pole
never fell into such a mistake. The chance is
really one in 158,753,389,900 ; but the a jn-iori' pro-
bability that any player will hold thirteen cards of a named
suit is that quoted from .some misunderstood statement of
Professor Pole's. The subject is dealt with fully at pp. 190,
and 19-1:-197, in my " How to Play Whist," under the title
" Whist Whittlings."

It is also a mistake to suppose that because there is but
one case among 158,753,389,900 possible dealings at whist in
which all the trumps go to the dealer, therefore so many
trials would be required to give an even chance of such an
event. To illustrate the fallacy underlying such a statement
— there are two possible events in coin tossing, but it does
not require two trials to give an even chance of tossing
head. Half that /lumber suffices. In articles of mine on
Probabilities in former numbers of Knowledge, this point is
fully considered, and the proper ratio determined.

I may touch on these points again in " Our Whist
Column " later.

134

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

[April 2, 1888.

METEOR BIRTH OF THE UNIVERSE.

SOMEWHAT siu-prisiug communication (see
the last i)ai'agrapb of this article) has been
recently addressed by Mr. J. N. Lockyer to
the Eoyal Society on the subject of the
probable origin of the universe from meteoric
aggregation. A brief account of the history
of this theory from its inception to the
present time may serve at once to interest reader.s and to
show in what respect the latest communication on the subject
is chieiiy remarkable.

In 18-iS, long before the knowledge respecting meteors
had been obtained which has recently thrown such interest-
ing light on their importance in the universe, Dr. Mayer, of
Heilbronn, enunciated the theory that the sun's heat is due
to the constant indraught of meteoric matter upon the ruling
centre of the solar system. This theory involved implicitly
the theory that, besides our own sun, all his fellow-suns, the
stars, owe their light and heat to meteoric aggregation.
Nay, it had to be extended still more widely to include such
heat as once pervaded the frames of all the members of the
solar system — giant planets, terrestrial planets, aerolites, and
satellites — as well as the heat which in like manner per-
vaded, millions of years ago, the masses of all the orbs
circling in system around all the thousands of millions of
suns constituting our galaxy. While, also, beyond our own
sidereal .sj'stem all the other similar systems which doubtless
pervade the infinitudes of space must presumalily (if Mayer's
theory were accepted) owe their light and heat — in other
words, their life — to meteoric collisions.

Mayer's theory has not secured acceptance in its original
form. Supported for a while by Sir W. Thom.son, Mr.
Joule, and other leading mathematicians and physicists, it
was rejected by asti'onomers, who knew from the motions
of the planets that there is not a sufficiency of ungathered
material within the solar system to account for more than
ten years' emission of solar heat. \^et in another form the
theory has been accepted as affording practically the only
feasible explanation of the sun's heat. We now regard the
heat of the great central luminary as almost wholly due to
the action of gravity on the component materials of the
sun's mass, tliat heat being in technical terms the thermal
equivalent of the mechanical energy expended in the process
of solar contraction. Grant only that the sun's whole mass
was produced by a process of meteoric aggregation, and we
perceive that this theory of the origin of solar — and there-
fore of stellar and planetary — heat is simply a development
of Dr. Maj'er's meteoric theory.

Recognising this, I could not advance as original the
theory which I have presented and discussed in the chapter
on " Comets and Meteors " in my " Other Worlds than
Ours," though much of the evidence was considered there
for the first time, and details of the theory as I advanced it
were entirely original. I there showed that, whereas the
nebular theory of Laplace (which was advanced by that
great mathematician merely as a hypothesis) affords no
explanation whatever of the strange way in which the masses
of the solar .system are distributed, the theory of meteoric
aggregation gives a very fair account of all the leading
features of the system, from the surpassing mass of Jupiter
to the insignificant combined mass of the thousands of
small planets which travel in a zone next within the orbit
of the chief giant of the solar system.

But in the meantime, as also since 1870, when my own
first discussion of the meteoric theory of the birth of our
solar system appeared, discoveries most interesting and
important in character had been and have been in jirogie.ss.
Some of these I have myself discussed at length in these

columns ; and even if I had not I could not find space to
discuss them here. Let it suffice to mention the leading
names and the discoveries of chief inteiest. In America
Professor Newton, of Yale College, called special attention
to the significance of the periodicity of the November
meteors ; and through his researches, combined with those
of Schiaparelli, Adams, Alexander Herschel, and many
others, it has been established that meteor systems play an
altogether more important part in the economy of the solar
system than bad formerly been imagined. The connection
between falling-stars, meteors, fire-balls, and aei'olites was
also satisfactorily demonstrated, a discovery by which the
importance of these various orders of bodies in the
universe, considered alike with reference to space and to
time, was still further indicated. The microscopical studies
of Sorby, the English mineralogist, and the chemical studies
of Graham, the chemist, showed the structure of meteorites
to be akin to what we must regard as the probable structure
of the material forming the sun's mass. M. Stanislas
Meunier and Daubree in France indicated at once the
varieties of structure, microscopical, chemical, and physical,
existing among meteorites, and the identity of each one of
these varieties with some variety recognised among terres-
trial materials, especially among materials found deep
within the crust of the earth. As the oneness of structure
existing within the solar system, and indeed within the
universe itself, has long ago been recognised, we may
regard these researches and the kindred researches of
Dewar, Tschermak, and others, as comprising the general
theory that all the discrete masses in the universe, from the
largest suns to the smallest satellite, are products of meteoric
aggregation.

A very important part of the evidence in favour of the
theory that all the orbs in the universe were thus formed
has always been recogni.sed in the variety of character
recognised in the stars as analysed with the spectroscope.
Rutherfurd in this country, Secchi, Miller, Huggins, and
Vogel in Europe, have shown that the stars maybe arranged
in classes, indicating varieties of temperature ranging from
heat producing only the faintest luminosity to the trans-
cendent heat of the giant suns whose whole masses seem
vaporised, if even (as Professor Clarke, of Cincinnati,
suggested) the very elements, as we consider them, are not
dissociated into the true elements of which they are in
reality compounded. This, of course, is what we should
expect to follow from the immense range of variety in
regard to mass existing in the universe of suns. If these
orbs owe their heat to the combined processes of meteoric
aggregation and contraction, it must necessarily follow that
the larger masses will be the hotter, not only as pervaded
primarily by a more intense heat, but as parting more slowly
with their heat than smaller masses. (They would give
out more heat absolutely, moment by moment, but less
relatively to the totality of heat pervading their orbs.)

Thus the theory of meteoric aggregation as suggesting
the true method of cosmogonic evolution has long had a
great mass of evidence, very varied in character, in its
favour. On the other hand, it is open to none of those
physical objections which oppose themselves persistently
and with overwhelming weight against the nebular theory
of Laplace. It requires us to believe in no such unthink-
able impos.sibility as a vast disc of infinitely tenuous vapour
presenting all the characteristics of a practically infinite
rigidity. This indeed is the merest beginning of the
difficulties besetting Laplace's hypothesis — difficulties not
recognisable in his day, though he seems to have felt some-
thing of their force when he remarked that he presented
the hypothesis "avec la defiance que doit inspirer tout ce
qui n'est point un resultat de I'observation ou du calcul."

April

1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

135

What the great master of mathematical astronomy thus
advanced with caution, and even with mistrust, is by the
less informed in our-time urged with confidence amounting
to daring. " Fools rush in " — " the proverb is something
musty."

The theory of the meteoric origin of the universe is
interesting and attractive, if not in some aspects imposing
and almost awful. It has been so long before the scientific
world that Mr. Lockyer's manner of advancing it as a new
cosmogony must be regarded as awfully imposing in
another sense. We may, however, regard Mr. Lockyer's
adoption of the theoiy (like his former absorption of
Professor Clarke's fine theory of the probably compound
nature of the so-ailled elements) as indicating the approach-
ing acceptance of the theory by the public at large as well
as by the students of science.

THE AMERICAN TROTTING-HORSE.

IIOFESSOR WILLIAM H. BREWER, in a
paper on the " Evolution of the American
Trotting-Horse," shows that the trotter is an
American product, and that it is still in pro-
cess of evolution. He gives a column of figures
to .show the speed that has been attained in
this new form of motion, from a speed of three
minutes in 1818 down to two minutes ten and a quarter
seconds in 1881. The materials for a curve are offered
to mathematicians, and Professor Francis E. Nipher
("American Journal of Science and Arts," vol. xxvi.,
p. 378), in a mathematical article on the subject, shows that
a definite time of ninety-one seconds will ultimately be
attained by the American trotter 1 Mr. W. H. Pickering
("St. Louis Academy of Sciences," May 7, 1883; also
" American Journal of Science and Arts," vol. xxvi.,
p. 20), however, urges some objections to the deductions of
Professor Nipher. — Popular Science Monthly.

OYSTER PROTECTION.

HE great problem of food-supply has led to
legislative enactments for the purposes of
regulating the trapping and netting of game
and fish. State and Government gi-ants
have been made for fish commissions ; but,
unless the public are clearly educated in the
rudiments of zoological science and the prin-
ciples of natural selection, appropriations will come tardily
and in limited amounts. Dr. W. K. Brooks, in his report
to the State of Maryland as one of the oyster commissioners,
after showing the absurd way in which the problem of oj'ster-
protection has been dealt with, and strenuously urging the
necessity of ovster-culture, calls attention to the fact that
" civilised races have long recognised the fact that the true
remedy is not to limit the demand, but rather to increase
the supply of food, bv rearing domestic sheep and cattle and
poultry in place of wild deer and buffaloes and turkeys, and
by cultivating the scround instead of searching for natural
fruits and seeds of the forests and swamps." Mr. Ernest
Ingersoll, author of the " Report on the Oyster Industry,"
tenth United States census, ha-s, in an address before the
Geographical Society of New York, a striking sketch of the
effect of the white man on the wild animals of Xorth America,
showing that, had the Indians remained in possession, little
if any change would have taken place. The Indian, like the

predaceous animals, hunts only for food, and shows even in
this habit a wholesome self-restraint, never killing wantonly.
He called attention to the survival of a number of small
birds about the dwellings of man as the result of favourable
conditions, such as a constant supply of food, &c. He shows
that the contact of man in the main has been disastrous.
His remarks on the oyster are timely ; he shows its
extermination along the coast by man's agency. " Hardly
more than a century has elapsed since men believed that the
oyster-beds of New York were inexhaustible, and that a
small measure of legal protection, feebly maintained, was
quite enough to sustain them against any chance of decay.
So they thought in Mass;\chusetts, where the oysters have
not only disappeared but have been forgotten. So they
think now in Maryland and Virginia, where their fond
expectations are destined to equal downfall." — Professor
E. S. Morse, in the Popular Science Monthly.

THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE MAORI.*

.\(JRI means " native, but the ilaori ai'e
not the aboriginal dwellers in New Zealand.
As nftir as the traditions* which recount
the generations of chiefs enable us to reckon,
between four and five centuries have elapsed
since the immigration from Hawaiki, by
which Meinicke says is meant the mythical
Lvnd of origin of the whole Polynesian I'ace,
and not any particular island, although the affinities of the
Maori language point to Raratonga. These traditions agree
as to the discover}' of New Zealand by Kupe, a native of
Hawaiki, who formed an expedition of thu-teen canoes and
ventured across the ocean, and to those canoes the several
tribal divisions appear to correspond.

The Malaj'o-Polynesian origin of the Maori is beyond
question, the differences now existing between them and
kindred races of the Pacific being due to intermingling with
the aborigines, who were of the lower Papuan type, and
markedly inferior both in bodUy and mental capacity to
their conqueroi-s. These have in their turn, not without a
fierce struggle, succumbed to the British arms : their decay
set in fifty years ago, and their ultimate extinction is only
a question of time, so that the task which !Mr. White,
following in the wake of Sir George Grey, Taylor, Buller,
Bastian, and others, has set himself in collecting traditions
of no small value, however adulterated and fragmentary as
some of them may be, will secure him the gratitude of
anthropologists. His boo't is for students, and they alone
Rin rightly assess the worth of his labours, but the material
gathered will filter through them to the general reader, to
whom meanwhile some ide,a of the contents of this volume
may be acceptable. The task undertaken in it and in the
volumes which are to follow is " no less than to give the
Maori traditions of his i-ace as they relate to the creation of
the world, the origin of its animal and vegetable life, the
ancient wars in the home of his ancestors, the migi-ations
and perils and arrivals of the several canoes in New
Zealand, the people they found here, and the ten-itory they
respectively occupied ; the names given to the mountains,
rivers, headlands, and their meaning ; the tales of folk-lore,
of fairies, ghosts, and spirits, of the monsters of the earth
and sky ; his traditions relating to the art of tattooing, and
the ceremonies connected with births, marriages, deaths,

» " The Ancient History of the Maori." Vol. I. : Taki-Tnmu
Migration. By John White. (Wellington : Government Press ;
London : Colonial Booksellers' Agency.)

136

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[AriiiL 2, 1888.

and tapu,* and the songs and proverbs of his people," the
text being given as well as the translation.

Such were the themes on which, sitting under a shady
tree, the priests of the okl faith discoursed to Mr. White,
daring " to disclose some of their sacred lore," but leaving
blanks now and then which no logic or persuasion could
induce them to fill. " The parts I have not related," said
one, " are so sacred that I withhold them in dread of
sudden death." " I cannot give some of our sacred history,"
said another, "as not an old priest now remains alive who
has the power to perform the ceremonies to save me from
the penalty of divulging the sacred words of the gods." The
extreme care with which the ancient legends were guarded so
as to secure their unimpaired transmission, the existence of an
hereditary caste which was the vehicle of the sacred oracles,
are among the many evidences of a highly-organised social
state, which, however, existed side by side with insatiate
cannibalism. The chapter in which Mr. White describes
the Whare-Kura, or sacred school in which the eldest sons
of the priests were taught mythology and history, as also
the rites and incantations of the craft, is full of interest.
Besides this school of divinity, there were schools of
astronomy, in which the .study of omens to be drawn from
the movements of the heavenly bodies was practised, and
schools of agriculture and manufactures, all of which were
open to every class. In the Taki-Tumu traditions, which
this volume embraces, Maui, the great culture-hero, the
ancestral fisherman who in many a Polynesian myth
hooks >ip the islands from the ocean, is by no means
])vominent. We have details of the descendants of poly-
gamous gods which rival the genealogical chapters of
Scripture in their dryness ; but these are followed by many
variants of the wide-spread myth of the separation of earth
and sky, the substance of which, old at its base but new in
much of its super.structure, is as follows. Eangi (heaven)
and Papa (earth) were lying together, and all between them
were vines and creepers, tender plants, and red water. All
was dark, and their children were born therein, but having
seen a glimmer of light in the armpit of Rangi, they re-
solved to separate their parents. However much the myths
ditfer in detail, they agree in assigning this task to Tane.
Having sundered apart his fiither and mother, he propped
up his father, but not liking to see the nakedness of the
pair, he caught stars and threw them heavenward " to
beautify Rangi, that he might be comely," and then went
sunwards to bring trees and plants wherewith to clothe
Papa. But the love of the parted ones was unabated ; the
tears of Papa are carried to Rangi as mist and dew, and the
sighs of Rangi are borne on the west wind to Papa,
" tickling his ears " ; in another myth " he sighs for her in
the winter, and this is the origin of ice." The dualism of
Christian and other theologies peeps out in the myth that
after Tane went to heaven, Tu and Eoko destroyed the
ci'eatures which he had gatheied for food, and then, follow-
ing him, fought a battle on the borders of heaven, when
Tu was slain and Eoko cast down, like Satan and his
wicked angels. And passibly we have some mixture of
Eastern and Oceanian legend in the creation of man out of
red clay, and of woman from a sloppy mixture which Tane
makes in human shape, and then infuses life into it by processes
which cannot well be detailed here. Neither are the tradi-
tions without a deluge, which Ta-whaki caused by stamping on
the floor of the heaven until it cracked, when torrents of water
flowed down and covered the earth. When he died, the

* I.e. tabu, or taboo, as we commonly spell it, signifying the
setting of something apart from human contact, itvesting it with
an inviolate or sacred character. We have given the word another
meaning, applying it to forbidden subjects, as " tabooing " a
conversation.

green parrots took some of his blood and stained their
feathers with it, hence the red colour of those birds to this
day. Parallels and resemblances are not evidence of
borrowings ; the same explanations of like ])henomena are
often given by races at corresponding levels of culture.
But, in the cases before us, we know how probable it is that
alien elements have been assimilated, or that they have
become confused with indigenous elements in the minds of
chiefs who, as Mr. White remarks, " would have given the
whole Maori hi.story," both true and legendary, " but,
unfortunately for us, these men were born too late ; that is,
their education began after the Whare-Kura and its rites
had been neglected."

The lament or incantation which heads each chapter
evidences not only the grace and fulness of the Maori
language as a vehicle of poetic feeling, but also the truly
astounding aptitude of the Maori mind for abstract thought.
Remembering that the idea of a Supreme Being did not
exist among the tribes, we, however, need very satisfactory
proof that the subtle speculations embodied in the theory
of Aeons, beginning with the age of thought and ending
with the age of gods and men, and that such definitions as
those which are given in this volume, e.g. of Tua as mean-
ing " Behind all matter," and " Behind that which is most
distant," are the genuine equivalents of Maori thought, and
not the unconscious gloss of philosophic interpreters. How
easy it is to make a serious mistake in the New Zealand
tongue the following story, which is cited from Mr. Buller's
work, shows : —

I knew a missionary who, in the early days, had a lesson in
Maori in not the most pleasant way. It was expedient to give an
occasional present to the chiefs in order to secure their good offices,
for the lives of missionaries and their families hung upon their
caprice. One day the said missionarj' was giving a small three-
legged iron pot to an old chieftain, who, instead of being pleased
with it, flew into a great rage, much to the surprise, and somewhat
to the terror, of the donor. The cause of this was, he had said,
" Mou tenei," whereas he ought to have said, " ilau tenei." Both
phrases have, in English, the same meaning, " This is for you ; "
but, in M.iori, there was an important distinction. By the latter
form he would have been understood to say, " This is an iron pot
for you to do with as you please;" but, by the unfortunate, but
ignorant use of the other form, he was heard to say — what he never
Intended to say — " This is an iron pot for you 1o he cookfd in."
Hence the fury of the insulted chief.

ROYAL VICTORIA HALL.

{To the Editor o/ Knowledge.)

LECTRIC BELLS " formed the subject of
a very interesting lecture given at this
hall on Tuesday last by Prof Sylvanus
Thompson, who, instead of travelling
hurriedly over a large space of ground,
confined himself to explaining thoroughly
and clearly this small department of
electric science.

Ringing one of the many hells displayed on the stage, he
inquired where the power was to be found which rang the
bell 1 Imagine an intelligent savage investigating one of
our common house-bells, with a crank to convert a per-
pendicular into a horizontal pull, tracing back the wires till
he found the man at the other end pulling them. In like
manner we must trace out the less obvious force at work
in the ringing of an electric bell. It is no case of pulling,
for the wires hang slack. We find one of the wires is con-
nected with two bobbins of coiled wire, which, when the bell
is ringing, constantly pull and let go a jiiece of iron connected
with the clapper of the bell. The other wire is connected
with thLs piece of iron, passes thence to an electric battery,

Apkil 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOAVLEDGE ♦

137

and on to the button whicli we pi-ess when we want to
ring the bell. By pressing the button we make metallic
communication between the free ends of the wires, so
that a current can pass from the battery along them ;
and this current acts on something contained in the wire
bobbins. That something is a core of soft iron, which,
while the current passes along the wire which surrounds it,
becomes strongh' magnetic, and attracts the iron keeper
connected with the clapper. But, by a very ingenious con-
trivance, at the moment the iron is attracted the metallic
connection is broken and the current ceases. The iron coio
thereupon ceases to attract the keeper, and the current is
re-established, a jerk being given to the clapper each time
this happens.

A number of experiments were shown, illustrating both
permanent and induced magnetism ; and a variety of forms
of electric bell were exhibited, from very sweet-toned
church bells of a small size to a contrivance intended to
wake up servants, which, when once the button is pushed,
goes on ringing inces:?antly till the tormented servant goes
to the bell and pulls a handle. Dr. Thompson then went on
to inquire where the power comes from to produce these
results, for we can never have results without a cause.
There is no such thing as " perpetual motion." Wherever
we have power, something must be spent to produce it.
Here, it is clear, the power starts from the battery. "What
is used up there ^ In ordinary steam-engines we burn coal ;
in a gun the fuel is gunpowder ; in a battery it is zinc.
Zinc is combustible in air, though not freely so, and in a
battery it is burnt in acid, the combustion going on while
the current passes and the bell rings, but at no other time.

There are methods of obtaining a current without a
battery ; for instance, by turning a handle, and causing a
coil of wire to rotate in presence of a permanent magnet.
But the same principle holds with all. Something is used
up to obtain the power ; in this case the man who turns the
handle plays the part of engine, and the food which he has
eaten is consumed to do the work.

Dr. Thompson, in the course of his lecture, spoke of the
large extent to which electric power is used in Xew England,
as many as 200 shops in one town being supplied with it,
from wires laid under the streets, as our gaspipes are laid.
But for vested interests, he said, the same thing might be
done in London, and power supplied to workshops with
much economy both of sp.ace and money.

The lectures announced after Easter are — April 10, Dr.
W. H. Halliburton, " Digestion, including Some Account
of Plants that Eat Meat;" April 17, Professor George
Henslow, " Movements of Plants ; " April 21, Mr. W. P.
Bloxam, " Soap-making."

C. A. Martixeau.

1 Clifton Place, Sussex Square, W.C.

(8 0 £SS(tp.

By Eichard A. Peoctor.

I DEEM it desirable to inform the readers of Knowledge
that the delay in the issue of Part I. of my " Old and New
Astronomy " has occurred through no fault of mine — naj',
it has in reality been caused by a circumstance which should
indicate the zeal with which I am striving to make this
work (presenting the product of a quarter of a century's
labour) as complete as possible.

* * *

Finding there was time, I asked Messrs. Spottiswoode to
send me yet another revise, after the part had been already
thrice revised by myself, and once by my fiiend Captain

Noble. I thought no harm could come, and some slight
good might come from my reading it yet another time. Un-
luckUy Messrs. Longmans, hearing from the printers that a
last revise had yet to be sent out, supposed there w£s some
risk of the issue of Part II. being delayed, and very
prudently (on that — mistaken — view of the case) ordered
the postponement of the issue of Part I., lest there should
be any breach of continuity in the issue of parts.
■If ^ *
The original delay (from January 1 to March 1) was not
my doing, but as I was disabled for two months by a serious
accident the delay occurred ha])pily, for I think the issue
must have been interrupted had Part I. appeared on
January 1.

* * *

The New York papers of February 21 announce the
death of a man named Romayne Dillon, who, though an
utterly worthless ruffian considered in himself, aflbrded an
interesting illustration of the inelHciency of American justice,
where such trifling offences as murder and brutal assault are
concerned — that murderous form of justice called lynch-law
being the pleasing product of this inefficiency of normal
justice. As I have for twelve years or so regarded this man
as one who had had his pistol ready for myself— all un-
knowing of his cheerful purpose — 1 take some personal
interest in his case.

DuRiXG the last fortnight of December 1875, I was a
guest (most of the time) at the Westminster Hotel, Union
Square, New York, my customary stopping- place when in
that city. I used often to pace xip and down the ground-
floor corridors, where, as I supposed, no guests had rooms,
finding a sense of relief in this peripatetic habit from the
monotony and solitude of hotel life in America for those of
domestic tastes and proclivities. I noticed occasion.all}', but
did not note, a kind of subdued growling (like old Bill Barley
" in the beam ") as I passed a particular door. I had no
idea that this gi'owling was in reality exceedingly por-
tentous, and, as I have every reason to think, personally
thi-eatening.

* * *

On the evening of December 31, when I was in the read-
ing room, I heard a report which, in my inexperience, I
regarded as due to the fall of some metallic substance on
the marble pavement of "my" corridor. But other readers,
" being acquainted with the [sound] before," knew it meant
shooting, and in a second or two every reader was in the
corridor. Here we found an unfortunate fellow — John
Dilliber, his name was — sitting against the wall supported
by one of the waiters. He had been shot, but the man who
had shot him had gone back to his room.

* * *

Dilliber made the following statement while he was
waiting for the elevator : " I don't know why the man shot
me. He came out in his shirt-sleeves while I was walking
up and down the corri<lor, and asked what the devil I was
prowling about there for. I told him I had as much right
as any other guest to walk there ; on which he whipped
out a pistol and shot me."

So soon as Dilliber had been put into the elevator and
carried up to his floor, we went round to his assailant's
room. We found the man, Romayne Dillon, who had shot
and mortally wounded an inotlensive stranger, in the hands
of two men, waiting to be handed over to the police. He
simply gave as his rea.son for shooting Dilliber, that " the
fellow had been prowling round his door for days " — though,'
; as a matter of fact, Dilliber had arrived only the day before.

138

KNOVT'LEDGE

[April 2, 1888.

On the ti'ial claim was made that Dillon was a mono-
maniac, with the idea that enemies were constantly spying
upon him. But it was pretty generally known that his
monomania was simply a brutal and ferocious temper,
which had already brought him into trouble for murderous
assaults. He was no more mad than the .judge who tried
him.

However, he found his way, as other sane but murderous
ruflSans have done in America before and since, into a
lunatic asylum instead of tlie appropriate halter, and, like
othei's of his kind, having money to back pretended mad-
ness, he found his way out again. When I returned to
America in 1879 he had already been more than two years
at large, and he was then, though an escaped criminal
lunatic, living comfortably and openly at the Fifth Avenue
Hotel. He remained free during the rest of his life to kill
anyone else who might annoy him ; and he did not die a
natural death (for a murderer), but in his bed, towards the
end of February last.

Another ruffian of a characteristic kind died a week or
two before the murderer Dillon. I was introduced a year
ago to a young Englishman (a Marlborough boy he had
been) who wore an eye-sbade ; and I presently learned that
the evening before a " big old brute " — a man weighing
some 15 stone — had forced a quarrel on the slight and
rather small young Englishman (all these rowdies are
cowards at heart), receiving a straight-hander between the
eyes which "propped " him for the moment ; but going in
for the clutching, rough-and-tumble business, in which,
thank God, our Englishmen are not often proficient — and
only failing in his attempt to gouge an eye out because
hauled off by two other P]nglith 3'oung men who were there.
I saw the brute next day at the railway-station, and
wondered that he had been let live so long in a country
where, if brutal outrages are too frequent, irregular justice
is also too frequently inflicted.

* * *

This ruffian, unlike Dillon, died a natui'al death, being
shot in a qu.arrel. Unfortunately the man who shot him
who was as cowardly a ruffian as himself (but chanced to be
a trifle quicker " on the draw "), did not also get his quietus.
It often happens that the community has to rejoice in the
simultaneous e.xtinction of two ruffians of this kind : and
" oh 1 'tis the sport to see" the murderer killed by his
murderous mate. However, it did not happen so — more's
the pity 1 — on this occasion.

* * *

The English reader must not imagine that life is unsafe
in America for those who avoid the spots where ruffians
most do congregate. Dillon's villainous temper might bs
met with in England or on the Continent as frequently as
in America ; and in bis case it was only the esciipe of the
criminal which was characteristic of American ways.
Ruffians of the other type are only dangerous for those
who either go out of their way to enter low drinking-shops
and gambling dens, or for those who enter too retulily into
discussion with low-looking brutes in more respectable bars.

American newspapers give unfjxir ideas of American ways
in this respect : for they not only exaggerate the brutal
ruffianism of the rowdy, but they picture .all their leading
men in turn (Democrats in Republican and Republicans in
Democrat papers) as swindlers, villains, or otherwise of
evil life.

* * *

I HAD a curious illustration of American editorial ways
recently. I had had occasion in the San Francisco
Examiner to point out that a certain American " professor "
is a fraud and a humbug. I gave documentary evidence of
falsehood and malice anonymously perpetrated, apologised for
by further falsehood (still anonymous) when corrected, and
brought home to the real offender a year or two later by
unmistakable evidence. This man had obtained high posi-
tion in the chief national observatory of the United States,
where he had " discovered " an impossible third satellite of
Mars, and had been otherwise seriously discredited, but
whence — unfortunately for science — he has passed to the
chief command of a private observatory still more important
on account of the telescopic power it will command.

* * *

I HAD occasion to point out that an honorary distinction
conferred by the Royal Astronomical Society on this
" scientistic adventurer" was really conferred on him only
because he was " taken on trust " on the strength of official
position unwisely given him, not for anything he had done,
since he has, in fact, done practically nothing. I further
went on to express my belief that had I chosen to communi-
cate to members of the Astronomical Society's Council (at
that time) the particulars of this " professor's " personal
wrong-doing, his name would have been rejected with
contempt.

So far so good. My letters were duly inserted, and,
though the " professor " repeated his untruths (with ample
opportunity of assuring himself, had he ever doubted it,
that they wsre untruths) he was silent in the presence of my
final evidence, .and manifestly regretted that he had drj,wn
me from the silence, contemptuous though it was, which I
had long maintained.

But a monthly magazine of science — the Sidereal
Messenger — chanced, unfortunately for him, to mention the
thonging which it had been my unpleasant duty to inflict,
and the " professor," believing, doubtless, that I should not
be apt to see this magazine, for, though excellent, it is pub-
lished in a rather out-of-the-way place (Northfield, Minne-
sota), repeated his untruths there. I saw them, however,
and met them as before, repeating my remark about the
fellow's election to honoraiy distinction in a society which is
honourable as well as scientific. But I omitted to say, as I
had in the Examiner (which I supposed the editor had seen),
that it was by silence only that I had helped the " pro-
fessor's " election. It should have been unnecessary, in any
case, to explain that I had not helped by any positive assist-
ance the election of a man whom I had already described as
quite unworthy of the distinction conferred upon him.

* * *

The " professor " craftily took ad vantage of this omission,
quoted the sentence (without the context) in an appeal to
certain members of the Council of the Astronomical Society
to contradict it, and obtained fiom two of them (personally
unknown to me), Messrs. Knobel and Maunder, the mani-
festly correct statement that I had never assisted his elec-
tion by any overt act — and could not have done so, not
being on the council at the time. (I resigned in 1873, and
have never of my own will allowed my name to be on the
council lists since.) The editor of the Sidereal J[essen//er,
having presumably forgotten what I implied in my letters
to him, and said totidem verbis in my letters to the San
Francisco Examiner, inserts Mr. Knobel's letter, and quotes
Mr. Maunders — as if these letters had any bearing what-
ever on my real statement.

* * *

April 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE *

139

In the meantime — it is this which seems characteristic of
American journalistic notions — it seems never to occur to
the editor either of the Silereal Messenger or of the San
Francisco Examiner, that a body of honourable gentlemen
can be as certainly expected not to elect to any honorary
distinction a man proved guilty of falsehood, chicanery, and
malice, as (on the other hand) an average body of American
politicians would be to elect any scoundrel who could in
adequate degree make it worth their while. The editor of
the Sidereal Mcssew/er actually asks me — an Englishman — •
how I could feel certain that the Council of the Astrono-
mical Society would reject a man with contempt who had
been convicted of unworthy conduct 1

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT obligingly sends the following in re-
gard to the question raised in Gossip for February : —

If it interests your readers, or your " polite " correspondent, —
Logan Mitchell, in bis " Mythology Revealed," published by
Triibner, sa)s, page 72: — "'The Egyptians,' says Plutarch, 'in-
serted nothing into their worship without a reason, nothing merely
fabulous, nothing superstitious, as many suppose ; but their insti-
tutions have either a reference to morals or to something useful in
life, and many of them bear a beautiful resemblance of some
appearance in nature.' Chairemou, the Egyptian philosopher,
says : — ' What is said of Osiris and Isis and all the sacred fables
may be resolved into the stars, their occuliations and risings, into
the course of the sun through the zodiac or the nocturnal and
diurnal hemispheres.' Porphyry corroborates the above thus : —
' The learned Egyptians admit cf no other gods except what are
called the planets, the gods which give completion to the zodiao, and
such as rise together with these, and likewise the sections of the
zodiac into decans."

" According to Eratosthenes, the celestial Virgin was supposed to
be Isis, that is, the symbol of the returning year. It was in honour
of this goddess that the Egyptians celebrated the famous festival of
light, which was imitated by the Christians in their feast of
Candlemas. From the Egyptians the Romans took their solar
festivals, in honour of the birth of the god of light (the sun), cele-
brated on December 2.5, at which time, says Servius, the sun may,
properly speaking, be said to be new, or have a new birth. Hence
the Christmas of the Christians, which had also been, previously, a
Druidical festival in honour of the solar god's birth ; hence the
evergreen emblems— the holly, the mistletoe. &o., all sacred among
the Druids thousands of yeai's before Christ."

lb., page 86. '"The 'star in the cast' (a sign containing more
than a hundred stars), mentioned in Matthew, was no other than this
zodiacal sign of the celestial virgin, which arose on the eastern
horizon precisely at the time at which we fix the birth of Jesus
Christ — viz., December 2.5, when the sun had risen one degree above
the solstitial point,* which answers to a moment to the births of the
Egyptian Osiris, the Grecian Bacchus, and the Mithra of the
Persians. These mystic births are manifestly identical, being
metaphorical of the sun's annual birth at the winter solstice, after
which he gradually becomes, not only figuratively, but positively
the Saviour of the world. The resemblance, or rather the sameness,
of every circumstance relating to Mithras, the Mediator of the
Persians, and those connected with the Saviour, or Mediator of the
Christians, is so apparent th.at no rational man can doubt, or
hesitate a moment, in pronouncing the latter to be a counterpart of
the former.

"Zoroaster taught the Magi that this celestial birth would be
announced by the rising of this star, or constellation of the Virgo,
in the middle of which would appear the figure of a young woman,
suckling an infant child, called Jesus by some nations, and Clirist
or Christos in Greek. This was the goddess of the year nursing the
god of day."

* * *

Mr. FR.iNfis Ham sends me a long letter about whisti
maintaining his position that scientific whist is no more
efliective than " bttmWc-puppy." I have no space for
letters about scientific whist from a writer who professes to
know nothing about it. If he will not believe my assur-

* This is of course quite wrong. On December 2.5 now the sun
has not risen more than 3 or 4 min. above his solstitial elevation.
But December 25 may have been the very day of the solstice in old
times.

ances (as one who knows) that scientific whist is an entirely
different game from what he knows as whist, I cannot help
it. All I can do is to repeat my statement. I will not
strive to show why scientific whist, played by two partners
who understand its principles, is invariably successful (in
every spell of play long enough to eliminate the effects of
chance). The case is so, to my knowledge ; and, were it
otherwise, scientific whist is a game worth playing, an
admirable recreation for the tired worker. The game Mr.
Ham supposes to be whist is not worth sitting down to.
" Double dummy " is a finer game in the scientific sense
than the best whist played by four. But it is too difficult
to be called recreation.

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT asks me about my treatment of the
function sin-'x in my little book, " Easy Lessons in the
Diflerential Calculus," under the impression that sin-'x is
the same as (sin x)-'. This is not the case, though sin -x
is the same as (sin x)'^. It has been agreed that sin-'x
shall represent " the angle whose sine is x."

The same correspondent calls my attention, however, to
a real, though easily detected erratum. Near the top of
page 34 in that little book sin-'x appears instead of sin x.

TiiE chess editor of the Australasian calls attention to
the fact that in an article on the " Wonders of Blindfold
Chess," I not only make mistakes about Paul Morphy's
career, but have an illustration representing a chess player
blindfolded and feeling for the men. The Australasian is
good enough to express its belief that I am not responsible
for this particular absurdity (I should hope not), but in a
tone implying that I might be guilty of absurdities as great
and greater. Considering that I have played blindfold
chess, and have written about my experience in that sort of
play, it is rather too patent a bit of spite to write thus of
me. This was the sort of thing Mr. Go.'?sip used to do in
chess literature ; and one might almost imagine he had
lighted on the Melbourne chess-world — though, for Mel-
bourne's sake, it is to be hoped not. The chess editor of the
Australasian when I was in Melbourne was Mr. Wisker,
formerly the chess champion of England. I do not know
who has held the reins since his death. I fear there has
been a noteworthy falling-olf. As for the mistakes about
Paul INIorphy, most prolsably they are imagined. But in
any case they are not mine. They are made, in a sketch of
Morphy's chess tour in Europe, by a gentleman who accom-
panied him mo.st of the time.

A CORRESPONDENT asks " if any review has appeared in
Knowledge of Mr. Lockyer's meteoric theory ? " When we
hear of any meteoric theory advanced by Mr. Lockyer we
will gladly review it. At present we know only of a
meteoric theory suggested, advanced, and maintained by
others during the last quarter of a century which some one
in the Times has endeavoured (in a five-column article) to
hand over to Mr. Lockyer 1 The wicked say the author of
the article is Mr. Lockyer himself; but that seems too
wild a fcincy to be possible. In the Boyal Society, however,
the method of advancing the meteoric theory recently
adopted has been described, publicly, by an eminent
ph3sicist as an insult oflered to the society by Mr. Lockyer ;
and Mr. Lockyer himself has been sat upon, after the
manner of speaking, almost as severely as if he had really
written that Lockyer-adulating article I " 'Tis true 'tis
pity : pity 'tis 'tis true."

* * *

140

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Afril 2, 1888.

Biographies of Words and the IIom° of the Ari/as. By
r. Max Ml'ller. (Longmans.) — This book is, in the main,
a reprint of articles which have nppeared in Good Words,
its enlargement into a fairly-sized volume being effected by
long lists of common Aryan terms, and by a series of appen-
dices on the original home of jade, of the Soma, &c. Despite
the universally adver.se judgment of competent critics upon
the cardinal argument of the professor's unwieldy book on
the " Science of Thought," viz., that thought is impossible
without language, we find that argument restated in the
very beginning of the introductory chapter to the present
work. " Ephraim is joined to his idols ; let him alone."
Yet we must again tell the di.slinguished author that he is
confounding s3'mbol with substance, and process with pro-
duct, that language is not thought, any more than writing
is thought, but only the vehicle whereby it is made current.
Moreover, cannot the deaf and dumb think 1 How delightful
an expositor Professor Max Miiller can be, when we get
him away from his obstinate heresies, the following extract
shows :^

There are historical documents wliicli cannot be falsified, though
they may be often difficult to interpret — I mean tlie words ot a
language. If we wished to know, for instance, who has taught us
the game of chess, the name of chess would tell us better than any-
thing else that it cime to the West from Persia. In spite of all
that has been written to the contrary, chess was originally the game
of kings, the game of shahs. This word shah became in Old
French cschac; Italian sraccn, German Schach; while the Old
French eschics was further corrupted into chess. The more
original form ehec has likewise been preserved, though we little
think of it when we draw a cheque, or when we suffer a
check, or when we speak of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
The great object of the chess-player is to protect the king; and
when the king is in danger the opponent is obliged to say " check " —
i e. shah, the king ! In the book of the Duchesse, C5S, as quoted
by Professor Skeat, we read : " Therewith Fortune sej-de, ' chek
here ! ' and ' mate' in the myd point of the chehkerc" — i e. There-
upon Fortune said, "check here!" and "mate" in the middle of
the chessboard. After this the various meanings of check, cheque,
or exchequer become easily intelligible, though it is quite true that,
if similar changes of meaning, which in our case we can watch by
the light of history, had taken place in the dimness of prehistoric
ages, it would be difficult to convince the sceptic that cechcqner or
scaccaritim, the name of the chessboard, was afterwards used for
the checkered cloth on which accounts were calculated by means of
counters, and that a checkereil career was a life with many cross
lines, which might end with check mate; literally, "the king is
dead."

In the chapters on the home and earliest civilisation of the
Aryans Professor Max iliiller restates and groups the argu-
ments in support of an Asiatic origin, but this is a subject
on which, as Penka and others have shown, both the biologist
and the anthropologist will have to be taken into counsel,
and upon which, while suspending judgment, we watch the
balance incline towards the Northern Europe theory.

Social History of the Races of Mankind. Second Divi-
sion : Oceano-Melanesians. By A. Fe.\therjian. (Triibner
& Co.) — Mr. Featherman continues his laborious, and, we
fear, as yet slenderly appreciated, task of compiling from
all available sources materials for generalisation concerning
the social stages which mark the relative place of the
races of man. His present volume deals with some promi-
nent groups, notably those found in Madagascar and New
Zealand, concerning whom the information appears accurate
and up to date. Many interesting questions suggest them-
selves as we turn over these pages ; for example, what is
the past relation of people so widely sundered as Malagasy
and Maori to the great Mongoloid stock on the mainland 1
Perhaps when Mr. Featherman has finished his gigantic
task, he may indicate his general conclusions from the data

which his toil has gathered. We think that he has again
erred in printing prefatory matter which is not only dis-
cursive in character, but which has no relation to the body
of his work, and we say this not merely because, so far as
we are able to understand it, we disagree with his theory of
organic evolution, but because a prefivce should have con-
nection with that which is to follow it.

Sunlight. By the Author of " Th3 Interior of the
Eirth." (London : Triibner & Co. LS87.)— When an
author states in his prefaca thit " wa do not know that
the sun is hot," and that by '• light we get our expansion of
gases as evaporation ; on this follows the condensation and
fall of the liquid gases as they meet the colder air; then
follows the rarefaction of our air by cold pressure, getting rid
of all earthy pacticles till the ujiper air meets the impalpable
cold ether of space without friction " ; when, moreover, this
author quotes '• Nature and ths Bible," by a Mr. .las. Davis,
as any authority whatever on a scientific subject; ex-
plains (?) gravitation by the action of light, and regards
meteoritss as " eirthy atoms separate! from the air by cold
pressure and by vegetation," we feel that seriously to
criticise such hopeless rubbish would bs an insult to our
readers' understanding. The writer of this stuff falls foul
of Mr. Kinns on p. 144 ; but as we cannot discover that he
has yet quanelled with the author of " The Mystery of
Gravity " (of which a notice appeared on p. 2. 30 of our last
volume), we would suggest that he should seek an introduc-
tion to that gentleman. Whether he would get much light
from Mr. Eraser's heat, or whether, as seems more probable,
his light would develop considerable heat in his rival
physicist, remains to be seen.

An Introductory Text-hook of Zoology. By II. Alleyne
Nicholson, M.D., &c. 6th Edition. (Edinburgh and
London: William Blackwood & Sons. 1887.) — It may
seem almost an act of supererogation to criticise a work
which has run into its sixth edition, but for the fact that
in the volume now before us Dr. Nicholson has made
certain changes in his arrangement of particular groups, and
has added notably to the illustrations which appeared in his
book in its original form. Whether for the use of schools
or for self-instruction, it would not be e.isy to find an
elementary work on systematic zoology to surpass the one
before us.

Recollections of Forty Yeaj-s. By Ferdinand de Lesseps.
Translated by C. B. PrrJiAN. (London: Chapman and
Hall. 1887.) — From its title-page to the colophon this work
of M. de Lesseps is essentially of the French, Frenchy.
He is perpetually paraphrasing the familiar line in the poem
of Jack Horner, in which that hero " said what a good boy
am I ; " and poses on almost every page as one of the most
daring, indefatigable, and withal, successful men of genius
ever produced by the most daring, indefatigable, and success-
ful nation that the world has yet known. But despite this
exhibition of almost more than womanly conceit, he has
produced a work no small portion of which must possess an
abiding interest for all Englishmen, telling us as it does the
history of the Suez Canal, and of its ultimate triumph over
the blind and ignorant opposition of Lord Palmerston and
the British Government. Of Lord Palmerston himself M.
de Lesseps says, in describing an interview which they had
on the subject of the Canal, " I coidd not help asking myself
now and again whether I was in the presence of a maniac
or a statesman ;" words which acquire peculiar force in view
of Lord Beaconsfield's subsequent acqtiisition of so large a
share in the enterprise whose feasil)ility his predecessor
simply refused even to discuss. But, having said this, we
fail to follow the argument of the translator of M. de Lesseps
in his preface, where he, in effect, contends that because

ApftiL 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

141

Lord Palmerston was utterly wrong in the matter of the
Suez C'anal, therefore M. de Lesseps must, ex necessitate,
be right in his views as to the practicabiUty of the Panama
one and of the Channel Tunnel. Wo may well render all
honour to the man through whose energy and perseverance
so easy and admirable a highway to our own Indian Empire
has been opened, without regarding him as infallible. One
section of the work (which takes the form of a curiously
loose and inconsequent series of chapters, partly autobio-
graphical) has reference to the inception of the Panama
Canal, and the glorification of all, and notably of tho French-
men, engaged in it. The opening portion of volume i. is
devoted to a kind of narrative, mainly documentiry, of its
author's early diplomatic experiences. His account of the
scandalous and treacherous assault of the French army upon
Rome in 18-19 is peculiarly instructive, as showing that la
grande nation can be guilty of conduct at least as mean, con-
temptible, and cowardly as that of any of the countries at
who.se e.xpense he is always so e.ager to exalt her. The
miscellaneous chapters of M. de Lessepa call but for little
notice. Essays on Algeria and Tunis and on Abyssinia
read like extracts from guide-books, while one on steam
seems written to show that to Frenchmen alone are we
indebted for its application to machinery and locomotion —
a contention which can only excite ridicvilc and derision in
all familiar with the true history of the subject. A chapter
on the origin and duties of consuls is the merest '•' padding."
The speech of M. de Lesseps himself and that of M. Renin
on the occasion of the admission of the former to the French
Academy in 1885 (in which "the butter-boat" was ]iassed
in a manner worthy of the concluding meeting of the British
Association itself) finish a work which, mahjre the childish
vanity it betrays, forms a real addition to the liistory of tho
pre.sent century. We began by speikiug of its essentially
French character. Perhaps no better illustration of this
could be found than that of its author's delicate excuse for
the lady he calls "Madame Potiphar" (the heroine of
Genesis xxxix.) on p. 222.

Tlic Dictionary of National BiograjiJii/. Vol. XIII.
Craik-Damer. (Smith, Elder, it Co.) — The publication of
this magnificent work is now being accelerated, and wo
may hope to witness its completion within .a few years.
We are not surprised to find that its spirited publishers
have been compelled to make a moderate increase in the
price ; even with this, we fear that their enterprise will
have to wait for substantial reward. They are undertaking
a task worthy of State subvention, only that subventions
are as miasmas upon individual energy.

Afancfjemeiit of Accumulators. By Sir D.wid Salomons,
Bart., M.A., &e. (Lmdon : Whittaker A- Co. 18S8-)—
Most people have heard of the perfect electric light instal-
lation at Broomhill, Sir David S.ilomons's seat, near Tun-
bridge Wells, and will hence recognise his authority to speak
ex calhedrd upon the subject. His practical experience
has enabled him to produce a work of real value to those
who may be about to introduce electric lighting into their
own establishments. His per.spicuity of treatment, plain-
ness of Language, and abundance of illustration will com-
mend themselves to all .seaking aid in their incipient elTorts
in home lighting by electricity.

A Critique of Kant. By Ku\o Fischer. Tran.slated
from the German by W. S. Hough. (London : Swan
Sonnenschein, Lowrey, cfeCo. 1888.) — For more than 2. -500
years the metaphysic.il minJ, disdaining that verification
which lies at the very foundation of scientific method, has
beaten the air in vain. Foremost among the self-deceived
may be classed the immortal Kant, whose speculations have
exercised so preponderating an influence on sub.sequent

German thought. To all who may be interested in watching
the process bj' which a mighty intellect could juggle with
words in an a'tempt to arrive at "the thing ai it is"
{Ding an sick) we would commend the perusal of Mr.
Hough's admirable rendering of Fischer's familiar work.
The intelligent reader, approaching the subject from the
scientific standpoint, will not be long in detecting how and
where Kant's exposition of the connection between the
noumena he postulates, and the perception of the pheno.
mena he seeks to explain by thjm, is fallaciou->. No more
instructive example of the emptinesi of metaphysicil
siJeculation could well be found.

Insect Wai/s on Summer Days. By Jen.mett Humphreys.
(London : Blackie &, Son. 1888). — Flower-Land. By
Robert Fisher, M.A. (London and Manchester: John
Hc3'wood. 1SS7). — We have classed these two books
together as affording, each in its way, an excellent introduc-
tion to natural history for children. Miss Humphreys
makes each insect tell its own story, and has devised a
system of inemoria technica of the generic and specific
names of those so described in the shape of nonsense verses.
As for Mr. Fisher's book, no child resident in the country,
or who ever has the chance of spending twenty-four hours
among heath, field, wood, or hedgerow, ought to be without
it. It is a very long time since so admirable a little book
for the ver}^ beginner in botany has appeared.

Dottinjs of a Dosssr : Revelalioni of t/i; Innv Life oj
Low London Ijodging - liousjs, by Howard J. Goldsmid
(T. Fisher XJnwin, 20 Paternoster Square), is a little book
calculated to be of tho greatest possible value in attracting
the eye of the public to the wrongs of an unfortunate class,
which has hitherto been neglected by phil.inthropists. Tho
dosser is a person too poor to afi'ord a settled habitation,
who, when he oi' she can scrape together tho necessarj^ four-
pence, hires with it a bad for the night in .some low lodging-
house, and, when the money is not forthcoming, promenades
the streets all night, or finds a resting-place on a seat on
the embankment or on a doorstop, if the policeman on the
beat will permit it. The doiser is below the class of jnc-
turesque poor for whom so much has been done of late ; ho
would need a bath and a new suit before ho could enter tli!
" People's Palace " at the East End i ho and his rags and
his dirt have been hitherto beyond the pale of fashionable
benevolence. INIr. (Juldsmid writes boldly of the wretched
squalor into which these jioor unfortunates ai'e thrust by
the inefEciency of the law respecting common lodging-
hous.'s. The quotation on his title-pige is from the Common
Lodging-houses Act of 1851 : '• Wiiereas it would tend
greatly to the comfort and welfare of many of Her Majesty's
poorer subjects if provision were made for the well orderino
OF COMMON LODGING HOUSES," but his wholo experienc3 shows
that no such jirovision has been made. With an admirable
courage Mr. Goldsmid has obtained person.al evidence of
the state of affairs by himself becoming an inmate of a
large number of these houses, which may fairly be taken as
■samples of the rest. He has found them in a rickety ami
broken-down condition, with improper sanitary arrange-
ments; the kitchens, in which the lodgers sit and
cook their .saxnty meals, filthy in the extreme ; tho
bedrooms still more loathsome, invariably overcrowded,
and the beds full of vermin. In some rooms, which
can hardl}' accommodate thrca parsons, the law p^rmits
eight to be huddled. Yet these places are periodically
inspected, and " we must suppose, therefore, thac it is per-
missible for the proprietors of the ' doss house ' to half
poison their lodgers, and compel them to inhale an atmo-
sphere which would be regarded as intolerable at any well-
regulated sewage wharf." In almost all these houses men
and women are herded together without any regard to

U2

KNO^WLEDGE ♦

[April 2, 1888.

morality or even decency, and numbers of poor children
grow up in the midst of surroundings which will surely
bring them to join the crowded ranks of the criminal
classes. The School Board does not reach these children,
and a lodger in one of the houses told Mr. Goldsniid that
there was not a School Board officer in the metropolis who
would "dare to show 'is ugly mug 'ere." The police
inspectors whose duty it is to regulate these houses, visit
them only during the daytime, when the lodgers have
departed, order has been to a certain extent restored, and
the fearful odours of the night have gone off; hence they
gain no adequate ideas of the real state of afldiirs, and legis-
late for what they do not understand. Mr. Goldsmid
holds that the administration of the Lodging-houses' Act
should be taken out of the hands of the Commissioners of
Police, and that a company should be formed to supply
clean and decent accommodation for poor lodgers. He
suggests that blocks of the artisans' model dwellings,
now being erected in all parts of London, should be
arranged so that the rent could be paid nightly instead of
weekly, that bithing conveniences should be provided, and
that plain, wholesome food should be sold ready cooked on the
premises at similar prices to those charged in coflee-houses.
He believes that such a company should pay a dividend of
10 to 12 per cent., even if giving the best value for the
money. The present common lodgingdiouse keepers, he
calculates, make about 125 per cent, profit, wrung from
their poorer brethren, whom they keep in a horrible condi-
tion of filth, squalor, and degradation. Wo consider Mr.
Goldsmid's suggestion a wise one, and recommend it to
practical philanthropists. " Dottings of a Dosser " should
be very widely circulated.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR APRIL.

By F.R.A.S.

HE sun may be watched for the infrequent and
insignificant spots whicli appear on his surface.
The zodiacal light may still be seen in the west
after sunset at the beginning o£ the month. Tlie
aspect of the night fky is sliown on map iv. of
"The Stars in tlieir Seasons." Minima of Algol
(" The Stars in their Seasons," map xii.) will
occur 1.5 minutes after midnight on the 15th,
and at 9h. im. P.M. on the 18th, all other minima
happening in daylight during April. Mercury is a morning star
throughout the month, but rises such a little while before the sun
that he is but indifferently placed for the observer — a remark
which, )iiultitis mntandis, appHes equally to Venus. Mars will be in
opposition to the sun on the Gth, and but for the fact that
he has South Declination, would be well placed for observation.
As at this time his disc subtends an angle of some 18", a consider-
able amount of areographical detail may be made out with com-
paratively moderate optical means. He is situated to the north-cast
of Spisa Viiginis ("The Stars in their Seasons," map v.) Jupiter
does not soutli until the early morning, but towards the end of
April may be seen before midnight, though he is too close to the
horizon to be at all fairly observable. Moreover, his South Declina-
tion is so considerable that even when on the meridian liis altitude is
too small to admit of the employment of a high power in viewing
him. By the end of April his angular equatorial diameter will
amount to 41-5". He is travelling from the south-west corner of
Ophiuchus towards ^ Scorpii ("The Stars in their Seasons,"
map vii). As scarcely any certainl}' observable phenomena of his
satellites will occur before midnight, we need not occupy space
with them here. Saturn is travelling rapidly towards the west,
and must be looked at as soon as ever it is dark enough. It will
be noted that his rings have closed up to an extent such that his
north pole is now visible. He is moving towards •>) Cancri and the
Prsesepe ("The Stars in their Seasons," map iii.). Uranus will
come into opposition to the sun on the 4th, .so that he is now in a
fairly good position for the observer. He will be found about tliree
diameters of the moon to the west of B Virgiuis ("The Stars in
their Seasons," map v.), and may be at once distinguished from the
surrounding stars by his bluisli unmistakable planetary disc,

when viewed with adequate power. Neptune has disappeared for
the season. The moon enters her last quarter at 4r3m. past
noon on the 3rd, and is new at 9h. 7'7m. o'clock in the morning
on the 11th. She enters lier first quarter 7'8m. before noon
on the 19th, and is full at Oh. 221m. A.M. on the 26th. High
tides may be expected about the last-named date. Three occultations
only of fixed stars by the moon will occur at convenient hours
during the present montli. The first will hai^peu on April 16, when
X'- Orionis, a star of the Cth magnitude, will disappear at the moon's
dark limb at 9h. 27m. P.M., at an angle from her vertex of 139°.
It will reappear at her bright limb at lOh. 2Gm. p.m., at an angle
of 300° from her vertex. Then on the 19th, 9 Cancri, of the 6th
magnitude, will disappear at tlie dark limb of the moon at 7h. 34m.
P-M., at an angle from her vertex of 70°; reappearing at her bright
limb at 8h. 45m. P.M , at a vertical an,gle of 308°. Lastly, on the
22nd, B.A.C. 3837 (also a 6th magnitude star) will disajjpear at the
dark limb at 6h. Um. P.M., at an angle of 90° from the moon's
vertex. The star will reappear at the bright limb of the moon
at 7h. 32ra. P.M., at an angle from her vertex of 173°. At noon
to-day the moon is in Ophiuchus, through which she is travelling
until 8h. A.M. on the 2nd, at which hour she passes into Sa.gittarius.
Slie leaves S.agittarius for Capricornus (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxi.) at 3h. P.M. on the 4th, and Capricornus in turn
for Aquarius at 4h. P.M. on the 6th. Her journey across
Aquarius is completed by 9h. P.M. on the 8th, when she enters
Pisces ('• The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). It is llh.
P.M. on the 11th when, in her passage over this great
straggling constellation she reaches the northerly prolongation of
Cetus, and an hour or two afterwards she has crossed it and
emerged in Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). By
7h. 30m. P.M. on the 13th she has traversed the constellation
last named and passed into Taurus. As she travels through Taurus
she arrives ,at 7h. P.M. on the 16th on the western edge of the
nortliernmost portion of Orion. E.xactly twelve hours later (i.e. at
7h. A.M. on the 17th), she crosses its eastern boundary and emerges
in Gemini. Here she remains until 4h. A.M. on the 19th, when she
crosses into Cancer (" Tlie Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She is
in Cancer until 6h. P.M. on the 20th, when she enters Leo. Her
passage through Leo termin.ites at 7h. A.M. on the 23rd, at which
hour she quits it for Virgo ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.).
At 3h. 30m. A.M. on the 26ch, her journey over the constellation last
n.amed finishes, and she passes into Libra (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxvi.). As she travels tlirough Libra, she arrives at 8h. P.M.
on the 27th at the western boundary of the narrow northern spike
of Scorpio, and when she has crossed this by 4 o'clock the next
morning, it is to come out in Ophiuchus. She remains in Ophiu-
chus until 3h. P.M. on the 29th, when, for the second time this
month, she enters Sagittarius. There we leave her.

By "Five of Clubs."

MATHEWS ON WHIST.

The Tenaoe.
{Continued from page 96.)
Hg^^^^HOUGH "tenace," or tlie advantage of position,*
1"""'"^'^ ; cannot be reduced to a certainty, as at piquet, and
it is often necessary to relinquish it for more cer-
tain advantages; stil), no man can be a whist-
player who does not fully understand it. The
principle is simple, but the combinations are
various.

If A has ace, queen, and a small card of a
suit, of which li has king, knave, and another ; if
A leads the small card, he letains tenace, and wins two tricks;
whereas, if he plays the ace, he gives it up and makes but one. But
if B is to lead, he has no tenace ; and lead which card he will, he

* The word " tenace " has no connection, as many imagine, with the
cards ten and ace in a suit, though it very often happens that the major
tenace is actually constituted of these two cards. The word is a
substautival form of the French adjective "tenace," tenacious,
AoWi»r/, and implies the "hold "which the tenace gives over the
suit. "Major tenace," or the first and third cards, gives the
stronger hold ; but minor tenace gives a good hold too, in each case,
though only if the holder of either tenace is led up to — when, with
major tenace, two tricks are made, the second best card being held
safe, while w-ith minor tenace, one trick is made, the third best
card being held safe, wherever it may lie. The second best guarded,
if led up to, is as good as the minor tenace.

April 2, 188S.]

KNOV/LEDGE

143

mail make one trick, and can make no more. The study of this
easy instance, well considered, will enable the player, with some
practice, to adapt it to more apparently intricate situations. The
following case?, which happen frequently, will further explain the
principles of the tenace: — Y is left with four cards and the lead,
viz., the second and fourth trump, and the ac3 and a small card of
a suit not played. Nine tramps are out. A, Y's left-hand adversary,
lias the first and third trump, king and a small one of the suit of
which Y leads the ace : what card should A play ? If A keeps his
king he cannot possibly win more than two tricks : he should,
therefore, play the king : for he thus brings it to an equal chance
whether he wins three tricks or two. By placing the cards you will
perceive, that if A's partner has a better card that Y's, Y cannot
make either of his trumps, which, had E retained the king, he must
have done.

Y has three cards of a suit not played (the last remaining) viz ,
king, queen, and ten ; A holds ace, knave, and another ; Y leads the
king ; if A wins it he gives up the tenace, and gets but one trick ;
whereas, if he does not, he makes his ace and knave by preserv-
ing it.

A has ace, knave, and ten of a suit which his partner leads. If
he puts on the ace, and his partner has no honour in the suit, he
gives up the tenace, and can only win one. He should, therefore,
play the ten (particularly if the lead is forced) ; for by this he pro-
bably wins two tricks.

It often happens that with only three cards remaining in his
hand, the leader has the worst trump, and ace, queen, or some
tenace of another suit. In this case he should lead the trump, to
put the lead into an adversary's hand. By these means he preserves
the tenace. This, though self-evident on proper consideration, is
what good players never think of. Tenace is easily kept against
your right-hand, but impossible, without great superiority of skill,
against your left-hand adversary.

You should not only endeavour to preserve the tenace, an advan-
tage of position to yourself when it is evident that the winning
cards lie between you and an adversary, but jou should do all in
your power to give it to your partner, when you perceive that the
strength in any suit lies between him and your left-hand adversary.
In this case bear in mind that when the left-hand adversary or you
lead, the tenace is against the adversary, whereas, if your partner
has to lead, the tenace is in favour of your adversary.

False Cabds.

There is nothing more necessary to be explained to the beginner
than what is usually denominated " nnder-play," as it is a constant
engine in the hands of the experienced to use successfully against
the inexperienced player.

As an illustration of under-play — You return the lowest of yonr
left-hand adversary's lead, though you have the highest in your
hand, with a view to your partner's making the third best, if he
has it, and still retaining the commanding card in your band. For
instance, if A, fourth player, has ace, king, and a small one of his
left-hand arlversary's lead, to under-p'.ay, he wins the trick with
the ace and returns the small one, which will generally succeed if
the leader has not the second and third in his own hand. You
will see by this [putting yourself in the position of the player on
whom this under-play is tried] that if you lead from a king and
others, and your right-hand adversary, after winning with a ten or
knave, returns it, you have no chance to make your king but by
putting it on [assuming that your right-hand adversary is under-
playing ; but even if he is not, his return of your lead would show
your king probably worthless, a? it would indicate shortness in the
suit, so that you cm lose little by playing the king].

The following is another situation for under-play : — A remains
with the first, third, and fourth cards of a suit, of which he has
reason to suppose his left-hand adversary has the second guarded;
it he leads the fourth, it is often passed, and A makes every trick in
the suit. [It is hardly necessary to say that the lead is not the
first in the suit.]

[This play is usually right if you are strong in trumps; but if
you are weak, it is generally the best play to make your certain
tricks as fast as you can, for the adversaries are probably strong
in trumps, and therefore weak in some other suit, which probably
is your strong one. Even in this case, however, if you are well
protected in the other plain suits, the under-play indicated by
Mathews is good ; for, if successful, it gives you good forcing-
power in the suit, which will probably enable you to make the
balance of its strength. If you gain but one trick in this way by
a long card in the suit, it must be remembered that one trick made
by " play " in a hand signifies an important percentage of ad-
vantage. This is what weak players constantly overlook, not
recognising the effect of good strategy unless three or four long
cards in a suit are made against them. The sound player knows
that one trick made by play in each hand would give him marked

advantage, while one trick lost in each hand by bad play would
signify crushing defeat in the long run. So great an advantage;
indeed, cannot be expected from even the best play against the
worst.]

The term " ur.der-play " is now often, but incorrectly, used for all
cases where a false card is played — that is, a card higher or lower
than the one which would be played in accordance with normal
whist language. The cases above considered are instances of under-
play, except that in the detailed illustration of the first case the
ace is played fourth hand from ace king instead of king as usual :
this is "over-play," making the following "under-play" more
effective, since the original leader of the suit would be apt to place
the king anywhere but in your hand. What follows in regard to
false cards relates to " over-play."

Though it is certainly more regular ti win your adversary's as
well as partner's lead with the lowest of a sequence, stiU I recom-
mend occasional deviations from that maxim ; as it is of the
greatest advantage to give your partner every information in his
suit or your own, so it is often well to deceive your adversaries in
their suits. It will now and then deceive your partner also ; but
if done with judgment, it is, I think, oftener attended with gocd
than bad effect.

There are also other situations where it is highly necessary to
deceive the adversary. For instance, Z, last player, has a tierce-
major and a small trump ; a tierce-major with two others of a
second suit ; king, and a small one of a third ; with queen or knave,
and a small one of the fourth suit, of which his adversary leads the
ace. It is so very material for Z to get the lead before he is forced,
that he should without hesitation throw down the queen or knave
as the most likely method to induce his adversary to change his
lead. But this mode of play should be reserved for material
occasions, and not by its frequency give cause for its being
suspected.

[This may be regarded as the earliest suggestion of the signal
for trumps. If the adversary should not change suit, Z's partner
on the faU of the small card would perceive that Z had played the
high card to avoid being forced, and if he himself took the second
trick would immediately lead trumps (his best, if short in trumps),
precisely as in response to the trump signal of to-day. This way of
indicating a wish for a trump lead belonged, however, to whist
strategy, and was not, like the modern signal, a merely conventional
arrangement, as little belonging to whist strategy as signalling by
coughing, sneezing, or kicking under the table would be.]
( To he concluded.')

(B\xx C&rSsJ Column.

By " Mephisto.'

K the following sprightly game some curious com-
j'lications arise which are not often seen in actual
play :—

■WurrE. Black.

Mr. E. D.-.le. Dr. J. W. Hont.

Gambit Decli.sed.

1. P to Kl 1. Plo K4

2. Kt to QU3 2. Kt to QB3
?,. P to Bl 3. B to Bi

Experience has pronounced against this move in consequence of
unsatisfactory results following on its adoption in many important
match and tournament games. If Black does no* intend to accept
the Hampe Gambit, his best plan would be to play 2. KKt to B3
instead of 2QKt to B3.

4. Kt to KB3 4. P to Q3

5. B to B4 5. P to QR3

To prevent the exchange of the active Bishop for the QKt by
Kt to QR4, which sometimes precedes this move. The second
player can hardly afford the time for such a passive move in this,
opening

6. Q to K2
A lost move.

e. B to KKtS
7 R to Bsq
A speculative move. If Black replies with 7. Kt to Q'i, then might
follows. BxP(ch),Kx B. ;>. Kt to Kt.i (ch) (a). K toKsq (best).
10. Q X B, Kt to KB3 (a). AVhite might, in this variation, give up
the piece by 9. Kt x KP (ch); in both cases White will obtain au
attacking position.

7. PxP

8. B to Kta 8. Kt to Q.T

9. Q to B4 9. Kt X Kt (ch)
10. KxKt

144

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[Apeil i>, 1888.

There was no necessity for playing: this move. P x Kt was quite
safe ; for attacking purposes the move was not effeclive.

10. Q to R5 (ch)

11. Pto Kt.S 11. QxRP.

It seems that both players pay no regard to each other's attack.
White certainly seems to have a pull by being now able to go at it
first.

12. QxP(ch) 12. K to Qsq
l.S. Q to B8 (ch) \3. K to Q2

14. QxP (ch) li. K to B3
necessary, as otherwise Q x B witli a check.

15. QxB IJ. Kt to E.S

16. Q to R-l

Black's last move was simple, but effective. If White had played
QxP, then K to KBsq would compel White to excliange his Queen
for two Books, when Black would certainly have the better prospects.
White cannot gain anything bv checking the Black King.

16. Q to Kt8 (ch)

17. E to Bsq 17. B to B7 (ch)

18. K to K2 IS. PtoBG(cli)
A very curious pcsition indeed. Escape is impossible.

19. KxP 10. Qx R

20. QxKt

Black threatened mate with the Rook, and also by a discovered
check with the B.

20. B x P (cli)
and wins ; for if 21. K x B, R to Ktsq (ch), and mate follows.

DR.\WIXG GAMES.

In an end game a good player shows to advantage. Both exact-
ness and ingenuity are necessary to carry a difficult ending 1o a
successful issue. Some players excel in one kind of end play, sucli
as those involving br I iant sacriKces : ethers, again, are very good
at pawn play. Probably the mo.-it useful knowledge is possessed by
the placer who lias a knack of drawing games whicli seem to be
lost for liim. It is beyond doubt an acquirement peculiar to some
players more than others, and an experienced player will always
take into his calculation the style of end game play of his opponent,
and suit his play accordingly ; for to emerge with anything like an
even ending against some players may mean to secure victorv,
whereas with other players no advantage short oE a piece will
secure an absolute win. The following two endings are ingenious
examples how lost games are saved by drawing: —

De. Smith.

Black.

■WnrrF.
Mb. W. Donisthobpe.
Black played

P to Kt3 (ch)
for if now K to Kt4, then R to Kt8 (ch) win; : or if P x P, P x P (ch),
K to Q5 or B6, then Kt to K2 (ch) wins. White replied with

K 1.0 B6
braving the consequences ; thus if Kt to K2 (ch), K x P, Kt x R,
White mates in three moves ; whereupon Black plaved

Kt to Q3 "
Had White now played KxP, Black would have replied with
Kt X P (ch), and the white P could not take the Kt, as Black would
otherwise obtain a check with his Rook on B8 and Queen his P.
White replied by

K to Qr, Kt to B5

K to B6
and the game was therefore abandoned as a draw. Black, however,
had some chance of winning by playing Kt to Q5 (ch) instead of

Q3 ; for if then KxP, Kt x P (ch), as beforesaid, K to B6, Kt to
Q5 (ch), K to Q.5, Kt to B.i, P ;■• P (ch), K x P, P to B5 (ch), K to B2,
R to Kt.5 or P to B6, then Kt to Q6 (ch), followed by R to Q8, and
the Pawn will win. Or it after Kt to Q.5 (ch) the White King does
not take the Pawn, but retires to Q5, Black might plav

Kt to Q.-) (ch)"

K to Q.5 P X P

K X Kt P to R5

K to B.5 P to R6

P to Kt6 (ch) K to Kt2

and Black will win.

Mb. W. Dosisthorpe.

WnrrE.

Dr. Smith.

White plaved

R to Q6

whereupon Black drew by R x P (ch) I

K X R QxP (ch)

Q to Kt3 R to Rsq (ch)

K to Kt2 Q to Q5 (ch)

K to Bsq

If Q to B3, then Black plays E to R" (ch), winning the Queen.

Q to KtS (ch)
K (0 Kt2

and Black drew by perpetual check, as White dare not play his

K to Q2.

The following

pretty game occurred Id a

match played in

America between Messrs. Lipschiitz and Delmar;-

-

Scotch

Gambit.

■WUITH.

Black.

■WnrrE.

Black.

Delmar.

LijJschUtz.

DeliiKir.

Lu.scbUt2.

1. P to K4

PtoK4

9. P to KB3

KtxP

2. Kt to KB3

Kt to QB3

10. R to Ksq

Q toB3

3. PtoQt

PxP

11. Q to K2

Castles

4. Kt X P

Kt to B3

12. QxKt

QxP (ch) !

5. Kt X Kt

KtP X Kt

13. K to Rsq

BxP!

6. B to Q3

P to Ql

14. PxB

Q to B6 (ch)

7. Pto Ko

Kt to Kto

1.5. K toR2

B to Q3

8. Castles

B to B4

16. QxB

Q to B7 (ch) !

Resigns.

Contents of No. 29.

PAOK

God's TJ inverse 1*7

Shakespeare Eelf-dnivvD. By Beii-

volio f>9

Have Ghosu been seen ? ini

Varieties of American Life 103

Morals of Nobility. By Grace

Greanwood 104

Water Myths. By Stella Oxidens 106
Scratching in the Aoimal Kingdom.
Bv Professor Samuel Lock-
wood 108

The Stars of other Times 110

PAOB

Old and XcTv Astronomy li'J

Royal Victoria Hall ...' ll-"?

In the BegiLning 113

Evolution of Lacgaage. By Ada S.

Ballin 115

Review J 116

Our Whi^t Column. By *-Five of

Clubs" 118

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

phisto" IID

The Face of the Sky for March.

By F.R.A.S 120

TEEMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge " as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspapsr for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : a. d.

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To the East Indies, CMna, &c 10 6

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To Australia, New Zealand, && 14 0

To any address in the United Kin-jdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, tte Puhsciiption ia 7b. 6d., aa berstoforo.

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO>A/^I.EDGE ♦

145

^ILLUSTRATED JIAGAZINE ^

ffi£NC£,l!TEMTUIlE,& ART_

LONDON: MAY 1, 1888.

THE STAR STOR^ OF THE FLOOD.

HAVE made what appears to me an interesting
discoveiy. In drawing the star-maps, which
appear in Knowledge for March and April,
I have lighted on peculiarities which have a
singular bearing on an ancient record of a
universal deluge long regarded as full of
difficulties. A series of coincidences which
are very strange indeed if they are merely accidental, points,
apparently, in the clearest way to an interpretation w-hich
is not indeed absolutely new (were it so I might find the
evidence less striking), but for which certainly there has
hitherto been no such evidence as that which I am about to
suggest.

I have had occasion of late, in dealing with the opening
chapters of a book on Astronomy (now nearly a quarter of
a centui-y in preparation), to consider the aspect of the
stellar heavens as seen by Babylonian and Egyptian
astronomers. So far as I know, no modern student of astro-
nomy has been at tlie p:iins to pictui'e the starry skies as
they appeared at particular long-past epochs in the history
of astronomy. Here and there cases have occurred where
some special star or constellation has been set back (as it
were) so many thousands of years, in order to ascertain
what position it had in the days of Ptolemy or Hipparchus,
or, farther back still, in the time — some 2200 years B.C. —
to which the buikling of the Pyramids of Egypt was first
assigned by those who regard the descending passage as a
polar pointer, or yet further back to that time — about 3-400
years B.C. — when the same star was in view down that
descending passage, and when, according to Egyptologists,
the dynasty of the Pyramid builders held sway over the
land of Egypt. I have myself, accepting that remoter date
as unquestionably the true era of Cheops, Chephren, and the
rest of the Pyramid builders, noticed many details of
interest in the stellar skies of those da)'s. I find, for
example, that the ascending passage and the great gallery
within the Pyramid, besides commanding (by reflection at
a water surface) the pole-star of the period, bore directly on
the star Alpha (Jentauri, remarkable as the nearest of all
our sun's fellows in the star depths. The long trenches dug
outside the eastern edge of the Pyramid's base (and called
by Professor Smyth the azimuth trenches) bore on the bright
stars Arcturus and C'apella at their rising, and were doubt-
less associated with the observation of the rising of these
stars, so as to be visible just before sunrise — a relation called
the heliacal rising of these first-magnitude stars. The
Pleiades were at that time exactly on the equator, a much
more critical and interesting feature than Professor Smyth
had looked for when he sought a date near the year 2200 B.C.,
and selected one which put the Pleiades on the meridian
passing through the sun's place at the spring equinox — for
the equator is of all the circles on the celestial sphere the
most easily recognised and the most obviously interesting.

But while I had noticed many such points as these, and
had indeed been much attracted by their study, I had not
been able to find time for what I had long intended — the
construction of maps which should show tlie whole of the
starry heavens a.s they would have appeared at or about tliat
critical time when the astronomy of the ancient Babylonians
and Egyptians (as distinguished from the modern Nebuchad-
nezzars, Pharaohs, and the rest) reached its culmination.
No astronomer who studies carefully wh.at is known about
ancient astronomy, can fail to recognise in the astronomy
of the later Chaldeans the signs of decadence and degenera-
tion. Nor can we wonder that it is .so. Clearly in tiie
days of the earlier kingdoms of Babylon and Egypt,
astronomy had been regarded as full of material promise.
A 11 the ancient astronomers wei'O astrologers : it was the
astrological aspect of astronomy alone which had invited
them to the laborious and expensive works by which they
had hoped to force from the skies the secret of the stars,
and to give to their ruling dynasties the power not only of
reading but of ruling the celestial orbs. That hope had
been in great measure disappointed. Astronomers still
from time to time renewed their aspiration.s, and we find
records that kings and rulers put trust in the promises of
their astrological magi and diviners; but never again did
whole nations contribute as they had done in the days of
Cheops and Chephren, and in those of the builders of the
Babylonian temple of the planetary spheres, to erect
temple-observatories for the study of the movements
of the heavenly bodies. The building of the Great Pyramid
and (contemporaneously with it) its fellows in the Ghizeli
plains, marked the time when astrological astronomy reached
its highest j)liase of development. It was at once the
science and the religion of the great Eastern nations of
those days. Cities were built to the sun and moon. All
the works of human life, fiom the day when the babe's
nativity was cast to the time when the body was to be
committed to the tomb, were regulated by the movements of
the heavenly bodies, whose influences as deities were
sujiposed potent over all transactions from the most trivial
to the mo.st important.

When leisure, or rather the course of my literary labours,
gave me the opportunity to construct a planisphere' of the
ancient skies, I took for my epoch 3400 years b.c, because
while that accorded well witli the date assigned by
Egyptologists to the reign of Cheops, it brought the pole-
star. Alpha Draconis, or Thuban, into the direction aimed
at by the long descending passage, cut (some four feet
squai'e) into the solid rock below the Pyramid, and con-
tinued right through the massive stonework to a total
distance of more than a Jiundred yards. It has always
seemed to me preposterous to question the astronomical
significance of this ])olar pointer. One might as reasonably
question the astronomical use of the monster sundials and
other shadow-throwing structures in Delhi, Benares, &c. —
as, indeed, non-astronomical persons would most certainly
do if we did not chance to have records of the objects with
which these masses of stonework were .set up, and of the
astronomical uses to which they were applied. The men of
the Pyramid times may not have made such advances in
science as the men of our own day, but they were not
wanting in sense. We may be sure they did not make
these obviou.sly astronomical passages and galleries merely
to symbolise imperfectly for after ages such knowledge as
they possessed, but with a very definite purpose. We may
confidently accept as obvious the theory, first advanced by
Sir John Herschel, that that long passage was a polar
pointer, the longest and most massively constructed ever
m.ade by man. We can have no doubt that Thuban, the
mid star of the Dragon, was the pole-star towards which it

146

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

was diiecteJ. This leaves us only two dates between which
to choose, for the time of the important astronomical era
marked by the building of the Great Pyramid — viz. about
2200 B.C., and about 3400 B.C. — unless we care to go back
some 27,000 years farther, when again we find a pair of
dates, about 31,000 and 32,200 years B.C., when Thuban was
rightly situated. We may safely reject all such exceedingly
remote dates, however, as Egyptologists agree in assigning
to the dynasty of Cheops, C'hephren, &c., dates between
3200 and 3600 before Christ.

For the date 3400 b.c, then, I construcled my charts,
expecting to obtain interesting and curious results. I hoped
in particular to find explanations of references to the stai's
by poets of later days, who recalled old sayings in ignorance
of the fact that the aspect of the heavens had altered since
those sayings had been in vogue. For experience shows
that there are few subjects in which old ideas retain their
influence more tenaciously than they do in regard to the
aspects and movements of the heavenly bodies.

The first glance at my maps (when they were completed
in such sort that the skies of 5300 years ago were presented
before me) served to explain several familiar passages of the
clas.sics. For instance, Virgil's well-known lines,

Candidus aurati.s aperit quum cornibus aiiLum
Taurus,

imply as distinctly as possible the idea that the year began
(which would mean that the sun crossed the equator at
spring) when the sun was on the Bull's horns. But in
Virgil's time, the sun was not in the constellation of the
Bull at all when the year began (in the old sense of the
words). The point where he crosses the equator had passed
out of Taurus, over Aries, and had already entered Pisces
at that time. The sun in Virgil's age was passing over the
Bull's horns in the middle of May, a time which cannot by
any astronomical or meteorological artifice be regarded as
the opening of the 3-ear.* But in my chart for 3400 b.c,
the sun was right on the Bull's horns at the beginning of
spring.

Another passage in Virgil finds an explanation from the
same chart. In his "Pollio," taken from a Siliylline
prophecy of venerable but unknown antiquit}', we find him
saying.

Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna,

as if there were some connection between the constellation
of the Virgin and the return of the beneficent influence
poured forth by the sun in summer. Pope, indeed, in his
introduction to his eclogue, " Messiah," goes so far as to
draw a parallel between this ))assage and the well-known
passage in Isaiah, " Behold a A^irgin shall conceive and bear
a son." But without entering into a discussion of the
Virgin birth attributed of old to sun-gods, Osiris, Horus,

* I may remark here that Chaucer is more careful in this matter,
but has been blamed by Tyrwhilt for an error which he had not
made. In the prologue to the " Canterbury Tales," he speaks of the
time (which he there indicates as ia April, and in other places marks
as late in April) as that

When Zephyrus . . . with his swoote breath

Inspired hath in every holt and heath

The tender cvoppes, and the yonge sun

Hath in the Ram his halfe course y-run.

On this Tyrwhitt remarks that this would place the time of the
pilgrimage in the end of JIarch. But Tyrwhitt lias confounded
the sign with the constellation. Our almanacs speak of the sun
entering Aries on the day of the autumnal equinox, meaning the
sign, winch for convenience still has its " iirst point " at the place
where the sun crosses the equator. But the sun does not really
enter the constellation of the Ram till a month later. Chaucer,
who seems to have been well versed in the astronomy of his day, says
rightly that the sun had run half his course in the Kam towards
the end of April.

Mithras, Serapis, Adonis, and the rest (and naturally
ascribed later to such teachers as Zoroaster, Gatitama, Plato,
and others), we may at once find an explanation of Virgil's
reference when we note that at the time to which all his
astronomical passages must be referred, the sun — who was
leaving Taurus in spring — was entering Virgo at mid-
summer.

I might consider a number of similar matters, many of
them of much interest, but that I should thus leave little
space for the special discovery which I wish here chiefly to
consider.

Tlie celestial eqttator drawn for the year 3400 B.C. runs
along the whole length of Hydra, the great sea-serpent,
from his Heart, marked by the star Alphard (or the Soli-
tary, known also as Co?- Ilydrm) to the tip of his tail. The
head and neck are reared above the equator, that is, on its
northern side, which for Egypt and Babylon would of
course be above, and the two small constellations, the Raven
and the Cup, which, though undoubtedly very ancient, were
as undoubtedly parts of the Sea-serpent as well as inde-
pendent constellations, rise above the equator, as if the body
of the Sea-serpent showed here slightly above the ocean
level.

This peculiarity of the starry skies of the time we are
considering, recalls the old idea that around the heavens as
around the earth is coiled a mighty serpent, associated with
the ocean waves surrounding the frame of the earth. In
the description of the constellations in the shield of Herakles
we find (following Elton's translation) what corresponds
closely with this peculiarity :■ — •

Rounding the utmost verge the ocean How'd
As in full swell of waters, and the shield
All variegated with whole circle bound.

Remembering that the same poem describes the Dragon as
" coil'd "—

. . . full in the central field,

With eyes oblique retorted that askant

Cast gleaming tire,

which corresponds precisely with the polar position of the
Diagon at the time we are considering, we see that the
rounding of the utmost verge by the ocean " swell of waters "
may fairly be regarded as extremely significant. It matters
not in the least whether we adopt or reject the idea, thrown
out Ijy me eighteen years ago, that the original description
of both the shield of Herakles and the shield of Achilles
(two unquestionably solar heroes) related to the dome of a
zodiac temple for the worship of the sun. It suffices that in
each case the poem speaks definitely of the constellations. Each
shield contained them, so that the object originally described
undoubtedly presented the constellations as on a dome or
hemisphere, or in a chart, and my sole contention here is
that the reference to the Dragon as the polar constellation,
and the sea waves as bounding the circuit of the constella-
tions, indicates the period to which the picturing of the
constellations belonged. In passing, however, I may remark
that the identity of many lines in the two descriptions
shows that in each we have part only of what was originally
a much longer poem ; and, while it is unlikely enough that
objects like the constellations would be selected for the
adornment of a warrior's shield, and improbable that in a
grottp of songs like those composing the " Iliad, ' so long a
description would be devoted to a mere shield (unless a
poem already extant provided convenient material), it is
utterly incredible that a poem so long as the original from
which both " shields " were deriveJ, should ever have related
to such a subject as a mortal warrior's shield, or have been
but part of a single book of an epic poem. The shield of
Jove himself in the " Iliad " is described in four lines ; the
poem from which the shields of Herakles and of Achilles

May 1, 18SS.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

14;

have been borrowed cannot have been much less than a
thousand lines in length.

It was the recognition of the peculiar correspondence be-
tween the equator and the long body of the Sea-serpent
(ranging past the zodiacal constellations, the Crab, the Lion,
the Virgin, and the Scales) which led me to inquire into the
position of some of the most remarkable constellations of
the earliest known systems of astronomy. Naturally I
turned first to the great constellation Argo, which is, or
rather was, altogether the most striking of them all.

Let me, however, premise that few even among astronomers
seem to understand how in ancient times the constellations
were dealt with. It requires a long and careful study of
old descriptions and old globes and pictures, to recognise
what the constellations re;illy must have been ; and modern
astronomers, those at least who are chiefly engaged in sur-
veying the heavens, take little interest in inquiiies of the
sort, ilost of them imagine that the constellations have
always had about the limits assigned to them in modern
charts. And since it is obvious that, as thus defined, the
star groupings show for the most part very little resemblance
to the various objects after which they are called, it is
quietlj' taken for granted that men in old times called the
star groups by names assigned for the most part in quite
arbitrary fashion.

Mr. Lang, in his interesting volume " Custom and Myth,"
has an essay on star myths, which is partly based on the
idea that there is no real resemblance in most cases between
a constellation and the object after which it is named. " The
most eccentric modern fiincy," he says, " which can detect
what shape it will in clouds, is unable to find any likeness
to human or animal forms in the stai-s." Yet the forms are
there in the star-groupings, in some cases so strongly sug-
gested, that once noted they cannot readily be lost. Mr.
Lang himself notes the Crown, where the resemblance is
obvious when the heavens themselves are studied, and also
easy when the modern constellation-maps are considered.
The Dolphin is another example where the fitness of the
ancient name is easily .=een. A case or two of this kind
ought to suggest that, in other cases, where the resemblance
may not appear so obvious, and where there may be no
resemblance at all when the modern constellation is exa-
mined, either some important changes have taken place
among the stars themselves or else the modern constellation
differs gi-eatl}' from the old one.

Eejccting the former supposition as contrary to the
evidence — for though stars have changed in brightness there
is no evidence of changes numerous enough to spoil the old
constellations — we examine the other. But here at once
we fi^nd how the difiiculty has arisen. The modern constel-
lations not only differ from the ancient ones, but have been
formed on an entirely different plan. The old constellations
overlapped freely; the modern ones, on account of the
special purposes which they are intended to fulfil, fit like
the counties in a map of England. The care with which
this requirement is now attended to belongs in reality to
quite recent times, though probably even in the days of
Hipparchus and Eudoxus something of the sort had been
attempted. There are clear signs that even long after the
Greek lettering of Bayer was adopted, the constellations
remained somewhat overlapping. Thus the star which
Bayer called Alpha Andromeda; he also called Delta Pegasi,
as it formed an essential point in the configuration of both
constellations. But as the modern astronomer does not care
two straws for the mere configuration of the constellations
and cares a gi-eat deal about simplicity and uniformity of
nomenclature, one of these names had to be given up.
Consequently the modern student of the stars looks in vain
for Delta Pegasi in the charts. lie finds Alpha, Beta, and

Gamma, also Epsilon, Zeta, Eta, and so on, nearly to the
end of the alphabet ; but Delta Pegasi he cannot find. Yet
the star which was so named is of the second magnitude.
In like manner the constellation Auriga wants the star
Gamma, which formerly marked the spot where Auriga
overlapped Taurus. The star remains, of course; but it
now only has one title. Beta Tauri, instead of being called
also Gamma Auriga^.

In modem charts, showing the constellations, we find
lingering traces of the old iisage, carelessly though these
figures have been dealt with. Thus the Scorpion's claws
had been for too long a time and too intricately mixed up
with the legs of the Serpent-holder to be readily extricated.
By a desperate efibrt the constellation boundaries have been
kept apart, though both Scorpio and Ophiuchus have lost
stars in the contest. But the figures showing these two
constellations still present one claw of Scorpio amicably
twined round one of the Serpent-holders legs, the other
extending behind the southern scale of the Balance. It
may be noticed in passing that the Scorpion and the Balance
illustrate the change from the ancient method in another
way. It is well known that for a time the Balance disap-
peared from Greek star maps, notwithstanding its impoi-tanc*
as a zodiacal sign, and its exceedingly ancient standing.
Then the claws of the Scorpion were withdrawn and the
Scales resumed their place, many imagining that the Balance
then first took its place in the heavens. But this is
an altogether mistaken position. They merely resumed the
place which they had formerly occupied.

Now when we are no longer limited to the modern con-
stellation outlines, in our search for the star-groupings in
which men of old found resemblances to various objects,
animate and inanimate, we can readily see where these
resemblances were imagined. For instiince, whereas the
present Lion of the star maps, is an altogther feeble creature,
with a nose like a rat, and no tail at all, the ancient Lion,
whose head was on Cancer, its mane over Leo Minor, and
the tail formed by the group called Berenice's Hair, while
his hindpaws fell on the Sextant, and his forepaws over the
Sea-serpent's head, was really a magnificent stellar animal,
whose form can still be clearly recognised among the stai's. So
with the Bear : where our maps show his long tail — imagine
a long-tailed bear and what the ancients would have thought
of our raising such a nondescript to the heavens ! — fell
really the outline of a portion of his back. A large part of
his body covered that ridiculous modern constellation, the
Hunting Dogs ; his head for a wonder has been left, and
most neatly pictures the peculiar head of .a bear (though it
also served the Egyptians for the head of a hippopotiimus),
while the long plantigrade paws are also most characteristi-
cally indicated. He is chased, this real old Bear recognised
by all the nations of antiquity from China to Peru (the long
way round), by the Herdsman Bootes, with uplifted arms :
so, at least, the old watchers of the stars saw the figure of
the Ploughman ; but modern astronomers have thought it
necessary to deprive him of his right arm, which has been
assigned to the constellation Corona. By modern astro-
nomers in this case, I refer to the contemporaries of
Hipp.archus and Ptolemy. And so with many others of the
most interesting of the ancient constellations. They have
been separated where they formerly overlapped. Then
pieces have been taken off them to form such ridiculous con-
stellations as the Clock, the Painter's Easel, the Pneumatic
Pump, the Flying Fish, the Chameleon, the Shield of
Sobieski, and ahost of other absurdities which discredit the
memory of Hevelius, Lacaille, and others who, like them,
should have known better.

(To he conHnued.)

118

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888,

HUNTING ALLIGATORS.*

HE Florida 'gator is a rare " bird " in its
way, and a very formidaljle one, too, at
times, but, like all celebrities, is sometimes
used as tbe basis for some stupendous
yarns. For instance, in a recent issue, a
Newark (N.J.) authority (?) gives the
modus operandi for catching and killing
thf saurian, when its skin is wanted. One method was to
get tbe 'gator amused at some side-splitting (New Jersey ?)
tiile, or else tickle him under the fifth rib, and when he
opened his huge mouth in an amused grin, to seize tbe
opportunity and thrust a big harpoon through his tongue.
The 'gator would then good-naturedly butt himself against
the bank until be felt the throes of final dissolution, when
be would float up against the wharf, give up the ('gator) ghost
and be in readiness to be skinned. Again, the spectacle of
" Alligator Piatt " riding on a 'gator's back, " geeing and
hawing," so as to make a good landing, would make even
the most ill-natured and fierce bull saurian that ever in-
fested these waters, split his sides with loud guflaws ! It
should have been added to this that he trained them and
drove them in pairs to plough his orange grove 1

The 'gator is beset witli dangers from tbe first, which
probably accounts for his somewhat unfriendly disposition.
'The female finds some secluded sandbank exposed fully to
the sun's rays, scoops out a hole two or three feet deep with
her fore paws, lines it with old rubbish, grass, &c., and lays
a layer of eggs from 2.3 to 200 at a time. These are care-
fully covered over to a height of three to four feet with
grass, small sticks, &c. From the moment of laying tbe
eggs scores of enemies are in wait. The big sand cranes and
eagles are not averse to a good meal of 'gator's eggs, while
bears, wild cats, and foxes take them as a great delicacy.
Then comes the naturalist and curiosity hunter, and hundreds
of eggs are gathered by these insatiable seekers. The old
female is very fierce at this time, and lies in wait near by,
and has been known to attack men even in the defence of
her nest. Finally the young 'gators are hatched by the
sun's rays, and the mound seems alive with what looks like
young snakes. These young ones are smart and lively from
the first. The old bull 'gator, with an idea of the good
things of life, has been taking a sly intei'est in this incuba-
tion, and when the young ones got out he is on band to
take a good meal on infant alligator.

Many fights have been witnessed between the female and
the nuxle, in the former's defence of her young. The young
ones, until they reach a length of a foot, are with the old
female all the tiuie. Their great delight is to lie basking on
the sunny sand bank, clustered in one big mass. Upon the
slightest alarm the old mother utters a hoarse call, opening
wide her capacious mouth, and the youngstei'S scramble in
for safety.

Formerly they were plentiful on all tbe streams and lakes
in this State, but the iudisciiminate shooting has scared
them off into the more inaccessible bayous and lakes. In
tlie lower portion of the State, in the everglades, they are
hunted vigorously for their skius. Scores of hunters secure
from ],0tlO to 1,.')00 skins annually, and as they receive
f^l each for them, they obtain what is to them a princely
income.

" Alligator Piatt," one of the oldest hunters in that
section of the State, lives on Lake Tohopekoliga, and his
.■•tories of miraculous escapes from 'gators and boars aie
tlioroughly enjoyed by the touri.sts who have the good
fortune to hear him narrate any of them.

* Jacksonville (Fla.) correspondence St. Louis Glabe Democrat.

The best and most common mode of hunting them is by
flashing their eyes at night, the same as deer stalking. Two
general!}' hunt together in a canoe, one sitting in the stern
paddling, the other standing at the bow, with a buU's-eyo
fastened to bis head. They move on cautiously, the one in
front coaching the course by slow motions of his hand.
Hist I a warning hand is upraise<l, the motion of the paddle
ceases, and the canoe glides on almost imperceptibly, the
slight ripple at the bow being the only sound heard. The
one with the rifle — a 44-calibre Winchester — slowly raises
bis weapon, peering expectantly forward, now to one side,
then another. Suddenly a gleam is seen ahead like a coal
of fire shining through the darkness, and the upraised rifle
belches forth a stream of fire. A confused threshing, and,
perhaps, a deep bellow follows ; then all is still. If wounded
the 'gator makes off to deep water, and if dead he sinks at
once. The hunters do not stop for their game, unless in
shallow water, and the 'gator is killed instantly, but go
ahead and search for fresh victims. The next day they
begin their look-out for their game. When killed the
saurians sink at once, but the gases in the body bring them
up in from six to ten hours. Hundreds are undoubtedly
lost by being wounded and dying in some inaccessible creek
or bayou, but the pot hunters care not. The skins are care-
fully taken off, and the carcases left for buzzards and other
scavengers, though the teeth are generally secured if there
is time. No portion is eaten, though some of the hunters
delight to thrill the incredulous tourists with tales of living
on alligator meat.

Last Christmas a good joke was perpetrated at a leading
South Florida fashionable resort. It was a great head-
quarters for sportsmen, and game of all kinds was abundant
on the table. On Christmas day, on the menu cards of the
table where six jolly characters sat, was " venison " steak.
It seemed to please them all greatly, and was called for
repeatedly, and the cook was complimented for the fine
dish. After dinner, as they were picking their teeth com-
placently in tbe i-eading-room — [such is, alas, the savage
custom throughout the States. — K. P.] — the smiling host, a
great wag. who never suflered himself to interfere with a
good joke, called several of them into the olEce where a
dozen or more others wei'e gathered, and casually inquired
regarding the " venison."

" It was remarkably fine," said a well-known Chicago
banker ; " so juicy and tender. Where was it killed ? "

" Yes," interjected a New Yorker, a prominent yachts-
man, who also prided himself on his ability to hunt. "It
was prime. I shall have to try my luck at his kindred
to-morrow."

'■ I certainly enjoyed it." remarked a Congressman from
Ohio, a weU-known epicure, too. " Y"ou know I always
said you ought to give us more of that sort." Othere
joined in to the same effect, when the host, with a twinkle
in his eye, said :

'■Well, gentlemen, I am certainly glad you enjoyed that
alligator steak. We can now find a good use for those
fellows."

A moment they stood spellbound by his words, and then,
as the full meaning burst upon them, their faces paled to
ashy whiteness and they left for their rooms precipitately,
whilst peals of laughter greeted the victims from those iu
the secret. For some time afterwards it was not safe to
mention " venison " to any of the partakers thereof.

Generall}-, alligators are very timid, and they will seldom
attack a man unless wounded and driven to a corner.
Still, instances are narrated of old bull 'gators becoming
pugnacious and attacking boats. Dogs, pigs, and small
animals are seldom safe from their attacks, while cattle and
horses have been known to suffer fiom their assaults. The

May 1, 1888]

♦ KNO>A/^LEDGE ♦

140

big bull 'gators often go across country from one pond to
another, sometimes going many miles. Where ponds or
lakes are closely connected there is always found a well-
beaten track leading from one to the other. Sometimes
they are encountered on the road. These journeys are made
near nightfall.

Besides their skin, the teeth are valuable, being made
into "alligator jewellery" — charms, ear-rings, ring-bangles,
&c. The teeth are generally secured by burying the head
till it decomposes, and then picking out the teeth — a not
very pleasant task. The teeth are then bathed in acids,
which thoroughly clean and remove all unpleasant smell.

A full-gi-own 'gator is from 12 to 18 feet long, and dis-
plays a remarkable '-openness" when he smilo> in his own
peculiarly engaging way.

CANALS OR RIVERS ON MARS?

URING the present approach of !Mars, who
passed opposition on April 11, careful ob-
servations should he made by those who
possess large telescopes, or have control of
well-provided observatories, on the so-called
"canals" of Schiaparelli, and especially on
the duplication of the canals. The planet
will b3 more favourably situated than Schiaparelli himself
supposes for the investigation of these phenomena. He recog-

serve to show observers of Mars that whatever may be the
accuracy of Schiaparelli's observations, he has not correctly
delineated the planet's aspect, while it will equally show
students of physical geography and believers in the uni-
formitarian views now prevailing throughout science gene-
rally, that the "' double canals " have probably no objective
existence. Yet we cannot reject Schiaparelli's observations,
renewed as they have been by himself at successive
oppositions of Mars since the phenomenon was first observed,
and confirmed by Celoria, Perrotin, and Trepied.

I suppose Schiaparelli himself has given up the wild
notion suggested by him, and accepted by several of the
ultra-cautious astronomers of the inductive school (in which
r.ashness and caution strangely interchange places), that the
can.als and their duplications are the work of Martian
inhabitants. For though a purely inductive philosopher
(acting on the inductively cautious principle that every-
thing observed is to be accepted precisely as observed, and
not to be corrected by any such rash process as deductive
analvsis) might gladly accept the idea that Martian beings
could first construct canals thousands of miles long and
twenty or thirty miles wide, and then duplicate these in two
years or so of terrestrial time, even inductive caution
can scarcely be capable of believing that the second canal
of each pair would be destroyed as each i\Iartian summer
approached and renewed soon after the next following spring.

The interpretation which, with deductive r.ashness, I
suggested for Schiaparelli's observations soon after they were
first announced seems so strikingly confirmed by his later

Fio. 1.— Chart o£ ilars by Signor Schiaparelli, showing his double canals.

ni.ses in the appearance and disappearance of double canals
a periodicity depending upon the Martian seasons, having
observed that they come into view soon after the vernal
equinox of the northern hemisphere, and gradually dis-
appear— that is, fewer and fewer of them are seen — towards
northern midsummer ; and he has invited astronomers to
observe whether similar phenomena are to be noticed after
the autumnal equinox of the northern hemisphere — that is,
after the vernal equinox of the southern hemisphere. But he
does not notice that there is reason to expect a recurrence of
the phenomena which have perplexed him (and by which
he has perplexed many) as the autumnal equinox of the
northern hemisphere approaches — and under more favourable
conditions than after the equinox, because most of the
" canals " are in the northern hemisphere of Mars.

Fig. 1 i-epresents Schiaparelli's chart of Mars on a
modification of Mercator's projection. A glance at it will

observations and the recognition of a seasonal periodicity in
the phenomena, that I venture to recall attention to it now,
when it can be tested by observations which may prove
even more effective, if not decisive. " Some difference of
opinion," said the late Mr. Webb, " may possibly be expected
concerning the.se strange appearances" — a tolerably safe
prediction — "and the consequent enfeebling (to say the least
of it) of the long-admitted terrestrial analogy m.ay be, ^ to
some minds, unacceptalile." I have one of those " minds," a
mind which obstinately declines to give me the otium cum
dijnitiite resulting, so far as I can judge, from the placid
acceptance of strange observations as signifying just what
they seem to signify, and not at any price to be interpreted
according to known laws and established analogies. " But,"
Mr. Webb went on to say, " the established reputation of
the observer " — Schiaparelli — " demands at any rate a
respectful attention to his statements." With this opinion

150

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

I must express the fullest agreement : only, it has always
seemed to me that when an observer of established reputa-
tion has made a series of striking observations, respectful
attention involves careful examination of his work. If I
were myself devoted to observation, and \mable (as is the
case with many of our best observers) to give much time to
analysis, I should not be very grateful to those who claimed
the acceptance of my observations precisely as they stood,
without inquiry into their significance, or such due com-
parison intei- se and with observations made by others as
would be essential to their satisfactory interpretation. To
this I may add that the basis of such analysis should always,
in my opinion, be admitted analogies. I know of no
theoi-y now accepted as sound which ever had any other
foundation.

I regard Schiaparelli's observation as one of the most
interesting ever made by the telescopist. At the same time,
I consider his " double canals " as having no existence in
nature. " But," says the purely inductive philosopher,
" he has seen them, and therefore they must be objective
realities." Hevelius said the same of the star-discs which
his telescopes showed him, and became quite angry (for an
astronomer) when his measurements of those discs were

Fic. 2. — Construotiou for determining tlic axial pose of Mars on
tlie meridian, Jlay ], 18S1.

lookeA on with doubt. If his telescope had been a little
better he would have seen not only seemingly well-defined
and measiu'able star-discs, but a series of very obvious and
unmistakable rings round each star. And probably the
more simply inductive philosophers of his time would have
been indignant (philosophically, of course) at those who
would not admit the enfeebling, to say the least of it, of
long-admitted solar analogies, and give such respectful
attention to the observations of the eminent astronomer as
would have been involved in the supposition that other
suns than ours have immense rings round them, so situate
through some strange influence that they are none of them
foreshortened, but all appear exactly circular.

The interest of Schiaparelli's observations resides (for me)
in the circumstance that they indicate the existence of an
analogy between Mars and the earth, which, though long
suspected, had never before been demonstrated. Unques-
tionably not duplicate canals on Mars, nor phenomena due
to our own atmosphere, the double marks were as unques-
tionably seen ; and we need not bo in a hurry to say that
" explanation is set at defiance," since there is nothing
suggestive of inherent inexplicability in these appearances.

On the contrar}-, we seem guided easily towards an inter-
pretation which promises to remove every ditticulty.

Parallel lines apparently seen where no parallel lines can
be reasonablj' supposed to be, suggest certain optical phe-
nomena in which we see parallel lines as the optical images
of lines really single, circles as the optical images of points,
and other optical products — as they may be called since they
are not optical illusions — which by no means correspond
with the real nature of the object under obsei'vation. The
optical image of an exceedinglj' fine bright line on a rela-
tively dark ground observed through a telescope is a broader
bright line, on either side of which run two parallel lines
much less bright, and outside these again other still fainter
lines. Under particular conditions of relative lustre in the
source of light the eye would recognise only the two rela-
tively dark parallel bands on cither side of the median
bright streak of measurable width (depending on the aper-
ture of the telescope employed).

Is it not, on the whole, more likely (to say the least of it)
that what Sohiaparelli has taken for sets of double canals
are simply the two relatively dark streaks on either side of
the bright diffraction images of exceedingly fine luminous
streaks on Mars, than that those objects arc really "double
canals" on toe enormous scale imagined, or that the

Fio. 3..

-Meridians atid lalitude-pamllels of Mars rn the meridian,
May 1, 1888, for an inverting telescope.

phenomena are otherwise wholly inconsistent with " admitted
terrestrial analogies 1 "

The varying aspect of these objects would be readily
explained on this supposition, nay, wculd be a necessary
consequence of the hypothesis that the luminous streaks ai'e
Martian rivers. Moreover, the change of ajipearance would
be likely to occur at precisely the season when Schiaparelli
has found that it does occur.

Rivers on Mars would be fivr too delicate objects to be
seen with their own proper outlines even with the most
powerful telescopes, whether they were bright streaks on a
darker ground or dark streaks on a lighter ground. It is
not likely that there is any river so large as the Nile, probably
there is not one so large as the Danube or the Volga on the
])lanet Mars, and a river would have to be at least twenty
times as wide as the Nile, taking the average of the lowest
five hundred miles of its flow, to be seen with the telescope
at Mars's distance. Usually a river if visible would be seen
as a dark streak on the lighter background of the continent,
just as the Martian seas are usually darker than the lands.
Such a river would be perceptible, though not actually
visible with its true outlines, through a good telescojie, as a
dusky streak many times broader than the river itself. But

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO\VLEDGE ♦

151

if under special atmosplieric conditions there were mists
over the waters of the river, or the river being frozen
remained snow-covered in spring after the snows liad melted
from its shores, the river would be bright on a darker back-
ground, and then the difTraction image of the river would
appear as a broad band of light between a pair of parallel
dark streaks. At other times the river would not be seen
at all, the continent with its rivers being more or less
enshrouded in cloud and mist.

It seems reasonable to suppose that (1) during the winter
months of the northern hemi.'^phere the rivers on Mars
would not be visible, or would at least not be conspicuous ;
(i) after the vernal equinox the clouds and mists hiding the
continents and rivers in great part from view would melt
awav, but would linger longest over the river beds ; and
(.3) as summer approached the mists would melt away during
the midday hours over the rivers also. The observations of
Schiaparelli, as I have endeavoured to interpret them,
correspond with this sequence; for (1) in the winter of
north Mars no dark streaks are seen, or but few, and those
indistinctly; (2) in the spring are seen the parallel dark
streaks ; and (3) towards summer the duplicated streaks
become single.

Now during May, June, and July, ]\lars will be passing
through the late summer and autumn of his northern hemi-
sphere, and it will be interesting to inquire whether the
dark single streaks, indicating clear skies over the river
beds of Mars, change again into the dark double streaks
indicating mist along the river tracks, before passing as
winter advances, under those envelopes of mist and cloud,
which will hide the rivers altogether from our view.

I give in fig. 2 the construction for determining the posi-
tion of the polar axis of Mars, and the opening of the
equator on May 1.* From that date onwards the planet's
presentation will not differ importantly while the planet is
favourably situated for observation, so that fig. 3, the pro-
jection for the inverted telescopic aspect of the planet (on
the meridian) will serve well enough to the end of this
Martian season.

WEIGHING THE EARTH.

(Concluded J'rom. pcuje 12-3.)

yS-O jijiiiSSjyi HE principle of the method is Olustrated in
fig. 1. Here a and h are two small globes
at the ends of a uniform rod r r' , suspended
in a horizontal position by the cord or wire
c C, attached to its centre C. The horizon-
tal rod, left to itself, tends to a mean posi-
tion which may be called the position of rest,
though, as a matter of fact, when the suspension is as
delicate as it has to be in the experiments considered, the
rod never is at rest, but oscillates constantly, and very
slowly, through short arcs on either side of its mean position.
A and B are two heavy globes, which can be brought readily
into such positions as are shown in fig. 1, where their
attractions tend to draw a and h towards them in the direc-
tions shown by the arrows. The result of these disturbing
influences is to sway the rod r ?•' from what had been its
position of rest, when undisturbed, to some new position of
rest, as n n' or m m', about which it oscillates as before.

The processes of observation are as follows : First, the
time of oscillation of the undisturbed rod Ls noted, to
ascertain the force of torsion which has to be overcome to
produce a given displacement. Then, the large globes being
brought up to such positions as A and B, their distance

* See Knowledge for February 1, 1S84 (vol. v.), p. 71, for an
account of the simple process to be followed in all such cases.

from the positions of rest of a and b when these were
undisturbed is carefully measured, and the new position of
re.st taken up by « and b is ascertained, the times of
oscillation being noted throughout, so that any change in
the torsion may be recognised and taken into account. This
having been done, the globes A and B are removed to the
mean positions M, M', and the balls a and b are allowed to
return to their position of rest. Then the globes A and B
are carried round in the same direction until A is close by b
on the left, and B close by a on the right, when their
attractions tend to displace a and b in directions contrary to
those shown by the arrows : the position of rest of the rod
r >■' is next ascertained (the times of observation being
throughout carefully noted) as before. From these observa-
tions, the attractions of the globes A and B on the balls a
and b (or b and a) can be determined, since the times of
oscillation indicate the torsion, and the position of rest
determines how much of the torsion is overcome by the
globes' attraction. By calculating next what the attraction
of either globe would be if, instead of being at its measured
distance from the neighbouring ball, it were at the earth's
centre, and comparing this with the known attraction of the
whole earth, we can ascertain how much the whole mass of
the earth exceeds the known mass of the leaden globes : in
other words, we can ascertain the mass of the earth, and

Fig.

.,.-•' M'

1. — Illustrating the Principle of the Cavendish
Experiment. (Baili/.)

therefore — its volume being known — we can determine its
mean density.

Cavendish, near the end of last century (" Phil. Trans.,"
1 798). applied this method in a form somewhat simpler than
that described, but depending practically on the same prin-
ciples, deducing a mean terrestrial density of 548. Hutton,
re-examining C'avendi.sh's experiments, reduced the deduced
density to 5 32 ; but many prefer Cavendish's own treatment
of his observations.

The experiments made by Cavendish were not very
numerous, neither were those of Reich, of Freiberg, who in
1838 deduced by the .same method a mean terrestrial density
of 5 '44. We must attach much more weight to the ex-
periments made by Francis Baily in 1838-42, since they
were not only conducted with singular care and caution,
but were obtained in many diflerent ways (though, of course,
all by the same general method) and by a ver}- large number
of experiments. It will be well to give a few details respect-
ing Baily's work, that the trustworthiness of his estimate
of the earth's weight may be fully recognised.

The rod rr', fig. 1, of 6.'f feet long, was of light wood (in
nearly all the experiments), and was suspended in various
ways in the different experiments, viz., on single copper wire
•0178 inch and '0219 inch in diameter; on two parallel iron
wires 0'177 inch, 0367 inch, and 0'415 inch apart; on two
brass wires 0-380 inch and 0'415 inch apart ; and on two
silk fibres 0177 inch, 0-307 inch, 0380 inch, and 0-415 inch
apart. At the ends of the rod were attached balls of dif-

152

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

ferent material and size in diffe:-ent experiments, viz , H-inch
platinum, 2-inch ivory, 2. inch glass, 2-inch zinc, 2-inch lead,
2.Viuch lead, and 2.\-inch brass. In a small number of
experiments (fifty-six) the wooden rod was replaced by a
brass rod without balls. The torsion rod and its suspension
were enclosed in a case with a glass at one end. The devices
by which the effects of electricity, magnetism, radiation, and
other disturbing iniiuences were as far as possible eliminated
need not be described, u9r the multitudinous experiments
considered by which explanations of irregular discordances
were sought for or corrections introduced. Nor is it neces-
isary to describe or picture Baily's instrument either as a
whole or in detail — the general principle of liis method,
already sufficient!}' explained, being all that ij wanted and
all that the student really needs to understand. Let it
suffice to note that the experiments for the correction and
explanation of discordances were more numerous than those
actually employed for the determination of the earth's mean
density.

The experiments thus used amounted in all to 753. Of
these, however, 5(i, above-mentioned, when only a brass rod
was used, were not seriously intended for the determination
of the earth's mean density. They are well described by
De Morgan as " a defiance to the apparatus to fail if it
could." Yet they indicated a mean density below (5 — a
result much nearer the truth than the Harton Colliery
experiments had given, costly and complicated though they
were. The remaining G97 experiments gave results ranging
from 5") to •5'8-t7. The mean value deduced by Baily (due
weight being given to each set of experiments) was 5'G6.

Cornu, in 1872, applying the same method with improve-
ments suggested by recent scientific developments, obtained
the value 5'56. He did still better work in applying to the
more numerous experiments of Baily, as recorded, correc-
tions justified by recent physical discoveries. He found
that as thus corrected Baily's elaborate and beautiful
experiments indicated a mean earth-density of 5 '55.

The following table presents the results of the application
of Michell's method : —

Cavendish 5--I8

„ (revised by Hattcn) . . . -. .5 32

Reich . . . " .5-44

Uaily .5Gli

„ (revised by Cornu) 5 S.5

Cornu . . " .■; 56

Mean .5-51

The trua mean value of the experiments made by this
method, due weight being given to each result, and Cornu's
revision of Baily's experiments being accepted, is so near
■5-55, that this may fairly be taken to represent the most
probable mean density of the earth, the error being probably
not more than 05 — in other words, the density of the earth
probably lies between 5 5 and 5 6.

Taking the eai'th's mean density at 5 '55 times the density
of water, the earth's mass=59b,(J54,000,000,OUU,000,000
tons.

The earth's equatorial radius contains in round numbers
20,926,200 feet, the polar radius being . J^ less, and 35-943
cubic feet of water weigh one ton. Hence, the earth's mass,
expressed in tons,

which when duly worked out (the use of logarithms will
greatly help the reader who cares — as every reader should —
to test the calculation) gives the above value.

There is a method by which, I think, the mass of the
earth might be directly compared with that of a known mass
of lead or other heavy metal, without the difficulty arising

from the varying torsion, under varying conditions, in the
Michell method. The plan suggested (but in an unwork-
able form) by Professors Richer and Mayer, of the Berlin
Universit}-, will be readily understood from figs. 2 and 3.
A B D is a globe of lead, which might be three or four feet
in diameter, whose centre is at C. At M, the highest point
of this globe, a small .steel block is set, on which rests the
knife-edge c of a balance a c h. The large globe A B D is
pierced along the vertical directions AD and BE, imme-
diately under the extremities n and h of the baUvnce-arms
c a and c b, in such sort that the balance can be u.sed to
weigh bodies either above A B or below D E, or one above
A B and the other below I) E, as in the case illustrated in
fig. 2, where a weight lu above A is weighed against a

(t)- s>,

Fifj. 2. Ilhistrating a plan suggosted for weighing the earth
directlj- against a globe of heavy metah

weight w' below E. Fig. 3 .shows the balance on a larger
scale, and illustrates the arrangement suggested as best for
applying the weights. Immediately above the centre-
piece c (the knife-edge of which rests on the liorizontal
surface k I at e) is a thin ])late of polished steel which, when
the balance is level, has its plane at right angles to the then
horizontal direction a b. A horizontal beam of light from
a distant source, situate either on the left or on the right of
the apparatus as pictured, falls on this steel mirror, and
when the balance beam is level returns after reflexion upon
its horizontal track, but when the beam is inclined the
return ray is inclined to the horizon. Thus the reflected
ray ]iractically serves as a very long index by which to
measure the deflection of the balance. [In the actual
experiments the light could be sent out and received as in
the observations for determining the velocity of light by
Fizeau's and Wheatstone's methods.] Two weights exactly
equal and similar suffice for all the experiments, but pre-
ferably four sliould be provided, so that in any set of experi-
ments there need be no occasion to transfer a weight from
above the large globe to below or via versA. It would be
desirable also that sets of weights of different materials
should be employed, so that diversities depending on the
physical qualities or inter-relations of different substances
might be eliminated. The weight-holders are shown in
fig. 3 at ;), q, J) , and q . Their construction should be such
that with the least amount of disturbance a weight, such as
is shown at fi and 5', may be added, removed, or transferred,
as the experiments proceed. The scale-pans and weights
should depend from knife-edges at a and h, in tlie usual way
where delicate weighing is required.

The method of the experiments is as follows in a case
where a full set of four weights is employed : —

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

153

All the four weights to be used in a given set of experi-
ments are to be first cai-efully weighed against each other, in
pairs, above A B and below D E. every pau- being thus
tested, each weight in each test being put on one side of M
in one trial and on the other side in another, and the indica-
tions of the long light-pointer cai-efully noted in each of the
twenty-four trials thus made. [Six pairs of weights can be
selected from the four ; and taking any pair, v: and vj' , these
can bo weighed against each other in two ways in the upper
weight-holders, and in two ways in the lower, or four ways
in all. Thus twenty-four weighings must be made to
eliminate all errors arising from differences — however
minute — between the weights.] Next each pair of weights
must be balanced against each other, one being above and
the other below. One such trial is illustrated in iig. 2.
The weight w above A, which should exactly balance the
weight w' set in the scale-holder above B, will not balance

here:. ON THESCALEOF THIS FIGURE. A
WRTICk. DISTANCE OF ABOUT 13 INCHES IfJTERVENEi

Fig. 3.

w' set^below E. For while each is drawn downwards with
equarforce by the earth's mass — or with only such minute
and calculable difterence as results from the distance of w
from the earth's centre being greater than the distance of
w' — to is drawn towards C, or downwards, by the attraction
of the great globe A BD, while w' is drawn towards C, or
upivards, by the same attraction. The amount of deflection,
as indicated by the light-pointer, is to be carefully noted ;
then the weight iv is to be transferred to B and the weight w'
to D, when an opposite deflection will take place, which is
to be similarly noted. Next the two experiments are
to be repeated, the weight iv' being above and the
weight w below. Corresponding experiments are to be
made with each of the six pairs of weights which can be
formed out of the four. The mean of the observed de-
flections compared with the mean of the twenty-four pre-
ceding observations (in all of which the beam is approximately
horizontal) will supply the means of compax-ing the attrac-
tion of the earth with the atti-action of the globe A B D.
Of course many details must be taken into account : as, the
weight of the wires or cords along A D and B E ; the
angles such as C tn D and C iv'B when w and lu' are in
equilibrium ; the difference of the distances of w and w'
from the earth's centre ; and the like. But all such matters
are readiU' calculable from the original data and the indica-
tions of the ray- index.

Here is a rough calculation of the effects we may expect
to recognise in such experiments : —

Supposing the globe A B D to be of lead, and therefore of
twice the mean density of the earth, and i feet in diameter,
its mass compared with that of the eai-th is as 2(2)^ to
(10,500,000)3; but the weights w and to', neglecting theii-
distance from the surface of the large globe and from the
vertiaxl diameter, are only 2 feet from the centre of the
globe, while they are 10,500,000 feet from the centre of the
eai-th. On this account the attraction of the globe is greater
than the attraction of the e<xrth as (10,500,000)- is greater
than (2)2 ; and since the attraction of the globe is exerted
upwartls on one weight and downwards on the other, we
must regard it as doubled, and this doubled attmction as
practiailly again doubled by the interchange of the ends of
the balance from which the upper and lower weights are
severally suspended. It follows that while the attraction of
the upper globe, so far as it depends on mass, is less than
the earth's in the ratio

2 (2-') to (10,500,000)*
it is increased, through the diminution of distance and the
adjustment and interchange of the weights, in the ratio

4(10,500,000)= to (2)2.
Hence, finally, the eflect of the leaden globe's pull,
quadi-upled as in the experiments, bears to the effect of the
earth's pull the ratio compounded of these two, viz., the
ratio

1(5 to 10,500,000.
So that if our balance, with its ray-index, is delicate enough
to measure a difterence of weights amounting to about
s-suWij of tli^ weight used, we may expect this plan to
afford a direct, and in that respect satisfactory, comparison
between the mass of the earth and that of a globe of known
size and den.'^ity.

[It might seem as though the shght difference of distance
of the two small weights from the earth's centre might be
neglected. Lord Brougham incurred some just ridicule for
the rather strange mistake of asserting that a man can
carry a weight more easily over his shoulder than in his
hand, because in the former position the weight is farther
from the earth's centre. But in delicate experiments such
as we are considering in the text, the difference due even to
a few feet of distance must be taken into account. Thus,
suppose A C to be 2 feet, or iv rather more than -1 feet
farther from the earth's centre than w' ; then, since the
eai'th's radius contains in round numbers 21 millions of feet,
we may take c/ to be -jij (Toinru nearer the earth's centre than
w, by which difference the attraction of the earth on lo' is
increased by ^-suonos V^^'^' This, though minute, is appre-
ciable, even considerable, in relation to the quantities we
are de;iling with in these experiments.]

ELECTRIC LAMPS FOR COAL MINES.

By Wm. Lant Carpenter.

X an article on miners' lamps and colliery
explosions in the April number of Kxow-
LEDcE, Mr. W. Mattieu Williams alludes at
the end in veiy brief terms to the electric
lighting of mines. This may be, and is, done
in two ways. In some cases the main thorough-
fares, and many of the branch ones, are lighted
by glow lamps, which are {)erniaiieully fixed, and supplied
with current from a dynamo machine, sometimes above, and
sometimes underground, driven usually by a steam-engine.
The greatest progress made lately, however, is in the con-
struction of portable lamps, containing either primary

154

^ KNOVV-LEDGE ♦

[Mat 1, 1888.

batteries or small accumulators. The weight of several
patterns of these scarcely, if at all, exceeds the weight of some
patterns of oil lamps at present in use. They give a light
for at least twelve hours without any attention, exceeding
in intensity that of the ordinary oil lamp, and they can be
placed in rewy position, so as to illumine the roof, the floor,
or the sidfs of the mine, wherever the coal is being " got."
In fact it has been objected that they give too much light,
and that miners who use them are liable to be frightened
when they see the risks they run ! The incandescent fila-
ment is doubly protected, first by its own globe, secondly
by a very strong glass cap, and sometimes there is water
between them, as a precautionary measure. I entirely
demur, however, to Mr. Williams's statement that " the
breaking of the glass bulb of an incandescent lamp would
expose a filament of burning carbon nearly as dangerous as
a flame," and I venture to think that if Mr. Williams bad
tried to explode a mixture of fire-damp and air by breaking
such a lamp in it, he would have found it a much more
diflicult task than he imagines. As a matter of fact, the
filaments used in these small lamps are so minute, that even
if they escape being quenched by the water (supposing that
to be present) there are only very few explosive mixtures
which they can be made to fire. Mr. Williams's last
objection, that " their woi-st defect is the absence of warning
which is given by the behaviour of the common lamp
flame," was met more than a year ago by Mr. J. W. Swan
(formerly of Newcastle), with whose lamp I am tolerably
familiar. To this lamp a most ingenious firedamp indicator
is attached, which not only gives warning, but enables the
overman, or even the trained miner himself, to ascertain, by
an observation lasting only a few seconds, how much (within
0'5 per cent.) firedamp is present in the atmosphere at the
moment of observing.

The question of comparative cost can, of course, only be
arrived at by the use of these lamps on as large a scale as oil
lamps are now used, in some large well-managed mine. As
some thousands of these lamps are coming into use, we may
shortly expect some reliable data on this point. I may
conclude by pointing out that, in the case of those lamps run
by poi table accumulators, the process corresponding to lamp
trimming is of the simplest possible description. In the
base of each lamp are two tiny sockets ; when the lamps are
handed in at the end of the shift's work, the sockets of each
one are fitted on to a pair of wires projecting from a board
on which hundreds of such lamps may be placed. These
wires are in connection with the terminals of a dynamo, and
thus, while the minere are above ground, one engineer
charges the whole of them, while his engine is probably
doing other work as well. Can anything be simpler ]

DISEASE GERMS.

lONE of the results of modern scientific
research are more interesting than the dis-
coveries relating to disease germs. Apart
from the relation of these discovei-ies to the
disetises which affect humanity, they are of
intei'est as disclosing to us a world of minute
life, of which in former ages men had
scarcely even any conception. They regai-ded plague and
pestilence as specially appointed visitations, not as obeying
laws as strict, though (even now) by no means so well
understood, as those regidating the development of the
higher forms of animal or of vegetable life. Possibly some
of those who are anxious to find constantly fresh proof of
the truth of the saying that there is nothing new under the

sun, may consider that the modern theory of living death
germs is embodied in the sixth verse of the ninety-first Psalm,
where (following the Prayer-book version) we are told of the
" pestilence that walketh in darkness," and ihe " sickness
that destroyeth in the noon-day," but, on the whole, such
an interpretiition must be regarded as far-fetched ; and,
certainly, so far as definite statements are concerned, the
theory of poison germs must be regarded as less than a
century old. Within that time one disease after another
has come to be regarded as resulting from the development
of invisible germs by a process something akin to fermenta-
tion, sometimes more suggestive of algoid life.

I do not propose to do more than touch here the general
theory of disease germs, considering more fully only the
evidence we have of the possibility, in certain cases, of
developing innocuous germs from those which produce
destructive diseases.

At the outset I would touch on the curious question
whether a process akin to natural selection in the germ
world may not modify the character of these germs in ways
resembling those which have been adopted for their artificial
modification. The various forms of life represented by these
minute organisms have their stages of development like
the higher forms of life, but lasting a much shorter time,
so that within a very short portion of the life even of an
individual man, hundreds of generations of germ-life may
pass. Again, the lives of these germs doubtless depend on
their environment ; and the various species so undergo
during the course of many generations changes akin to
those which afl'ect (in many generations of their much
longer lives) the higher orders of life, animal and vegetable.
Hence, during the lifetime of an individual, and far more
during several generations (as we measure time) the character
of the disease germs to which small pox, typhus fever,
scarlet fever, measles, and other such zymotic diseases are
due, may undergo marked alteration. We could thus under-
stand the more or less deadly character of such diseases in
particular yeare, and also in particular regions. We can
also understand that some of the diseases of ancient times
which seem to have disappeared may in reality be repre-
sented by diseases of the present day which resemble them
in certain respects, but are nevertheless distinct diseases,
and in particular difler markedly in destructiveness.

For example, the plague, as known in Europe only two
centuries ago, has certainly no modern representative in the
countries where it was once so greatly feared — if it exists
anywhere. What is to-day called " the plague " in Oriental
countries is a difterent disease. Yet there are reasons for
believing that our typhus fever is in reality akin to the
" black death " of old times. The story is well authenticated
which tells how in the place where certain victims of the
great plague of 1665 were buried, death and disease lurked
in wait, and nearly two centuries later found victims among
workmen employed to dig in the place where a pit had
been prepared for the corpses too numerous to be buried in
separate graves. But the illness which fell upon four of
these workmen, and on seventy others who contracted it
from them, was not the plague but simply typhus fever.
Assuming, as we may faii-ly do, that the germs of the plague
disease caused the fever which attacked these nineteenth
century workmen, we have evidence that the typhus fever
of our time is the direct descendant of the plague of former
ages. For, as Miss Florence Nightingale neatly put the
problem of the propagation of disease, small-pox can no
more generate scarlet fever, or scarlet fever measles, than a
race of dogs can produce a race of cats, or a race of cats a
race of rabbits. Typhus, generated by germs of the plague
disease, indicates clearly the kinship of the two diseases,
distinct though they now seem.

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOAATLEDGE ♦

155

The evidence is not quite so clear in tbe case of vaccinia
and small-pox ; since it has not yet been demonstrated that
protection against a particular disease can only be given by
passing through a disease actually akin to it. It might be
argued that as the particuhxr effects of quinine which give
protection ;if:ainst malaria argue no kinship between malaria
and the action of quinine, so the protective influence of
vaccine inoculation does not necessaiily prove that the
germs which produce vaccinia (the disease, if so it can be
called, following vaccination), are the same in species as
those which produce small-pox.

Still, in the light of recent evidence respecting zymotic
diseases and germ diseases generally, it m.ay be regarded as
practically certain that tlie disease germs of vaccinia are the
direct descendants of small-pox germs, which, during their
residence in the heifer have undergone a certain modification
rendering them innocuous ; while, nevertlieless, introduced
into the blood of the human body, they produce that par-
ticular change which results in what we call " protection "
against small-pox. This heing so, it may be regarded as
probable that in the case of any other disease known to be
produced by germs, methods of cultivation may be discovered
by which the disease germs may be so cultivated as to lose
their fatal power, while generating a disease sufficiently
akin to the more dangerous illness to render the patient
safe thereafter or for a while against its influence. So that,
as I pointed out several years since, when as yet such
expectations were regai-ded as fanciful, typhus, scarlet fever,
diphtheria, and a host of other ailments, which are known
to be due to the presence of living organisms in the blood or
tissues, may be treated as we now ti'eat small-pox.

I may touch here on tlie ideas of that troublesome and foolLsh
class of per.sons who eill themselve.s " an ti- vaccinationists."
The strict action of the vaccination laws in England — a
country whose people have by no means been disciplined into
such strict obedience to Government control as continental
nations — has excited opposition, not only from persons who
recogni.se the mischief of undue interference with the people,
but also from those who are too ignorant to be aipable of
appreciating the evidence respecting the protective influence
of vaccination. A Herbert Spencer may reasonably object
to laws forcing the unwiser and emphatically least valu-
able portion of the population to protect themselves against
disease and death. But such objections to compulsory
vaccination are not to be confounded with the idiocies of
the Anti- Vaccination TiCague. Those who object to com-
pulsory vaccination qud compulsory, are among those who
recogni.se most clearly the protective influence of vaccination.
But inasmuch as this protection is open to all, and will
be taken advantage of by the most sensible, while the
spread of small-pox from the foolish sort who will not seek
this protection, can always be prevented by renewed vaccina-
tion among the rest, it is evident that compulsory vaccina-
tion tends to preserve the unwise opponents of vaccination —
a decidedly mi.schievous result considered in itself. The
very fulness of a man's appreciation of the value of vaccina-
tion as a protective against small-pox, may conceivably
lead to his objection to compul.sory vaccination. It by no
means follows that a man does not approve of a good thing
because he is unwilling that every one should be compelled
to partake of it ; often quite the contrary, in fact.

It ought to be unnfce,<sary to cite evidence of the pro-
tective influence of vaccination, but I may here note two
cases which seem to me singularly striking : —

1. Zurich Canton. Thelawof compulsory vaccination was
repealed in 188.3. Official returns recently published by
Professor Dunant, enable us to judge how many of the
more foolish sort (unfortunately, theii' babes for the most
part, but in such questions we must consider the class not

the individuals) would have been preserved had the law
been left unchanged. The death rates from small-pox
between 1881 and April 1886, were as follows : — ■

Date. Deaths.

1S81 7

1882 0

1883 . . 0

1884 11

1885 73

First quarter of 1886 85

2. In Germany vaccination is compulsory ; in France it
is not. Now, Dr. Ja,ssen points out among many other
striking examples of the efficacy of vaccination that during
the year 1885, in twenty-one towns in Germany, having an
aggregate population of 4,000,000, the deaths from small-
pox numbered twentj'-seven ; in fifteen French towns,
having the same aggregate population, the deaths from
small-pox amounted to 866.

The significance of such results, which might be almost
indefinitely multiplied, will be recognised still more clearly
when we remember that deaths from small-pox are far from
being the worst results of an epidemic of the disease.

It is noteworthy that men who seem careless about
applying the protective influence of vaccination to their own
families show a marked zeal in seizing at any protection for
tlieir cattle which kindred methods may provide. Tiius,
though Pasteur's researches into the terribly destructive
disease known as splenic fever (sometimes called anthrax or
charbon), were at first ridiculed and his conclusions opposed,
the proprietors of flocks and herds agreed with admirable
unanimity in accepting his means of protection as soon as
the validity of his system had been demonstrated. The
history of anthrax is instructive. The disea,se resembles the
black plague in its action and in the rapidity with which its
effects are developed. In bad cases death occurs in twenty-
four hours. Where the disease is very prevalent proprietors
have been ruined by the entire destruction of their flocks
and herds. Between the years 1867 and 1870 no less than
50,000 deaths occurred among horees, cattle, and sheep in
the district of Novgorod, in Russia, while 568 human beings
perished to whom the disease had been in various ways
communicated.

Pasteur's inquiries into the development of anthrax were
characterised by the same combined patience, ingenuity, and
keenness which he had shown in his researches into pebrine,
the silkworm disease. So soon as he had recognised the
true nature of the anthrax bacillus he studied methods for
cultivating it so as to mitigate its poisonous effects. His
method consisted (or rather consists) in cultivating the
bacillus in meat-juice or chicken-broth, to which air has
access but not dust. A certain time is allowed to elapse
before it is employed for inoculation. If this period does
not exceed two months the virulence of the bacillus is little
diminished ; but if it is extended to three or four months,
the disease produced by inoculation is less severe and a
considerable proportion recover ; if the time is prolonged to
eight months the disease produced by the bacillus is so mild
that none of the inoculated animals perish, all quickly
regaining full health and vigour, while all are safe, for at
least a considerable period, from the deadly attacks of the
veritable anthi-ax.

It was not until a crucial series of experiments (such as
cannot be made when human beings are in question) had
been carried out, that Piisteur's system of treatment was
adopted. A flock of fifty sheep was at his disposal. He
vaccinated (to use a convenient if not quite correct ex-
pression'! twenty-five of these with the cultivated anthrax
poison, repeating the operation a fortnight later. All the
animals thus treated passed through a slight illness, but at
the end of the month were as well as the remaining twenty-

156

♦ KNOWLKDGE ♦

[Mat 1, 1888.

five. He now inoculated all fifty with the strongest anthrax
poison, predicting that within twenty-four hours, or before
six o'clock the next day, the twenty-five whicli were inocu-
lated for the first time would all be dead, while the others
would be perfectly well. A large number of cattle pro-
prietors, veterinary surgeons, cavalry officers, and others
interested in animals, gathered next day on the field where
were the subjects of the experiment. At two o'clock
twenty-three of the unprotected sheep were dead ; the
twenty-fourth died at three ; the twenty-fifth at four. But
the twenty-five vaccinated sheep were all in perfectly good
condition. One of them, who had been purposely inocu-
lated with an extra dose of the poison, had been slightly
indisposed for a few hours, but he was now as well as the
rest.

It is hai'dly necessary to say that the experiment was
regarded as decisive. Cattle owners needed no persuasion
to induce them to adopt Pasteur's system.

Pasteur's researches in regard to hydrophobia are in some
respects still more interesting, because they relate to a
malady which is derived directly from external matter, not
prop.agated from disease germs. It would not be possible
to describe here the way in which Pasteur dealt with the
original inquiry into the part microljes play in this terrible
malady ; or to discuss the various processes which he tried
for cultivating the hydi'ophobie microbe into a form which
should be innocuous yet protective. All the world now
knows that he has succeeded. In case protection cannot be
secured by a single inoculation, as with small-pox and
anthrax, a series of inoculations have to be performed, each
more stringent, so to speak, than the preceding, until at last
the inoculations are such as woiild kill a patient not pre-
pared by previous inoculations.

The difficulty in cases of hydrophobia, so far as inocula-
tory cure is concerned, is that the full poison has been
already received by the system, may even have been at work
for many days, before the milder forms of the poison are
injected. It might well have been supposed that the fatal
first-comer would be first in its action, and therefore death
inevitable. Probably Pasteur had little liope at the
beginning of his researches that he could cure the bitten,
expecting only to protect the unbitten. But it turned out
otherwise. Pasteur's system may be regarded as now a
demonstrated success. "The proportion of deaths among the
cases dealt with has been so much smaller than among
similar numbers not protected by Pasteur's method as to
assure us of the protective value of his system even at this
early stage of its adoption ; while the cases in which the
system has failed have been without exception such as from
the beginning presented small room for hope, the bites being
exceptionally severe, or on the head, or by mad wolves, and
the interval before the protective system was employed being
unduly long. Professor Ray Lankester correctly presented
the results of Pasteur's work when he said that " unless we
assume falsehood, such as for wickedness and folly would
scarcely ever have been equalled, we must recognise Pasteur
as having obtained results which of themselves will for ever
place him high among the benefactors of the human race."

Lockjaw, though it is usually the result of wounds given
by substances not likely to convey disease germs into the
system, is beginning to be recognised as due to microbes
already existing in the blood, and made actively mis-
chievous by local intiammation around the wound, generally
lacerated, which is the original cause of the trouble.
Whether any method of ti-eatment will hereafter be sug-
gested by this discovery, should it be eventually demonstrated
to be real, remains to be seen.

We are justified in believing that as protection has
already been found against some germ diseases by taking

advantage of naturally cultivated (and mitigated) germs as
in the case of small-pox, or of artificially cultivated germs
as in the case of anthrax, so protection may be obtained
against cholera, diphtheria, typhus, scarlet fever, and other
more or less destructive diseases which have been clearly
shown to be due to specific disease germs.

FAIRIES, ELVES, AND DWARFS.

By Stella Occidens (Mary Peoctoe).

Like that PygmiBan race
Beyond the Indian mount, or fairy elves
Whose midnight revels by a forest side
Or fountain some belated peasant sees
(Or dreams ho pees), while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale course ; they on their mirth and dance
Intent, with jocund music charm his ear.
At once with joy and fear his heart reboun'"''s.

Paradise Lost.

LVES and dwarfs, though minute in them-
selves, yet form a prominent part in the
folk-lore of Europe, and many wondrous
legends concerning these beings have been
lianded from ages down ; a nurse's tale,
Which children open-eyed and mouth'd devour.
And thus, as garrulous ignorance relates.
We learn it and believe.

In Scandinavian mythology Alfheim is the home of the
light elves, who are fairer than the sun, and about whom
we hear very little. The dark elves live underground in
Svartalfaheim, and are blacker than pitch. They are full
of mischief, but can be good-natured little beings when they
wish. Their sooty appearance is explained by the flict that
they work in the mines underground, and forge metals
which are found in the caves and mountains. These dwarfs,
it is supposed, are very skilful in metal-work, and also in
magic, on which account they are greatly feared by the
peasants, who dare not provoke them. ]\Iany years ago
the dwarfs had a great conflict with superior beings, and
being defeated, were compelled to dwell in the caves and
underground. From other accounts we read that they were
formerly a race of Oriental Lapps, who immigrated into
Sweden and Norway later than the Finns, who were the
descendants of the giants, and are therefore the oldest of the
races that now occupy Scandinavia.

The dwarfs who dwell in the mountains are reported to
own vast treasures of gold and silver, whilst the chambers
of their palaces are supported by jasper columns, and the
walls glisten with crystals and precious stones. In foct,
these little beings have been actually seen pushing large
chests full of gold and silver from one hill to another, in
preparation for one of the grand entertainments they often
have among themselves. They do not like noise, and it is
supposed that their almost total disappearance from the
country is due to the ringing of church bells. The elves
or hill-people are an entirely diff'erent race, though they
also live in mountains and caves, aie very rich, and have a
great dislike for noise. They do not work in the mines,
but love music and dancing. They are commonly called
huMrefolk, and their music is called hukheslmit. On
summer nights, when the moon is shining, they can be
heard on the elfin hills, and those who have been fortunate
enough to hear them say that their music is mournful and
chanted in a minor key. If a word should be spoken
during their song, it will be turned into w.ailing, as by this
their hope of salvation is destroyed. The peasants believe
that these beings contain the souls of the departed who
thus expiate their sins on earth. Some of the Norse fiddlera

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

157

have learned the hulJreslaut by listening carefully, and a
few can play the elf-king's tune, which is so magical in its
power that all who hear it, and even inanimate objects, are
compelled to dance. The unfortunate fiddler must continue
playing uotil he can play the air backwards, or someone
comes behind and cuts the strings of his fiddle.* The
Stromkarls are so musical that trees dance and waterfolls cease
flowing, to listen to the enchanting strains of their music.

The nisses, who also belong to the dwarf family, resemble
the German koholds and the Scotch brownies. The}' render
great services to thrifty housewives, who often find all their
work done for them in the morning. Unlucky is the house
which is not favoured by their presence. They usually dress
in grey, and wear a pointed cap.

Sometimes the Northern dwarfs called on their neighboui-s
in Denmark. We read about the old goblin king of the
Dovrefeld, who visited the Danish elfin king, and in whose
honour a grand banquet was given. The most select were
invited, and the will-of-the-wisps lighted them on their way.
Some mi.schievous little imps led them into bogs, but those
were principally the church-dwarfs [I trust nothing incon-
sistent with due respect for the Church is here intended. —
R.P.] or the night ravens, who were not very welcome at
any time. Grand preparations were made for the reception
of the king, and the palace was gorgeously decorated with
gold and silver, which glistened in the moonlight with which
the floor was bathed. The fairy elves were clad in gauzy
raiment of moonshine and mist, and they shivered, as the
king from the North, with his ice crown, and the icicles
hanging from his beard, drew near. We are told that ho
was enchanted with the dancing of the Danish king's
youngest daughter, and returned with her to Norway.t

The Russian dwarfs are not quite so pleasant to deal with,
being malicious and spiteful. They are called l^'uhij, or
wood-demons, which does not sound promising. The follow-
ing legend is an instance of their evil habit of stealing. Once
upon a time a fair maiden went for a stroll in the woods,
without her father's permission, and lost her way. She was
not seen again for three years, when a hunter passing
through the forest, also lost his way. He looked around
him to discover where he was, when he spied a little
moujik sitting on a log, plaiting a shoe. The strange little
being kept looking at the moon, saying —
" Shine, shine, O bright moon I "

The hunter gazed in wonder at the little mortal, who,
though only two or three spans high, was as grey as an old
man. But the dwarf read his thoughts.

" Grey am I," said he, " being the devil's grandfather."
The hunter then recognised in him a wood-demon, .and
taking aim, he shot at him. The moujik was wounded, but
managed to crawl home. The huntei- followed him till he
came to a hut in the fissure of a rock. Opening the door
he .saw a maiden standing beside the Jeahy, who was now
dead. He persuaded her to return home with him to his
village, where she was recognised as the lost one.j

A German dwarf would have fared much better than the
unfortunate little moujik, for he would have put on his
little invisible cap, and vanished before the hunter could
take aim. These elfish goblins wear a pointed red
cap, which makes them invisible whenever the}- wish.
They are very full of mi.schief, and have been known
to rob a neighbour's pea-field, using tlie peas at night
to pelt the windows of a house belonging to someone
who had annoyed them They have also been known to
st&al fair ni.aidens, and one was kept for ne,arly eight years by
an elfin king. Some of the dwarfs are very ill-shaped and

* Anderson, " Norse Mytholosy," p, 202.
t Anderson's " Fairy Tales: The Elfin Hill,"
^ Ralston, " Russian folk Tales," p. 213.

ugly, and have duck's feet. In fact, this was proved by the
good people of the little village of Arlisbach. One very
severe winter the dwarfs would come every night to a house
anil sleep on the oven, but would vanish at dawn. They
wore scarlet cloaks reaching to the ground, so that their
feet were never seen. Some prying people sprinkled ashes
in front of the house, and next morning, sure enough, the
marks of duck's feet were to be seen. The little dwarfs
were so angry at being discovered that they never came
.again, " and never will while men are so spiteful." *

The peculiarities of these dwarfs resemble the Norse.
Like them, they live in rocks and woods, are great smiths,
and forge iron and jewels. These smiths wear light gi'ey
coats and blue caps, and are often heard at night working at
the forge. The elves are also very industrious, and spin and
weave under the direction of Dame Holda. If one passes
by an elfin-hill at night, and listens carefulU', he can hear
the elves spinning and the wheels humming, and it is
supposed that the flying gossamer is spun by them. Then
there are elvas who are fond of music and dancing, and they
can be seen on the moonlit meadows, but they vanish at
dawn, leaving their footprints in the dew. They have been
known to teach people to play on the fiddle in exchange for
a grey sheep. It appears that the pupil has no chance
unless he is fat ; if he is thin he never gets bej'ond learning
to tune the fiddle. If he is fat he must practise till the
blood flows from his finger-tips ; then he can pLay such
enchanting strains that " the trees shall dance, and torrents
in their fall stand still." This melodious stromkarl loves to
linger by mills and waterfiills, and is to be seen on calm
dark evenings, when he entices people by his music, like the
Norwegian fosspfirim . t

Some of the dwarfs are supposed to have made the knot-
holes in the trees, and in Smiiland it is said an elfmeid
came into a house through a knot-hole in the wall, floating
in on a sunbeam. She was married, stayed awhile, but four
years later suddenly vanished the way she had come.

In South-East Germany many legends are told about
wild-folk, moss-folk, and wood-folk. They scamper over
mossy dales, and climb steep precipices inaccessible to
human beings. These little mannikins are old and greyish-
looking, and clothed in moss. Some are not good-natured,
.and live in the denser pai-ts of the forest. They wear
" green garments faced with red, and black three-cornered
hats," an elf-like combination. The little wood-wives often
come to woodcutters and ask them for something to eat and
drink, and in return they will render them any service in
their power.

The following is an example of the numerous legends told
about these interesting beings. It refers to the belief that
good luck would befall any one who could obtain a drinking-
horn belonging to the fairies, even apparently though the
horn were stolen. One hot summer's day Count Otho of
Oldenberg, fatigued with hunting and overcome with thirst,
threw him.self on the ground, exclaiming, " Oh, for that I
could have a drink of clear water 1 " To his surprise a
beautiful maiden stood before him, holding in her hand a
silver goblet filled to the brim with w.ater. Count Otho
drank it, but was so ungrateful as to run away with the
goblet. However, he saved himself from the evil con-
sequences which might have followed this rash act by
giving it to the Church, As the goblet was of solid silver,
and handsomely carved with delicate tracery in the Gothic
style, it was a valuable gift. Perhaps the Count's account
of the way in which he came into pos,ses^ion of this piece of
silver was not so strictly truthful as might be wished.

* Grimm's "Teutonic Mythology," p, 451, vol, ii,
f Ibid., p. 493, vol. ii.

158

KNO^ATLEDGE

[May 1, 1888.

NEVADA'S WALTZING GIANTS.

||UT in Nevada," said a mining man from

White Pine, " we liave the sublimest dance

that any man ever saw. We call it ' the

dance of the giants.' Great cylinders of

iK'^Wi^'^jRI ^^^^t from eight to twenty feet in diameter,

iiY^B^aMll ^^'^ sometimes immensely tall, come

' ' cai'eering acro.ss the desert with a whirling,

waltzing motion that is very graceful. I have often seen
them when they must have been two or three miles high,
for their tops reached into the clouds. But oftener there
will be one big column, with a lot of little columns attend-
ing it, all waltzing together. The eflFect is the strangest
thing imaginable. It is both sublime and grotesque. It
inspires you with awe, and at the .same time fills you with
the desire to laugh at the odd performance. And, if the
man is superstitious, the weird, fantastic sight can make
him I'eel mighty uncomfortable.

" They are never seen except in the summer time, and are
most frequent in July. They have their beginning in some
incipient whirlwind, which snatches up a handful of sand
while the surrounding air is still, and then they keep on
growing and moving onward.

" They are not like the cyclones farther east, ibr they
move with very little noise, and, instead of being funnel-
shaped, are of the same size from toji to bottom. The motion
is the same, being both circular and advancing. They draw
up into the cylinder fabulous quantities of sand, tons of
sage-brush, and sometimes good-sized stones.

" How far they travel nobody can tell. The very big ones
must have waltzed along in their silent majesty over the
lonely deserts for a long distance. They must travel the
whole distance of the White Pine Valley, three hundred
and fifty miles, and .sometimes they come down through
Spring Valley from Idaho to the Peranegat Valley."

THE STARS OF OTHER TIMES.

DO not think I am a very lazy man ; and in
regard to mapping and charting, I think —
though it may be sheer self-conceit — that I
have at times been exceptionally hard-working.
Probably not many thousands, or even hun-
dreds, or tens of persons have given so much as
400 hours to a single map — possibly not one
besides myself (unless I be thought somewhat beside
myself to have undertaken such a work). Therefore I am
not ashamed to explain the devices by which, when I can, T
simplify the work of charting. I will go further. I regard
the use of easy methods, when these are sufficiently accurate
for the object aimed at, as akin to the use of those abridged
processes of calculation by which the mathematician who
has sufficient experience to work confidently in such ways,
leaves out all such portions of the ordinary processes as are
not essential. The average calculator will multiply and
divide right out, extract his square roots and cube roots to
the bitter end, take out every logarithm to the seventh
figure, and determine, with like accuracy, the numbers
corresponding to his logarithm, when all he needs (nay,
perhaps, all he can at all trust) in his results may be three
or four significant figures. This really is not accuracy ; it
is blundering : it is the result not of scientific care but of
inexperience, very often in the weariness resulting from over
precision of process the calculator makes mistakes seriously
aifecting the numbers finally deduced. In like manner, in
mapping there are many devices which not only save

trouble but secure a greater accuracy than the preci.se
geometrical methods theoretically applicable to the problem.

Such is the method which I am about to describe as the
one I have employed for preparing star maps showing the
heavens at given hours and seasons, in given latitudes, at
given epochs in the past history of the human race.

Take Maps I. and II. in Knowledge for March and
April last. Having chosen an}' epoch and found the pole
for that epoch, on the circle indicating in each map the
pole's precessional path, it would be sufficiently easy to
describe in each map the circle indicating the diurnal track
of the zenith of the heavens around that pole for any given
latitude — for instance, a circle 60° from the pole for
the latitude of the Great Pyramid. It is also not difficult to
set points round a circle thus determined so that they shall
corres|)ond to hour-differences of time — that is, to divide the
circle into portions each representing 15° on the correspond-
ing circle of the sphere. To complete further the projec-
tions of the visible hemisphere corresponding to such points
as these for zenith points (i.e. centres of projection), is a suf-
ficiently simple piece of stereographic charting — theoreticalli/.
But all this work involves careful attention to the details of
the problem, some mathematical mental gymnastics, and
certain geometrical processes which require considei'able
care and some skill in the execution. Then, owing to the
unequal shrinkage of the paper, the results obtained by thus
describing circles according to the principles of the stereo-
graphic method, are not so accurate as they theoretically
ought to be.

The following is the method I actually employ in such
work : —

I lightly draw in pencil the courae of the circles of
declination and light ascension in my " School Star Atlas "
(dated 1880) among the longitude and latitude lines and
stars of Map I. I then ink them in strongly, correcting
while doing this the small irregularities affecting the light
pencilling. Next I make two tracings of these lines (really
circles and circular arcs) in red ink on tracing paper, one of
these to be used with Map I., the other with Map II.

Suppose, now, that the epoch for which I want a series of
maps like my " Half-Hours with the Stars," for England
(latitude 51i° N.), or for the United States (lati-
tude 38° N.), or for the southern hemisphere (latitude
38° S.), is that of the building of the Great Pyramid — I
first find the right position of the poles for the year 3350 B.C.,
and the corresponding crossing points of the equator of that
epoch on the ecliptic. (This, of course, requii-es only that
the right arc for 3.150-1-1,880 or 5,030 years' precession,
where the whole circuit requires 25,868 years, should be
taken on the ecliptic and on the pole's path.) Then these
three points being' marked, the prepared tracing papers are
adjusted — one over each map — so that the pole corre-
sponds with the polar point thus determined and the
equator crosses the ecliptic at the two marked points.
When the tracing papers are gummed at the edges or
corners in this position, the red circles and arcs are the
declination-parallels and hour-circles of the heavens, for the
epoch dealt with.

Now to obtain maps presenting the stellar skies of any
latitude, we draw first on any projection we please (in my
" Half-Hours " and " Seasons Pictured," I use the equi-
distant) the hour circles and declination-parallels correspond-
ing to the latitude. This, of course, is a pi-ocess depending
on familiar principles of mapping [but I may take occasion
hereafter to show how it may be conveniently effected for
any projection, when once effected for the most convenient
projection — the stereographic]. Then, having made twelve
tracings (on drawing paper preferably) of this projection,
we fill in the stars for these from Maps I. and II., the red

May 1, 1888.]

KNO^WLEDGE ♦

159

lines over which are meridians and declination-parallels
corresponding to those in our tracings, the central meridian
on each tracing being made to correspond successively with
0\ II'', IV'', &c., up to XXII'' ; or, if we care for more precise
information, we make twenty-four maps presenting the
stellar skies at hourly intervals for each night and at
bi monthly intervals round the year.

A NEW LOTTERY SWINDLE.

N all the United States, save one, lotteries ai-e
regarded as illegal. That one State, Louisiana,
professes to permit lotteries onh' for educational
or charitable purposes, which does not prevent
the State-supported lotteries of Louisiana from
being conducted on a system whose only claim
to fairness lies in the barefacedness of its unfair-
ness. It openly proclaims itself a swindle, so confident is its
trust in the folly of the majority, who will always pay ten
dollars for a five-dollars' chance of winning a gi-eat prize.
Unluckily the Louisiana Lottery leavens with its unwhole-
someuess the whole lump. In every State the advertising
of the Louisiana lottery swindle is pursued more or less
openly. The evil even reaches the old country, as I happen
to know from personal experience ; for having proclaimed
openly the iniquities of nearly all lottery schemes and the
folly of gambling generally, I am na tm-ally regarded by the
lottery scamps iis secretly hankering to try my chance. So
that from America and from the Continent, even from
Australia, invitations reach me to invest in lotteries openly
proclaimed in their own advertisements dishonest and
delusive.

In passing, I may remai-k that if I believed in luck I
should certainly be tempted to venture in some of these
lotteries ; for twice, though not from desire for gambling
gains, I have tried my luck (as the foolish ones put it) in
lotteries, and each time I have won a goodlj' prize. One
trial occurred in ilelbourne, Victoria, where 1 had been
taken round the Chinese quarter, visiting opium dens,
Chinese lottery dives, and so forth. The method of mark-
ing the Chinese lottery papers was explained to me by a
practical example ; I paid, that is to s.^}', for the right, and
made marks at random with the vermilion brush as
instructed. The rest of the company did the same. I
certainly supposed I was paying a shilling away — without
any likelihood of seeing it again — for the opportunity of
learning how the Chinese lottery men managed their little
game. But next morning the sum of 29/. was handed over
to the leader of our party, my share being 4/. 2s. 10 J. The
other case occurred at a bazaar in Boston, held in October
1873 by the Sisters of the Good Shepherd for a most
excellent purpose. I bought tickets in a raffle for a gold
watch, regarding their price as my contribution to the
charity; but next morning a gentleman cjilled in at the
Parker House with the watch, which it seems I had won.
I kept the watch, but preferred to pay the cost price, not
caring to have my charity mixed up with anything so
degrading, in my estimation, as gambling.

In England, lotteries at bazaars are still permitted, or
rather are still winked at, for, strictly speaking, the law
forbids them. Various magazines and journals also have
lotteries more or less disguised, prizes being offered to pur-
chasers of the serial who may make lucky guesses of various
sorts. The law can hardly touch these cases, since the right
to a guess is not ostensibly paid for, but thrown in, along
with the serial itself, in return for the shilling, sixpence,
twopence, or whatever the sum may be which the serial

costs. But recently the law relating to lotteries has been
broken in a singularly daring manner. A form of lottery
which has long been in vogue on the continent of Europe
(sometimes known as the Geneva system) has been reproduced
in principle, or want of principle, though the details have
been craftily altered in such sort that the system has an
innocent, parlour-pastime aspect.

In the Geneva Lottery System (considered fully in my
little book on " Chance and Luck ") there are ninety
numbers, and at a " drawing " five ai-e taken out in succes-
sion at random. The public, before the drawing, have been
entitled to buy a chance for any price, within certain limits,
which they may like to pay. Thus a purchaser may take
any one of the following chances : — (1) He names a single
number of the ninety, receiving f/teen times his stake if
his number is one aniong the five drawn; or (2) he names a
single number and the position it is to occupy among the
five di-awn, receiving seventy times his stake if his guess is
right ; or (3) he names two numbers of the ninety, receiving
two liundred and seventy times his stake if both appear
among the five drawn ; or (4) he names two numbers and
their position, receiving Awe tho^isand one huiulred times his
stake if his guess is correct ; or (.5) he names three numbers
of the ninety, receiving _/ttie thousand five hundred times his
stake if all three appear among the five drawn ; or (6) he
names four numbers of the ninety, receiving seventyfive
thousand times his stake if all four appear among the five
drawn.

These ventures are called respectively, simple number,
determinate nvimber, simple ambe, determinate ambe, simple
terne, and simple quaterne.

How much of rascality there is in the system will be
seen from the following little table, showing the prize
actually given and the prize which should have been given
in each case. If the chances were properly dealt with as in
a fail" wager between man and man : —
Table showing Prize actually given and Prize earned.

Actnal Prize.

Simple number .
Determinate number
Simple ambe
Determinate ambe
Simple terne
Simple quaterne .

Proper Prize.

18 times the stake

90 „■ „ „

400i „ „

8,010 „ „

11,M8 „ „

611,033 „ „

As the lottery-loving public always prefer to try for large
prizes, not noticing how small the chances are of getting
them, the more risky ventures in the above list were those
chiefly taken, and it will be observed that these are the
ventures for which the prizes are most inadequate. Thus,
for simple terne, the tottxl amount paid in prizes would in
the long run be less than half (f yVW) of the amount paid
in ; while for simple quaterne the total amount paid out
would be less than ^^„ of the amount paid in.

Of course the promoters of Continental lotteries on this
system carefully published every case in which a great prize
was won, knowing well that the general public would never
guess the real significance of these cases. Every venture
won on simple terne meant more than eleven thousand lost.
Every venture won on simple quaterne meant more than
five hundred thousand lost.

The recently invented plan depends on letters instead of
numbers, but in principle is precisely the same as the
Geneva system, and is worked on the same crafty and
fraudulent lines. The promoters call themselves the
" National Prize Competition Society " — the guessers are
called " competitors," be it observed — and the scheme is
advertised as "a novel system of money-making," the public
fondly imagining that they are to make the money. The

160

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

plan is this : For sixpence any one can buy a ticket mai-ked

tkus

or sets of several tickets at a slight reduction,

the average of the various prices being as neaily as possible
five pence. On receiving a ticket the victim marks in a
letter of the alphabet in each of the four divisions of his
ticket, putting in any letter he likes. (The conditions say
that any letter can be marked in in each square, so that
the same letter, if the " competitor " pleases, might be
mai'ked in more than once ; and as the " society " is simi-
larly free to mark in any letter on each square, this possi-
bihty must be taken into account in considering the value
of each probability.) The "competitor" posts his ticket,
lettered according to his guessing, on Friday, and on the
same day the " society " sends out to him by post a corre-
sponding ticket, lettered as they please, so that his guess
and their selection cross on their way.

If none of the competitor's letters correspond with the
society's letters, he simply loses his sixpence. If one letter
of his only is the same as the letter mai'ked in the same
square on the society's ticket, the competitor receives a
shilling, or twice his stake. If two letters of his correspond
with two, square for square, in the returned ticket, the com-
petitor i-eceives ten shillings. If three letters similarly cor-
respond, the competitor receives 'Al. or 5^., according to the
position of the squares thus correspondingly tilled — a dis-
tinction for which there is no real reason so far as the
probabilities are concerned : we may conveniently put \l.
as the average price paid for this triple success. Lastly, if
all four squares are rightly lettered the " competitor "
receives lOOZ.

Not one in a thousand probably of those who buy tickets
in this lottery has any clear idea of the value of his chances
for the respective prizes. The promoters of such schemes
know this, though the Louisiana Lottery schemei-s daringly
decline to clothe their iniquity, so confidently do they trust
in the general idiocy of their victims. As a matter of fact,
the calculation of the chances oflered by the " National
Prize Competition Society " is sufficiently simple. But
those among the I'eaders of these lines for whom it would
be easy could make it for themselves, and those for whom
it would not, could not easily follow any explanation ; so I
simply give the results.

Assuming the power of putting any letter whatsoever out
of our English twenty-six on each square, there are 45(),97(J
possible ways of filling in the ticket. Comparing these with
any definite ticket filled in by the society, 390,025 will be
wrong as to all letters ; G2,500 will be right as to one letter ;
3,750 wUl be right as to two letters ; 100 will be right as to
three letters; and one only will be right as to all four
letters.

To determine the extent of the swindle, suppose these
results, which represent the average proportions in any
long series of trials, all duly paid for at the rates above men-
tioned, then there will be paid out : —

G2,.">00s. for single correct letters.
37,oOOs. for two „ „

8,000s. for three „ „

2,000s. for lour

Total . lOO.oOOs. paid on prizes.
The sum paid in, at 5J. for each of the 456,976 tickets,
would be 190,407 shillings, and it is Ln this degree that the
public, in purchasing large numbers of tickets on this plan,
are wronged. That is, they pay 190,407 shillings, and get
back on tlie average only 100,000 .shillings on each set of
456,976 trials. But the promoters of the scheme have to
pay one halfpenny for each ticket issued, and charge a penny
for postage — according, at least, to their circular ; so that

they actually make 228,488 pence, or 19,041 .shillings, more,
by this seemingly slight overcharge for postage. At a
moderate computation of the expense for printing tickets,
advertising, etc., the " National Prize Competition Society "
make the usual proportion of profit on the lottery they
conduct, viz., between eighty and one hundred per cent 1
It is at this rate that the Louisiana Lottery Company get the
better of their foolish victims. The Geneva, Hamburg,
Brandenbui-g, and other lotteries, get similar gains.

The " National Prize Competition Society " advertise
their lottery scheme as " a novel system of money-making "
— and truly, in one sense. The deluded public suppose the
money-making is for them, but the society attends to that
part of the business, and, though the system is in reality
old enough, yet it has been so clothed in a new garb that it
tiikes in the weaker sort just as thoioughly as though it
were altogether new.

How it has come to pass that, as I am told, the law has
not yet stopped the " novel system of money-making," and
punished the law-breakers, I know no more than I know how
it comes to pass that respectable serials have pei'mitted the
" National Prize Competition Society" to advertise in their
columns.

THE RELIGION OF THE ANCIENT
BRITONS.*

ROFESSOK EHYS'S satirical reproach in his
preface that " of course it is not pretended
thaD anything connected with the history of
religion among the Celts — or among the
Teutons, if it comes to that — could vie in
popularity with the pedigree of the last idol
unearthed in the East, or even with the dis-
covery of a new way of spelling Nebuchadnezzar's name," is
fully warranted. For we have been indolently content to
remain in shameful ignorance concerning the question of
the religion of the races dominant in these islands before
the lloman inva.sion. Our training, both at home and school,
on Sundays as well as on week-days, has fostered this ignor-
ance. Classical studies have usurped, and still unduly usurp,
the scholar's time, as if all of value in the history of mankind
is confined to a strip of Mediterranean seaboard. Romulus
and Remus, Cecrops and Pisistratus, are f imiliar uames to
the student ; perchance he has heai'd of Arthur, but not of
Nud and Manannan MacLir. He knows the Iliad and
the Odyssey, but not the songs of Edda and the breezy,
bracing sagas, the Volsung and the Niblung, which, as
William Morris says, " should be to all our race what the
Tale of Troy was to the Greeks." And, in like manner, as
the old artificial division of history into " profane " and
" sacred " shows, instruction in the religious development of
mankind rarely, except to point a false moral or a mis-
leading contrast, passes beyond the age and races covered
by the Bible.

For the larger number of folk, the political history of
Britain begins with the invasion of Julius Ca?.sar, and its
religious history with the mission of Augustine. Out of
the material gathered by the famous emperor, as the result
of jjersonal observation, and by Tacitus, whose information
was, however, secondhand, a few sentences describing the
general features and mode of life of the " ancient Britons "
were spun, and then the story of the successive invasions
which resulted in the " making of England " was woven
according to regulation pattern. Whether the wild tribes

* " Lectures on the Oriyin and Growth of Religii.n, as illustrated
by Celtic Heathendom." Ey John Rhys, Professor of Celtic in the
University of Oxford. (Williams & Norgate: 1888.)

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

161

of the northern and western parts, and the somewhat more
advanced tribes of the southern pirts, of the island were
aborigines, and if not, whence they had come, and what
was their relation to the races overspreading the northern
hemisphere, concerning whom no written records exist ;
what remains, either tangible, as weapons of war and the
chase, or intangible, as language, legend, myth, and custom
were extant, neither historians nor antiquaries tarried to
ask. What a vast and interesting, if obscure, field they
left unexplored we are beginning to see, thanks to the
industry and zeal of Professor Rhys and kindred labourers.
The old indifference and ignorance, due not only to defects
of educjition just referred to, but also to the delusion that
" when Britain first at Heaven's command arose from out
the azure main,'' she succeeded to the spiritual lordship and
pi-ivileges which the Jews had forfeited,* and appeared
equipped, Minerva-like, complete in all wisdom needful to
eternal salvation, are giving place to the desire to know
whether the couree of man's progi'ess in these islands runs
parallel or not with that of other civilised races, and if so,
what evidence is supplied by survivals.

It is as a contribution to this question that Professor
Rhys's volume, in which the history of religion is for the
first time com[)reliensively treated from the Celtic point of
view, demands attention. Its somewhat late place in a.
valuable, if unequal, series itself illustrates our remarks on
the tardy recognition of the importance of ancient British
religions, but better late than never, and we will not lay
reproach at the doora of the llibbert Trustees, who are
spending their money to good purpose.

Rarely has a more obscure and tough subject been taken
in hand than this with which Professor Rhys bravely
grapples, for the materials are not only scanty and scattered,
but are often hard to interpret. They consist of a few
references in ancient writers, and of inscriptions on votive
tablets and other monuments preserved in local museums
and described in transactions of provincial societies. Draw-
ing primarily on Ciesar's account of the Gaulish religion,
which may be taken as applicable to the religion of the
British Celts, since they migrated from Gaul, Professor
Rhys has sought to identify the Gaulish with the Roman
Pantheon. He remarks that, " unfortunately for the study
of Celtic religion and philology, few of the monuments of
Gaul supply us with inscriptions in the national tongue ;
and probably all of them, whether in Gaulish or in Latin,
date after the advent of the Roman conqueror and the
initLation of his policy of assimilating the gods of vanquished
Gaul with those of Rome. This policy took a very definite
form under Augustus. He, as ponti/ex maxlmus, united
the religions of the Roman world ; but the manner in which
Africa and the E;ist were treated could not be recommended
in the case of Gaul and Spain ; so when he undertook to
restore the position of the Lnres and Penates he included
among them the Gaulish divinities, who were henceforth
styled Augusll. The result in each instance was that the
name of the Gaulish god came to be treated more or less as
a mere epithet to that of the Roman divinity, with which
he began to be regarded as identical : thus the (iaulish
Grannos became Apollo Grannus, and Belisama became
Minerva Belisama, and so in other cases. ... In a word,
the Gaulish gods and goddesses were reduced in rank, and
forced, so to say, to become more or less Roman ; but they

* A delusion of course rampant among the eccentrics who
believe in the descent of Britons from tlie lost Ten Tribes, and
wlw identify the British Lion with the Lion of the Tribe of Judali !
As showing tiie prevalence of this craze, the Catalogue in the
Subject-Index of Modern Works issued by the British JIuseum
gives thirty-two books on the identity of Britain with Israel pub-
lished between 1S82 and 1SS6.

were not banished or in any way proscribed." The search
for resemblances is justified not merely by the similar
polytheistic stage of the conquering and the conquered
races, but by their common, if remote, relationship, Celts
and Romans being members of the scattered Aryan family.
As illustrating the method adopted in this volume : when
Ctesar speaks of the Gauls as making Mercury the inventor
of arts, the patron of trades (as he was among the Romans)
and of roads and journeys. Professor Rhys cites an inscrip-
tion in which the god is described as Mercurio Aug. Artaio,
the Gallic atlix bsing cognate to the Celtic ilr, plough-land.
Again, Mars, god of war, is equated with the Gaulish god
Caturix, a compound meaning king of war or lord of battle,
tablets having been found near Geneva and elsewhere with
this inscription, Marti Catur(igi), kc. Ca;sar tells us that
Mercury was worshijjped as supreme, and the degradation
of Mars, who was once the chief Celtic god, to the third
place (Apollo being second) is, as Professor Rhys remarks,
probably due to the progress of the people in the arts
of peace.

How far the author has succeeded in his laborious
attempt none but Celtic scholars can determine ; and even
were we competent to dt^liver judgment, our readers would
resent the introduction of the abstruse and tedious matter
which this would involve. They may share our reliance on
the caution and accuracy which have thus far distinguished
Professor Rhys's investigations, and may follow him with
confidence through this labj'rinth where lurk the disguised
and disfigured gods whom our predecessors worshipped, and
who have in many cases still further eluded us by becoming
changed into the kings and heroes of romance. Certain it
is that the Celts had their departmental deities, and that
the characters of these were more or less akin to nature- gods
of other polytheistic races. Among these stand out the
Celtic Apollo, healing sun- god, Belenus, the reputed
founder of Caerleon, and from whose name some derive
Billingsgate ; Aine or Aina, queen of heaven, mother of
the gods ; Taranis, god of thunder, to whom certain trees
and plants are sacred ; Manannan MacLir, a sun-god ;
Nodens, or Nud, and his alter ego Lir, seagod, worshipped
both in Britain and Ireland. During the Roman occupa-
tion a temple was erected to Nodens at Lydney on the
Severn, his wife being the Irish goddess of the Boyne, while
Lud, whose name reappears in Shakespeare's " Lear," and
whose daughter figures in Celtic romance, perhajjs survives
among us in London, if that name be not, as some anti-
quaries think, derived from Llyn-Diu, the " lake-forfc."
Upon this Professor Rhys has the interesting remark that
" the association of Llud, or ' King Lud,' as he has come to
be called in English, with London, is apparently founded on
a certain amount of fact : one of the Welsh names for
London is Caer-Liid or Lud's Fort, and if this is open to the
suspicion of having been suggested first by Geoffrey, that
can hardly be supposed possible in the case of the English
name of Ludgate Hill. The probability is that as a temple
on a hill near the Severn associated him with that river in
the west, so a still more ambitious temple on a hill connected
him with the Thames in the east; and as an aggressive
creed can hardly signalise its conquests more eflectually than
by appropriating the f^mes of the retreating faith, no site
could be guessed with more probability to have been .sacred
to the Celtic Zeus than the eminence on which the dome of
St. Paul's now rears its magnificent form."

But besides the major gods of the Celtic Pantheon,
there is a crowd of dii mitwres, both native and borrowed,
spirits of forests, springs, and rivers, which last had their
own special divinities, as shown in the Dee and other
streams with kindred names. The mountains were dedi-
cated to airy powers; every village was protected by the

162

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

"mothers," oi' guardian spirits, who ap])ear in medifeyal
legends as the White Ladies, the three foiries, the weird
sisters, the wild women of the woods ; while in the giants
and dwarfs and the fairies and goodies of nursery legend
other minor deities reappsar. Forming a dark background
to this spritely company, we find another and older creed,
familiar to us as Druidism, concerning which the most
foolish speculations and bizarre theories have been broached.
Upon this Professor Ehys has much to .say which is of
interest, and in connection with which we advise the
perusal of his little book on" Celtic Britain,"* as also of the
chapter on the religion of the British tribes in Mr. Elton's
scholarly and delightful " Origins of English History." f
As this latter book is out of print, it may be we'l to quote
the opening sentence from Mr. Elton's fine chapter : —

The religion of the British tribes has exercised an important
influence upon literature. The medi.tval romances and the legends
which stood for history are full of the "fair humanities" and
figures of its bright mythology. The elemental powers of earth
and fire, and the spirits which haunted the wavts and streams,
appear again as kings in the Irish .annals, or as saints .and hermits
in Wales. The Knights of the Round Table, 8ir Kay and Tristram,
and the bold Sir Bedivere, betray their divine origin by the
attributes which they retained as heroes of romance. It was a
goddess, Bca quirdani j)liaiiiastica, who bore the wounded Arthur
to the peaceful valley. " There was little sunlight on its woods
and streams, and the nights were dark and gloomy for want of the
moon and stars." This is the country of Oberon and of Sir Huon
de Bonrdeaux. It is the dreamy forest of Arden. In an older
mythology it was the realm of a King of Shadows, the country of
" Gwyn ab Nudd," who rode as Kir Guyon in the " Faerie Queene,"

And knighthood took of good Sir Huon's hand.
When with King Oberon he came to Fairyland.

The history of the Celtic religions has been obscured by many false
theories which need not be discussed in detail. The tr.aces of
revealed religion were discovered by the Benedictine historians in
the doctrines attributed to the Druids; if the Gauls adored the oak-
tree, it could only be a remembrance of the plains of Mamre ; if
they slew a prisoner on a block of unhewn stone, it must have been
in deference to a precept of Moses. A school pretending to a
deeper philosophy invented for the Druids the mission of preserving
monotheism in the West. In the teaching of another school the
Druids are credited with the learning of Phrenicia and Egypt. The
mysteries of the "Thrice-great Hermes" were transported to the
northern oak-forests, and every difficulty was solved as it rose by a
reference to Baal or Moloch. The lines and circles of st.anding
stones became the signs of a worship of snakes and dragons. The
mined cromlech was mistaken for ,an altar of sacrifice with the rock
basin to catch the victim's blood and a holed-stone for the rope to
bind liis limbs.

In inquiring into the origin and nature of Druidism, it is
necessary to have a clear idea of the succession of races in
Britain prior to the Roman invasion. We may leave out
of this list the men of Paljeolithic times who ranged the
country under a more or less arctic climate, waging war
against the huge mammals of tho Quaternary epoch, and
whose chipped tools and weapons are found in the river-
drifts and under cavern floors, for it is certain that no
continuity of race can be proved between these savages
and any tribe or nation now found in Norlh-Western
Europe.

Between their disappearance and the arrival of a more
advanced race great physical changes occurred, Britain
having been submerged, then laised, reunited to the Con-
tinent, and then finally separated. But the I'ritain of
Neolithic and far later times, down to a period long
subsequent to the Roman invasion, was, in its superficial
features, not the Britain of to-day, but a land of fen and
forest, the highways through which determined the ancient
boundaries of its several kingdoms. Despite Mr. Ruskin's

* Published by S.P.C.K. London. 1882.
f London: B. Quaritch. 1882.

Jeremiads on tho degradation of the climate of England
through the blotting out of her skies with " Manchester's
devil darkness, and sulphurous chimney-pot vomit," and of
the troubling, not as by the angel at Bethesda, of her streams
with the pollution and filth of her factories, we are in much
better case now than then. When the legions of C;esar
first disembarked they found the island little better in
most parts than " a cold .and watery desert. According to
all the accounts of the early travellers the sky was stormy
and oliscured by continual rain, the air chilly even in
summer, and the sun during the finest weather had little
power to disperse the steaming mists. The trees gathered
and condensed the rain ; the crops grew rankly, but ripened
slowly, for the ground and the atmospliere were alike over-
loaded with moisture. The fallen timber obstructed the
streams, tho rivers were squandered in the reedy morasses,
and only the downs and hill-tops rose above the perpetual
tracts of wood." The herds of mammoths, rhinocero.ses, and
other pachyderms ; the cave-lions, cave-bears, hyamas, and
other beasts of prey, that had roamed through the jungles
and wallowed in the rivers during the alternating polar and
tropical climates of the Old Stone Age, had vanished, and in
their place wild boars and o.xen (the urns of Ca'sar), elks
and other animals, for the most part extinct, tenanted the
forests and swamps. Wolves prowled over the long desert
that stretched from the Cheviots to the Peak ; beavers
built in the streams ; and only the cry of the cormorant
and other sea birds broke the silence that reigned over the
expanse of peat-bog that .stretched inland on the west, over
tho swamps of the midlands, and over the dreary fens that
spread in monotonous flatness eastwards. Masses of
forest so dense as to bo in some districts impenetrable, stretch^
ing, as did the Andredsweald, one hundred and twenty miles,
with wide expanses of moor and swamp, that surrounding
the higher ground where Ely Cathedral now stands exceed-
ing sixty miles across ; narrow strips of arable, and wider
breadths of pasture land, spread over the estttaries and
across tho inland valleys — such, broadly outlined, were the
features of England from pre-Roman times till a thousand
years later, despite much that had been accomplished by the
military spirit of the Romans and the industrious energy of
the Saxons, whose work the Norman, with his passion for
the chase, undid so ruthlessly.

This description of the physical .aspect of our island
applies still more to the Neolithic age, when no Aryan
husbandman had yet struck his plough into the soil, or
burned the timber into charcoal for the smelting of tho
abundant ore. The earliest known Neolithic settlers in
Britain were a short and thickset people, with long or oval
heads, dark hair, probably swarthy complexions, .aquiline
noses, long n.arrow foreheads, and with the tibia or shiiibone
presenting in many cases that flattened, sabre-like form,
called platycnemi.a — a feature not so much indicative of
ape-like ancestry as of physical change dire to the freer and
more constant use of certain muscles which are brought into
action in hanti)ig game on foot, and such-like occupations.
These people, the Kynesii, of whom Herodotus speaks as
dwelling outside the Pillars of Hercules, furthe.st away
towards the setting of the sun, are now generally identified
with the remnants of non- Aryans known to us as Iberians,
found in various parts of Europe, descendants of the wide-
spread race whose relics — tombs, and stone circles marking
the transition from burial-place to temple — exist by thou-
sands in both hemispheres. Notable among these remn.ants
are the Basques, living in the Western Pyrenees, and speak-
ing a relatively modern language which is the sole survivor
of the Iberian family of speech, and, fo far as is known,
without affinity with .any other language in the world. But
it is obvious that unless the untenable and indolent theories

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO\VLEDGE ♦

163

of some historians respectiDg the universal extermination of
subject races in these ishinds be accepted, some traces of
such a folk are not to be confined to the Basque district,
and in proof of this we hare indications of their presence
nearer home. There are in many parts of Ireland, of the
Highlands of Scotland, and the Western Isles, traces by no
means infrequent of a short, black-haired, long-headed
stock, described as having a strange foreign look, of whom
the late Mr. Campbell of Islay, in his remarkable collection
of tales gathered orally in the West Highlands, gives a
typical example. He says, " Behind the tire sat a girl with
one of those strange foreign faces which are occasionally to
be seen in the Western Isles — a face which reminded me of
the Nineveh sculptures and of faces seen in St. Sebastian.
Her hair was as black as night, and her clear dark eyes
glittered through the peat smoke. Her complexion was
dark, and her features so unlike those who sat about her
that I asked if she were a native of the island, and learned
that she was a Highland girl." * Neither is the swarthy
type absent from England and Wales, not only in ancient
Siluria (comprising Glamorganshire, Brecknock, Monmouth,
&c.), but in some parts of East Anglia, also in the south-
west, and even in the Midland Counties, in which last, with
their traces of the predominant intiuence of the Saxon and
Danish conquerors, we might expect to find only a fair-
haired and light com plexioned folk. •■When we consider
the many invasions of strangers, and the oscillations to and
fro of difierent peoples, it is impossible not to realise the
strange persistence of the race. Through nil the troubles
which followed the conquest of Gaul by C.-esar, and of
Britain by Claudius, through all the terrible events which
accompanied the downfoll of the Roman Empire, causing
the Britons to be exterminated over a large part of England,
and the almost total extinction of the ancient type of
Roman in Italy, the Iberian lived, and still is found in his
ancient seats, with physique scarcely altered, and oflering a
strong contrast to the fair-haired Celtic, Belgic, and
German invaders. The Iberian race is known to the
ethnologist and historian merely in fragments, sundered
from each other by many invasions and settlements of the
Aryan race. It is shown b}- the researches into caves and
tombs to have been in possession of the whole of Europe
north and west of the Rhine in the Neolithic age, and has
been traced by Dr. Yirchow into Germany and Denmark." f
Next in succession to it is the Celtic immigration, the
invasion of Britain by tall, round-headed, fair-haired, large-
limbed men, bringing with them a mighty motor power in
human progress in their knowledge of the use of the metal
bronz? which they had acquired along the route. These
Celts were divided into two groups, the one, and the earliest
to cro.ss the sea and repeat the conquest of Gaul in the con-
quest of Britain, being the Gaidhelic or Gaelic, formerly
written by themselves Goidel. From this branch, the
Goidelic, are descended the people in Ireland, the Isle of
Man, and the Northern Highlands, who speak Gaelic. The
second group, the Brythonic, from Brython, the Welsh
form of Briton, are the ancestors of the Welsh people and
the Britons, the ancient Gauls being also included with
them, since the Brythons were Gauls who came over to
settle here. To one of these two branches every Celt
belongs.

The remains of these Celtic and of the pre-Celtlc peoples
indicate what befell the latter. The round barrows of the
wolds of Yorkshire contain about an equal proportion of the
.skeletons of long-shaped and round-shaped skulls, pointing
to intermai'riage and generally friendly relations between

the tn'o ; but in the southern parts of the i>land the round-
headed type is dominant, pointing to the expulsion of the
pre- Celtic.

{To he concluded.)

* " Tales ot the West Highlands," iii. 14 1.
t Boyd Dawkins's " Early Man in Britain,'

p. .S31.

Emin I'dfilia in Central Africa. Being a Collection of his
Letters and Journals. Translated by Mrs. R. W. Felki.\.
(Geo. Philip ct Sons.) — Pending the arrival of Stanley's
relief expedition the world is longing to know all it can
about the brave and unselfish Emin, and his friends have
exercised a wise discretion in publishing the letters and
extracts from journals which he has sent to various
correspondents during the past ten years. To future
generations, when time shall have given its truer propor-
tion to events which are yet too near us for right focus,
there will, we think, be no more striking and dramatic
figures of our day than Gordon at Khartum and bis trusted
friend Emin, who happily survives to maintain firm and
bloodless rule in Central Africa, protecting his people from
the slave-hunter, and refusing to desert them at the prospect
of approaching relief. In the last letter which this book
gives, dated Wadelai, April 17, 1887, he tells Dr. Felkin
that he will not leave his post. " If the people in Great
Britain thiok that as soon as Stanley or Thomson comes I
shall return with them, they greatly err. I have passed
twelve years of my life here, and would it be right of me to
desert my post as soon as the opening for escape presented
itself? For twelve lorg years I have striven and toiled,
and sown the seeds for future harvests, laid down the
foundation-stones for future buildings. Shall I now give
up the work because a way may soon open to the coast ?
Never . . . All we would ask England to do is to bring
about a better understanding with Uganda, and to provide
us with a free and safe way to the coast. This is all we
want. Evacuate our territory ? Certainly not I " * And
this is the man to whom our late poltroon Government
permitted the Egyptian Government to "give the sack,"
to put it plainly, in the early part of 1886. "It is,"
Emin says, " a cool business despatch in the fullest
sense of the term, not acknowledging by a single word
the cares I have borne for three years, my fights with
Dangola and negroes, my hunger and nakedness, not
giving me a word of encouragement in the superhuman
task of leading home the soldiers, which now lies before me.
However, I am accustomed to this sort of thing. In the years
1878-80, during which the river was blocked for twenty-two
months, I held the country and people together, and showed
for the first time that we could maintain ourselves by our
own strength without any supplies from Khartum, and not
only did I spare the Government expense at this time, but
also proved practically that the province could, under an
honest administration, yield a surplus. . . . Yet, who has
given me even a word?" Emin, "the Faithful" (faith
justified by works, in this case) is the Turkish name which,
to smooth his intercourse with the Mohammedans, was
adopted by Eduard Schnitzer, who was born in 1840 at
Oppeln in Silesia. He became a student of medicine, and
his passion for travel and love of natural history carried
him to Turkey, where he procured an appointment on the
staff of the Yali of Asia Minor, and ultimately entered the
Egyptian service, being sent to Khartum, and thence, as
the chief medical officer of the Equatorial province, of which

* Since this notice was written, a letter appears in the Timrs of
April 10, under date Wadelai, August IC, 1887, from Emin Pashi,
expressing the same firm resolve.

164

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

Gordon was governor. The two men became fast friends ;
and when Gordon was appointed Governor-General of the
Soudan he promoted Emin as governor of the Equatorial
province, which extends from nine degrees to two degrees
north of the equator. A clear and indispensable map,
which Mr. Eavenstein has engraved for this volume, enables
the reader to follow with ease the various journeys described.
It is the record of these visits to the dilferent parts of his
province that the letters and journals mainly embody, and
they supply a vivid and interesting narrative of the incessant
and varied work which Emin has carried on in the face of
stupendous difficulty, danger, and discouragement. While
engaged in raising and drilling troops, substituting native
for Egyptian soldiers, promoting trade, encouraging cultiva-
tion of coffee, indigo, cotton, and other products, adding
large districts to his territory, not by war, but by skilful
negotiation, converting a deficit of over 30,000/. into a
surplus of 8,000Z., Emin has also found time to make e.^ten-
sive observations on the geology and general features of the
province, to form large collections of its jjlants and animals,
and to gather copious details concerning the manners,
customs, and beliefs of its various tribes, notably of the
Monbuttus, a cannibal, but, in many respects, advanced race,
to whom he devotes a special section (pp. 18(5-213).
Despite a good de;vl of inevitable repetition and of sameness
in details, the letters and journals deserve to be read with-
out skipping, a task the more easy because their translation
has been so skilfully done by the wife of Emin's missionary
friend. Dr. Feikin, that they read as smoothly as if the
originals had been written in English.

Geology : Chemical, Pliysical, and SlrathjrapJiical. By
Joseph Prestwich, Professor of Geology in the University
of Oxford. Vol. II. (Clarendon Press.) — This volume
completes the important work into which the ripe results
of fifty years' study of the science at which the Oxford pro-
fessor has laboured con amove are gathered, and it is from
cover to cover worthy of his high reputation. We notice
that the publishers give prominence in the advertisements
of this book to the advocacy of " the non-uniformitarian
views of geology " by its distinguished author, but surely
lie can be no party to the sounding of this note of challenge,
since his attitude is not that of the defiant extremist which
that implien. The day is happily past when the scientist is
•sunk in the partisan, for the diflerences between contending
schools are often found to be rather of terms than of prin-
ciples. Because Lyell, after careful sifting of evidence,
abandoned the old catastrophism and argued from the
ascertained opei ations of existing causes, that th e same causes,
allowing for variation of degree, have sufficed to bring about
past changes, a host of purblind followers have contended for
an unalterable tiniformitarianism. It is against such extreme
applications of the doctrine that Professor Pj'estwich contends
when he says that " while the laws of chemistry and physics
are unchangeable, and as permanent as the material universe
itself, the exhibition of the consequences of those laws in
their operation on the earth has been, as new conditions
and new combinations succe.s.sively arose in the course of its
long geological history, one of constant variation in degree
and intensity of action." * Perhaps the word " constant "
implies more than we are prepared to admit, but, as Pro-
fessor Huxley remarked in his anniversary address to the
Geological Society in 18C9 on Geological lleform, " there
appears to be no sort of necessary theoretical antagonism
between Catastrophism and Uniformitarianism. On the
contrary, it is very conceivable that catastrophes may be
part and parcel of uniformity." And he illustrates bis
meaning by the working of a clock, the good time-keeping

Vol. i.

p. VI.

of which means uniformity of action. " But the striking
of the clock is essentially a Gitastropbe ; the hammer might
be made to blow up a barrel of gunpowder or turn a deluge
of water ; and, by proper arrangement, the clock, instead
of marking the hours, might strike at all sorts of irregular
periods, never twice alike, in the intervals, force, or number
of its blows. Nevertheless, all these irregular, and appa-
rently lawless, catastrophes would be the result of an abso-
lutely uniformitarian action, and we might have two .schools
of clock thcori.sts, one studying the hammer, and the other
the pendulum." In his first volume Professor Prestwich
dealt with the nature and distribution of the materials
forming the crust of the earth, and with the several agencies
by which, in the remodelling of those materials, the strati-
fied have been developed from the unstratified rocks. The
present volume treats of the original condition of that crust,
of its anatomy, history, and organic contents, and concludes
with a discussion of those abstract phy.sical and cosmical
problems which relate to the evolution of the globe and of
the system to which it belongs. The distinctive feature
of the author's treatment of the stratigraphical branch of
his subject is in his insistance on the impossibility of any
universal scheme of classification, the formations in distant
areas being correlated not by identity of species, but by
the presence of the same characteristic genera, the large
community of which amongst the Invertebrata everywhere
is most striking. He remarks that " the great time-
divisions are of almost universal application, but the smaller
' breaks in continuity,' which are of frequent occurrence in
all areas, are subject to constant differences of extent and
value ; consequently, in filling up the details of the several
geographical areas, each one is found to have its own local
stamp, and possess its own special terms, some knowledge
of which is as essential to the geologist as is the language of
a country to the traveller, if he would pass through it with
profit " (p. 3). As novel and informing commentary on
this, we have several tables of classification showing the
equivalent strata in various parts of Europe, and in
America, Asia, Africa, and Australasia, with brief " lists of
the characteristic genera of plants and animals attached for
the purpose of showiug the distribution of some of the more
important life forms over the globe at the several con-
temporaneous epochs." Altogether, the space given to the
geology of other countries is a unique and valuable feature
of the volume. Convenient summaries of the faunas
and floras of each period are supplied, so that a great mass
of facts is helpfully grouped for easier gi-a.sp by the student,
for whom also an abundance of excellent plates and wood-
cuts, together with a geological map of Europe, are provided.
In the chapter on the Quaternary or Pleistocene period, to
our knowledge of which the author's researches have largely
added, some remarks on the place of man in the geological
record are included, and it is significant of a turn in the tide
to find Professor Prestwich admitting the probability of
man's existence in North-Western Europe in the glacial
epoch, the duration of which he thinks may not have been
longer than from 15,000 to 25,000 years. This is in
keeping with the generally shorter estimates of time than
are usually demanded by geologists which characterise the
volume, and so far jiaves the way for reconciliation betweea
geologists and physicists.

Chamherss Encyclopcedia. Vol. I., A to Beaufort.
(W. & R. Chambers. 1888.) — The publishers remind us
in their preface that their great work has been before the
world in complete form for twenty years. Revision has
gone on at frequent intervals, but the time has arrived for
an entire recast of the matter, involving the rewriting of a
large proportion, so as to bring down the information to
date. So far the work has been well and thoroughly done ;

May 1, 188S.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

1G5

and never did an undertaking more nobly redeem the
promise of its preface than this first volume of the new edition,
which, for the convenience of the many, is also iinder issue
in monthly parts. Even to the few who can afl'ord to buy
the bulky " Encyclopa?dia Britannica ' this moderate sized
and cheap companion is as indispensable as the " finder "
to a big telescope. Not relying solely on authorities
whose names might justify our taking their contributions on
trust, we have gone over the majority of the articles with
considerable care, and the result warrants the highest [jraise
that we can give. Mr. Grant Allen's article on Anthro-
pology is a masterly and lucid survey of the science ; the
cognate articles on Animism, Animal- and Ancestor-
Worship are models of brevity and clearness, while includ-
ing material for the reader to form bis own judgment on
Herbert Spencer's and o[)posing theories : the article Ballad,
by the same skilful hand, has had the advantage of revision
by Andrew Lang and others. Professor Tail's article on
the Atom supplies, inter alia, an untechnical account of the
periodic law of the elements ; the article on Matthew Arnold
— now, -we must sorrowfidh' add, gone to his rest —
seizes in a few words the characteristics of his work both in
prose and verse ; while among the contributions from the
United States, the insertion of which happily protects
the work from Transatlantic thieves, we must single
out as especially complete and interesting Dr. Greene's
article on the American Indians. Per contra, under
Animal, the writer, in speaking of the presence
of chlorophyll in certain infusorians and other inver-
tebrates, overlooks Sach's explanation that it is not a
proper constituent of their bodies, but due to the
presence of vegetable cells which they assimilate; under
archa;ology. Dr. Anderson has not sufficiently insisted
on the totally unlike conditions and characters of the
Palaeolithic and succeeding ages ; the discovery of a deep
.sea A,scidian {Octanemus Btjthii's) by the C/ialknger ex-
pedition might have been noted in the article under that
heading, and the article on the Aryans will soon need con-
siderable revision. To descend to trifling errors, " Robert
Maitland " should be " Thomas Maitland " in the article on
Anonymous. We should add that the maps, which are
both political and physiail, and also the woodcuts, are very
superior to those given in the old editions, and that the
typography is perfect.

Marahuna : a Romance. By H. B. Marriott Watson.
(Longmans.) — We think this story marks the approaching
exhaustion of the modern romantic school, to which Hugh
Conway's and Eider Haggard's tales gave chief impetus. It
was an inevitable reaction from the colourless, anah'tical,
white-of-egg flavoured studies of Howell and James,
making any change of diet welcome to the confirmed
novel-reader. Not that this book lacks an original side,
but that the combinations are limited and the surprises
discounted. The talk on shipboard is too " high-falutin',"
and Marahuna herself inspires languid interest, the only
quality in her n hich gives force to the character is akin to that
which Grant Allen presents so powerfully in " For Maimie's
Sake." The scenes of the story alternate between the
Antarctic circle and Hampshire ; the origin and flite of
Mai-ahuna our readers mu t learn from the book itself.

Civilisation and Progress. By John" Beattie Crozier.
New edition. (London: Longmans it Co. 188S.) — No
one can rise from the perusal of the work whose title heads
this notice without the conviction that its author has es-
tablished a claim to stand high among the most profound
and original thinkers of the day. He has set himself an
ambitious task, and he has very narrowly indeed escaped
entire success. In his search for a consistent theory of
civilisation and progress, Mr. Crozier successively discards

the histoiical, the metaphysical, and the psychological
methods, and founds his own new organon on " the laws of
the human mind in its entirety as a concrete unity " — an
e'astic definition which crops up, as a deus ex machind,
throughout the work. That such laws are immutable is
taken for granted. Portions of the work before us must
irresistibly attract the reader. We may instance chapter
vii. of Part. I. and the whole of Part IV. among them. But
the man who sets himself to frame a new method for the
investigation of the factore and causes operative in the
advancement of the human race should above all things be
impartial, and this our author assuredly is not. His
unreasoning admiration of democracy in the abstract to a
large extent blinds him entirely to its operation in the con-
crete. Certainly his picture of America is evolved from
the depths of his own moral consciousness. Everyone
personally familiar with the United St;ites knows that
jiolitics there are practically abandoned to the scum and
dregs of the population, and that an American gentleman
(and there is an upper class even in Mr. Crozier's model
Piepublic) repudiates with scorn and loathing the slightest
sympathy or fellowship with the caucus -mongei-s, log-roller.^,
and wire-pullers who dominate all political matters what-
soever there. A great many hard things have been written
and said about the Corporation of the City of London, but
Mr. Bottomley Firth himself would scarcely dare to in-
sinuate the pos-ibility that the Lord Mnyor and Aldermen
could ever be guilty of the infamous corruption and pecula-
tion of which the municipal authorities of New York were
convicted at a compai'atively recent date. As for current
French Republicanism, no further reference is needed to it
here. When evolution shall have develo])ed a superior type
of the human race, Mr. Crozier's supposititious Re-
public may become an accomplished fact : at present
" the laws of the human mind," as known to us in their out-
ward manifestations, present an insuperable bar to the
realisation of his Ltopian dream. The constitution of a
country may confer political equality upon every one of its
citizens: but to suppose that they can or ever will become
socially equal is as reasonable as to imagine that their
height or the colour of their eyes can be regulated by a
statute. Jla'gre the small display of fanaticism which has
elicited these remarks, the author of " Civilisation and Pro-
gress " has produced a work of very high merit, and one
which will repay perusal and reperusal.

The English in the West Indies ; or, the Bow of Ulysses.
By J. A. Froude. (Longmans.) — In the present work Mr.
Froude gives us the result of his acquaintance with a very
different batch of colonies from those which formed the
subject of his brilliant sketches in " Oce;ina." If it lacks
the freshness and vigour of that book, drawn as these
quilities were from the material dealt with, it has a more
romantic flavour, mixed with bitterness at the neglect
which has allowed whilom bright jewels in the possession
of the Crown to become dull and tarnished, or, as the
author in repeated metaphor says, the bow of Ulysses to
remain unstrung. In his own matchless prose Mr. Froude
tells how tha Caribbean Sea, from Trinidad to Jamaica, was
the cradle of our naval empire, the scene of exploits to
furnish the most stirring cantos if ever England's victories
on the seas are done into an epic poem. All the romance
of adventure and conquest in the New World defiles before
us ; every hero, from Columbus to Drake and Rodney, is
there, " the captains of the ships and all the ships in order."
But the main subject of the book is the West Indies of
to-day, with the problems of England's position towards
the decreasing white and the increasing black populations,
which our party leaders, miscalled statesmen, ignoring
inherent difi'erences in the capacity and power of self-

166

♦ KNO^A^:.EDGE ♦

[May 1, 1888.

control of races of mantiiul, liave aggriivated by their
exportation of parodies of the mother institutions — house-
hold suffrage, representative assemblies, and so forth. They
have ignored the fact that the personal relations between
master and servant liave ceased to exist with the abolition
of slavery, and that the political elevation of the negro has
done, and can do, nothing to establish new relations. We
must confess that Mr. Froude, although paradoxical as ever,
makes out a strong case for the government of those islands
as Crown colonies. No tinkering with their political con-
stitution can arrest the decay of their staple industry —
.sugar ; capital and enterprise can only be tempted to remain
in Jamaica, Dominica, and other suffering islands, or be
attracted thither anew and be engaged in remunerative
channels, by the firm rule of white over black. Let the
superior race withdraw, and the negro populations will
relapse into barbarism, with its revolting superstitions,
cannibalism, devil-worship, &c., as they have in llayti. We
have said enough to indicate that, as a contribution to the
mode in which tlie mother-country is to discharge her duty
to these neglected, but lovely and fertile, islands of the
West Indies, Mr. Fronde's book demands serious perusal.

Juvenal in Piccadillij. By Oxoniensis. (Vizctelly ct
Co.) — Satires seem almost anachronisms nowadays. Since
Alfred Austin published his " Season " we do not remember
one that has .appeared to lash the humours and follies of
the towzi until the present brochure, which, free from the
exaggerated tones of the great Roman, finds material for
its crisp and brightly-written verse in vices and affectations
which have changed their zone but not their nature.

Messrs. Blackwood & Sons send us a new and almost
entirely rewritten edition of the late Professor David
Page's Introductorn Text-Booh of Geology, the merits of
which need " no bush " from us ; from Messrs. Smith &
Elder we have Volume XIV. of their noble Bidionai-i/ of
National Biotjrapln/, comprising Damon to D'Eyncourt,
and therefore including the famous name of Darwin, the
article on whom is fitly ii-om the pen of his son and biographer;
amongst current serials we have to acknowledge the West-
minster lieview, containing a delightfully fresh paper on
Heine; the Cenliiri/, the C'l/dopaalia of Education, Lowj-
maris, in which appears Mr. Be.'ant's important pai)er on
making provision for girls ; and Bahij, an Illustrated
^[afjazine for Mothers, which, we ho|)e, will be received by
them as its prospectus says it has been received by the
press — "with open arms."

The author of ,S'iuilig/it (reviewed on p. 140) complains
that we I'epresent him as explaining gravitation by the
action of light, whereas he only stated that light "developed"
gravitation. He further objects to a quotation from his
volume anent meteorites being earthy atoms separated from
the air by cold pressure and vegetation. What he meant
was that by "the death and decouipo.sition of Fauna and
Flora their dusts do rise, and may become constituents of
meteorites when separated from the air by cold pressure " (!).
We trust that our readers will appreciate the value of these
corrections, and judge how far they aftect the validity of our
original judgment on the book in connection wdth which we
have been asked to make them.

(But WRWt Columiu

By "Five of Clubs."

WAKING THAT LITTLE TRUMP.

THE other evening two Bumblepuppists, playing as partners
against two sound but not specially brilliant players, distin-
guished themselves in the following triumphant manner : —

, fC. (trumj/s).-
\D.— Q, 10.

'C. (f/js).—'.), 8, 7, i.

D.- K, 8, 6, 2.

S.- K. 5.
Ih.— K, 4, 3.

THE HANDS.
-K, Ki),6. H.— A, C, o, 2.

S.— A, Q, 9, 6.

12

B

Y

Z

Tr. C. 10

A leads.

-A, Kn, 0, 5.

IL— Kn, 10, tt, 8.

■]•

H.- «,>, 7. \

S.— 10, 8, 7, 1, 3, 2./

, fC. {trinii/is). — 5, 3.
■^ID.—l, 4, 3.

Score :— A B love ; Y Z 2.
Card underlined wins trick ; card underneath leads next.

NOTES.

1. A sees no other chance o£
making a trick or two from his
own hand but by ruffing Hearts.
He therefore leads the Qae(n.
Y follows the system now gene-
rally approved, and does not put
an honour on .in honour. Z
begins a signal, hardly justified
with one suit si weak; but the
double tenace in trumps makes
it desirable that Z should not
himstlE have to lead trumps.
Moreover, Z knosvs from his own
Hearts tliat A has led from weak-
ness, with a probable view to
rufling.

2 and .R. A's lead could hardly
have better served his purpose
if ho had had the arranging of
the Hearts in the other hands.
The little trump is not only
made, but it kills the Heart
King.

4. A DOW opens his long suit,
after getting rid of the one card
wh ch would have given him
any chance of re-entering if (as
is by no means unlikely) the suit
Is quickly established.

5. Of course B should have
f.irced Z's strong trump hand
with the Spade Ace. But B has
not noticed the signal ; and if
he had, he would not have
known what to do about it.
What his reason was for lead-
ing Hearts when he must have
known that he was giving Z the
tenace by so doing, it would be
dilEcult to say. (That is the
worst of weak jilayers ; one can
seldom imagine their reason even
when they have one, but they
generally have none.)

fi, 7, and 8. Of course Y leads
his best trump, and Z, knowing
A's weakness, passes the Nine.
B is again led through, and Z
then draws the trump King.

0, 10, &o. The rest of the
game pUys itself.

As Z threw down his last
three cards, all winning ones, A
remarked to B, " Lucky I played
as I did ! " To which B re-
sponded, " Yes, we got two
tricks by It, though we were too
weak to save the game ; isn't
that so 7 "turning to Z. "Hardly,"
said Z, "you not only did not
make two tricks you would
otherwise have lost, but you lost
one trick at least you would
otherwise have made ; so that your play really lost you the game
and the rubber. This neither A nor B would believe, till Y Z
rearranged the cards, and', placing them face uinvards on the table,
showed that sound play (Independently, of course, of any know-

i:i

0 0

oooo

o
oooo

Y Z win three by cards.

^9-

May 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

167

ledge already obtained about the cards) would have given the
following result : —

AY B A \ A r B Z

1.— S 4 S 5 S Q S Kn 8.— D 3 D K D 10 Do

—1 - — 5—

2.— S2 SK SA C2 9.— D 4 D6 C6 D9

-!- — 1 —

3.— H Q H K H A 11 Kn 10.— S 3 D 8 S G C 10

4— H r H3 H2 HS 11.— S 7 CS C Kn D Kn

5.— C 3 H 4 H G U 10 12.-S 8 C 4 S 9 C Q
~3- —7-.

6.— D 7 D2 DQ DA 13.--S 9 C9 CK CA

5 g ^

7.-C3 C7 H5 H9 ,

— 4-

T Z make only two by cnrds. As it chanced, the treble made by
Y Z completed a rubber, so that the extra point which A B's bad play
gave Y Z nade a considerable difference in the score for the evening

©y\x Cfeessf Column,

By " Mephisto."

3ME time back, at the Divan, Jlr. Blackburne was
made the victim of the severe criticisms and
strictures of one of those professors of " the art
of problem construction," who make problems,
solve problems, and judge problems according to
strict rules and canons. Herr Spitzleris not satis-
fied with a mere effort of the imagination con-
ceiving a pretty idea and shaping it into problem
form ; he has ajsthetic notions about " beauty of
construction," " economj- of force," "difficulty," "originality,"
" purity," "harmony," &c , and unless a composition can stand all
these tests, the Professor does not think much of it, Accordinglj',
when Jlr. Blackburne, speaking of his own powers of blindfold play,
showed some end-games which he brought to a happy termination
sins voir, though playing eight games at the same time, one or two
simple individuals expressed their surprise at tnch brilliant per-
formances. Not so, however, the Professor, for, said he, " Speaking
.of end-games generally as played by great players, I do not think
there Is any cause for great admiration. In most instances a mate
is accomplished by brute force, and though a piece or two may be
sacrificed, yet the object is the same — to force mate in a few moves
by a most direct method, check, check, check, and mate Com-
pared with a fine problem," be said, " the best end-game played is
but a clumsy and raw production. I have never yet seen a mate
forced in an end-game by a quiet and non-threatening move, which
makes problems so beautiful."

" Well," said a well-known chess editor, " I think I can show that
Professor Spitzler is wrong in his basis of comparison between end-
games and problems, and his consequent strictures. For the sake of
comparison, let me ask you whom would you think the greater
general, the commander who wins an actual batlle in the field bj'
rough lliough clever and bold manoeuvres ; or the staff officer who,
in imitation of this event, works out a scheme which he puts into
execution on the parade ground, when, as a result of a sham fight,
both armies being like clay in his hands, he wins a battle with
greater ' brilliance,' ' economy of force,' ' difficulty,' ' harmony,' and
* purity of manteuvring ' .' ' And as for the assertion that the quiet
move is never found in practical end-play, I can contradict that by
a game just received by the American mail, which was played only
last month by Steinitz at Havanna. Here it is : —

1. Pto K4 ]. P to K3

2. P to Q4 2. P to Q4

3. QKt to B3 3. KKt to B3

4. P to Eo 4. KKt to Q2

5. P to B4 h. P to QB4
PxP G. BxP
Kt to B3 7. Caslles

G.
7.
8.
9.

10.

B to Q.^ 8. QKt to B3

r to KR4 9. P to B3
Kt to KKt.5 :

To bring about an end-game by such means in actual play is a
dilcreut thing from making a problem.

10. 10. PxKt

11. BxP(ch)! 11. KxB

12. PxP (disc ch) 12. K to Ktsq

13. Qto Bo 13. Kt(Q2)xP

14. PxKt 14. RtoB4
1.5. P to KKt4 1.5. R X- KP(ch)
1«. K to Qsq 16. B to KG
17. BxB 17. KxB

YOLMiYJ.

Bl.^CE.

uu mm, A y4'ZA

11 i ■ m

WarrB.
STEINITZ.

Now the Professor was challenged to find the decisive move, bat
in spite of numerous and prolonged attempts, he failed t) do so,
which only proves, siid the editor, that you were wrong in saying
that winning moves in actual end-games are more or less obvious,
because forcible, and never quiet. Steinitz now played the very
quiet move of 18. Kt to Kt3, which is decisive, and equal to any
.'imilar move in a pro'olem, but infinitelj' more meritorious. The
object of this move is to cut off the retreat of the King. White
threatens P to KtG. Black cannot play his Kt to K4, for he loses
the Queen bv Q to R8 (ch), nor can he play K to B.sq on account of
R to Bsq (cli). Or if P to K4. 9. Q to R7 (ch) K to B2. 20 R to
Bsq (ch), K to Ksq. 21. Q to KtG (ch), K to Q2. 22. Q to QS (ch),
K t) Ksq. 23. E mates. Black actually plaved

18. 18. K to BG

19. P to KtG, and Black resigned.

The Professor, although edmiring the move of IS. Kt to Kto, did
not appear convinced on the whole, and promised to write an
elaborate treatise on the comparative merits of problems and actual
end-games.

Game played in the Handicap Tournament, played last month at
Simpson's Divan.

WurrE
J. (Jnii^ber^.

1. P to K4

2. QKt to B3

3. Kt to B3

4. P to QR3
.5. B to Ki .)
G. Kt to Kt2

If KtxP, then probably 7. P to O'l.
P X B ; 9. Kt X KP.

7. P to Q3

8. Kt to Kt3
11. B to QB4

10. Castles
White threatened to break up Black's position by Kt x KP.

11. PtoB3: 11. PxP

12. Pto Q4 1-2. Kt to Kt3

13. KtPxP 13. Castles

14. Kt to Bo! 14. KtxP

If K to Ii2. 1.5. BxKtP, PxB. IG. KtxP(ch). followed by
Kt X P, with a winning advantage. Of course 14. B x Kt. 15. PxB
followed by IG. PxP.

Buck.

J. H Zakprtort.

1. Pto K4

2. KKt to B3

3. Kt to B3

4. PtoQ4

.5. P to Q.>

6. BtoQ2

, Kt to Q3; S.

B X Kt (ch),

7. B to Q3

8. Kt to K2

9. Pto KR3

10. P to KKt 4

15.

KtxP(c.h)

1.5. K to Kf2

IG.

PxP

IG. B to K2

17.

KtxBP

17. KtxQliP

18.

Q to B2

IS. R X Kt

19.

BxR

19. KxB

20.

QxKt

20. P to Kto

21.

E to Qsq

21. PxKt

22.

P to K6 (ch)

22. KxP

23.

Q to Kt3 (cb)

23. K to B3

24.

B to Kt2 (ch)

24. K to Kt4

25.

Q to K3 (ch)

25. Kt to Bo

26.

E to Q5 (ch)

Resigns

The following instructive ending occurred in a game played in
the Divan Tournament between Messrs. Zukertort and MuUer ; the
former player in this position moved his K to KtG, R to E7, and the

168

KNO^A/'LEDGE

[May 1, 1888.

game resulted in a draw. Mr. Blackburne subsequently pointed out

that White could have won bv playing

P to KtC, for i£ R to K4(ch)

K to Kt4, then, K lo R8

P to Kt 7 R to Kt8(ch)

K to B.") R to li8(ch)
K to Q4, and White wins

MULLER.
Black.

White.
ZUKEIITORT.

THE FACE

FOR MAY.

OF THE SKY

By F.R.A.S.

I'OTS on the sun are both small and very infrequent'
liut his disc may be watched on clear days. The
in,;,'ht sliy is depicted on map v. of " The Stars in
tlieir ISeasons." Mercury is a morning star at the
licginning of May, coming into superior conjunc-
tion with the sun on the 10th. Then of course he
travels to the east of the sun and becomes an
cNening star. At the end of the month he may
be caught with the naked eye after sunset, over
the N.W. by \V. part of the horizon. Venus is a morning star, but
her appearance is singularly insignilicant when compared with that
which she presented last November, when so many fatuous people
hailed her as " the star of Rethlehem." Mars is still a striking
object in the n'ght sky, but his angular diameter is steadily and
sensibly decreasing. It will be noted, too, by the sharpsighted
observer with the telescope that he is no longer quite round. He
will be found between 8 and y Virgiois (-'The Stars in their
Seasons," map v.). On the night of the 5tU he and Uranus will be
so close together as to be in the same low-power tield of a telescope.
Jupiter is visible near to midnight, in fact sooner, but is so very low
down that to be seen in the least degree favourably he should be
looked <at when close to the meridian. Jupiter is travelling towards
3' Scorpii (" The Stars in their .Seasons," map vii.), and will, in fact,
be only 2' north of that star during tlie early morning of the 2 1st.
The phenomena of his satellites fairly observable at convenient
hours during May are as follow. On the 1st the ingress of the
shadow of satellite i. will happen at llh. 4.3m. p.m., and that of the
satellite itself twelve minutes after midnight. On the 2nd
satellite i. will reappear from occultation at llh. 42m. P.M.
On the 5th satellite ii. will disappear in eclipse at llh. 43m. 33s.
P.M. On the 6th satellite iii. will suffer eclipse at llh. 26ra. 14s.
P.M. On the 7th satellite ii. will pass off Jupiter's face at
Oh. 58m. P.M. On the 9th satellite 1. will disappear in
eclipse at lOh. 69m. 13s. P.M. On the 10th the shadow of
satellite i. will leave the planefs disc at lOh. 17m. p.m., followed
by the satellite casting it at lOh. 33m. P.M. On the 14th s,atellite ii.
will begin its transit acro.-s Jupiter at 9ti. 46m. p.m. ; its shadow
will pass off at llh. 53m, as will the satellite itself 12 minutes
after midnight. On the 16th satellite i. will be eclipsed at
12h. 53m. 8s. P.M. On the 17th the shadow of satellite i. will begin
its transit at 9h. 59m. P.M.,as will the satellite itself at lOh. 6m. The
shadow will leave Jupiter's opposite limb at 12h. 12m. P.M., and the
satellite .at 12h. 17m. On the 18lh satellite i. will reappear from
occultation .at 9h. 36m. p.m. On the 21st the .sh.adowof satellite ii.
will enter on to Jupiter's limb at llh. 58m., followed 2 minutes
later by the satellite casting it. On the 24th tlie shadow of
satellite iii. will begin its transit at 9h. Im. P.M., the satellite itself
leaving the opposite limb at lOh. 29m. P.M., and the shadow at
lUh. 56m. Then, at llh. 50m., the transit of satellite i. will begin,

followed by that of its shadow at llh. 53m. P.M. On the 25(h
Sitellite i. will be occulted at 9h. 8m. p.m., reappearing from eclipse
at llh. 23m. 37s. On the 30th, satellite ii. will reappear from
eclipse at llh. 1 2m. lis, P.M. Kinall)', on the 31st satellite iii. will
begin its transit at 12h. 12m., and its sliadow follow it at
12h. 59m. P.M. Saturn is rapidly approaching the west, and must
be looked for the moment it is sufficiently dark to be seen at all.
He is in Cancer, to the west of the Pr.-csepe ('• The Stars in their
Sea.sons," map iii.). Uranus should be looked for not much
later than lOh. 30m. P.M. to be seen to the greatest advan-
tage. He i-i in Virgo (■' The Stars in their Seasons," map
v.). VVe have spoken above of his conjunction with Mars
on the night of the 5th. Neptune is absolutely invisible. The moon
enters her last quarter at llh. 47'lm. P.M. on May 2, and is new at
Ih. 23om. A.M. on the 11th. She enters her first quarter at
llh. 51m. P.M. on the 18th, and is full at Ih. 40'lm. in the after-
noon of the 25ih. Four occultations of fi.xed stars by the moon will
happen at fairly convenient hours during May. The first occiirs
on the 16th, when the 6th magnitude star d' Cancri will disappear at
the moon's dark limb at llh. 5m. P.M. at an angle of 74° from her
vertex. It will reappear at her bright liiub at llh. 45m. P.M. at an
angle from her vertex of 337°. On the 20th b Virginis, also a star
of the 6th magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at
12h. 57m. P.M. at an angle of 139° from the moon's verte.x. It
will not reappear until Ih. 44m. the next morning at the bright
limb at a vertical angle of 254°. On the 24th tj Libr;e, a 6th magni-
tude star, will disappear at the dark limb of the moon at
lOh. 52m. P.M. at an angle of 128° from her vertex, reappearing
at her bright limb at llh. 23m. P.M. at an angle fruiu her vertex of
181°. Las ly, before the moon rises on the 27th, she will have
occulted 31 Sagittarii, also a 6th magnitude star, with her bright
limb. The star will reappear at her dark limb at llh. 23ra. P.M. at
a vertical angle of 240°. When our notes begin the moon is in
Sagittariu.=, but passes into Capricornus at 10 o'clock to-night (•' The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.). She takes precisely forty-eight hours
to cross Capricornus, and at 10 p.m. on the 3rd emerges in Aquarius.
She is travelling through .\quari us until Ih. A.M. on the 6th, when she
enters Pisces ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). As she traverses
I'isces, at 9 P M. on tlie 6ih she enters Cetus. It is not until
6h. 30m. A.M. on the 8lli that she re-enters Pisces. At 5h. 30m. A.M.
on the 9th she for the second time plunges into an outlier of Cetus,
and when she finiilly quits this at Oh. P.M. on the 9th it is lo come
out in Aries. She remains in Aries until Ih. A.M. on the 11th, when
she passes into Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). As
she journeys over Tauru.s, she arrives at Ih. A.M. on the 14th at the
western edge of the northern prolongation of Urion. This she has
crossed by noon, and come out in Geiuini (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiv.). It takes her until lOh. AM. on the 16th to cross
Gemini, and at that hour she enters Cancer. She leaves Cancer
for Leo at Ih. A.M. on the 18th. It is not until 4h. P.M. on the 20th
that she passes from Leo to Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate
XXV.;, and it is 4h. P.M. on the 23rd before she has completed her
passage thiough the last-named great constellation and entered
Libra ("The Seasons Pictured." plate xxvi.). Traversing Libra,
she arrives at 7h. A.M. on the 25th on the confines of the narrow
northern spike of Scorpio, having crossed which she, at 2h 30m.,
emerges in Ophiuchus. Here she remains until 2h. A.M. on the
27th, when she enters Sagittarius. By 7h. A M. on the 29th she has
completed her passage over Sagittarius and entered Capricornus
(■'The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.;. Here she continues until
5h. A.M. on the 3Is*, when she crosses into Aquarius. She is still
travelling through Aquarius at midnight on the 31st.

Contents of No. 30.

PAQE

Tlie Kinsliip of Meu and Apes, &c.

By Professor E. S. More 121

Weighing tlie Earth liS

Tnal. Bv W. Miittieu Williams 12.5

1 iftingGi oat Weights 127

Notfs on Americanisms 120

Tlie starj ototlier Times 130

Evolution of Laugaage. By Ada S.

Ballin 1.12

Strange Whist Hand 133

.Meteor BittU of the Universe 1 34

Tne American Tiottinp Horse .... 135

Oj'ster Protect ion 135

The Ancient History or the

Maori 135

Royal Victoria Hall 13,i

fiossip. By Richard A. Proctor 1H7

Reviews 140

The Face of the Sky for April.

By F.R A.S 142

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 142

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

pliisto " 143

TEEMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" KNOWLBDGE"a8 a Monthly Magazine Cannot be registered as a Newspajier for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : 3. d.

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To Australia, New Zealand, &0. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Bgypt, the Sutscription ia Te. 6d., u haratofore.

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOMTLEDGK ♦

169

' ^-ILLUSTRATED ^MAGAZINE g
ENCE1!TERATURE,& ARIl,

LONDON: JUNE 1, 1888.

SHAKESPEARE SELF-DRAWN.

By " Benvolio."

"LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST."

N' regard to the special inquiry on whicli we are
now engaged, '■ Love's Labour's Lost," which
in its original form was probably the first of
Shakespeare's comedies, is one of the most
interesting of all his plays. Eegarded as a
dramatic composition it is full of faults. It
has no plot. It can hardly indeed be called
a play, being rather a series of conversations. We catch
only a few aotes here and there of the wit and humour and
play of fancy of the later comedies. Often, indeed, we find
instead of wit a somewhat ill-mannered raillery, instead of
humour mere verbal quips, and though play of fancy is by
no means wanting in this play (any more than in the still
earlier "Titus Andronicus"), the poetical passages in which
it finds expression are overloaded with imagery unsuited
(as Shake.speare perceived later) for dramatic expression.
Again and again we find the poet who was to develop in a
few years into the greatest dramatist the world has known
forgetting apparently that he is writing a play, and penning
passages which might have a])peared among his sonnets, to
be admired (in their proper place) for their " sugred sweet-
ness " and condensed fulness of meaning. Indeed, there
are passages in " Loves Labour's Lost " which seem to me
to have been as clearly borrowed from Shakespeare's col-
lection of poems and sonnets as Longaville's sonnet " Did
not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye?" Berowne's musical
little poem '■ If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear
to love 1 " and Dumain's " On a day — alack the day ! Love
whose month is ever !May." The resemblance between the
style of the " sugred sonnets '' and the language of some of
the characters in " Love's Labour's Lost " is so great that
to any but the most constant students of Shakespeare it
would be difllcult to say (unless memory settled the question)
that a sonnet selected for the test was not in reality part
of the play, or that a part of the play similarly selected was
not a sonnet.

As an example consider the sonnet : — ■

Study me how to please the eye indeed,

By tixing it upon a fairer eye ;

■Who, dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed,

And give him light that it was blinded by.

Study is like the heaven's glorious sun.

That will not be deep-searched by saucy looks :

Small have continual plodders ever won,

Save base authority from others' books.

These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights.

That give a name to every iix^d star.

Have no more profit of their shining nights

Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.

Too much to know is to know nought but fame ;

And every godfather can give a name.

Shakespeare, of course, would be careful, when embodying
poems in the speeches of his dramatis ferso'na, to make
such changes as would give them a more natural air. To
a writer of his versatility and ease of diction this would be
a simple matter. We must not, then, expect to find many
complete poems in " Love's Labour's Lost," though, as the
earliest of Shakespeare's comedies, it would be in that play
probably more than in any other that Shakespeare would
hive allowed himself this use of his poems. Indeed, in i:s
actual form, '• Love's Labour's Lost" is probably so changed
from the form in which it oiiginally appeared that we may
wonder rather to find any traces at all of the pieeing-in of
outside poems, than that only a few traces here and there
should remain. It is evident, however, that Shakespeare,
in modifying and enlarging the play, paid more attention to
the re-writing of passages which seemed to him defective,
and to the addition of matter which seemed wanted to make
the play complete, than to any such minor point as the
removal of the signs of 'prentice work in this his earliest
comedy. Here and there we note cases where changes of
the former kind were somewhat carelessly made, .so that
signs of "joining " remain. For instance, near the beginning
of Berowne's rather lengthy " salve for perjury," we find the
lines : —

For when would you, my lord, or you, or you.
Have found the ground of study's excellence
Without the beauty of a woman's face '

While, a little later, the same thought is expressed more

fully in the lines : — •

For when would yon, my liege, or yon, or you,
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes
Of beauty's tutors have enriched you with ?

Evidently Shakespeare had intended to replace the former
passage by the latter, hut left several lines unobliterated, or
so imperfectly obliterated that his purpose was not recog-
nised.*

* The printers of the folio would seem to have been perplexed by
the corrections— not made in ilS. (for the MS. of " Love's Labour's
Lost" was probably destroyed in the Globe tire), but probably
written as alterations and interlineations in snch printed copy as
Shakespeare had used for the theatre text. Thus we find 'the fol-
lowing : —

Learning is but on adiunct to our selfe.
And where we are, our Learning likewise is :
Then when our selues we see in Ladies' eyes,
With our selues.
Doe we not likewise see our learning there .'

Here the words "with our selues" belong manifestly to the
original version, but had remained unobliterated. The printers seem
to have found much difficulty in deciphering their copy, whatever it
may have been. Thus in the folio the following passage occurs,
which would be quite unintelligible were not the true version other-
wise known : —

" Cura. Lavs deo, hene intellign.

Peda. Borne boon for Joo»^rfSciaH, a little scratcht, 'twil
seme."
Evidently the reviser and compositor could make nothing here of
the copy. Bone in the first line seemed clearly wrong ; so he/te was
substituted, which would have made nonsense of what followed,
even had it been correctly read. But in the next line they found
(probably) corrections of the originally wrongly printed words for
" Bone for bene" and these (the correct words) were written some-
what indistinctly above the wrongly printed words imperfectly
scored out. In some such way they found five words which they
evidently regarded as all belonging to some strange tongue, and so
produced the "jewel, five words long,"— .Borne boon for boon,
prescian. What Shakespeare wrote was: —

Cura. [Sir Xathaniel] Laus deo, bone intelligo.

Peda. [Holofernes] Bone, for bene. Priscian a little scratcht

'twill serve.

[Possibly Mr. Ignatius Donnelly may find some specially Baconian

significance in " Borne boon for boon prescian." It being nonsense

as they stand, the words wonld suit the Baconian theory perfectly.]

170

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

But -while the sigus of revision ai-e thus evident in
" Love's Labour's Lost," it is Shakespeare's self that
Shakespeare thus revised : while the signs of inexperience
are thus clear, vre have in this play inexperience^ striving
by self-study to grow into experience, not borrowing from
the experience of others. " Titus Andronicus " shows us
Shakespeare striving to write a tragedy after the style
approved in his day, and erring more through the modesty
which led him to accept the ideas of others than through
the daring which led him, as yet a beginner, to adopt the
strongly-marked style of older writers. In the earlier-
written among the historic plays we see Shakespeare
directly copying the manner of Marlowe, whose " mighty
line " doubtless seemed to him at that stage of his career
not easily to be matched, nor to be possibly surpassed.
But, so far as is known, Shakespeare was working alone
and without the guidance of others in his first comedy.

It is true Shakespeare introduces into this conversational
comedy several of the characters of the Italian drama which
he was at this very time studying under Florio. But
althougli it has been said by Gervinus that the tone of the
Italian school prevails in '-Love's Labour's Lost" more
than in any other of Shakespeare's plays, this is only true
in a very limited sense. Holofernes may correspond in a
sense with the pedant familiar in contemporary Italian
drama, but he is as thoroughly English as Fielding's
Adams; Sir Nathaniel, the Curate, may be paralleled by
similar characters in Italian plays, but George Eliot's Amos
Barton is not more obviously drawn from the life than Sir
Nathaniel from a Warwickshire curate whom Shakespeare
had known in his youthful days. As for Armado — the
Braggart of the folio — Shakespeare, short as had been his
stay in London when this play was written, had evidently
made the acquaintance of Euphuisto such as London knew
in those days, Piercie Shaftons such as then infested
Elizabeth's court ; and we need go no more to the Italian
drama for the original of Armado than for the original of
" Eare Ben's " Bobadil.

Still more obviously drawn from Shakespeare's own, and
at the time still recent, experience are the characters Dull
and Costard (in the folio simply Constable and Clown),
Jaquenetta and Moth. Costard is own brother, by the
way, to the Clown in " Titus Andronicus," a character
which of itself would suffice to disprove the theory that
Shakespeare was not (as INIeres described him) the author
of that crude and repulsive, yet (in many passages) powerful,
tragedy. Compare their talk, and the resemblance will be as
obvious (while the individuality of each is as distinct) as in
the case of Launce and Launcelot. " Didst not thou come
from heaven]" Titus asks the Clown. "From heaven I
Alas, sir, I never came there ! " says the poor fellow
(presently to be hanged). " God forbid I should be so bold
as to press to heaven in my young days." Costard is not
readier to be unduly pressing heavenwards : " Did you hear
the proclamation 1 " asks Navarre ; "I do confess mtich of
the hearing it, but little of the marking of it." " Sir," says
the king, " I will pronounce your sentence : \'ou shall fast a
week with bran and water." " I had rather pray a month,"
saj's the Clown, whose tendencies are nevertheless by no
means towards prayer, '• I had rather pray a month with
mutton and porridge."

But it is worthy of notice how little of that power which
later he possessed in such marked degree — the power of
truthful and consistent drawing — Shakespeare possessed, or
at any rate .showed, when delineating Costard. For in
places Costard is as dull a rogue as Dull the Constable — a
heavier Dogberry — while elsewhere he is as ready and apt
in response as Touchstone. " Thev have lived long on the
alms-basket of words," he says of the pedant and the curate ;

yet the man who could thus in ten preguant words picture
the folly of Holofernes and Nathaniel, and could answer
Armado's threat that he should be heavily punished with
neat sarcasm — " I am more bound to you than your fellows,*
for they are but lightly rewarded " — blunders in the use of
words as foolishly as Dogberry or Elbow.

The Italian touches in this play are, however, worth
noticing, as showing that when it was written — probably
about 1588 — Shakespeare had already been for some time
studying under Florio. He would not otherwise have
pictured so thoroughly English a dominie as Holofernes
speaking of Venice as Florio might have done (who, despite
the strange fancy of Warburton, was no more presented
in the character of Holofernes than in that of Berowne) — ■
Yenegia, Venegia, chi non te vede, ci non te pregia.f

Though the ibur gentlemen whose labours of love are lost
have French names given them, they were probably drawn
from Warwickshire folk well known to Shakespeare, Biron
(Berowne of the folios) was our familiar British Brown,
Longueville simple Langton, and Dumain plain Hand (all
three are local names). The king, of course, would not be
so readily identified by Shakespeare's contemporaries at
Stratford ; he may have been either a local king or a local
magnate. It is noteworthy that, though he is a gentleman
in act and manner, he is somewhat slow of apprehension.
Of the four lovers he is the dullest and unreadiest. In one
place he shows himself scarce able to count up to five.
(The grace with which, after correcting the king's counting,
Berowne passes from the mistake is worth noticing )

As for the ladies, we have no evidence except that derived
from their manner. The princess may pass for a French-
woman or Italian — she is not drawn too definitely — but
Rosaline, Maria, and Katharine are as thoroughly English
as Jaquenetta or Audrey.

One is tempted to ask whether the black-eyed Rosaline
may not tell us something of Shakespeare's weakness for
dark women. We know from the later sonnets that after
he had passed the days of early youth he was moved, despite
bis truer self, to love a dark lady who was not even beauti-
ful, and whom by his own admission he could not love
without being more seriously forsworn than Biron or his
fellows. On revient foujours li ses premii-res amours. May
we not imagine that in Biron's weakness, Biron being
manifestly the character of all those in the play with whom
Shakespeare was most in sympathy, he sketched in some
degree his own 1 (Have we any knowledge, by the way, of
Anne Hatha way's complexion ?) J

I forsooth in love ! I that have been love's whip ;
What ! I love ! I sue I I seek a wife !

* Probably a misprint for " followers."

t On the folio these words are strongly presented insomuch that
one wonders what Shakespeare can possibly have written to be so
mistaken. The}' run — " Vemchie, veneha, que non te vnde, que non
se perreche." Posi-ibly the MS. had the words—" Venechie,
Venechie, que non te vede, ei non te perrechie," corresponding
with a method of spelling which was even at that time passing
out of vogue.

J It is worthy of notice with what zest Shakespeare pictures the
love of Silvias "for Phebe in " As You Like It." Altogether a minor
character, and having but few words to utter, Silvius yet speaks his
love more earnestly, if less volubly, than either Rosalind or Celia.
Now it is nol eworthy that Rosalind, in appraising Phebe, speaks
much as Shakespeare would have presented such as Rosalind
speaking of the dark lady of the sonnets : —

I see no more in you, than in the ordinary
Of nature's sale-work. Od's my little life 1
I think she means to tangle my eyes too.
No faith proud mistress, liope not after it :
'Tis not your inky brows and black silk hair.
Your bugle eyeballs nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

171

Nay to be perjured, which is worst of all ;

And, among three, to love the worst of all ;

A whitely wanton with a velvet brow \_relfi't for blacli]

With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes.

And I to sigh for her 1 to watch for her !

To pra)' for her 1 Go to : it is a plague

That Cupid will impose for my neglect

Of his almighty dreadful little might.

Compare with this the self-drawn Shakespeare of the
later .'^onnets, and it will at least be seen that, in attributing
something of Biron's weakness for dark-browed, black-eyed,
]iale-faced women to the poet himself, we do not wrong him.
Even the strange charm which Biron seems half to admit
that he finds in the suggestion that Eo.saline is amorous
(" Ay, and by heaven," etc.) Shakespeare found in the dark
lady of the sonnets : —

When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies.

O, love's best habit is in seeming trust, i:c.
For the rest, the whole story of " Love's Labour's Lost"
speaks of Shakespeare's loving recollection of the fair scenes
and forest life of Stratford and Charlecote I From the first
scene ("a Park with a Palace in it," but a palace into which
none of the characters enter), through all the others (always
" another part of the Park "), to the last songs of Spring and
Winter, the whole play is full of English country ways and
sylvan life.

FORCE AND ENERGY.

N his otherwise capital work, " The Stoi-y of
Creation " — the main portion of which ap-
paared, bj' the way, in these pages — my friend,
Mr. Clodd, continues his use of the word
" force " to represent attraction, and " energy "
to represent repulsion. But he gives reasons
for the adoption of this incorrect usage which
serve to show how it had its origin in the entire misap-
prehension by others of the actual use of the terms " force "
and " energy " in books properly described as scientific : —

" In attempting," he says, " to give a clear idea of the mechanism
of the universe, I have felt the difficulty expressed years ago by
such authorities as Sir W. R. Grove and Professor Tyndall, arising
from the lack of precision in standard books on physics in the use
of the terms ' force ' and ' energy.' When talking over this matter
with my friend Grant Allen, I was delighted to find that he had
published (although privately) a pamphlet on the subject, in which
rigid and definite meanings are given to ' force ' and ' energy ' as
the twofold and opposite forms of power manifest through matter ;
and in that sense, as affording the reader a clearer conception of
cosmic dynamics, those terms are used throughout this book."

In the body of the book (p. 13) Mr. Clodd gives these
" rigid and definite meanings " (their rigidity and definite-
ness are, indeed, unmistakable), which will rather raise
the eyebrows of the scientific students of dynamics, espe-
cially when considered in connection with his purpose of
clearing his readei's' conceptions. They run as follows : —

(a) Force is that which produces or quickens motions binding
together two or more particles of ponderable matter, and which
retards or resists motions tending to separate such particles.

(i) Energy is that which produces or quickens motions separating
and which resists or retards motions binding together two or more
particles of matter, or of the ethereal medium.

By the oddest confusion between energy as thus defined —
which, of course, is no other than our old friend, repulsive
force — Mr. Clodd goes on to say of Sir. Grant Allen's
" energy " what is only true of energy as correctly
defined : — " A stone lying on a roof, a clock wound up but
not going, have," he says, " potential energy " [that is,
according to definition {b) they have potentially " that

which produces or quickens motions separating, and whic'n
resists or retards motions binding together two or more par-
ticles of matter "], and this energy " becomes kinetic " (or
is actually displayed in motion) when the stone falls or the
clock goes. Yet I suppose it will be admitted of the stone
(the clock may go by the out-pressing of a spring, a case of
repulsion, or by the down-drawing of a weight, a case of
attraction) that the potentiality possessed by it while at rest
is a tendency to go towards the earth", a motion not
separating but drawing together particles of ponderable
matter. The distance it may have to travel when once
freed to yield to the attractive influence (technically called
the attractive force) measures the stone's power of "getting
into motion (technically called its " potential energy "). The
motion it thus acquires, when considered not simply as
motion, but in connection with the mass moved, is tech-
nically called kinetic ener<j>j. AVhen the stone is brought
to rest this kinetic energy remains in the movements of
the stone's particles and of the particles of air around it —
either in actual displacements, or in the vibratory motions
whose efl'ects are rendered sensible as heat. The former
neither falls under definition a nor under definition h,
because the particles moved draw towards some and from
other particles. Nor can the vibrating particles be said to
display attractive or repulsive (aggi-egating or separating)
tendencies, their motions being essentially alternating. Mr.
Clodd's — or rather, I suppose, Mr. Allen's — barrel of gun-
powder has, on the other hand, unquestionably separating
or expansive or repulsive potencies, which become kinetic
when the powder is fired. Yet even here definition h does not
apply to these tendencies in the rigid or definitive manner
imagined by Mr. Allen and conceded by Mr. Clodd. The
bottom of the barrel is pressed towards the ground bj- the
action of what is technically called the explosive force of the
powder ; a fragment of the barrel, after flying a certain dis-
tance, strikes some other body : in each case the action dis-
played— so for as the wood, the ground, and the struck body
are concerned — is of the kind producing motions drawing
particles of ponderable matter together, not separating them.
If this reasoning is objected to for the reason tluit the
particles of gunpowder alone are to be understood as having
potential energy according to definition h, the fault lies with
the definition, which either says too much or too little — too
much if we are to be thus limited, too little when the case
of the stone is considered (for where are the particles
potentially tending to separate in the stone's case ?)

The fact is, Mr. Allen has obviously misunderstood alto-
gether the trouble in regard to the inexact expressions em-
ployed occasionally by Sir R. Grove and Professor Tyndall
(one may add Professor Huxley and Mr. Herbert Spencer),
a mistake arising rather from the assurance that they could
not be misunderstood, than from want of familiarity with
the accepted limitations of the words " force " and " energy "
as technically used from the time of Newton tintil now —
in treatises on dynamics.

Sir W. R. Grove was taken to task, in somewhat pedantic
sort, for speaking of electricity, heat, light, and the like, as
physical " forces " in the title of his well-known work and
elsewhere, instead of always (as in many parts of that
treatise) speaking of them as " afl'ections of matter." He
in eflTect replied that the word " forces " as thus used could
not well be misunderstood. His chief object had been
to show that those " aflfections of matter " are " modes of
motion," and every one would know that " modes of motion "
cannot be described as " forces." Considering specifically
(p. 18) the objection that "the term force" should be used
" not as expressing the eflTect " (that is, motion or some
afiection of matter involving or depending on motion) " but
as that which produces the eflfect," he says, " this is true,

172

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

and in this its ordinary sense I shall use it in these pages " —
because " the terra has thus a potential meaning, to depart
from which toould render lamjtuige uniiUeUi/jible " ; though,
as he quite correctly points out (the remark in no sense
i.ffeoting his opinion as to the impropriety of any attempt
to alter the technical use of the word "force"), " we must
iruard against supposing that we know essentiall}' more of
the phenomena by saying they are produced by something "
( force), " which something is only a word derived from the
constancy and similarity of the phenomena" {motions of
various kinds) we seek to explain by it.

Assuredly Sir \V. R. Grove would be far from welcoming
the proposed limitation of the word " foi-ce " to one-half of
its accepted significance, and the substitution of the word
" energy " for the other half, with accompanying maltreat-
ment of " attraction " and " repulsion " scarce!}' less pain-
fully tending to (and suggestive of) bewilderment.

Professor Tyndall was very sharply, and as I think most
unfairly, taken to task for using the word " force " (both in
the singular and plural) as Sir W. E. Grove had done.
Yet Professor Tait was undoubtedly right in saying that
" the sense in which Newton uses the word ' force ' is the
sense in which we should continually use it" (if we are
professedly using it technically) " if we desire to avoid
intellectual confusion." And certainly Tyndall, who re-
peatedly distinguishes between attractive and repulsive
'• forces," and clearly recognises the correct meaning of
"energy" as simply the capacity (potential or active) for
doing work, would ha sorely troubled at the thought that
any looseness of expression on his part, where his real
meaning could not be misunderstood, should have suggested
the astounding idea of merging the distinctive word
" attraction " into the general word " force," and the
equally distinctive word " repulsion " into the word
" energy," which (as constantly used in scientific treatises
on dynamical physics) is perfectly distinct from all three.

Professor Huxley, whom I hold to be the most perfect
living model of the man of science (because of all men
known to me he is the readiest alike to maintain what he
considers should be maintained and to concede what he
considers should be conceded), used the word "forces"
where, as he afterwards noted, the more general term
" powers " would have been better. Is he likely, therefore,
to rejoice to see the good old word which has now for two
centui'ies done the .same office in ten thousand scientific
treatises invited to do half duty, and another word of
entirely distinct character invited to abandon its own useful
office and do the other half of that duty] Far from it.
AVith characteristic manliness he goes out of his way (as
weaker men v.'ould hold, but such a man as he can spare
the extra travel when it seems necessary) to say that he
would rather now write " powers " where he formerly wrote
" forces." How Mr. Clodd has come to regard this frank
admission by Professor Huxley that the word " force "
should be limited to its proper use, into support of the
entire misuse of that word (and others) I altogether fail to
understand. What men like Sir Wm. Thomson (whom
Sir R. Grove — rather significantly — calls Thompson), Pro-
fessors Cayly, Adams, Sylvester, and their like, would say
to the suggestion that the words "Force," "Attraction,"
"Repulsion," and "Energy" should be shuffled about as
Mr. Allen has suggested I can guess, though I would
rather not say. Tlie mildest punishment they would
intlict — though I fancy it would not be found very easy
penance — would be that Mr. Allen sliould suggest some
way of expressing the ideas now represented by " Energy,"
" potential energy," and " kinetic energy " ; for assuredly
his new definitions, whether regarded as rigid and definitive
or as loose and ill-fitting, would leave these conceptions

entirely unrepresented. The more severe would suggest
that Mr. Allen should revise according to his novel ideas
the whole body of scientific literature relating to matters
dynamical. The nature of the task may be inferred from
the first two steps which would have to be taken. How-
would Mr. Allen re-word the two first laws of ISTewton,
remembering that, though originally written in Latin, these
laws were repeatedly referred to by Newton as worded in
English, thus? — -

I. Everij body ■pe.rseveres in its state of rest or of uniform
motion in a riyht line, unless it is comjMlled to change that
stale hy forces impressed on it.

II. The alteration of ^notion is even proportional to the
motive FORCE impressed, and is made in the direction of the
right line in which that force is impressed.

ilay I be permitted to present a parable for the benefit
of — whomsoever it maj' concern 1

For centuries the words " trade " and " wealth " (" poten-
tial "and "material") had been used in all treatises on
Political Economy in the sense in which tliey are still
understood. But it chanced that several writers — among
them an able theologian, a learned lawyer, and an ex-
perienced archaeologist — in writing on their several subjects
used the word " trade " where the more general word " com-
merce " would have been better, and seemed (but only
seemed) to confound the word " mani;factures " with the
expression "material wealth." A pedant or two corrected
this, though the writers criticised pointed out that no one
could misunderstand their meaning. Hearing of this, an
entomologist of great acumen as a naturalist and singularly
graceful as a scientific writer, but whose studies gave him
no actual occasion to write about trade or commerce or
manufactures, or political economy generally — who, in fact,
rather disliked these subjects — advocated an entire change
in business language. Let us hereafter, said he, call all
forms of importation trade and all forms of exportation
vjealth. ... It was urged that the four good words —
— Trade, Import, Export, and Wealth — would all be put to
entirely new uses, if the change were adopted ; that the
literature of political economy would have to be rewritten ;
and that new expressions would now have to be adopted to
express what had heretofore been understood by Wealth,
Material Wealth, and so forth. One might as well, said
one, speaking as in a parable, propose that Dress should
signify the Clothing of Men, and Costume the Clothing of
Women. Whether the innovator (who had in the mean-
time taken to writing fairy tales) was convinced, this de-
ponent sayeth not. But the new usage was not adopted^
and it never will be.

Mr. Grant Allen would do well to test the idea expressed
in his privately published pamphlet by preparing a small
treatise on some dynamical subject involving all four of
those conceptions — " Force," " Energy," " Attraction," and
" Repulsion " — respecting which he has been moved to
anxiety. Unless I mistake, he would find his rigid and
definite meanings perplexingly elastic and confusing. A
pamphlet on the motion of a shell moved by the repvdsive
action of exploding powder, and travelling in a resisting
medium, first against the attractive action of gravity, and
afterwards in response to that action, would afl^ord excellent
exercise, not only for the writer, but for the reader (if the
new nomenclatui'e were consistently adopted), especially if
the shell were suffered to explode just before reaching the
earth, and the movements of its parts (assumed equal and
of given number) were carefully dealt with. Science is
entitled to ask that those who suggest new uses for words
which have been for centuries used {by Her, at any rate) in
determinate ways, should in some such way show the con-
venience and value of the new nomenclature, and manifest

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

173

some sort of right (based on special knowledge) to propose
changes in the language of science.

My protest has been urged in the interests of the class
of writers for whom I my.-elf have striven to cater, and for
whom Mr. Grant Allen and Mr. Clodd have catered most
successfully. The former in particular (I know my friend
Mr. Clodd will not be angry with me for putting the matter
thus) is, to my mind, simply unequalled by all our English
writers on popular science for grace and elegance of style
and versatility of treatment. (It grieves one to the heart
to think that powers such as his should for want of the due
appreciation of science in our day be increasingly wasted on
those who appreciate only sensational fiction.) But it is
because I feel deeply interested in the spread of Found
information about scientific matters among the general public,
that I protest earnestly against changes which, by separating
the language of scientific literature from the language of
exact science, would tend if accepted to make " confusion
■worse confounded " — bj' replacing mere ditficulty of appre-
hension (such as all exact scientific studies involve) by sheer
bewilderment. Carelessness in the use of scientific terms is
doubtless unfortunate ; but studied inaccuracy would be a
disastrous remedv.

THE STAR STORY OF THE FLOOD.

[Continued from j/aye 147.)

jMONG the constellations which have thus
been deprived of their ancient character,
none equalled in interest the great ship
Argo. It is difficult for any one who
studies a modern map of this constellation
to imagine that it was ever like a ship. Nay,
the resemblance cannot now be well traced
even in the heavens, for a reason presently to be con-idered.
Yet the configuration of an immense ship, with lofty, well-
rounded poop, with masts and sails, and deck and keel, is
singularly striking, when the original extent of the con-
stellation (reduced by modern astronomers) and its original
position (changed by that slow precessional reeling of the
earth which has for its period 29,000 years) are taken into
account.

As to the original extent of the gi-eat ship Argo, astro-
nomers of two distinct ages have been at work cutting ofl^
parts of the ship piecemeal. Originally, as the heavens still
tell us, the ship had a noble prow as well as that lofty stern
of which I have spoken. But the astronomers of some
2,500 years ago, in altering the figure of a man standing at
the prow into a Centaur, removed to make the horse part of
the Centaur the stars which had originally formed the prow
of the great ship. (I have no authority for this last state-
ment except the prow-like form which the stars of the
Centaur's body picture ; but for the former there is the
evidence of ancient astronomers that the constellation which
later represented the centaur Cheiron — identified by some
with Noah — originally represented a man, not a man-horse.)
In the time of Eudoxus (about four centuries before Christ),
■whose ideas about the constellations the poet Aratus pre-
sented two centuries later, Argo represented the stern half
of a ship, drawn backwards into harbour. I find that, as
might be expected, thus corresponds with the aspect and
position which the constellation then had. "When at its
full height in the southern skies of Greece, or Egypt, or
Persia, Argo's keel was aslant, the stem end being consider-
ably higher than the fore part, so that as the diurnal
motion carried Argo along stern first, the motion was like
that of a ship drawn stern first up a slant shore. At

present this idea is no longer suggested, the slant being now
so great that nothing but hauling a ship stern first up a cliflf
would correspond with the celestial position and motion of
Argo ; and ships are not so commonly hauled up cliffs in
that manner, that even the most imaginative mind would
find such an idea absolutely forced upon it.

In the time of Eudoxus also, the poop of the ship had
been to some degree interfered with as -nell as the prow,
for some of the stars of the stern are wanted to complete the
figure of the Greater Dog. But probably in Eudoxus's time
there was not the least difficulty in regarding these stars as
doing double duty. The fore-half of the ship had been
bodily removed, but the outline of the stern was not pro-
babh- impaired at all to make room for Canis Major. In
our time, of course, this has happened. The outline remains
still somewliat like that of an ancient poop, but it is not
nearly such a fine poop as the old ship had. Not only the
stare marking the dog's hind quarters have been removed,
but as the outline of the poop is thus contracted, another
group of stars formerly belonging to Argo can no longer be
included within the outline. Out of the stars of this group
Hevelius formed the constellation Noah's Dove, apparently
judging that it was a rather ingenious device to represent
the dove as flying from what was originally the rudder (or
stern oar) of the ark. But the moderns have done worse
even than this, clipping off one part of the keel of the ark
to make, or help in making, a Chameleon, and another part
to help in making a Flying Fish. This was Lacaille's work.
On the other side — that is, in the ship's upper works — he
was equally absurd, setting in the ship's masts — or perhaps
on the roof of the ark — an Air Pump, of all unlikely objects
to occupy such a position. Another modern constellation,
the Southern Cross, though really part of the original ship,
was taken from it long before modern times, to form the
hind feet of the Centaur. The modern astronomer, there-
fore, has not constructed the Cross out of the ark, in which
there might have been found a world of suggestive meaning,
but has abstracted it from what was already an abstraction,
the hinder portion of the centaur Cheiron.

So soon as we picture the stars of this region as they were
in the time of the Great Pyramid, and (practically) for
three or four centuries before and afterwards, we find such
a ship as the modern stellar skies no longer present— a
constellation so striking that even the least observant must
have recognised its ship-like form.

In the first place, Argo fills in the most remarkable part
of the whole heavens. Covering the richest region of the
stellar skies, it is bordered by a broad tract which is abso-
lutely the darkest part of the star-sphere. Between the
thinly strewn region -nhich marks the sails and mast of the
ship as at present pictured, and the long winding stream
of stars marking the sea-serpent Hydra, over a tract ex-
tending from the head and shoulders of the Centaur to the
constertation of the Little Dog — a range of nearly ninety
degrees ! — there is not a single star of the first, second, or
third magnitude, whUe there are only three stars of the
fourth, and very few of the fifth magnitude. The rich tract
formerly occupied by the Great Ark, and now occupied by
the Centaur, Cross, Southern Fly, Argo, the Dove, and
the CJreater Dog, though less in extent than this poverty-
stricken region, contains six first-magnitude stars, twelve
of the second magnitude, thirty-two of the third — that is,
no fewer than fifty stars of the first three magnitudes alone,
besides an amazing waalth of stars of the fourth, fifth, and
sixth magnitudes, and widely spreading masses of the Milky
Wav. Ihe region thus richly crowded with stars of all
orders, and distinguished from the sun-ounding heavens not
only by the poverty of the region just described but also by
another but narrower poverty-stricken region on the other

174

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

side (the keel line of the ship), is about eighty degrees long
and forty degrees broad.

Now, in the time of the Pyramid builders, this region was
so situated that its length was parallel to the horizon when
the region was at its highest above the southern horizon.
Thus the great ship had its proper position as floating on a
sort of heavenly sea, the horizon of which was the celestial
equator, along which was the great Sea-serpent, floating
lazily ouwards — for the motion of the star sphere carried
Hydra forwards, his head reared above the sea level, towards
the west. It is to be noticed also that the elevation of the
ship above the natural horizon of Babylon, Persia, Greece, or
Egypt, was such as to give the ship the most natural appear-
ance possible, for the keel would be actually on the horizon
of the three first-named regions, and raised very little above
the horizon in the latitude of Athens. From a picture
which I have drawn showing the southern skies of Babylon
at midnight in winter — about the time con-esponding to the
middle of December — I find that Argo must then have
pre-sented such an appearance that it would require no
liveliness of imagination whatever to picture a grand
celestial ship there — nay, rather that only the dullest
imagination could fail to have this idea suggested to it most
strongly. Certainly the scene then presented by the star-
strewn skies .above the southern horizon was more striking
than any which the skies present now, in any latitude and
at any hour.

Recognising this remarkably suggestive aspect of the
heavens in the days of the pyramid builders, and remem-
bering the importance attached to the ship Argo alike by
ancient observers of the stars, and as belonging to ancient
myths, I was led to inquire further respecting the constella-
tions brought successively above the southern horizon as the
year passed on.

In the first place, I observe that preceding the arrival of
the great Ship .as the ruling southern constellation at night,
there came a long array of those watery constellations —
Capricornus, Aquarius, Pisces, and Eridanus — which the
ancient astronomers regarded as undoubtedly associated with
Hood and deluge on the earth. Till far later times, the
belief prevailed that when all the planets are conjoined in
Capricorn the world would be destroyed by flood ; but the
superstition had its origin in that remote time to which we
are now extending our survey. An old idea of mine was
thus recalled to me, that in the constellations of the watery
kind (as the old astrological astronomers considered them),
the ship Argo, and certain others, the story of the flood as
related in Genesis is presented — men either finding in the
lieavens the record of what had happened on the earth, or
picturing a series of events in the heavens which they later
transformed into a terrestrial legend. But now I had the
means of dealing with this idea much more satisfactorily
than when I touched upon it formerly in a merely sug-
gestive way. For, in the first place, I now had the' exact
aspact of the stellar heavens for every month and every
hour of the night at the time to which the story must be
referred, and in the latitudes whence the Egyptian and
Babylonian astronomers observed the heavens ; and in the
second place, the reading of the Ninevitish cuneiform
inscriptions on the one hand and the study of Egyptian
Biblical lore on the other, had thrown enough light on the
deluge narrative to show how it was in a general sense to
be interpreted.

In what follows, I employ the story of Noah in Genesis
chiefly as giving the best record we probably have of what
at the time of the Captivity was the accepted account of the
deluge as to times and seasons. Probably the cuneiform
inscriptions, as read by Messrs. George Smith, Sayce, and
others, present rather a popular form of the legend than

the full record which the priests of Babylon possessed, and
which they were ready to communicate to the more learned
and devout among the Hebrew priests. At any rate, it is
clear that precise details as to dates were given to the
scribes and priests of Judah, and by them transferred to
their sacred books, the narrative being only so far modified
as to emphasise the story of the origin of the Hebrew race
as the chosen people of God.

The story, alike in Egypt, in Babylon, and in Jerusalem,
relates to the tenth of the first generations dealt with
by legend or history. Noah is the tenth antediluvian
patriarch ; Hor is the tenth Egyptian god ; Xisuthrus
is the tenth Chaldean king. The idea associated with the
deity, king, or patriarch — according to the race among
whom the story appears — is that of rest. The singular
prophecy by Lamech respecting Noah, thus finds a partial
interpretation : " This same shall comfort us for our work
and for the toil of our hands because of the ground which
the Lord hath cursed." But the explanation becomes
clearer when we recognise in Noah a solar hero, and in the
account of the deluge a very ancient solar myth — as Gold-
ziher, Steinthal, and other Hebrew scholars (rejecting Pro-
fessor Max Miiller's idea that the Hebrews had no
mythology) have learned to recognise. Xisuthrus is the
sun at setting ; the journey of Xisuthrus is the journey of
the sun at night below the horizon : but also, as in all solar
myths, the sun is dealt with here as god of the year, not
solely or even chiefly as god of the day. Thus, the hero of
the deluge legend is the god of winter, which, like night,
brings rest from agricultural labours.

As in all solar m3'ths, however, we find in the legend of
the deluge the record of a full year, and — as has long been
considered remarkable by Bible commentators — precisely
one year of 365 days. The life of Enoch, it is to be noticed,
is given as 3G5 j-ears, and it is noteworthy that a certain
confusion may be recognised between Enoch and Noah, as
between their Egyptian and Babylonian analogues. The
seventh Egyptian god, like the tenth, is named Hor ; and,
again, Xisuthrus, the Babylonian Noah, is translated after
the close of his achievements as a solar hero, as Enoch is
translated after his solar life of 30.5 days. It is true that
the year of 365 days was not in general use either in Egypt
or ChaldsEa ; but the length of the year was known to tho
astronomers of the Pyramid time with much greater
accuracy than even the period of 365 days would indicate —
probably it was known within a few minutes of the true
value. Just here it may be noticed that the Jewish
Midrash compares the course of the sun to a ship coming
from Akramania (wherever that may be) with 365 ropes,
and to a ship coming from Alexandria which has 354
ropes (354 being the number of days in a lunar year).
There is a Phrygian legend that the king or patriarch
Annakos, i.e. Enoch, being more than 300 years old, pre-
dicted the flood, and prayed with many tears and lamenta-
tions for the people. The dates directly associated with the
flood in the Babylonian account, presented (we may
assume) in Genesis, belong to Mesopotamia, where great
floods attain their greatest height in spring, at the season
indicated as the time when Noah's flood w-as at its highest.
Dr. Bell tells of a flood in Mesopotamia so high at this
season, that as far as the eye could reach nothing could be
seen from the highest tower of the Baghdad mosques but a
great waste of wateis, studded here and there with a few date
groves, which appeared like little islands : '■ Thousands of
square miles," he says, " were at that time under water."
These floods commonly begin towards the end of October,
and the waters continue to increase, though the rains are
not continuous until sju-ing. But, of course, the Baby-
lonian record of the flood, though it may have been

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

175

suggested by a natural Mesopotamian flood of this kind,
relates to a Hood much more widespread and far more
terrible ia its eSbcts. We have here intermixed, after the
customary mythical fashion, the magnified and intensided
events of an ordinary flood, the diurnal progress of the sun-
god (and especially his joui-ney in a ship beueatli the
horizon) and the annual journey of the sun as god of the
year, during a time when all the heavenly powers combined
their influence in the watery constellations.

So much premised, let ns trace the annual progress of the
constellations which, at the time of the Pyramid builders
and their Baliylonian fellow-workers in astronomy were
below the horizon of the star sphere — marked by the
equator — and let us see how far the constellations as
pictured corrft'^ponded with the . events recorded in the
narrative. It is to be observed that the mere agreement of
a few cases would count for little. The agreement of several,
in precise order, as well as in the characteristics of the con-
stellations, would be more significant. But if we shall find
the whole circuit of the star-sjihere corresponding with the
Babylonian narrative as presented in Genesis, and even the
dates and periods there mentioned adequately represented,
then, as it seems to me (regarding the matter as merely one
of probabilities), the evidence will be decisive.

I picture to myself observers stationed in the grand
meridional gallery of the Pyramid of Cheops, or in some
similar observing passige in the Temple of the Planets at
Babylon, watching, night after night, throughout the year,
the constellations occupying the southern skies below the
celestial ecjuator — which at the Egyptian observatory ranged
sixty degrees above the southern horizon and .some two
degrees less above the Babylonian. Only it must be
remembered that the constellations they would see on the
midnight sky would be those whose influences would affect
their solar god, not at the season of observation, but iust
half a year before or after, when the sun would be travelling
through or past those constellations.

Beginning, then, with the seventeenth day of the second
month, which all agi-ee would correspond with the end of
October, we find the part of the stellar heavens in conjunc-
tion with the sun to be the beginning of the watery constel-
lation C'apricornus, regarded by ancient astronomers as of
all the signs the one which most directly threatened flood.
Thence for the space of nearly five months' journey the sun
was in conjunction with none but watery constellations.
After the Seagoat came the Water-Bearer Aquarius, whose
jar and the streams flowing from it are pictured very strik-
ingly in the heavens, however imperfectly shown in the
modern much-i-educed constellation. Then follow Pisces,
the Sea-Monster Cetus, and the streams of Eridanus. (In
my opinion the water streams from the vessel borne aloft by
Aquarius were regarded as extending over C'apricornus on
the one side, and on the other over the Fishes, the Sea
Monster, and the great river Eridanus, the whole of this
large region of the heavens being most curiously traversed
by a network of interlacing star-streams.) For one hundred
and fifty days the sun was in conjunction with these watery
signs, viz , from the end of October till about the time of the
spring equinox, when also the terrestrial skies in Babylon
seemed to respond to the.se watery influences. Now it is
noteworthy that, although this watery region extended over
one hundred and fifty days' sun-journey, the special flood
signs extended only over forty days of the solar path. From
the beginning of Capricornus to the place where the main
stream from the water-can of Aquarius crosses the sun's
path — or from near Alpha of the Seagoat to near Phi of
the Water-Carrier, there are just forty days of solar travel.
This corresponds precisely with the record of the flood.
The rain was on the earth forty days and forty nights — and

after the end of an hundred and fifty days (including the
forty) the waters decreased.

At this stage we find, in the stellar story of the flood,
the Ark floating on the wide expanse of pictured sea. Above,
along the equator, lies (or rather lay, at the time to which
we are looking back) the fall length of the great Sea-Serpent ;
below that water horizon extended a broad tract of star-
less sky ; and below that again the starry splendour of the
great ship her.self.

Counting now to the tenth month on the first day of the
month, ■' when the tops of the mountains beg.an to be seen, we
reach the place where Cor Hydr», the Sea-serpent's Heart,
stood on the equator, the horizon of the celestLal sea. Then
followed forty days more, at the end of which Noah opened
the window of the ark which he had made, and sent forth
a raven." Now just at the corresponding pomt we find
the ancient constellation of the Rxven, standing on the Sea-
serpent, or just above the equator, as if finding no place on
the land. If we were to trust the modern pictures of the
Haven, this might seem of little moment. For with charac-
teristic perver.sity, the modern map-makers have turned this
constellation upside down, and the case becomes one of
those referred to l)y Mr. Lang, when the liveliest imagina-
tion can trace no resemblance between a star gi-oup and the
object pictured. But the old globes and charts set this
light. The raven is in reality a very characteristic bird.
His high-shouldered attitude when at rest, and a certain
angularity of wing then shown, are features which strike
the observer at once. Now the constellation Corvus, repre-
senting the chief of the Corvidce, the Raven, is also striking.
It is a small group, but well marked, and surrounded by
conxparatively vacant skies. So soon as we picture a Eaven
standing upright on the Sea-serpent's back, not as in modern
pictures in the attitude of a fowl picking up seed, we recog-
nise the outline of a raven in the star-group, as distinctly as
we see a Dolphin in the group so called, a crown in Corona
Borealis, and other objects in similar small but well-defined
groups. Thus the Haven of the flood story is well pictured
in the heavens, and occupies precisely the position corre-
sponding to the dates in the Babylonian record, as preserved
for us in (ienesis.

Then follow three weeks, or twenty-one days, correspond-
ing to the intervals at which the dove was sent forth. I
might dwell on this reference to the week, the first of the
kind in the Bible pages, as of itself sufficing to indicate the
astronomical, and especially Babylonian origin of the story.
But I pass on to consider the I'est of the record. I cannot
find three doves in the stellar picture, nor could they be
reasonably looked for. It is curious, however, that there
are three characteristic undulations of the tail of Hydra,
i.f. stars which recpiire to bo connected by an undulating
line to keep up the serpentine idea — ranging over precisely
three weeks of the diurnal motion of the star-sphere. The
crests of the undulations are marked (1) by the stars
Gamma and Psi; {i) by the star Pi; and (.3) by a set of
five small stars bearing no Greek letter, but numbered by
Flamsteed 5-i to 59.

And now we have reached the prow end of the ark, and
find standing there the human part of the Centaur, a fine
manlike figure. This constellation has always been regarded
as bearing sacrifice to the Altar, Ara. He was upright in the
southern skies at the time we are dealing with, a circum-
stance which helps the imagination in picturing the figure
of a man. His head was marked by a group of small stars ;
Theta and Iota marked his shoulders, Alpha and Beta his
feet. A long straight row of stars, extending on the east to
Kappa, marked the spear or rod, on which ho bore an
animal, later called a wolf, towards the altar. Few of the
human constellations are so characteristically defined in the

176

* KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

heavens as the man part of the Centaur, with his spear and
offering for sacrifice. Standing upright, some twenty-five
decrees in height, and so that as seen from the ascending
passage of the Great Pyramid, he just stood, when due
touth, within the portion of the heavens commanded by the
srrand eallery, this stellar figure must have presented
stroncrly the idea of a man offering sacrifice — at least to a
race accustomed to see their priests daily engaged in sacri-
ficial observances.

But the Altai-, where is that t The constellation of the
Altar is there still, both in the heavens and in our maps.
But since the fifteenth century the altar has always been
represented upside down, insomuch that the Centaur is
represented as carefully applying a wolf to the altar's in-
verted base, a proceeding which would have seemed un-
reasonable even to one of the drunken Lapithre. However,
there is luckily no sort of doubt that this arrangement of
the altar is only a " modern improvement." The Farnese
globe shows the Altar upright — that is, as upright as it
could be since the precession of the equinoxes tipped it over.
Manilius distinctly suggests its uprightness when he speaks
of the Altar as

Ara, ferens thuris, stellis imitantibus, iijnem.
For an inverted Altar could not have been seen as bearing any-
thing. Turning to the heavens of 3400 or 3500 B.C., we find
the Altar truly upright, and we see the smoke of the incense,
imitated by stars in the rich streams of the IMilky Way,
which extend from the altar like ascending clouds and
wreaths of smoke, over the Scorpion on one side and over
Sagittarius on the other. The brightest galactic stream
here is that over Sagittarius, where, indeed, the 'Milky Way
has at once its most resplendent and its most variegated
aspect. The incense smoke from the altar on the side
towards Scorpio fades off into the dark background of the
sky, but on the side towards Sagittarius there is a bright
and continuous stream, gathering in places into I'ich cluster-
ing masses.

The sacrifice of Noah is accepted by Deity, the smoke
bearing the essence of the fire-consumed flesh was of a sweet
savour in His nostrils, to use the quaint expression of later
Bible writers. " And God said," says the ancient record we
are following, " This is the token of the covenant which I
make between Me and you and every living creature that is
■with you for perpetual generations : I do set my bow in the
cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between Me
and the earth." It may be regarded as a mere coincidence,
though strange as coming after the coincidences already
noted, but certain it is that in the cloud rising from the
Altar, the bow of Sagittarius was recognised by the ancient
worshippers of the sun and moon and stars. There is the
figure of a man or god, standing on the other side of the
Altar, facing the man who offers sacrifice (coining upright,
like him, on the meridian of the time we are considering),
and this figure holds out in the cloud from the Altar a celes-
tial bow (twenty degrees in length), which might well have
been regarded by the astronomical priests of those days as
typifying the rainbow, and its promise as recorded in the
ancient story of the flood.

And here in the stellar skies, as in the detailed
record, the year has completed its full circle. Imme-
diately beyond the figure of the being holding the bow,
we come upon the constellation of the Sea-goat, where
the story of the flood begins again in the heavens.
On the seventeenth day of the second month the flood
began, according to the record in Genesis, on the seven
and twentieth day of the second month was the earth diy —
a year of twelve lunar months had passed, 354 days (the
354 ropes of the old sun-ship story), and in addition eleven
days, completing the solar year of 365 days. If we have I

not here a solar myth, pictured in the stellar heavens, and,
as it were, reflected in the terrestrial skies, and the annual
floods of Mesopotamia, then it would seem as though all
belief in solar myths and nature myths must be rejected ;
for certainly in not one single case have the believers in
such myths found such evidence as we have found here.
I do not say that no such evidence might be collected for
those other myths. 1 believe that by the help of astro-
nomical research the evidence of those myths can be greatly
strengthened. But certainly in the present case, the first I
think which has ever been dealt with in this manner, the
evidence seems very striking. If it is all to be exi)lained
away as due to mere chance coincidence, then must the
coincidence be regarded as so remarkable, that even as such
it is well worth studying.

GROWTH OF THE ALPS.*

HE Alps have been studied longer and more
thoroughly than any others of the great
mountain ranges of the earth. Their struc-
ture is, in fact, typical. Although it is
now considered doubtful whether any of
the exposed portions of the Alps can be
regarded as of Archaean age, there is
absulutel}' decisive evidence of the growth of the Alps from
Silurian strata through all the higher primary formations,
and thence upwards and onwards through the secondary
and tertiary periods to the great glacial age which was, as it
were, the threshold of the period through which Europe is
now passing. The record we have to read is necessarily
imperfect. The forces by which stratified rocks are sub-
jected to plications and fractures have acted with amazing
energy on the Alpine strata. The characteristic features of
the lower strata have gradually disappeared among those of
the crystalline masses forced through them. " The whole
geological aspect of these mountains," says Professor A.
Geikie, " is suggestive of former intense commotion." The
record has also been in large part destroyed by denuda-
tion. '• Twisted and crumpled," Professor Geikie proceeds,
" the solid sheets of limestone may be seen as it were to
writhe from the base to the summit of a mountain ; yet
they present everywhere their truncated ends to the air,
and from these ends it is easy to see that a vast amount of
material has been worn away. Apart altogether from what
may have been the shape of the ground immediately after
the upheaval of the chain, there is evidence on every side of
gigantic denudation. The sub-aerial forces that have been
at work upon the Alpine surface ever since it first appeared
have dug out valleys, sometimes acting in original depres-
sions, sometimes eroding hollows down the slopes. More-
over, they have planed down the flexures, excavated lake
basins, scarped the mountain sides into clifi" and cirque,
notched and furrowed the ridges, splintered the crests into
chasm and aiguille, until no part of the original surface now
remains in sight."

But though the Alps thus " remain a monument of
stupendous earth-throes, followed by prolonged and gigantic
denudation," they yet attest with sufiicient clearness the
processes by which the material of their structure was
originally formed. The volumes in which the record was
written are all more or less incomplete, but none are abso-
lutely missing — unless it be the first, if we can speak of
the first volume of a series which in point of fact can scarcely
be said to have had a beginning.

* Chiefly from an article on "The Everlasting Hills," in the
Fortnight!!/ Itevierc.

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^A/^LEDGE ♦

IT",

The first leaves of the first extant volume are so blurred
that their meaning is doubtful. Formerly it was held that
a continuous belt of absolutely Archaean rocks can be recog-
nised westwards of the central portion of the Alpine range.
But now it is doubted whether the Alpine formations once
regarded as Archasan aie really so. Yet even holding
them, as the only possible alternative compels us, to be
but metamorphosed equivalents of what originally were
lower Palfeozoic strata, their record i^: scarcely less im-
pressive.

A little higher — that is, a little later in the volume — we
find unmistakable Sihu-ian, Devonian, Carboniferous, and
Permian rocks, uimiistakable becau.se of the fossil forms
present in tliem. The oldest fossils actually recognised are
Upper Silurian, and speak of a time which, even at the
most moderate computation, must be set twenty millions of
years back. No geologist, no palceontologist, no biologist of
repute would admit any approach to so recent a date as
that ; but asti'onomical and physical considerations appear
to suggest that we should to that degree shorten the
immense periods of time which the geologist regards as
demonstrated by the terrestrial record. Taking only that
degree of remoteness, and noting that these Upper Silurian
strata rest on unfossiliferous ci-ystalline rocks which are
certainly much older, our record goes far enough back to
overwhelm us by the unimaginable time intervals of which
it bears testimony.

It is curious to read, in these older books of the earth
bible, not only of organic remains speaking of the former
existence of seas covering the innermost core of the Alpine
range, but of abundant corals of Devonian age. For corals
are the products of such slow proces.ses of formation that
they are eloquent in the evidence they give respecting time.
In the carboniferous strata, which belong to a later portion
of this earliest Alpine record, we find evidence of an abun-
dant flora, no less than sixty forms of vegetation character-
istic of that era having been recognised. How many
thousands of years the sea stood there and coral reefs were
builded up, how long the interval may have been during
which for a while these seas retreated and forests grew on
the low-lying lands above their level, we cannot tell. But
we know that those periods must have been incom-
parably longer than those by which we measure the history
of man.

Red .sandstone tracts attest the progress of the Permian
era and renewed presence of the sea. Higher (measuring
stratigraphically), and therefore later, we find limestone
strata crowded with evidence of marine life. Wiiole layers
of these Triassic i-ocks are formed of the crinoid stems of
fos.sil echinoderms, sea-urchins, brachiopods (including the
famili.ar* but most ancient mollusc, the common terebratula),
are found in large numbers. Coi-alsnre abundant, and fossil
cephalopods, including multitudes of nautili, tell us not only
of the forms of life present in that ancient Triassic sea, but
also that the more ancient seas could never have departed
wholly from the Alpine region, seeing that many of these
Triassic fossils are survivals of forms of life belonging to
the Palaeozoic period. In passing it may be remarked that
certain strata, somewhat metamorphosed but manifestly
belonging to the Trias, were penetrated in piercing the Mont
Cenis tunnel, and showed a thickness of more than thirteen
thousand feet. On the Northern Apennines these strata
include the celebrated statuary marbles of ( 'arrara.

* Familiar in appearance, and so commonly found by the sea-
shore, attached to submarine bodies, that probably every one who
has ever walked beside the sea has handled dozens of their shells;
yet science not only recognises their vast antiquity, but has given
them verj' hard names, calling them " pala;obranchiate acephalous
bivalve brachiopod molluscs."

The great thickness of the Triassic limestone in the
Eastern Alps a[ipears to show that they must have formed
in open seas, free from inroads of sandy or muddy sediment.
It is believed by some that in the conglomeratic dolomites
of the Eastern Alps we can recognise signs of the breakers
of that ancient sea, grinding down the coral reefs and carry-
ing the thin dolomites into the lagoons within.

Higher and later yet, in the Jurassic sei ies, we find similar
evidence. Reddish well-bedded limestones, so crowded with
Terebratula diphi/a as to be called the Diphya limestone,
lighter lime.stones full of ceplialopnds, immense coral reefs —
all these atte.st the long-Listing intliience of this second stage
of the great ^Icsozoic or secondary period in the formation
of the Alpine range.

Then came the last stage of the secondary period, the
Cretaceous. It is strange to picture a time when, where
now the Alps rear their snow-covered pe;iks, there were
wide seas, beneath whose surface such layers were forming
.as those out of which the chalk cliffs of Albion have been
carved. Nay, we have evidence that in that selfsame
region were once seas bounded by just such clifls, for while
we find layers of Cretaceous formation hundreds of feet
thick in the Alps, we find also intercalations of coal-bejiring
fresh- water beds, showing how the seas from time to time
retreated for periods long enough to permit of the aggre-
gation of these coal-bearing strata. From some of the lake-
beds of that age in the Alps large numbers of reptilian
remains have been obtained, incliuling dinosaurs, turtles, a
crocodile, a lizird, and a pterodactyle ; in all, no fewer than
fourteen genera and eighteen species. Hut, of course, the
greater portion of the matter belonging to the Cretaceous
era in the Alps is of marine formation.

And now the record brings us to recent times — not more,
perhaps, than a million of years ago, or some such trifling
period as that.

Of the earlier tertiary era, the Eocene, the dawn of
modern life-forms has left clear evidence in the Alpine rock-
masses. A remarkable feature of the Eocene strata in the
Alpine region is the presence of immense erratic boulders of
far greater antiquity, apparently carried off by great glaciers
from Archaean masses such as still exist in' Southern
Bohemia, and borne across sea on ice-floes to tlie Alpine
shores. But if a wide sea existed during the Eocene age in
the Alpine region, there were alternations during which
land appeared, for in the Northern TjtoI a seam of coal
thirty-two feet thick occurs as an Eocene deposit.

The Oligocene .age, still nearer to our own time, is repre-
sented with wonderful fulness in the Swiss Alps. Massive
mountains, such as the Rigi and Rossberg, are almo.st wholly
formed from Oligocene strata, several thousand feet in thick-
ness, out of which they have beeti carved. Tliey attest very
clearly the presence of the sea, but they have also preserved
in singular perfection large ntunbers of the plants originally
clothing the neighbouring Alpine shores, and even the
insects which, in those far-off ages, flitted through the
Alpine woodlands.

In the Miocene or latest portion of the tertiary age we
have clearer and fuller evidence yet. " In the Oeningen
beds," says Archibald Geikie, " so gently have the leaves,
flowers, and fruits fallen, and so well have they been pre-
served, that we may actually trace the alternation of the
seasons by the succession of the diflerent conditions of the
plants. Selecting 482 of those plants which admit of com-
parison, Heer remarks that 131 might be referred to a tem-
perate, 266 to a fub-tropical, and 85 to a tropical zone."
Between 800 and 900 species of insects have been obtained
from Oeningen. Wood-beetles were especially numerous
and large. " Nor did the larger animals escape preserva-
tion," to quote Geikie's rather odd expressiou, in the silt of

178

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

[June 1, 1888.

tlie Oeningen Lake. Tapirs, mastodons, rhinoceros, musk
deer, apes, opossums, three-toed horses, were among the in-
habitants of that Alpine region. Ancient ruminants long
since extinct were numerous. The huge dinotherium floated
on the lake, or held on to the banks by the huge tusks of
his under-jaw. Frogs, toads, lizards, snakes, squirrels, hares,
beavers, were abundant, as well as numbers of small carni-
vores to feed upon them ; for if Nature " never makes
mouths but she finds food," she assuredly attends to the
converse arrangement with at least equal anxiety.

The last stage of all — that is, the last of all the grander
stages of geologic time — belongs to the glacial era. As far
as Lyons along the Rhone valley, extending through the
transverse valleys of the Jura as far as Ornans (near
Besancjon), along the Rhine valley above Basle, over the
Black Forest, and down the valley of the Danube beyond
Sigmaringen eastwards (joining the glaciers from the
Bavarian Alps) as far as Munich, far out into the plains
of Lombardy on the south, the moraines of the mighty
Alpine glaciers of the Pleistocene age can be recognised.
In some places the moraine rests on marine Pliocene beds ;
and there are reasons for believing that In several directions
the glaciers reached the sea, as those of Greenland do now.
The Great Ice Age, whose stupendous records thus remain,
was not continuous. In interglacial periods the ice retreated,
and allowed an abundant vegetation to flourish, even in the
heart of Switzerland. The strata belonging to these milder
periods overlie the moraines of more ancient glaciers, inter-
stratified with sands and river gravels, and are in turn sur-
mounted by erratic boulders, the product of a later glacial
era.

With these Pleistocene pages, bringing the history down
to within perhaps a hundred thousand years of our own
time, our study of the Alpine record may well cease. It is
but one set of books, one set out of many of like nature,
some promising to be more striking still in their teaching
when they have been fully studied. Other mountain ranges
speak of still more stupendous processes of formation, and
even of vaster time-intervals. Others, less massive, speak
nevertheless of a more venerable age, since they have now
gone far upon their road to decay. Others, although they
have become mere wrecks, are yet more interesting as being
the earth's most venerable antiques.

The hills are indeed " everlasting," viewed as men must
view them. Even as the stellai' regions are for us practically
infinite, so do the records of the earth run over periods
which are for us practically eternal. Yet in another and
a grander sense the everlasting hills are evanescent.

They flow
From form to form, and nothing stands ;
Like mists they melt, the solid lands —
Like clouds they slia|ie themselves and go.

Geological AHCaiTBCTURB. — A curious effect of the wear and
tear to which the earth's crust is ever being subjected is exhibited
in the singularly capped pinnacles e.tisting on the South River in
the Wahsatch Mountains. There are hundreds of these slender
pillars, ranging in height from forty to 400 feet, most of them
crowned by large caps of stone. Tliey are not works of human art,
as might almost be imagined, but are the memorial monuments of
the once rounded hills, from which they have been cut by the action
of air and water. These pinnacles alone remain of some square
miles of solid rock, which has been washed away to a depth of
too feet. The greater hardness of the surface has caused it to
resist corrosion more than the underlying rock, thus leaving the
huge stone caps perched high in air on the points of the thin
columns. At one point, while this carving process has been going
on, a thin wall of rock was penetrated, leaving a lofty natural
bridge or arch, which adds to the picturesqueness of a remarkable
landscape.

DEPENDING

SIMPLE MECHANICAL TRICKS
ON GRAVITY.

MONG mechanical tricks few are
effective than those depending on

more
ravily,
and few are more readily managed, the
constructions required for such tricks being
usually very simi)le. They are also highly
instructive and suggestive. It is indeed
easy for the young mechanician, as soon as
he has caught the principle on which they depend, to
devise new tricks, not less striking than those more
familiarly known.

In the first place it should be noted that in most of the
mechanical tricks depending on gravity the observer is to
some degree deluded ; for the selfsame principle of gravity
may be illustrated in such a way that the experiment
seems natural and ordinary, or in another which makes it
appear surprising and even startling.

Take, for instance, the experiment of suspending a weight
on a coin standing on edge upon the point of a needle. This is
illustrated sufliciently in fig. 1. Two knives K and K' are
thrust into a cork C, into the under side of which, as shown
in the figure, a coin, ss' (a shilling is the most convenient)
is thrust. When this combination is placed in the manner

Fig. 1.

Fig. 2.

shown, so that the under edge of the coin rests on the point
of a needle n, fixed vertically in any way (as by thrusting it
through a cork in the mouth of bottle B B'), the apparently
unstable poising is found to be in reality perfectly stable.
The knives can be struck so as either to .set the balanced
combination oscillating or to set it rotating upon the needle's
point, without any risk of the balance being destroyed.

Though this experiment or trick has a surprising ap-
pearance, the principle on which it depends may be illus-
trated in practically the same way without causing any
surprise whatever ; and though this is not the thing
specially aimed at in mechanical tricks, yet it is instructive
to see how a trick which seems surprising when perfoi'med
in a particular way resolves itself into a quite ordinary
experiment when difi'erently arranged.

This may be done ibr the trick we have considered by
means of such an arrangement as is shown in fig. 2. Here a
needle or other .sharp-pointed support is fixed vei'tically
into a bar A B, and on the point of this a wire beaiing two
weights W and W', and attached in the manner shown to
a disc D (which may be a shilling if preferred), is set
simjjly hanging upon the needle's point. In this experi-
ment it is so obvious that the case is merely one of suspen-
sion, the equilibrium being akin to the swinging of the
pendulum, that the experiment has scarcely even any
interest for the observer : he sees at once that the wired
weights ouf/hl to hang freely and .safely on the needle's
point. But it is obvious that if we remove the part of the
wire under the weights, and replace the parts D W and
D W by straight wires we have reproduced — without alter-

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

179

ing the character of the experiment — the selfsame conditions
which produce a more surprising result in the case illus-
trated in fig. 1.

There is a familiar toy which represents a di-agoon
mounted on a galloping horse. This hoi-seman may be set
prancing on the edge of a table in the liveliest fashion with-
out any risk of an upset, and when so moving seems to pre-
sent a perplexing puzzle, even though the source of his
stability is displayed without anj concealment. The horse
and his rider are really kept in stable equilibrium by means
of a weight at the end of a curved wii'e which passes from
the stomach of the horse downward and backward, so that
when the horse is set upon his hinil legs at the edge of any
support the weight is under the hoise's hind feet. In this
position the weight is practically as the bob of a pendulum ;
the only diflerence is that the weight is connected by a
curved wire and the wooden figure of a horse with the part
resting upon the place of suspension, whereas the bob of
a pendulum is usually at the end of a straight wire. When
we set the horse galloping, we set the weight underneath
swinging, preci-sely as we might set a pendulum swinging ;
and there is no more chance of the horse upsetting than
there is of a well-swung pendulum jumping off from its
place of support.

A number of experiments akin to the galloping dragoon
may be devised for exhibition without any special appai-atus.
Take for instance a heavy handled carving fork, a cork, a
strong needle, a flat-headed nail, and a piece of wood,
<lealing with them as shown in fig. 3. The nail is driven
into the piece of wood W, the fork F is driven into the
cork C, through which the needle n n' is thrust. The fork,

Fig. 3.

cork, and needle may then be safely set swinging on the
needle's point, which rests on the top of the nail, the piece
of wood being held horizonhilly as shown. The movement,
as the fork swings, is really that of a weight hanging from
a point of suspension, and is seen to be obviously stable as
soon as its true nature is considered. Yet it has a strange
effect to see the apparently unstable combination swaying
on a nail top, and on no better point of susjiension than the
end of a needle.

In the last experiment the nail and piece of wood are
not necessary. A fork taken from the dinner-table, and a
cork probably found " handy by " (for even in these days of
prohibition pei-sons who can trust themselves and their
company not to get intoxicated, oceisionally have such an
infernal machine as a bottle of champagne, port, sherry, or
burgundy opened at their table), will, with a strong pin or
other representative of the needle, serve the purpose of the
experimenter sufficientlv. The combination can be set
swinging with the pin point resting on the flat handle of a
spoon, or even, if the experimenter is handy, on an end of
one of the prongs of a silver fork.

Still simpler ways of showing the same illusti-ation of the
point maj' be suggested. Thus take a lead pencil, rather
bluntly pointed, and a parlour tire-poker, and tie the middle
of the pencil (say two inches from either end) to a part of

the poker two inches from the working end. Then bringing
together the large end of the pencil and the end of the
poker, set the point of the pencil on the edge of the table in
the manner illu.strated in rig. 4. Then P, where the poker
and pencil meet, can be depressed so as to set poker and
pencil swinging on the point ;/ of the pencil, with perfect
freedom from all chance of an upset. In this form the trick

Fig. 4.

is particularly effective because the string s.v', which re-
places the rigid attachment of the other cases, seems in-
sufiicient to make the connection between the suspended
body and the point of suspension jj' effective ; and the pencil
and poker ai-e known to be free from any attachment at V p.
Yet when the poker is set swinging it is easy to see that
the pressure at P/>' and the tension along the string .« .«'
make the connection between the weight suspended and the
point of suspension suflicient as against all the forces which
are in operation. The weight of the pencil and poker
together acts vertically downward through the centre of
gravity G, and since this is below the point P the equi-
librium is stable. G oscillates under P, precisely as the
bob of a pendulum swung from P would oscillate.

In these experiments we have simply a suspended body,
so shaped that when it is poised the centre of gravity is
hanging below the point of suspension. Thus every move-
ment given to the balanced body raises the centre of gravity
above its lowest portion, just as any movement given to the
bob of a pendulum raises it in greater or less degree. The
swinging motion illustrates the tendency of the centre of
gravity to seek the lowest position which it can attain.
This is the secret of all experiments in equilibrium. In
cases of stable equilibrium the centre of gi'avity tends to
rise under the action of external forces, and the force of
gravity brings it back, the body oscillating like a pendulum
around the position of rest ; in cases of unstable equilibrium
it will be found that the action of external forces tends to
depress the centre of gi'a\'ity, to which movement gravity
lends its aid, in such sort that the body moves farther and
farther away from the position in which it had been unstably
poised. The trick in the experiments above described con-
sists in so arranging matters that a position of stable
equilibrium is made to look like a position of instability.
(^To be continued.)

The well-known firm of W. Watson Sc Sods, of 313 High
Holbom, occupied a very important position at the late Crystal
Palace Photographic Exhibition, and their exhibits attracted con-
siderable attention from the trade and amateurs alike. They were
awarded two medals, one of them for cameras and fittings (with
special commendation for the introduction of interchangeable parts)
and the other for tripods and studio stands.

Messrs. Marios ct Co. were also very successful, and obtained a
medal for appliances for artilicial illumination, another for mounts.
a third for albums and cases, and a fourth medal for general
appliances and plant.

180

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[June 1, 1888.

THE DRAGON AND THE GREAT SHIP.

rriHE two pictures representing the ancient constellations of the Dragon (including the star.?
-L now belonging to Ursa Minor) and the great ship Argo (including the stai-s now
belonging to Canis Major, in part, Piscis Volans, &c.) will be found to illustrate my
remai-ks about the " Stars of Other Times" (in Knowledge for April, &e.).

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^A^LKDGE ♦

181

THE PLANET MARS.

MAP of this planet is preparinir, which will
appear next month. The work of com-
parison between the many hunJreds of
drawinjrs of the planet available for stuily
lias taken a longer time than anticipated.
But the map will be ready now very soon.
In the meantime I woidd call the atten-
tion of observers to the excellent opportunity they now have
for studying the featm-e which Schiaparelli attributes to
" double canals."

I have accepted as the best available explanation of the
observed a]jpearances, that the rivers on Mars observed
under different conditions account for all observed appear-
ances.

First. If, as is probably the case in the winter of either
hemisphere of Mais, there is much cloud over a ^Martian
continent, the rivers on that continent would not be dis-
cernible at all.

Secondly. If, as is probably the case, for some time before
each equinox the clouds clear away from a continent on
Mars but .still hang over the Martian rivers on that con-
tinent, they would cause the rivers to appear like silver
threads of exceeding fineness if Mars could be seen as he is.
But in a telescope even of great aperture the points of light
along the river would be seen as diffraction discs, each sur-
rounded by a ring of definite diameter ; and the combina-
tion of all the.se diffraction discs would form what would
look like a relatively bright streak bordered by two dark
streaks (corresponding to the daik spaces around each
diffraction disc). [The relatively bright streaks correspond-
ing to the bright rings would not be recognised as bright
streaks, being merged in the light backgi'ound of the Martian
continent.]

Thirdly. When the clouds were cleared away from a
Martian continent, and also from the rivers upon it, which
must often be the case during ISIartian summer, the rivers
would appear like dark streaks — of course much broader
than the livei-s reall}' are, because the image of a point along
one of these rivers is not point-like, even with the most
perfect telescope.

All that has hitherto been observed by Schiaparelli,
Perrotin, Thollou, and others corresponds with the theory
here advanced. (It was first advanced by me in the
Newcastle Weekly C/ironicle very soon after Schiaparelli
announced his startling discovery of the Martian double
canals.)

What is now wanted is a series of observations of Mars
near the autumn of the northern hemisphere (on which
most of the " double canals " have been seen). Mars will
pass the equinox (autumnal for his northern hemisphere) on
or about August 6, and will be well placed for this
particular research during June and July.

It will hardly be necessary to remind observers that they
should carefully try the effect of varying the aperture of
the telescope they may use. If the " double canals " are
phenomena of diffraction they would be best seen with a
certain aperture, such as would give to the dark ring round
the diffraction di^c of a star a diameter equal to from a
tenth to a twentieth of the diameter of Mars. If the space
between the " double canals " be found to correspond with
the span thus resulting for a given aperture, the diffraction
interpretation of these phenomena would be confirmed ; if
the space varied with varying aperture, and in accordance
with the known relations between the aperture of the object-
glass and the size of the diffraction disc, that interpretation
would be established.

THE NEW ASTRONOMY.*

ItOFESSOR L ANGLE Y (we hope we are
right about the title, but our author's title-
page mentit)us nothing which in England
wovdd be regarded as implying professorship)
gives as the rai'ioii d'etre for his book the
desire to reach those members of the com-
munity on whose support the endowment of
research chiefly depends. He has written, he says, not for
the professional reader (whatever that may mean — in
England professions are very various), "but with the hope
of reaching a part of that educated public on whose suppoit
he " (])resumably the " professional I'eader ") " is so often
dependent for the means of extending the boundaries of
knowledge." This vague purpose may be a sufficient reason
for the shortcomings of the book before us. Professor
Langley evidently has a very poor idea of " that part of the
educated public on whose support, etc." But whether this
be so or not, the mere idea of the endowment of research
has long since been made to " stink in the nostrils " of the
British public. Professor Langley himself has passed from
a fairly salaried position with splendid opportunities (of
which he has well availed himself) for independent research
to a position much better salaried, but without those oppor-
tunities. We propose, then, to examine his book with
strict reference to its worth, and without considering (what
in a different connection we would consider with enthusiasm)
his undoubted services as Director of the Alleghany Obser-
vatory to the caiise of <.)riginal research.

In the first place, we note that " the educateil public on
whose support " he depends would seem to be regarded by
him as better able to judge appearances than so mere a
trifle as intrinsic value. Or it may, perchance, be his pub-
lishers, Messrs. Ticknor ife Co., of Boston, who suppose that
the public will be content with the weight of paper and
binding supplied them, without considering the amount of
information conveyed, or of new thoughts suggested. Be
this as it may, Professor Langley's book is amazingly heavy
for the number of pages it contains, and better suited for the
desk than the hand — save of the athlete to whom the
raising of 5G lbs. at arm's length is a pleasing exercise. The
cover positively creaks as it is opened, so stoutly and
strongly (and, alas! so heavily) is it built. Sterne objected
to the application of rule and square by the critic to the
books he may have to consider ; but in the case of the book
before us, such points as weight and structure force them-
selves upon the I'eader's — or rather the holder's — attention.
We find that '' Professor " Langley's " New Astronomy "
weighs rather more than Sir John Herschel's "Outlines of
Astronomy " and Mr. G'lodd's " Story of Creation " together.
This is a serious matter. Without rushing at once to the
conclusion that we can in such cases adopt the idea conveyed
in the famous epitaph —

Lie heavy on him, Earth : for he
Laid many a heavy load on thee,

or insisting with the Greek philosopher of old that a big
book is a big evil, we may at least ask whether the import-
ance of the contents, in this case, corresponds with the
weight of the book. It may be temper resulting from
wrist-weariness, or it may not, but we are moved to say
that the number of pages in Professor Langley's book
is surprisingly small compared with the weight ; the quan-
titj' of matter surprisingly small compared with the number
of pages ; the amount of astronomical information amazingh'
small compared with the quantity of matter ; the proportion

" The New Astronomy.
Tlclcnor & Co.)

By Professor S. P. Langley. (Boston :

182

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

of original matter singularly small compared with the
number of statements ; and, lastly, the ratio of tlie true to
the new even more startlingly insignificant. The most
striking statements in the work are that the sun is much
hotter than any except Ericsson, Secchi, and ZiUlner have
imagined, and the moon under her midday sun much colder,
for neither of which statements is a particle of evidence
vouchsafed (probably because " that part of the educated
public on whose support, itc," is not supposed to be capable
of understanding anything so highflown as evidence). We
Aentui-e to maintain the superior probability of the accepted
doctrine on both points, though as Professor Langley pro-
fessedly eschews mathematics and expresses even contempt
for them, we cannot explain our reasons for preferring the law
of Dulong and Petit to that of Newton (where the excess
of temperature of the radiating body is considerable).

By the general piiblic in America, the style of writing
ado]ited by Professor Langley is, we understand, considered
pleasing and attractive. We take a passage at random to
illustrate American tastes (if we are rightly informed) in
such matters. INIr. Langley is talking about the November
falling star.s : —

" If the reader will admit so rough a simile, we may com-
pare a flight of these bodies to a thin swarm of swift-flying
birds — thin, but yet immensely long " (strange birds !), " so
as to be, in spite of the rapid motion, several years in pass-
ing a given point " (still, we must repeat, these are strange
birds l), "and whose line of flight is cut .across on the 1.3th
of November, when the earth passes through it " (that is,
through the line of flight of a flight of these bodies). " We
are only there " (where?) "on that day, and can only see
it" (what?) "then, but the swarm is years in all getting
by " (sic), " and so we may pass into successive portions of
it on the anniversary of the same day for years to come.
The stars appear to shoot from Leo only because that con-
stellation is in the line of their flight when we look up to
it" (but whether "it" is the constellation, or the line, or
the flight. Professor Langley does not say), "just as an
interminable train of parallel flying birds would appear to
come from some definite point on the horizon." (t'an we
confidently conclude that an interminable train of parallel
birds, whatever parallel birds may be, would necessarib/
appear to do anything in pai'ticular, unless something more
definite about their interminable trainery is indicated for
our guidance ?)

One of the strangest things in this treatise on " The New
Astx'onomy " is, that whereas the subject would seem too
large even for a work as capacious as Herschel's " Outlines
of Astronomy," in this work, which contains less than a
fourth as much letterpress as that noble treatise (though it
is priced at half as much again), the author seems constantly
concerned lest each single thing he has to tell " that educated
part of the pviblic on whose support, &c.," should not occupy
an adequate amount of space (not to mention his anxiety to
introduce matter wholly in-elevant). Here, for instance, is
the way in which he spins out the stale old story of Galileo's
anagram about Saturn (we can afibrd no larger type) : —

" When Galileo first tumedibls glass on Saturn, he saw, as he thought, that it con-
sisted of three spheres close together, the midiUe one being the largest. He was
rot quite sure of the fact, and was in a dilemma between his desire to wait longer
for further observation, and his fear that some other observer might announce the
discovery if he hesitated. To combine th&se incompatibilities " {^ic), " to amiouDce
it so as to secure the priority, and yet not announce it till he was ready, might
seem to present as gi-eat a difficulty as the discovery itself " {we are not joking :
every word of this is in the text ! ) ; " but Galileo solved thi", as we may remember,
by writing it in the sentence, ' Altissimum planetam, tergeminum observavi ' (' I
have observed the highest planet to be triple'), and throwing it, in the printer's
phrase, ' into pi,' or jumbling the letters which made the sentence into the
monstrous word —

8>L\JSMRMJLMEB0ETALEVMJPVNKSVGTTAVJRAS,

pnd publishing ItiL^, which contained his discovery, but under lock and key.* He
bad reason to congratulate himself on his prndence, iSic, Sic."

* Mr. Proctor in " Saturn and His System " had a whole volume
as large as " The New Astronomy ") to give to Saturn, yet we find

Even this, however, is far from being the worst example
of attenuative expansion in this ingeniously constructed
work. As to space-filling, we have full-page pictures of a
cracked glass globe, a shrivelled hand, a falling man, a
lightning flash, a scene from the Bes.semer works. Pro-
fessor Langley's camp at Alount Whitney, Vesuvius during
eruption, and other non-astronomical matters. Thiity-one
full-page pictures in the book are printed as plates (most of
them being quite unworthj' of any such distinction), yet
counted in the paging. But for this ingenious device
(which we have never seen in any book of the sort printed
out of America), Professor Langley's book, which seems to
contain 2.50 pages, would show but 188.

Professor Ijangley is an excellent observer in certain
departments of physics (despite his weakness — and worse —
in matters mathematical), and has done work which has
been highly and justly valued; but he has not treated his
public with resiiect, or the publishers of the " Century
Magazine " (for whom the essays gathered into this volume
were written) with fairness. There are five or six good (but
by no means new) pictures in his " New Astronomj'," and
about two pages of matter at once sound and originally
suggestive ; all the rest might have been presented in aliout
fifty pages, including cuts.

'The " New Astronomy " is strongly though not hand-
somely bound, and well printed on singularly stout and
glossy paper — but, on the whole, we feel sorry for " that
educated part of the public " (presumably the American
public is meant) " on whose support, &c. &c.," if the opinion
which Professor Langley and his Boston publishers appear
to have formed of their capacity is just. We believe, how-
ever, that the general public in America, as well as in
England, want the cream of science, and will not be content
with a sky-blue dilution ; and we are sure that no devices
of printing and binding will make Brother Jonathan regard
a little treatise as a large one, though it be " fixed " as a
large volume.

SHAKESPEARE AND DONNELLY.

AI'OLLO AND THE MUD-DAUBER.

R. DONNELLY has enabled even the dullest
to see what sort of value is to be attached
to his critical comments on Shakespeare's
work and personality. For at length he has
jjublished some of the products of his crypto-
gamic cyphering — products with which
neither Shakespeare nor Bacon, but Ignatius
Donnelly alone, has had anything to do.

With regard to the legitimate criticism in Mr. Donnelly's
book, we note only that it contains no new idea from begin-
ning to end. The argument based on parallel passages is too
puerile for comment, though we can believe that any one
knowing little of Elizjibethan literature may honestly believe
that the resemlilances are striking. The now notorious
cypher, like all such inventions, is one by which anything
whatever could be pro\ed. With four root numliers any
one of which may be taken, as many modifiers, the power of
counting words on any column of any page, from the top or
from the bottom, with or without bracketed words, with

that all the story told by Mr. Langley from "He was not quite
sure" to " under lock and key " (134 words, counting the anagram a.s
4) is conveyed in 53 words as follows : — " He announced the
supposed discovery to the world of science in the form of an
anagram produced by transposing the letters of the sentence :
• Altissimum,' &c., 'I have observed that the most distant planet is
triform,' adopting this fanciful plan to prevent other astronomers
from claiming the honour of the discovery."

Juke 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

183

hyphened words counted separately or as one, and other
variations which !Mr. Donnelly allows himself, he can, of
course, find everything he wants to find. We must take
what he finds as what he tells us that he wanted t<i find, as
what he himself has conceived. Even as our " Benvolio "
finds in what Shakespeare wrote evidence of what Shake-
speare thought, though dramatically presented, so (only with
greater certainty) what Mr. Donnelly has evolved out of his
more or less moi-al consciousness about Bacoa and Shake-
speare tells us what manner of man Igaatius Donnelly is,
and with what sort of a mind he has crawled over the
memories of England's greatest and best.

We will not follow him. Let any one read but one para-
graph of Mr. Donnelly's cypher reading — say that in which
he presents Bacon as painfully forcing into a noble play a
series of foul insults respecting the man whom (even accord-
ing to Jlr. Donnelly's nonsense) Bacon thought worthy to
be regarded as the author of the greatest dramatic works
ever known, and he will have read more than enough.
Since the time when Mrs. Stowe wrote that atrocious attack
on the memory of B^ron, nothing fouler has been cenceived
than Donnelly's picturing of Shakespeare as a decrepit
wretch (when little past thirt}'), eaten up with disease,
drunken, besotted, and imbecile.

We decline to consider farther this loathsome work,
" rank without ripeness, rotten without sun," the product of
a coaree and abject mind. There is a passage in Shake-
speare which rises to our thoughts as needing but the change
of a word or two to express more aptly than anything
knou-n to us the feeling with which we have read this
hateful production — a disgrace to America and to literature.
When lachimo has pictured Posthumus Leonatus as foully
iis Ignatius Donnelly has pictured Shakespeare, and has then
!xs plainly shown the cloven hoof, Imogen says to him what
every clean-minded Englishman should say to Donnelly : —

Away ! — I do comlemn mine ears, that have

So long attended thee. — If thou wert honoarable

Thou woiild'st have told this tale for virtue, not

For such an end thou seek'st, — as base as strange.

Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far

From thy report as thou from honour.

... It [England deems] it fit

A saucy stranger in [our land] to mart

As in a Roman stew, and to expound

His beastly mind to us — the has [a son]

She little cares for, and her chief glory

She not respects at all.

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

Harm, adjectively for "hurtful:" a Southern usage,
claimed by Bartlett for lleorgia.

Hatchet. To " bury the hatchet " is to make peace ;
derived from the Indian custom of solemnly burying a
tomahawk when peace is made.

Hauled Mealer. The Saturdat/ Review says (and the
.y. R. always knows i that this expression used for persons
carted to and from the fields for their- meals is an
Americanism, and one worth knowing. Striped pullers for
members of a London rowing club wearing striped jerseys
would be as reasonably included among C'ockneyisms.

Haze, To. The most characteristically American use of
this word is that which associates it with the ill-treatment
of freshmen by the higher classes. Collegians in America
seem to be about as foolish in such matters as lads at our
public schools. Certainlv our universities now offer nothing
which corresponds to " hazing ; " and though 'Varsity men
are fond enough, and too fond, of noise and fun, the pai--
ticular combination of brutality and cowardice known as

" hazing " in Americ;i is unknown in our colleges, and
regarded as disgraceful (though not quite unkno^vn) in the
army and navy.

Heft, for weight, though used in parts of England, is
oftener heard in the States, and may fairly be considered
an Americanism. The same may be said of " heft " used as
a verb, in the sense of " taking " the weight of anything.
Mr. Bartlett includes " heave," used for " throw," among
Americanisms, but there is hardly a part of England where
this usage is not familiar.

Hefty. Heavy.

Help. This word for " servant " is of English origin, but
it has undergone a singular change. Of old a " help " was
one who helped the servants, the term implying inferiority.
Xow the word "servant" is objected to as degrading, and
'• help " is used in its place. To the word " servant,"
regarded as derived from the Latin, there are objections akin
to those existing against the word " subject," seeing that the
so-called servant is no more a slave than the so-called
subject is in real subjection. The word " help," however, is
but an unsatisfactory substitute.

Herb. In England it is permissible to aspirate the " h "
in this word, though probably the word is oftener pro-
nounced 'erb. In America it is never aspirated.

Hickory. Owing to the toughness and hardness of
hickory (a species of Cari/a), the word is often used as
equivalent to tough, hard, or resolute. General Andrew
Jackson was called " (Jld Hickory " because of his firm and
resolute character. Yet the word sometimes means flexible —
hickory being capable of bending without breaking. A
" hickory bend " means a bend which only some substance
Hke hickory can take without breaking. It is used in
surgery of bones which, under a severe blow, have bent yet
not broken. Those who would wish to prove that the
Indians came from the East may find an argument for the
theory in the rather curious circumstance that the Greek
name for the species to which the hickory belongs —
■^ Kapva — is almost identical in sound with the Indian word
from which " hickory " was derived.

High falutix. High-flown, derived by Hotten from the
Dutch verlooten, but by Bartlett and others from " high
flighting," a word which needs accounting for as much as the
other.

Hired man-, or woman, or girl. One who is hired for
work : see " Servant."

Hitch. To hitch together, or hitch horses, is to get along
well together.

HoE oxe's Row, To. To do one's share of a job.

HoG-w ALLOWS. Places in the western prairies which look
as though hogs had wallowed in them and torn them up.
But hogs in reality have had nothing to do with them.
Cracks form in the prairies during the droughts of summer
(usually where the prau-ie is level), forming hexagonal
patches eight or ten feet in diameter. During the heavy
rains which follow the earth gets washed into the cracks,
and after several yeai-s peculiarities of contour arise which
present the appearance attributed — unjustly — to the wallow-
ing of hogs.

Home. The " old home," used for the old country, shows
that even to this day some Americans i-emember that
America was colonised by Englishmen, was rendered inde-
pendent through the courage and energy of Englishmen,
and is in point of fact of English production. If all
Englishmen and all Americans remembered this, we should
not so often hear either Englishmen or Americans speaking
ill of each other.

Hominy. Coarsely ground Indian corn, boiled.

HoMMUCK or Hummock. See " Hammock."

Honorable. This term is applied to members of the

184

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ^

[June 1, 1888.

Senate and of Congress, also to members of the State
Legislatures. It is retained afterwards for life. Bartlett
say.s the rule is " Once an honorable always an honorable ; "
but, according to the papers, the rule is not once an honour-
able always honourable, any more than in Great Britain
once a noble implies always noble, though an American
politician has a much better chance of being credited with
an lionourable chai'acter when he has retired from the
running. Men who, like Garfield, chance to die in office
even get qualities attributed to them which were not only
questioned during their lives, but which they certainly never
possessed. Anything more preposterous than the way in
which Americans abuse their " honorables " while they
hold office, and afterwards pretend to compare them with
Europeans not only lionourable but noble in their lives,
can hardly be conceived. Notoriety and fame seem regarded
as .synonymous.

Hoodlum. A Californian word for a rough blackguard,
akin to a " coinerman " in Liverpool. Rough, rowdy,
larrikin, hoodlum — it would be difficult to distinguish
between them otherwise than as the " rough " is English,
the rowdy American east of the Rockies, the hoodlum
American west of the Rockies, and the larrikin Australian.

Hook, To. To steal. Those acquainted with the literature
of English argot will be amused to find Mr. Bartlett classing
this word as an Americanism. In Hogarth's well-known
cockpit, the method of stealing, from which the use of the
word " hooking" for " stealing " had its origin, is illustrated
in practice.

HoosiER. A nickname for native of Indiana. The term
was originally used in a disparaging sense to indicate rough
frontier ways.

Hopping mad, for exceedingly angry, is a common expres-
sion among the more vulgar in America. It is not stated
by any competent authority that Americans in any part of
the States really indicate anger by hopping.

Horse-fiddle. Any instrument constructed coarsely and
roughly to be played after the manner of a fiddle, and pro-
ducing execrable and atrocious noises. In different States
different ideas of the best way of making a horse-fiddle
prevail. But any arrangement from which, by a process
akin to " bowing," a gruesome noise to be heard a long
distance can be effectively produced deserves the title.
In England this particular form of " horse-play " is no
longer in vogue. Some Americans conclude, therefore, that
we are behind the times. But we had our brutal noises in
]).ast ages {vide Hogarth's industrious apprentice — the
Charivari), and have got through that form of nonsense —
in which, strange to s.ay, even the roughest English folk have
long since ceased to find any fun.

Hose. The modest way of mentioning stockings among
the immodest in parts of America, and especially in some
of the western States. Some persons are so depraved in
their imaginations that to speak of the human legs, or of
stockings, or breeches, or other appurtenances of the under-
standing, suggests (so far as one can j iidge by their talk)
all sorts of gross ideas. It is among these, unfortunately
far more numerous than Americans of the more decent sort
imagine, that the false delicacy ridiculed by travellers in
America had its origin. It is a pity, because visitors in
America often have no idea what nastily minded folk they
may meet in society otheiwise perfectly respectable. Gffence
has been unwittingly given, again and again, where no
offence had been intended or even imagined. And, oddly
enough, the persons thus astoundingly " nasty " consider
themselves exceedingly " nice." They retain their sense of
offence for years after the innocent event which caused
offence has passed away, and talk of the offender, who in
the meantime remains perfectly innocent of his oflence, as

if he were a blackguardly fellow who did not know how to
address properly minded people.

Hoss for " horse," and especially as a slang title for a
person of great courage, resolution, and strength, may be
regarded as an Americanism, though it is sometimes heard
in parts of England. There is a ridiculous story about an
American actor who represented Richard III., in Shake-
speare's ]>lay of that name, which curiously illustrates the
u.se of this term. " He came down to the footlights," said
the enthusiastic narrator, describing the death scene — " he
came down to the footlights — yes, sir ! — and he wrapped the
star-spangled banner around him, and died like the son
of a hoss." Higher praise could no American give.

Hound. Although the word "hound" is in use in
America as in England for a term of reproach, as also is
" dog," you may use the word without offence in American
society : but to use the female name for the species, even in
talking about dogs and sport, is regarded by persons of the
kind described under " hose " as an offence of the first
magnitude.

Hounds. A name very appropriately given to a gang of
cowardly ruffians, akin to " white caps," " vigilants," and
other such villains, who banded themselves together under
the pretence of " regulating " immigration into C.alifornia
in the old days of 18-1:9. It may be hoped that most of
them were in the long run shot or hanged, as they deserved.

How? Pronounced Jiaoivl This interjection used for
ivhat 1 and intended as an abridgment of" how's that t " (for
" what did you say ? "), is very often heard in New England,
and not unfrequently (owing to intermixture) in other
States. It has a vulgar sound, more marked, I imagine, in
the ears of cultured Americans, who have learned to asso-
ciate it with inferior culture, than with us English folk, who
simply regard it as an amusing Americanism.

How d'ye i Pronounced " howdy " — Southern for " how
do you do 1 "

How's THAT FOR HIGH 1 Bartlett absurdly puts as the
equivalent for this quaint expression — "What is your
opinion as to the height of it 1 " He might as well have said
that it signified " How many inches, ascertained trigono-
metrically, does it span in a vertical direction 1 " The
expression is always used in a quaint and half-ironical
manner. For instance, a man will show a picture in
flaming colours, and with glaringly gi'otesque figures, and
ask " How's that for high 1 " Or he will ask the question after
reading some absurdly grandiloquent passage in a speech or
descrijition.

Hub. Boston is commonly known in America as " The
Hub" — shoi'tfor Hub of the Universe. (How's </(«? for high?)

Hull, for " whole," a pronunciation often heard in the
States.

Human, A = a human being.

Hunkey =: capital, ril'st-rate. A. " hunkey boy" would
correspond to our English " no end of a brick," and the
Irish " broth of a boy."

Hunky dori, or Hunkytjorum ; something superlatively
good.

Hurry up. To. Americans say "to hurry up" where
we say " to hurry." I remember the first time I heard the
expression it considerably startled me. In those days it
was customary for the railway conductors to go round
collecting tickets in the sleeping-cars at all sorts of unearthly
hours in the night. My ticket w\as asked for about -1 a.m.,
and I was feeling for it through my pockets, when the con-
ductor called out impatiently, " Hurry up 1 " " Why, I
thought we did not get into New York till seven 1 " I said,
stopping in my search for the ticket to attend to the more
serious business of getting up. " Oh, shucks I " was his
polite reply ; " hurry up with that ticket."

June 1, 18S8.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

185

Hush up. This expression is equivalent to our English
" Shut up," or to the American " Give us a rest."

Hyper, To. To hurry, or, as Americans sa)-, to "hurry up.'

Hypo, for " hvpochonclrui," is probably English, but I
have never heard the word except in America.

Hyst, for " hoist," is sometimes used in America to
describe a " fall," but (a distinction Bartlett fails to notice)
only a fall which is so violent as to be followed by some sort
of rebound. It is the rebound, not the f\ili itself, which is
the '■ hyst."

ORIGIN OF LIFE.

A NAVAJO TKADITIOX.

HE Navajo Indians of Arizona have a tra-
dition to the effect that while the earth
was young and destitute of animal life the
Great Spirit created twelve people — six
f'T^' r^?^ ^^^^ ^■^•^ s^^ ■N^omen — together with many
; jKiSwsS^ ; species of animals, and confined them in a
cavern of the San Francisco mountain,
where they lived as a great happy fixmily for many years.
But in coarse of time a restlessness possessed the prisoners.
Though they had known nothing of freedom, all felt the
oppression of their narrow limits, and vaguely yearned for a
greater fulfilment of the dream or reality of living. But
what could they do I All speculated on the situation to no
purpose. Daily they jostled each othei-, little and big,
clumsy and nimble, bipeds and quadrupeds, feathered and
furred, winged and wingless, timid and bold. Every suc-
cessive period of time was but a repetition of the past.

None of the many puzzled brains could offer means of
breaking the monotony, till a happy thought struck one of
the most insignificant of the living mass. For want of
other occupation a locust boi'ed a hole in the wall and
thereby opened the way for the enthusiasm^ and progress of
the host of its comrades throughout the lenirth and breadth
of their underground world. The Great Spirit had so
decreed it. They were there only for a time of incubation.
At the destined hour, as the eaglet bursts the shell that
imprisons it, so the locust's tiny burrow should lead to the
escape of all into the open world, where each could follon-
his inclinations unhampered.

The labouring locust had but a solitary witness. A
badger watched with growing amusement the diminutive
tunnel-making. His eyes sparkled with interest as the
locust laboured energetically. He lay resting with his
bead bstvveen his fore paws in a most lazy attitude, but his
face expressed animation and eagerness not much longer to
be retained. As the tail of the locust disappeared the time
for exertion had come. To follow the locust's movements
further necessitated like energy. The locust's hole was too
small for the badger's access, sa he started a tunnel-making
of his own. By the time he reached the locust he was in
no mood to give up the chase, so he passed on, scratching
his w.iy through the solid earth until he broke through the
outer crust of the mountain, and in the joy and excitement
of the moment he sprang into the ample space before him.
The mountain side was steep, and he " landed " in the
shallow edge of the lake in Montezuma valley. As he fell
liis fore feet struck deep into the mire, and his progeny
even unto to-day have inherited black fore paws because of
this incident of the world's first peopling.

The Navajoes within the cavern, noting the departure of
the badger, began a " prospect." Finding the hole large
enough for exit, they crept out, one after the other, and a
train of all sizes and sjiecies of animals followed in their
■wake, as from Noah's ark.

As soon as all the prisoners were free, fire and smoke
began to issue from the hole that had delivered them. This
frightened them far away into the valley, and there they
prepared to make themselves comfortable and live as their
new advantages permitted. Food was plentiful in vegetable
forms, but some varieties needed heat to make them good.
At least the Navajoes thought so, but they had no means of
kindling a fire. This difficulty was soon overcome b}' send-
ing a bat, a wolf, and a squirrel after the needed element,
fire. Going to a hnle in the mountain, the wolf tied some
pitchy splinters to his tail, then turned and held it over the
little volcano till it began to smoke and ignite. The bat
then fimned it into flames with its wings, and the squirrel
carried it away to the Navajoes. The people were delighted
of getting the one missing essential to a happy life in the
open world, and when, long after, a time came when the
world's plenty had pampered their wills and fostered their
greed and selfishness to the point of preying upon their
fellow-creatures for food, they still had the honour to vow
never to eat wolf or squirrel flesh. Neither would they move
camp without a live coal among their possessions. And
even to-day the Navajoes' gratitude to the trio is observed
as the promise made to the tire-getters of the tradition.

Between the Navajoes and different animals there sprang
up a dispute over the Great Spirit's intended use for night
and day. All agreed that one should be spent in sleep and
one in action, but which should serve the one and which the
other ? It was settled at last. Those that wished to roam
at night should do so and sleep by day, and vice versd. The
heroic badger was among those who chose the mysteries of
the darkness or the immediate dawn and dusk for thought
and action, and the bright and sunny hours as fit to be
slept away in his cool underground nest. As the sun sank
in the west upon their business meeting, the owl, bat, moth,
and many other animals scattered out into the valley
borders on their foraging exploits, while many kinds of
birds flew to roost in the trees. Other animals lay down to
sleep in sheltered parts of the forest, and the Navajoes
spread their waterproof blankets, the trophies of the
women's industry, and enjoyed their couches under the
starry sky in peaceful dreams. — Overland Jlont/di/-.

0 0 S!0ip»

Br EicsABD A. Proctor.

1 HOPE to visit England next September, for the winter of
1888-89. Any institutions, societies, ic, or individuals
who may wish for lectures from me should address me
(without great delay) at Corona Lodge, Orange Lake, Fla. ;
or communications may be addressed to Mr. John Flack,
care of the publishers of Knowledge.
* * *

A coheespondext mentions that in a certain game, in
which the chances were even, one player won nine times in
succession. He and his friends discussed the matter, and
one of them afterwards calculated that the odds were 511
to 1 against the observed event. He asks me if this is
right. It is, if the question is. What are the odds against
one named player winning nine successive games, counting
from the one first to be played 1 If, however, the question
be, What are the odds against one or the other player
winning the first nine games played ? then the odds are only
255 to 1. And if the question be. What are the odds
against the occurrence of a run of nine successive wins by
one or other player in the coui'se of an evening's plav 1 the
odds will be much le.ss — only determinable, however, if the
number of games to be played be mentioned.

186

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

The method of calculation is simple. If the first of the
above questions is raised, and A be the player whose chance
is to be considered, then the chance that he wins the first
game is -i, and the chance that he wins the second con-
sidered afone is a'so ^ ; but as ho only has ^ a chance of
entering on this second game as a winner of the first, Lis
chance of winning both games is only ^ of i, or ^. So his
chance of winning the third game is ^ ; but his clianoe of
winning it as already a winner of the first two is only 5 of
i), or \. Proceeding in this way, we find A's chance of
winning the first fours game J of ^, or j'^y ; of winning the
first five, -jV of h, or ^V; of winning the first six, ~|'j of ^,
or ^'4- ; first seven, ywj ; first eight, -^^ij^; and, finally, A's
chance of winning the first nine games is t|^, or the odds
are 511 to 1 against that event.

* * *

The second question only differs in asking the odds
against A or B (one of whom must win the first game)
winning the remaining eight. The chance, as already shown,
is j! ij ; the odds, therefore, are 255 to 1.

Tf a number of games are played, it is easy to see that
the chances against the event in question are not so heavy.
Suppose, for instance, fifty games are played. Then the
run of nine games has a chance of occurring with the first
nine, i.e. beginning with the first game, or with the second,
or third, and so on up to the forty-second game.

The particular case mentioned by my correspondent — the
occurrence, namely, of nine events of the same kind in
succession, where the chances are even at each trial — might
be suppo.sed to have occurred when O.-cford beat Cambridge
in the 'Varsity boat race from 18G1 to 18G9 inclusive. But
the probability is that there was a definite superiority in the
Oxford style in those days. And it is to be noticed that
when the chance is sm.all for an observed event, assuming
the conditions equal, the occurrence of the event leads to a
presumption that the conditions are not strictly equal, this
presumption increasing in weight as the preponderance of
events of one particular kind over events supposed originally
to be of equal likelihood grows greater.

* * *

The Sidereal Messemjer is not content with the progress
of events described in Knowledge for April last under
" Gossip," pp. 1.38, 139. I considered the editor of that use-
fully compiled little magazine had no right to drag from the
columns of the San Francisco Kxaminer (a paper well
known for a certain C'alifornian vulgarity) a controversy
which began with the unprovoked publication of rude, men-
dacious things said of me by Mr. Holden in an " interview."
If he did drag these improprieties into a magazine otherwise
respectable, though dull, he might at least have put in my
own reply to the stream of falsehoods which had trickled
from Mr. Ilolden's pen. instead of introducing that stream
undiluted by truth. He thus left me no choice but to write
a new reply. (I could not at the moment find the only
copy I had of the Examiner correspondence, and if I had I
should not — for reasons — have been very willing to trust
it out of my hands exce))t where I knew very certainly that
I should see it again.) !My brief reply to the Sidereal Mes-
senger did not explain, as my full reply to the Examiner
had done, that the w.ay in which I had saved Holden's
name from rejection had been simply by silence. The fact
is, as I said last April, it did not seem ahsoluteli/ necessary
to explain in one and the same letter that I i-egarded a per-
son as utterly unworthy of a certain distinction, and that I
had not actively supported his name for that distinction.

It did not seem to me possible that any man having a
modicum of sense combined with some idea of the ways of
men of honour would misunderstand so pre);osterously my
remark, that the name of one whom I had described as
unworthy would have been rejected with contempt had I
not spared him.

* * *

The fact is, I had been so careful in avoiding any men-
tion of the fellow's wrong-doing, from the day when I found
out that it was no mere penny-a-liner who had behaved so
badly, but one who mixed with such men as Newcomb,
Harkness, Hall, Eastman, and others whom I esteem, that
I hold myself entitled to some consideration on account of
this silence alone. Among those who read these lines
there will probably be some of my friends who were on the
Council of the Astronomical Society when the election in
question took place. They knew that I uttered no word,
ottered no suggestion, simply did nothing in regard to the
person in question. They knew me well enough to bo
assured that I am neither foolish enough nor false enough to
speak of active support, or to imply the support of actual
voting on the Council, when ninety-nine out of every bun.
dred who would hear of such statements would know that
at the time I had long .since withdrawn from all active
participation in the Royal Astronomical Society's business,
while most of the ninety-nine would consider little short of
shameful any active support of one of whom I think as I do
of this person.

Yet this Western editor of a miniature magazine of
science in remote Minnesota confidently pretends to suppose
that I would select his scarca known piges to add a ridicu-
lous and inefleetive untruth to the true and just thong-
strokes which I have felt it my duty to inflict on a wrong-
doer (after finding ten years of silence misunderstood and
unappreciated). He asks me to apologise for what I have
not said, and for what, had I said it, would have been no
injury at all, whether true or not; while he declines (or
pi'obably is unable) to see that what I have said implies an
estimate of his protiye's character which would render
injury impossible.

* * *

I iMACixE the editor of the Sidereal Messenger is unable
to forgive the circumstance that in an early volume of
Knowledge I had to comment on the poverty of original
matter in his little magazine (priced at tenpence !). But he
has done better with the magazine since ; though it is still
rather too much of a compilation, and much too small for its
price. He ought rather to be grateful than angry for sug-
gestions which doubtless had their share in cau.sing so notice-
able an improvement.

Mr. J. Fraser, author of a new and entirely inadmissible
theory about gravity, has remained dissatisfied with the
treatment he has I'eceived in these columns. It will bo
remembered that his pamphlet was noticed in Knowledge
for August last, p. 23G,and that in Knowledge for October,
p. 282, 1 had to explain in " Oossip," in response to his
appeal to myself personally, that the author of the notice
had certainly not, as he supposed, acted with wilful unfair-
ness, while I expressed my all but certainty that there was
not even any uncon-scious unfiiirness. On carefully reading
through the pamphlet, I found that, as I supposed, the
notice was perfectly just, Mr. Fraser's theory being abso-
lutely untenable. As I had promised to state in these
columns the result of my reading of the pamphlet, (/'I found
that Mr. Fraser had really made good his case, I supposed
that he would take my silence as signifying that I had failed

JuN-E 1, 1888.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

IS^

to find anything of the sort. It appears, however, that ilr.
Fraser thinks I must have been satisfied with his theory,
but am prevented from saying as much by some mistaken
notion about the way in which the editor of Ivxowledge
should back friends who had written in these columns, even
though he judged them to be wholly in error. So he writes
to a gentleman whom he supposes, quite erroneously, to
have been acting editor of Knowledge as well as author of
the notice of his pamphlet, in terms implying that he has
been most unfairly treated.

* * *

Xosv all this is in exceedingly bad taste — to put the
matter very mildly indeed. If my friend had been both
author of the notice and acting editor of Knowledge, it
would have lieen quite improper to address him personally
about a notice which he had written in discharge of duties
■which belonged to the position he occupied. (To appeal to
me, as Mr. Fraser had done earlier, was still worse ; but, as
I had heard the appeal, and had indicated my opinion, to
renew the charge of unfairness was doubly insulting —
insulting alike to me and to my friend.)

* * *

If paradoxists choose to send their lucubrations to

Knowledge, they must accept the opinions expressed
here about them a-s decisive so far as Knowledge is
concerned. They are free to go about denouncing Know-
ledge as incompetent or unjust. If they can make their
theories acceptable to the scientific world, their abuse of
Knowledge will very likely be accepted along with those
theories. But they have no right to send their abuse to us
as well as their paradoxical pamphlets, or to complain
because we have given the opinion they have shown them-
selves anxious to obtain.

* * *

I do not feel bound to repeat or explain my opinion or
the opinion of my friend who noticed !Mr. Fraser's pamphlet.
But as it seems he is not satisfied that I really think his
theory unsound, and as he evidently believes I have not
noticed the arguments by which he considers he has met
objections, I may as well tell him that 1 do and have. He
regards " heat ' as the cause of gravity, and cannot see that
what we know about the nature and rate of transmission of
heat is entirely inconsistent with what we know about the
nature and especially about the rate of transmission of
gravity. He makes a wild yet feeble attempt to show how
heat would act tln-owjh the planets and suns, coming out on
the other side ; and he supposes he has made it clear that
the influences (purely imaginarj-) which he attributes to
heat-waves would be proportional to the masses, not to the
surfaces of bodies producing them ; but the proof does not
merit serious disproof. He has an idea that the great
dLfficulty about gi-avity resides in the shortness of the time
occupied in traversing the distances between the heavenly
bodies, so he triumphantly points out that no time at all
would be required by his bombarding waves to reach the
bodies acted upon, since they are travelling about all the
time. The question is not one of time, however, but of
velocity. It takes no time for a person travelling along in
a rain storm to receive the rain which he encounters at the
moment of his arrival at any place ; yet his velocity combines
with the velocity of the falling rain to aiTect the apparent
direction in which the rain falls on him. What we knoio
about gravity is that the velocity of its transmission almost
infinitely exceeds the velocity with which the planets travel,
and is many times greater than the velocity of light and
heat.

The Geological History of Plants. By Sir J. W. Dawson.
(Kegan Paul, Trench, k Co.) — This is a valuable addition
to the International Scientific Series. An introductory
chapter is fitly occupied with the general facts of geological
chronology and the classification of plants, while the body
of the work supplies in convenient compass a summarj' of
the development of the successive floras, the typical vegeta-
tion of each period being admirably illustrated. AVe may
direct special attention to those portions of the seventh and
eighth chapters which, in treating of plant origin and
migrations, discuss the interesting question of the appear-
ance of specific types in Arctic latitudes, " the full sig-
nificance of which," Sir William Dawson remarks, " seems
only recently to have dawned on the minds of geologists."
Sir William might have added that the paramount import-
ance of the study of plants, as contrasted with that of
animals, in organic evolution, " seems only recently to have
dawned " on biologists.

A Course of Lectures on Electricity. By George Forbes,
M.A., F.R.S., <tc. (London : Longmans, Green, it Co.
1888.) — This admirable series of lectures is based upon the
notes of five which were delivered by lilr. Forbes before
the Society of Arts in 188G, while the si.Kth (on Dynamo-
Electric Machinery) is a reprint of a paper read at the
Electrical Exhibition at Philadelphia in 1884. As a trust-
worthy introduction to electrical science, as developed
experimentally by Faraday, and subsequently mathematically
by Clerk Maxwell, it would be hard to surpass. Plain and
popular in language, but throughout scientifically accurate,
the fairly well-educated reader who gains his first intro-
duction to electricity through its pages will find, after an
attentive perusal of them, that he has acquired a sound
knowledge, not only of the principles of the science, but also
of the manner in which it is practically applied in electric
lighting, the telegraph, the telephone, and in the arts gene-
rally. No sounder and better rudimentary treatise on the
subject of which it treats has, so far, appeared. Seventeen
well-executed woodcuts supply all that is needed in the shape
of illustration.

A Student's Manual of Psychology. By Friedeich
KiRCHNER. Adapted by E. B. Drought. (London: Swan
Sonnenschein, Lowrey, it Co. 1888.) — Wading painfully
through this volume, we are amazed that its author can
have contrived to render a subject so replete with interest
as psychology so horribly dull and wearisome. To read it
after perusing such works as Bain's '• The Senses and the
Intellect" and ''The Emotions and the Will," or Car-
penter's " Mental Physiolog}'," is like turning from an essay
by Elia to " Drelincourt on Death " or Hervey's " Medita-
tions among the Tombs." This is the more regrettable
as the author's obvious erudition is supplemented by that
thorough plodding painstaking so essentially characteristic
of the German scholar. A large part of the dissertation
" On the Nature of the Soul " seems to us the veriest
logomachy.

The Playgrouiul of Science. By Johnston Stephen.
(London : 'Truelove & Shirley.) — Every student of physics
knows how much more he learns from experiments actually
performed by himself than from any amount of mere read-
ing. Acting on this admitted principle, Mr. Stephen, in
the capital little shilling's worth before us, gives plain
directions for the performance of sixty-nine experiments,
illustrating the phenomena of sound, light, heat, electricity,
magnetism, pneumatics and hydraulics, statics and dynamics,
with descriptions of the mode of consti-ucting the extremel}'
simple apparatus needed for their demonstration. All of

188

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

them ingenious and some of tbem new, these cannot fail to
give any intelligent boj or youth sound ideas on the subject
of elementary physics, and for this purpose Mr. Stephen's
little book may be confidently recommended.

Volapiik, or Universal Language. By Alfred Kirch-
HOFF. (London; Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, &, Co.
18SS.) — Kei/ to the Volnpiik Grammar. (Same Author and
Publishers ) — Whether a universal language iii attainable,
or even desirable, may reasonably be a subject for discussion ;
but that " VolapUk " will ever become that language is in
the very highest degree improbable. Medievally, Latin
was the means of communication among scholars of all
nationalities, as to-day French is the language of diplomacy;
but if any form of world-speech is now to be adopted, by
far the simplest plan would be to select the existing lan-
guage spoken by the greatest number of civilised meu, and
adopt tliat as the common vehicle of thought among the
different nations of the earth. It needs no superhuman
acumen to determine what that language must, ex necessitate,
be. Hen- Kirchhofl^, however, in this matter assumes the
attitude of the militiaman, who, being reminded by his left-
hand man that he was out of step with the entire battalion,
retorted, " Change yourn, then ! " We gravely doubt
whether he will get many Englishmen to take the trouble
to master his grotesque and cacophonous new language, at a
time when their own mother-tongue is .so rapidly spreading
in every part of the habitable globe.

Discursive Essays on the Phenomena of the Heavens,
d-c, (tc, d-c. By Cosmopolites. (London : London Literary
Society.) — An evil fashion has sprung up of late years
among book compilers which deserves exposure. It pertains
mainly to the .school of cosmogonists, and gentry who come
forward with theories more or less new (and more rather
than less, idiotic) of the physical structure and dominant
forces of the universe. These people, unprepared by pre-
vious mathematical and physical training, begin by sedulously
cramming up the contents of a few books on popular science,
whose facts they empty wholesale into their pages ; and
then, upon this foundation, build their own preposterous
theories. If any one ventures to criticise their nonsense,
the stock answer is that their facts are irrefragable, as
though the granting of this postulate carried with it the
admission that their inferences must be also I Of (what we
may perhaps call, without offence,) this Kinnsian style of
argument (1), " Cosmopolites " is seemingly one of the latest
exponents. When we say that he sets forth as an
" axiom " that " every atom of matter in the solid, fluid,
or gaseous state throughout the entire universe, contains the
essence, or principle of heat, of which light is an emanation,
a quality, or manifestation " (page 47) ; that he treats cold as
an actual entity and not as the mere absence of heat; that
he regards certain aerolites as actually formed in our own
atmosphere — and so on, and so forth, we feel that we
should not be justified in further trespassing upon our
readers' time by any detailed criticism of these well-named
" Discursive " Essays.

Lockwood's Dictionary of Mechanical Engineering Tirms.
(London : Crosby Lockwood ife Co. 1888.) — This carefully
compiled volume forms a kind of pocket cyclopaedia of the
extensive .subject to which it is devoted, and will be found
useful alike to the artificer and to the amateur reader of
technical works on mechanical m.anipulation. No word
having connection with any bi'anoh of constructive engineer-
ing seems to be omitted ; and, while we find a short article
on the " Occlusion of Gases " on p. 23G, the author does not
omit to define with equal care, on p. 377, so familiar an
object in the workshop as a " Tommy " ; the meanings of
" Unit of Heat " and " Jim Crow," too, alike finding their

places in his pages. No more comprehensive work has been,
so far, issued.

The Gene.ns of Federation. By Maurice H. Hervey.
(Sydney : John Sands. 1887.) — Mr. Hervey has a magni-
ficent scheme for the federation of all colonies, state.=,
dominions, and dependencies which at present acknowledge
British rule ; but as it comprehends, inter alia, the division
of the United Kingdom into four autonomous states of
England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, we need not discuss
it here.

Internationales Archiv fUr ElJmographie. Band I.
Hefte I. and II. (London: Triibner cfc Co.) — The first two
parts of what promises to be a work of the highest value to
the ethnographer and anthropologist lie before us. Few
persons have any conception of the vast amount of unem-
ployed material in the shape of ethnographical collections
which reposes upon the shelves of so many museums, and it
is to render this available to the .scientific public that the
present series has been projected. Each part contains a
series of detached essays on the various branches of the sub-
ject to which the work is devoted ; the principal paper in
the first part being devoted to New Guinea, and the
corresponding one, in the second, to Liberia. Nothing
more beautiful than the coloured illustrations of weapons,
instruments, and implements h.as appeared for a very long
time.

The Asclepiad. By B. W. Richardson, M.D., F.R.S.
(London : Longmans, Green, & Co. 1888.) — Once again
■we welcome the quarterly number of Dr. Richardson's
excellent and valuable serial. As we have formerly had
occasion to remark, while primarily addressed to the medical
profession, it is almost impossible to find a part destitute of
matter of interest to the ordinary reader. To take the one
before us as an illustration : it contains an article on
embalming, and a biographical sketch of the famous Dr.
Mead, who introduced inoculation into this country, stood
by the death-bed of Queen Anne, and was physician to
George II. Assuredly this capital contribution to medical
literature exhibits no sign of decadence.

Cassell's Technical Educator. (London : Cassell k Co.) —
If we are to accept the loudly-uttered assurance that the
future commercial s.alvation of this country depends upon
the spread of technical education, then surely the Messrs.
Cassell deserve our gratitude for their efforts for its advance-
ment. Nothing more comprehensive than the work before
us has, so far, appeared. In fact, were we disposed to cavil,
we should be tempted to object that it is really too com-
prehensive, embracing, as it does, fortification 1 among the
extremely diverse subjects of which it treats.

Among the pile of educational books which crowd our
table may be mentioned Physiology, by J. M'Greqor-
Robertson, M.A., and Dynamics and Hydrostatics, by
R. H. PixKERTON, B.A., two of Blackie's excellent Science
Text-books. (London : Blackie & Son. 1888.) Both well
written and illustrated : the Physiology excellently and
profusely so. Physiography, by W. Mawer, F.G.S. (London :
John Marshall it Co. 1S8S ) ; Elementary Physiography, by
John Thornton, M.A. (London : Longmans, Green, A- Co.
1888), into which, and notably in the case of Mr. Thornton's
book, a great deal of information is packed. — Practical
Essay Writing, by A. W. Holmes-Forbes, M.A. (London :
Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, it Co. 1888), containing much
that must be useful to the imperfectly crammed competitor in
an " Exam."— -^ Pupil Teacher's Handbook of Arithmetic, hy
Rev. A. D. Capel (London : Joseph Hughes. 1888). Cheap
and sound. — French Course, by G. H.Williams, M.A. The
Art Student's Second Grade Practical Geometry, by John
LowEES, revised by George Brown Moffalt's Selected

June 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

189

Inspectors Arithmetic Questions, Standards III., IV., V.,
V[., and VJI. MoffatCs Geoijraplnj of the British
Empire. (London : Moffiitt ct Paige.) Of wliich INIr.
Williams's work seems to be designed on a common-sense
plin, and the others to fulfil the purpose for which they
were compiled. Also from the same publishers — Hoic to
Prepare Xotes of Lessons, by T. J. Livesey ; TJie Earth and
the Solar System ; Tlie Ocean ; llow to Tench Readinj, by
T.J. Livesey; English Grammar; and Time Drill. All
useful to teachers in elementary schools. — From Messrs. Relfe
Brothers we have First Principles of Modern History, by
T. S. Taylor ; How to Spell and Speak Eni/lish, by JI.A.
Cantab. ; and Bates made Easy, by J. H. Hawi.ey. — From
Messrs. Swan Sonnenscheiu, Lowi-ey, & Co., A First History
of the English People, by Amy Baker, the second volume
terminating with ihe reign of Elizabeth ; and from Mr.
David Nutt, Simon de Montfort and his Cause, by Eev.
W. H. HuTTO.v, M.A., each of the works .specified being a
more or le.'s successful attempt to render history digestible
to the youthful mind. — A Plea, for Training the Hand
(New York Industrial Education Association. 1888), which
might be lead with jirofit by those who are urgent to grossly
misuse Board Schools by teaching French, etc., in them ; as
pointing out a more excellent way of employing the spare
time of children who must subsequently live by their own
labour. — Moffatt's Deductions from Euclid. (London :
MofTatt & Paige.) Handy for testing the student's com-
prehension of the problems and theorems of the mighty
Alexandiine geometer. — Education, Scienc, Geology. By
H. P. Malet. (London: Farmer & Sons. 1888.) Un-
worthy of serious criticism ; and Education in Bavaria.
By Sir Philip Magnus. (New York. 1888.) A clever
attempt to persuade the British taxpayer further to endow
the South Kensington ring.

Among the literary odds and ends on our table are :
Physical Geography of 2Iotmtains and Rivers. By Thomas
Paige. (London : MofTatt & Paige.) Useful to the beginner. —
A National Canal Between the Four Fivers a Sational
Necessity. By Sa.muel Lloyd. A scheme for promo'.ing
English prosperity by uniting the Thames, the Severn, the
Mersey, and the Humber. — The Natural Law of Relation
between Rainfall and Vegetable Ufe and its Application to
Australia. By Franz A. Velschow, C.E. Which develops
the theory that de.serts have a " cushion " of air over them
which effectually buoys up rain-clouds, and prevents them
from ever discharging their contents. — And the Reports of
Excursions during the Summer of 1887 made by the London
Geological Field Class under the direction of Professor
H. G. Seeley. (London: Geo. Philip A Son. 1888.)
Short, thoroughly practical, and useful to the field geologist.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR JUNE.

By F.R.A.S.

|HE student may continue to watch the sun for the
small spots which appear at distant intervals.
Jlidnight, on June 20, is the date ot the summer
■solstice, and the 21st is the date of the " longest
clay." There is no real night this month in any
part of tireat Britain. Map vi. of "The Stars in
their Seasons," shows the face of the iii^ht sky.
Jlercury, as an evening star, is capitally placed for
the observer, and may be well seen without
instrumental means, after sunset, over the N.W. by W. part of
the horizon. Towards the end of the month he presents a prettv
little crescent of over 11" in diameter. On the 12th, wheii
at his greatest elongation east of the sun, he will be a little
more than 1° north of S Geminorum ("The Stars in thtir
Seasons,'' map ii.). Venus is a morning star, and is approach-
ing the sun. She is but poorly placed indeed for the observer.
Mars is approaching the west and should be looked for as

soon after sunset as he is visible. His angular diameter con-
tinues to diminish, and it lequires a pretty powerlul telescope to
detect much detail on his surface. He will be found in Virgo
(■'The Stars in their Seasons," map v.). Jupiter's position is im-
proving a little; but he still has considerable (though decreasing)
south declination. He should be observed when close to the
meridian. He is in Libra (" The Stars in their Seasons," map vi )
throughout the month. The phenomena of Jupiter's satellites
observable at convenient hours during June are as follow ; —
Satellite i. will be occulted on the 1st at lOh. 62 P.M. On the 2nd,
satellite i. will pass off Jupiter's disc at lOh. 12m. p.m. ; followed by
its shadow at lOh. 20m. p.m. On the 6th satellite ii. will dis-
appear in occuliation at lOh. ;)Cm. p.m.; as will satellite i. 37
minutes after midnight on the 8th. On the 9th, the transit of
satellite i. will begin at 9h. 4-lm. p.m. ; as will that of its shadow
at lOh. 11m. The satellite will leave Jupiter's opposite limb
at Uh. o6m. P.M., and the shadow 23 minutes after mid-
night. On the 10th satellite i. will reappear from eclipse at
yh. 40ra. 31s. P.M. On the 13th satellite ii. will be occulted at
12h. 53 P.M. The egress of this same satellite from the face of the
planetwillhappenonlhe 1 5th at 1 Oh. ISm. P.M., and it will be followed
by its shadow at llh. 29m. On the 10th the transit of satellite i.
will begin at llh. 30m,, as will that of its shadow at 12h. oin. P..M.
Satellite i. will reappear from eclipse at llh. 34ra. 5 Is. p.m. on the
17th, as will satellite iii. from occultation at lOh. 25m, P.M. on the
18th, only to suffer eclipse later at llh. 15m. 3Ss. On the 22nd the
transit of satellite ii. will begin at lOh. (im. P.M., and that of its
sh.adow at llh. 33m, The satellite will pass off Jupiter's face
35 minutes alter midnight. On the 24th satellite i, will be occulted
at lOh. 34m, P.M, On the 25th the egress of satellite i, from
Jupiter's limb will happen at 9h. 55m., and that of its shadow at
lOn, 42m. P.M. Finally, 4 minutes after midnight satellite iii. will
be occulted. Saturn has left us until the end of the year. Uranus
is rapidly approaching the west, and to be seen at all must be
looked for the moment it is dusk. He is situated between Spica and
7 Virginis ("The Stars in their Seasons," map. v,). The moon enters
her last quarter 534 minutes after noon on the 1st, is new at
4h. 34ra, P.M, on the 9th, enters her first quarter at 6h. 49-7m, on
the morning of the 17th, and is full at 9h. Tom, in the evening
of the 23rd, The sole occultation of a star visible during June
at a convenient hour is that of 50 Sagittarii on the 24th.
The star, w'hich is of the Cth magnitude, will disappear at the
bright limb of the moon at lOh. Gm. p,M, at an angle of 65°
from her vertex, and reappear at her dark limb at llh. 16m. P.M.
at an angle from her vertex of 250°. At noon to-day the
moon is in .^quariu.s, which constellation she quits for Pisces
at 9h. a.m. on the 2nd ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). In
her journey through Pisces she passes into Cetus at 3h, a.m. on the
3rd. At 1 P.M. on the 4th she emerges from Cetus ami re-enters
Pisces, which she quits for the second time for an outlier of Cetus
at lOh. A.M. on the 5th. AVhen she finally leaves this constellation
at 8h, a,m, on the 0th, it is to come out in Aries (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxii.). Her passage over Aries is completed by
7h. 30m, A.M, on the 7th, at which hour she crosses the boundary
into Taurus. She is journeying across Taurus until 7h. A.M.' on the
10th, and then reaches the most northerly part of the northern
prolongation of Orion. By 5 o'clock that same afternoon she has
crossed this and come out in Gemini (" The (Seasons Pictured," plate
xxiv,). Here she remains until 4h. p.m. on the 12th, when she
enters Cancer. She is travelling through Cancer until 6h. 30m.
A..M. on the 14th. She then passes into Leo, there she continues
until lOh. P.M. on the 16th, crossing the boundary at that hour
into Virgo ("The Seasons Pictured," plate XXV.). She is travelling
through that great constellation until 1 1 P.M. on the 19tb, when she
leaves it for Libra. As she journeys across Libra she arrives at 4h.
P.M. on the 21st. at the western edge of the narrow northern .spike
of Scorpio (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.). By 1 o'clock
next morning she has crossed this and come out in Ophiuclius.
Hence she passes into Sagittarius at Ih. P.M. on the 23rd. At 5h.
P.M, on the 25th she has traversed .'-Sagittarius, and is entering
Capricornus. She leaves Capricornus for Aquarius at 2h. P.M, on
the 27th (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.), and Aquarius in
turn for Pisces at 5h. P.M. on the 29th ("The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxii.). As at the beginning of the month, she arrives in the
confines ot Cetus at 10 A.M. on the 30; h, and is still in Cetus when
those notes terminate.

The name of Dollond (optician) has been associated with
St. Paul's Churchyard for the jiast 135 years, and until just lately
had no other place of business in London. It will be intercsling to
City men to know that Dollond & Co, have now opened a branch
establishment nearly opposite the City of London Club in Old
Broad Street, over which one of the partners of the firm presides.

190

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

(Bm €l)tii Column,

Bx " Mephisto."

THE following position occurred in the deciding game of the
match between Mr. Burn and the Kev. J. Owen for the
Kutherford Challenge Cup: —

A. BURN'.

BLACK.

White,
J. OWEN.
It was White's turn to play, and the game continued ; —
White. Black.

1. KtxKBP (a) 1. PxKt

2. B X P 2. Q to B2 (J)

3. B X P (ch) 3. K to Esq

4. Q to Bi i. Kt to R4 (n)

5. B to K5 (d) 5. B X B

G. P x B 6. Kt to Kt2 (f)

7. Q to B-t 7. R to Q2

8. B to Kt6 8. K to Ktsq (/)

9. Q to KR4 9. Q X P (?)

10. B X Kt (ch) 10. K to Bsq

11. BxR (dis. ch) H. Kx B

12. Q to K8 (ch) 12. K to K2

13. Q to BS (ch) 13. K to K3

14. R to R6(ch) 14. Resigns.

(a) Fine play I If Black refuses to take the Kt, White by
playing Kt to Rt evidently gets a strong attack with a pawn ahead.

(A) The alternative move is 2. Q to K2.

((■) If 4. Kt to Q2, then 5. B to Kt6. If 4. Kt to Ktsq,
5. B X B (ch), and 0. Q to Kt6 (ch), &c., 4. Kt to K.5 was probably
best.

{d) A good move, which forces the opening of the KB file for the
rook

(c) If 6. R X P. 7. Q to Kt4 ; Kt to Kt2. 8. B to Kt6 winning.

(/) To guard against the mate by 9. R to R8 (ch).

(r/) Black cannot save the game, and now tlie mate is forced in
six moves. The ending is a remarkable example of the way an
apparently sound and strong position may be shattered.

Position between the same players arising from an Evans
declined : —

A. BURN.
Black.

White,
J. OWEN.

The game terminated as follows :

13.

B to QR4

14.

Kt to K2

14.

Kt X P

15.

BxKt

15.

RxB

16.

Kt to Kt3

16.

R to Ksq

17.

P to KR3

17.

B to Q2

18.

Kt to Kt5

18.

RxB

11).

Q to R.5

JO.

R to Ksq

20.

Q X P (ch)

20.

K to Bsq

21.

Ktto R.-.

21.

QxKt

22

Pto KB4

22.

QtoE3

i

lesigns.

The following very interesting variation, which arises from the
Hampe-Algaier-Thorold Opening.is brought about in a natural way,
and its frequent occurrence in practical play being very probable,
the useful knowledge may be anplicd as the pleasurable occasion
arises : —

I.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

!).
10.
11.
12.
13.

White.
Pto K4
QKt to B3
P to B4
Kt to B3
P to KR4
Ktto KKt.5
KtxP
Pto Q4
Px P
BxP
B to B4
B to K5
Castles KR

Black.

1.

P t ) K4

2,

QKt to B3

3.

PxP

4.

P to KKt4

ri.

P to Kl .5

6.

r to Ki;3

7.

KxKt

8.

PtoQt

y.

QKt to K2

10.

KtxP

11.

P to B3

12.

Kt to B3

13.

B to K2

,1*

Black (thirteen pieces).

^ ^X -5^ ^,S^. '^'■'^ ^,g»i

Whftk (thirteen piece').

In this position White has the choice of two moves. The first
by which he can recover his piece, leads to the following play : —
14. BxKt; BxB. 15. Kt to K4 ; K to Kt2. 16. BxKt:
R to Bsq. 17. KtxB: R x Kt. 18. RxR; Q x R. 19. B to B4,
or Kt3, &c. But the other move is 14. Kt to K4, which brings
about very pretty play, and gains a winning advantage, i.e. —

14. Kt to 'K4 14. K to Ksq

If the King does not move, then of course BxQKt, followed by
Kt X Kt, with a winning attack.

15. BxQKt 15. KtxB

16. BxR 16. Kt to K6

17. Qto K2 17. KtxR

18. Kt to B6 (ch) 18. K to B2

19. RxKt 19. QxB

20. Kt to Qo (disc ch)

with a winning attack. The only remaining ftasible move for
Black is K to Kt3, and this brings about some very pretty play as
follows ; —

14. Kt to K4 14. K to Kt3

15. Q to Q3 15. Ktto Kt5

This is the only move to prevent an early mate by a discovered
check, but White can now win in the following pretty manner : —

16. Kt X Kt (disc ch) 16. Kt x Q

17. P to R5 (ch) 17. K to.Ki2

If K to Kt4, then White mates in three by Kt to K4 (cli).

18. Ktto KB (ch) 18. K to R2

19. R to B7 (ch) 19. K to Ktsq

20. QR to KBsq

and Black cannot avoid the mate in a few moves.

JrxE 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

151

(Bur WRWt Columiu

By " Five of Clubs."

DECISIVE PLAT.

HE following case, which occurred at play a few
evenings since, shows the advantage of prompt
decision at whist, and how considerations of wnist
strategy sometimes render it desirable to run dead
counter to accepted canons.

I was the dealer (Z), and turned up the heart
ace; in my hand I found two small trumps,
diamond ace, queen, ten, and two little ones;
spade king, queen, and a little one ; club ace
and a little one.

The score was— A-B, three ; Y-Z, two.

A led a trump, Y played a small one, B put on the knave. The
heart ace was the natural card to play under the circumstances.
Half a dozen rule-reasons could be cited. A, having led trumps,
wanted trumps returned, and, playing the ace, would stop that for
the moment. If trumps were returned, B would be leading through
Z's honour. Trump strength being with the enemy, it was desirable,
according to the usual rule, to show the enemy as little as possible
about the position of the remaining trumps. And so forth, and
so forth.

But I played a small trump, feeling — against all cut-and-dried
rules — that my doable tenace in diamonds, with re-ent-ring cards
in spades and clubs, made that play at least safe, while there was a
fair chance of scoring freely. Moreover, A having led trumps, it
was quite likely that A-B held between them two by honours, in
which case nothing but forward play could save us as the score
stood.

B returned trumps: I passed, .\ taking the trick, and third round
falling to my ace : my partner discarded a diamond. (I knew this
to be his shortest suit, because I could depend on his recognising
my play as emphatically indicating all-round strength ; so that the
cut-and-dried rule to discard from the longest suit in presence of
the enemy's trump lead would not influence him as against the
obvious requirements of strategy.) Two by honours were now
declared against us, and the chance of defeat seemed heavy. Yet
my play would probably save us a point, even if we were defeated.
I led my fourth best diamond — not, as rule would require, the ace ;
for on the line I was following everything depended on keeping
re-entering cards to the last. Y took the trick with the knave, and
returned a small one. As nine had fallen from A, I knew that his
king must fall this round to my ace ; otherwise I should have
been tempted to play the queen in order to make sure of the entire
command of the suit — for a king left in A's hand after my ace was
played would have stopped my long suit effectually. (This, how-
ever, would have been giving up all chance of game for the certainty
of saving only a point.) I next led the queen, which A of course
trumped. All the diamonds outside my hand fell to this round.
A led a small spade, and the trick fell to my queen— on B's ten.
My diamond ten drew A's last trump. A led another small spade.
My partner, who held the ace, nine, and two little ones, played a
small one, knowing the king must be with me. I made my long
diamond — the deuce — and my club ace, then led a spade, knowing
my partner must hold the ace and probably the nine. His major
tenace in A's suit being thus led up to, he made the remaining
tricks.

Thus \-B made only four tricks, though A held king, queen, ten,
nine, eight of trumps, knave and three small spades, king and queen
of clubs, and guarded king of diamonds ; while B held knave and
two small trumps, and knave, ten, nine of clubs. A-B did not make
a single trick in their plain suits, thoug'n holding two kings, two
queens, two knaves, two tens, and two nines— out of three.

Y-Z scored four and the game — which, as it chanced, decided a
rubber.

DOUBTFUL LEAD.

The able whist editor discusses the question of the right original
lead from — ace and two trumps (hearts); ace, queen, ten, and two
small clubs ; king and three small diamonds ; and spade queen.
[I quote from memory, having mislaid the cutting : but the hand
is right, though the suits may be wrong.] He considers that,
although the lead of the club ace would be usual and not to be
blamed, the lead of spade queen, as giving on the whole fuUest
information to partner, would be more effective. I cannot agree
with him. It seems to me the immediate declaration of weakness
in spades would be apt to have a most damaging effect. For my
own part — but I am rather a venturesome trump^le^der — I should

be apt, unless playing for the odd trick, to take out two rounds of
trumps. But I believe the best le.xd would be the penultimate
(original fourth best) club. Partner, on recognising that, though
holding ace to five, the original leader had not led it, would see
that he was holding it as a card of re-entry, and would lead trumps
if strong enough to back up the leader's manifest strategy : king
of diamonds and even queen of spides would be possible cards of
re-entry.

SCIENCE IN WHISr.— AN ANGRY LETTER.

Mr. Francis Bam writes me a very angry (I might almost
say an abusive) letter, asking if I imagine the readers of these
columns will not recognise the unfairness with which he has b^en
treated. He in effe^" asserts that I quoted his first letter in full
only because I expected to get an easy victory over him, and left
his last unquoted because I found I was getting the worst of the
discussion.

I have to apologise to the readers of these columns for quoting at
all — in a magazine called Knowledge — from a letter written on a
subject about which our correspondent professedly has at present
no knowledge. But it so chanced that the letter reached me just as
I was putting the finishing touches to an article on the science of
whist, and seemed so singularly apropos that I put it at the head of
my article, and by sundry touches made the article read like a
commentary on the text supplied me b}- Mr. Ram (Knowledge for
December 1887). I inserted (Knowledge for January 1888) Mr.
Ram's reply, which was, however, in fact no reply at all, as he
simply dwelt on the fact that chance plays a more important part
in whist than in chess, which every one knows — the real fact being,
however, that it is through the part chance plays in whist that the
game derives its most essentially scientitic characteristic.

The matter may be presented in abstract thus ; —

Mr. Ram, carefully showing that he knows nothing of science in
whist, denies its existence, and asserts that success comes as freely
to the bumble-puppist as to the man who fancies he is playing a
scientific game. I endeavour to make it clear to him and others
that (passing over his mistake in writing, too, without knowledge to
Knowledge) (1) there is science in whist ; (2) science tells, as
statistics show ; and (3) the scientific game is a game worth play-
ing, whereas the pure chance game of playing out winning cards
and leaving the adversary to make theirs is not worth the trouble
ot sitting down to. (Have I not played it .' And do I not know its
utter dreariness ? I have also in childhood's hours played " Beggar
my Neighbour,'' and I know not which game is the slowest.) Mr.
Ram reiterates his opinion that " play in whist is necessarily a mere
muddling along," and asks how often in chess bad play will
succeed against good play — comp.iring a subject of study with a
recreation.

Mr. Ram's failure to understand how the very chances in the
game of whist add to its scientific character would show, if the
fact had not been already clearly indicated, that he has not yet
entered the charmed and charming circle about the mysteries
within which he nevertheless insists on speculating.

Let me illustrate the matter by two examples— one telling of a
successful achievement of mine, in which chance played a part ;
the other of a bad mistake, for which I was deservedly punished : —

1. The first case is the game described above. Here I adopted in
the first round a course which would certainly never have suggested
itself to a bumble-puppist, and I was guided thereto solely by a
consideration of the chances. I held an honour myself, and an
honour had fallen on my right ; the leader had either led (in all
probability) from five trumps or from four trumps two honours. In
the latter case the enemy would certainly go out in honours unless
we could make three by cards, and would count a double unless we
could make the dd trick. In the former case the leader still held
four trumps out of the nine whose position remained unknown, and
it was therefore more likely than not that of these nine cards the
two honours were in the hands of the enemy. As I had myself
great strength in plain suits, it was rather more likely than not
that A's lead was rather from great trump strength than from
combined strength in trumps and plain suits. For this reason I
passed the first trick, thereby showing my partner (a keen player)
that he must play as knowing I held great strength in plain suits,
for nothing else would explain my holding back the ace, which was
the trump card. The rest of the play, as above described, depended
throughout on the line I had thus adoptei. (My partner would
have discarded a spade to the third round of trumps but for my
declaration of strength— and a single spade thrown from his hand
would have meant the loss of the game to us.)

2. The second case is one I am somewhat ashamed of ; but,
readers of these columns are entitled to the lesson it teaches. I
had got out all the trumps, including my own, and remained with

102

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1888.

king, queen, and a small heart, and a king-card in clubs. ([ had
already made my long spades, and we v/ere now playing out the fag
end of the hand ; hearts had not yet been led, though three hearts
had been played.) I knew perfectly well that the chances were in
favour of the correct lead — heart king, and that nothing in the late-
ness of the suit affected the propriety of the lead. We bad made
the odd trick already, and if my partner held the ace, we should
make all four tricks and go out ; but if the enemy held it, we might
make three tricks, two, or one out of the remaining four. Leading
king ensured two ; and though leading a small card gave a chance
of three, the chance of three was not equal to the certain' y of
two, which was thrown awa}' by leading the king. As we wanted
four tricks to save the game — for the enemy had shown two by
honours, and were at the score of three — making three more tricks
which would have brought our score to " four," and made the game
a " single " to the enemy, was not worth more than making
two. Despite all this, which should have been obvious, I played
the small heart, for the chance of making three of the remaining
tricks. Ace lay on my left, however, and the trick fell to heart ten
on my right. Clab was led, and my king-card made. I had then
to lead heart king, which fell to tlie ace. and the deuce of clubs
being led took the last trick. The enemy scored a " double '' and
the rub.

Of course this was sheer bad play on the part of one who knew
the right course. It was due to irattention to the score first, and
secondly to misjndgment of the cliances. But the bumble puppist,
placed in my position, would play the small heart every time. The
only diiTerence would be that he would play the king card in clubs
first, thereby making the chances wor^t, for want of a re-entering
card to bring in the king and queen, which he had been nursing
so carefully.

" That scientific whist-players are at issue on some minor points
(the more serious differences in regard to the signals have no
relation to the science of the game, only to its qualities as a
recreation) proves only that some of the problems involved in Ihe
game are very difficult. Considering that the possible hands are to be
numbered by hundreds of thousands, it is not to be wondered at that
in some cases there is great difficulty in deciding what is the proper
course. Let any one consider, for instance, all that is involved in
the jiroblem whether second player holding king and two others
should put the king or queen led. Not only are theie all the chances
to be considered in regard to the making of tricks in the first t%vo
rounds of the suit, but the question whether it is more important
to make sure of as much on these rounds as can be made, or to hold
the command till the third round, and so prevent leader from
making iong cards in the suit. This again depends on a number of
considerations — as on the possession of command in other suits, on
the probabilities as to partner having such command, &c. &c.
For my own part, considering this particular point only, I wonder
less that there should be difference of opinion than that any player
who knows the game should undertake to lay down a definite rule
at all, where the primary chances are so equally balanced that very
slight differences in the circumstances may make one course the
better or the other.

MATHEWS ON WHLST.

The Finesse. ,•'

In playing for the odd trick few finesses are justifiable. This is a
nice part of the game, and experience, with attention, will alone
teach it with effect.

Finessing in general is only meant against one card. There are,
however, situations when much deeper finessing is required ; but
theory alone can never enable the beginner to learn these. As aa
illustration, suppose it is necessary j'ou should make two out of the
last three cards in a suit not yet played, and you hold ace, ten, and
a small one ; if your partner leads the nine, how should you play .'
The proper course is to pass it, even though in so doing you are
finessing against three cards, for if your partner has an honour in
the suit you make two tricks, and if not you cannot make two
tricks by any mode of play whatever.

As the following, or nearly similar, situations frequently occur, I
recommend them to the attentive study of thosj players who,
feeling within themselves that they comprehend what may be called
the alphabet of whist, desire to procure a gradual insight into the
game, all the combinations of which, I cannot too often repeat,
proceed from very plain and simple principles. It requires some
reflection, however, to recognise the truth of the same maxim, when
applied to inferior cards, which appears self-evident in the case of
higher cards. Thus there is scarcely a player who, if he has the
ace, king, knave of a suit of which his right-hand adversary has
turned up the queen, but will lead the kins and wait for the return
of the suit to win with his knave. [JIathews says to finesse his

knave, but there is no finesse.] But with ace, queen, and ten— the
knave being turned up on his right hand — the same player will
often fail to see that his lead, if he plays a trump, is the queen, and
that one and the same principle actuates the play in both cases:
and so through the suit.

Should your left-hand adversary lead the king from ace, king,
knave, to have the finesse of the knave, and it comes to your lead,
it is evident the finesse will succeed, if you remain with the queen
and one more. In this case play the small one through him, as this
frequently prevents him from making the finesse, though he
originally played for it.

If left with the last trumps and some winning cards, with one
losing one, play the losing card first, as your adversary on the left;
may finesse ; and if the second best is in your partner's hand it may
make the trick — which cannot be made if you leave the trick to
the last.

Finesses are generally right iu tramps, or in a plain suit if you
are strong in trumps ; otherwise you should be cautious in
finessing.

Note. — In our next we shall complete our rearrangement of
" Mathews on Whist." There remain at present but a few para-
graphs on playing to the score, some c:irisiderations relating to end
play (a few examples), and some paragraphs relating to " the call,"
and other points belonging to long whist. I must confess that in
going through Mathews (which has been a rather laborious task,
owing to the entire absence of order in his work, and his confused
style of writing) I have been strongly impressed with the close
correspondence between good whist in his day and good whist in
our time. There have been considerable changes in matters con-
ventional, but the changes iu regard to strategy have been very
slight indeed. Some of the suggested changes seem to me far from
being improvements, especially the discard from the best suit in
presence of the enemy's trump lead, instead of the old rule to dis-
card in that case where you can spare a card best or with least risk —
that is, generally, from a well-protected suit (though where you
have perfecth' useless cards in a suit, one of those should be thrown
away rather than diminish j'our protection, even iu a well-protected
suit).*

Destruction wrought by Insects in America. — The annual
loss to productive industries in the Ucited States caused by insects
is estimated at 150,000,000 dollars. Here is a fair battle between
man and another sort of earth occupiers. They are smaller, but if
they can whip us have undoubtedly as good a right to the world
as we have. As civilisation advances new insects make their
appearance, marching sometimes eastward, but generally westward.
Tnere are few, if any, forms of vegetation that have no parasites
that devour either foliage or fruit. The loss to the cotton crop is
estimated at 15,000,000 dollars a year, while that to the apple crop
is not much less, and that to the potato crop at least one-half as
much. But the estimate is not a fair one until into Ihe loss is
counted the time spent in fighting to secure the proportion that is
saved.

Contents

PAGE

The Star Story of the Flood 145

Hunting Alligator? 148

Canals or Rivers on Mara ? 149

Weiihingthe Earth 151

Electric Lamps for Coal Mines. By

Wui. Laut Carpenter l.'iS

Disease Germs - . 154

Fairies, Elves, and Dwarfs. By SDell i

Occidens (ilary Proctor) 156

Nevada's Waltzing Giants 1 5S

OF No. 31.

FAOB

The .Stars of other Times 158

A New Lottery Swindle 159

j The Religion of the Ancient Britons 160

1 Reviews 163

Our Whist Column. By "Five of

Clubs" 166

I Our Chess Column. By " Me-

I pliisto" 167

, The Face of the Sky tor May.

ByF.RA.S 1G9

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge '* as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annnm are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s, d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, jio 10 6

To Sonth Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &C. 14 0

To any address in the United Kin?doin, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Bgypt, the Sarscription ia 78. 6d.. aa heretofore.

* The idea of the modern conventionalist is, of course, to have a
means of showing partner the best suit (in this case) by the dis-
card ; it does not at all trouble him that (1) you may be quite as
likely to want to show him that you have no suit worth leading to ;
ami (2) when the enemy show strength the time is better suited for
lying low than for showing your partner what j'ou hold. The lead
is more than twice as likely to come from the enemy as from him.

July 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOAATLEDGE ♦

193

% ILLUSTBATED^MAGAZINE ^

liClENCE,tiTEKATUIlE,& ART,

LONDON : JULY 2, 1888.

MAN'S RELIGION THE EXPRESSION OF
HIS KNOWLEDGE.

nOME time since a series of papers appeared in
Knowledge under the title " The Unknow-
able," in which we attempted to sliow how
that borderland be\"ond the known (or what
i> supposed to be known) in which lie all
the vague possibilities man is ever ready to
l)icture where ignorance or imiierfect know-
ledge permits, is the true domain of religions aspirations in
so far as they belong to emotional faich. We now propose
to supplement those papers by a series showing in what
bcnse. religion is the outcome of knowledge, and how the
religion of every nation and of every .age has ever been the
expression of the knowledge (such as it has been) of each
nation and each age. We shall, in fact, strive to do for
religion from one special point of view what Professor
Drummond has striven to do for it from another. He has
endeavoured to show that in the spiritual world there aie
natural laws akin to those which the student of science has
learned to recognise in the world of m.atter. We shall
endeavour to show that the men of every age and nation
have striven to embody in their religion sr.ch natural laws
.as they knew or supposed they knew. In other words, we
shall strive to show the eminently reasonable character of
all religious .S3'stenis, nay, of each specific religious dogma —
granted onlj' that men had lightly apprehended the signifi-
cance of the facts of n.ature as seen by them and as they
understood them. Wo may thus learn bow it has come to
pass that certain doctrines have been almost universally
accepted ; others limited to special races or to special times.
We shall learn to distinguish what is probabl}' well founded
from what is probably unsound in the religions of the
human race — not by considering religious doctrines in them-
selves, but by striving to understand on what ideas about
natural facts or natural Laws they were originally based.
And in this way the true bearing of science on religion will
bo recognised. For few fcientific teachings have any direct
bearing on religious doctrines ns actually developed, even
when they may have the most decided and decisive bearing
on the ideas out of which the development of that doctrine
sprang. As the discoveries of astronomy h.ave no direct
bearing on the doctrines of astrology, while fully inter-
preting most of the facts on which those doctrines were
originally based, so is it with the teachings of modern
science in relation to nearly .all the doctrines of every
religion the world has known. Science can seldom prove or
disprove any dogma of religion, but science can in a number
of instances s.ay confidently that this or that fact on which
such and such dogmas were primarily based must be intei'-
]n'eted thus or thus — as it was interpreted by tho.se who
first found in it the germ of some special religious teachintr,
or (it may be) rjuitc otherwise.

In such an inquiry science is working, without doubt,
within its proper iield. For it is the special aim and pur-
pose of science to interpret facts if it can, and to classify
them (for future interpretation, perhaps) where it cannot.
The student of religion will also heio be engaged on an
infjuiry which leally bears upon religion : for he cannot but
be interested in consideiing the origin of specific religious
doctrines; and where ob.served facts or supposed facts and
natural laws more or less clearly discerned have led (.as they
alw.ays have led, first or last) to religious views, it cannot
but interest him to inquire how far the observations were
real or illusory, and in what degree laws really hold which
men have supposed they had determined. The inquiry will
extend to each one of those dogmas of religion to which
Professor Drummond has striven to extend the idea of
natur.al Law, but other matters (outside his sul ject) will be
considered also in our discussion of religious views as the
expression of men's knowledge, real or supposed, of nature
and her workins;s.

THE RELIGION OF THE ANCIENT

BRITONS.*

II.

T is among the non- Aryan. prc-C'eltic dwellers in
Britain that Druidlsra flourished, and became
in large measure mingkHl with Celtic poly-
theism, so that the elements of each are not
easy of separation. C.o^sar says of it that it
" is thought to have been invented in Britain,
and to have been carried over to Gaul ; and
at the present time those who wish to gain a more
precise knowledge of the system travel to that country
for the purpose of studying it."t The straightforward
and interesting account which he gives of G.allic Dniid-
ism, of the functions of the priesthood and character
of the ceremonies, is therefore to be applied, with local
modifications, to Britain. But wo must guard against
giving high-sounding names and titles, and crediting philo-
sophic qualities, to a religion so barbaric in its origin and
essence as that of the earlier rtices of the.se islands, judging
from analogy and from the dcscriiitlon of Tacitus and other
writers, must have been. A good deal of speculation has
been expended on the deriv.ation of the name Druid, the
Irish word for which is dmoi, meaning a magician or sooth-
sayer; but Profes.sor Rhys, after weighing the matter, and
citing evidence concerning tree-worship, inclines to the
old etymology drus, "oak," as the true one. Not only
was that tree, as the emblem of Jupiter, .sacred among
the Romans, who also called the acorns "juglans," i.e.
" Jovis glans," the fruit of the god ; among the Greeks,
in whose literature and legends there is frequent reference
to the oak as sacred to Zeus, who, as the source of divina-
tion, spake through the rustling leaves of the ssicred oaks at
Dodona ; among the Scandinavians, as the tree of Thor ;
and among the Teutons, as shown in the many vestiges of
holy o<aks ; but also among the non-Aryan Finns, as sacred
to Jumala, their .supreme god.

Stripped of the philosophic garb in which contact with
more civilised liices, or with which the imagination of
classic writers endowed them, and as yet unmodified by the
milder influence of Aryan polytheism, the Druids were
doubtless the magicians, soothsayers, and priests — "the
swarm of prophesying quacks" as Pliny calls them, corre-

* " Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion, as illustrated
by Celtic Heathendom." By John Rhys, Professor of Celtic in the
University of Oxford. (Williams & Norgate: 1888.)
t " De Bell. Gall." vi. c. 12.

194

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[July 2, 1888.

sponding in their assumptions and pretensions to the
medicine-men of all barbarous peoples. Shamans, con-
jurors, sorcerei-s, wizards, spiritual ancestors of all those
who claim to hold the keys of the kingdom of heaven, to
brine down gifts for men, to bind or to loose, to absolve or
to curee, such men naturally rose to power among, and to
rule over, their fellows, whose terrified and undisciplined
imagination saw in them the ministers and agents of the
gods. " They tamed the people as wild beasts are tamed,"
and among the convenient weapo7is which thej- used in
common with wizards the world over, were fetichism,
magic, and divination in many forms, notably by the entrails
of sacrificed victims and the flight of birds. The old account of
their ceremonies in groves, of their cutting with golden sickle
the mistletoe when, growing from the sacred oak, it denoted
the presence of the god, and of their bearing it on waggons
driiwn by two snow-white bulls, point to a form of nature-
worship which had been assimilated and refined by Celtic
polytheism. But we know Druidism only as thus amal-
gamated, and we need to resolve it into more primitive and
grosser elements. One of these is, without doubt, that
ghastly rite of human sacrifice which does not, as has been
suggested, indicate Semitic influences, but which has its
origin in the primitive object and intent of offering to the
gods that which, being most valued by man, must be most
acceptable to them. If any person of importance were in
peril from disease or from the chance of war, a criminal or
slave was killed, or promised as a substitute. The Druids
held that by no other means could a man's life be redeemed
or the wrath of the gods ajipeased ; and they went so far as
to teach that the crops would be fertile in proportion to the
richness of the harvest of death. It became a national
institution to offer a ghastly hecatomb at particular seasons
of the year. In some places the victims were crucified, or
shot to death with arrows ; elsewhere they would be stufl^ed
into huge figures of wickerwoi'k, or a heap of hay would be
laid out in the human shape, where men, cattle, and wild
beasts were burned in a general holocaust. The memory of
the public sacrifices seems to have been preserved by the
Irish proverb, in which a person in great danger was said to
be " between two Beltain fires." In the Highlands, even in
modern times, there were May-day bonfires at which the
spirits were implored to make the year productive, a feast
was set out upon the grass, and lots were drawn for the
semblance of a human sacrifice, and whoever drew the
" black piece " of a cake dressed on the fire, was made to
leap three times through the flame. In many parts of
France the sheriffs or the mayor of a town burned baskets
filled with wolves, foxes, and cats in the bonfires at the
Feast of St. John ; and it is said that the Basques burn
vipers in wicker panniers at midsummer, and that Breton
villagers will sacrifice a snake when they burn the sacred
boat to the goddess who has assumed the title of St. Anne.

The Welsh and Irish traditions contain many other traces
of the custom of human sacrifice. Some of the penalties of
the ancient laws seem to have originated in an age when
the criminal was offered to the gods. The thief and the
seducer of women were burned on a pile of logs or cast into
a fiery furnace ; the maiden who forgot her duty was
burned, or drowned, or sent adrift to sea. The lives of
the saints and the household foiry tales are full of the
miracles by which the innocent queen or princess is saved
from an unjust doom.

All these are of the past, yet now and again reminders
come to us what strange beliefs are yet nurtured among us,
what fetichistic customs still linger, what unlaid ghosts still
haunt the barrows, what fairy-darts and elf-bolts are still
thrown, wh.at merry dances the little people still have in
their fairy rings, what helpful or spiteful things they do,

in districts where the thud of the navvy's pickaxe has not
disturbed their trysting time, nor the screech of the railway
whistle driven them to their imdergrouud homes, where,
according to Danish legend, their ancestors, the unwashed
children of Eve, were cast by Jesus.

The older and grosser elements, never eliminated from
Christianity, easily coalesced with those in the pagan
rehgiona, which it nowhere thoroughh- supplanted. It
had attained a richer spiritual development than they,
but its roots lie in the same soil, fed by the same needs.
The penalties pronounced in its authoritative writings
against witches ; the vast organised doctrine of demonology
which was, and is, an integral part of the teaching of its
founder, and therefore of his disciples ; the superstitions
attached and attaching to the water of baptism, and which
led the ignorant rustic to steal it from the fonts for use in
magical rites (accounting for locked covers on fonts) ; these
and other elements, of the earth earthy, it shared with other
religions, and if it bestowed upon them new names, the
essence remained unchanged.

The dressing of wells at Tissington and other places ; the
wells in the northern counties into which the country girls
throw pence as offerings to the spirits ; the rags and other
votive offerings on trees and hedges around sacred wells in
Britain and Ireland ; the pilgrimages to St. Gowen's well in
Pembrokeshire ; are among the undoubted relics of that
water-worship which is one of the many departments of the
nature- worship of our forefathers, and which is linked with
the offerings round sacred wells in India and Ceylon, and
with the more graceful Fontinalia of the Romans, when
the fountains and wells were garlanded in. honour of their
nymphs.

One might think that there remained no relic of sacrificial
customs which, as we have .seen, were so hideous a feature
of the old British religion, as of all others at a correspond-
ingly low level ; and yet it is recorded that not twenty-five
years ago, when a herd of cattle was attacked with murrain,
one of them was buried alive as a propitiatory offering for
the rest, and that a live ox was burned in Northumberland
with the same intent ; whilst a remedy for erysipelas applied
within recent years was to cut off part of a cat's ear and let
the blood drop on the part affected. So in the Highlands
and Cornwall, a black cock is buried alive on the spot where
a person is first attacked by epilepsy.

Scratch a Russian, says the adage, and you will find a
Tatar ; scratch a peasant, and, for the matter of that, a good
many of his betters, and you'll find a fetichist — a pagan to
the core. What will the old crones tell us to this day 1
Th.at the sickly child will not thrive till it is christened ;
that the souls of the unbaptised babes wander in the
air till Doomsday, or join the mystic team of the
Wild Huntsman, be he Arthur or Odin ; that the first
parings of the infant's nails, which must never be
cut on a Friday, should be buried under an ash-tree, in
which superstition we see mixed the s,avage notion of bury-
ing nail-parings and other refuse lest the sorcerer work harm
thereby, and the important part assigned to the ash in
Norse, American, Greek, and other myths ; that the mourner
on whom the sun shines at a funeral is sure to die ; that
when birds tap against the window, or ravens croak, or the
dogs howl before the house, or the click of the death-watch
spider is heard, or, queerest of all, when one's own wraith is
met, or a corpse doesn't stiffen, 'tis an omen of death.

Furthermore, that the faithless lover's heart maybe tortured
by sticking pins into a h.are's heart ; that 'tis unlucky to
look at the new moon through glass ; that 'tis -nicked to
point at the stars or count them — itself a relic of the Aryan
ancestor-worship, and of the personifying of the " Fathers " who
live in the sky along with Yama, and who are the great original

July

1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

195

Fitri of mankind ; that one should always invoke a blessing
on a sneeze, itself a relic of the well-nigh universal barbaric
belief that the sneeze indicates the expulsion of a demon,
whose return the invocation prevents ; that whooping-cough
can be cured by passing the suflerer under a donkey's bell_y,
or by popping a trout's head in its mouth, or putting a hair
of the patient's Lead between two slices of bread-and-butter
and giving it to a dog ; that toothache can be cured by a
chaim written in a liible, as in Africa the sick native drinks
the water in which a board with written characters on it
has been washed ; that rheumatism can be cured by con-
firmation, or cramp prevented by placing one's shoes toe to
heel ; that the hair of a dog will cure a dog's bite, a very
widespread superstition, from China to Iceland, for the
Edda commends it ; that the pining away of a child is due
to the evil eye ; that the idiot child is a fairy's changeling,
of the existence of which Dr. Martin Luther was as firmly
convinced as was John Wesley of the existence of witches.
"Eight years ago," said the famous doctor, "there was a
changeling in Dessau, which I, Dr. IMartin Luther, have
both seen and touched . . . and which I would have had
thrown into tlie water at the ri.sk of being a homicide. But
the Elector of Saxony wouldn't follow my advice. I then
said they ought to cau.se a paternoster to be said in the
church, that God would take the devil away from them.
This was done daily, and the said changeling died two years
after."

Such superstitions as are illustrated by the foregoing
examples, which could be multiplied indefinitely, are expli-
cable only on the ground that they are survivals of a barbaric
past, which have remained persistent throughout the lower
culture in these islands from prehistoric times. They have,
with differences of detail incident to local characteristics,
their parallels in all barbaric thought, and are the product
of an age when the races dwelling in Europe were in the
animistic stage of belief That these superstitions remain
among us despite the good Providence which has left no
parish without a parson and a squire, onlj- shows how the
apathy and impotence of these time-honoured institutions
have been conserving forces to which the Church, in incor-
porating into itself what it found too deeply-seated to
destroy, and with which it had, without knowing it, much
in common, has added her influence and .sanction. The
main conclusion to which the evidence leads is that the
history of races and of their religions in Britain is con-
tinuous from the earliest Neolithic times to this day : that
the non-Aryan — Iberian, Euskarian, or by whatever name
we call them — are not extinct; and that the great body of
superstitious beliefs and customs extant witness to stages of
spiritual development among the peoples of these islands
corresponding exactly to those of every other people who
have emerged from fetichisms to those higher animistic
conceptions which yet form the backbone of current theo-
logies from " China to Peru."

In our desire to give prominence to the facts which
wai'rant that conclusion, we have left ourselves no space to
enlarge upon the copious and valuable analyses of the Welsh
and Irish heroic legends, in which Professor Rhys discovers
traces of Celtic deities, both major and minor, and of Celtic
mythology. The process of transmutation, sometimes in-
volving the degradation which the gods of an older faith
undergo, has ample illustration here, and it is in the identi-
fication of the ancient divinities with the kings and heroes
of romantic legends common to both Wales and Ireland
that the ingenious and cautious scholarship of Professor
Rhys is especially manifest.

While not committing himself to that wholesale rejection
of the philological method of interpieting myths. Professor
Rhys honestly admits that his views and methods have under-

gone material change, and he further wins our confidence
by his recantation of that " Aryan heresy " of which
Professor Max Miiller seems likely soon to find himself the
sole defender, and by his frank acceptance of the method
which compares savage myths and rites with th.e traces of
like absurdities and practices imbedded in the literatures
and theologies of civilised races. In the concluding lecture,
after justifying the dethronement of Sanskrit from its over-
exaggerated place as the special representative of the Aryan
parent-speech, and expressing his agreement with the
revived theory of the Northern European origin of the
Aryans,* he concludes his learned book with the following
summary of what he regards as the earliest creed of the
Celts :—

In the beginning Eartb and Heaven were great world-giants, and
they were the parents of a numerous offspring ; hut the Heaven in
tlioEC days lay upon the Eartli, and their childicn, crowded between
them, were unhappy and without light, as was also their mother.
So she and they took counsel together against Heaven, and one ot
his sons, who was bolder than the others, undertook shamefully to
mutilate Heaven— nay, he and his brothers stayed not their hands
till they had cut the world-giant, their father, into many pieces.f
Out of his skull they made the firmament, and the spilling o£ the
blood of his body caused a great flood, which, as it settled in the
hollows ot the earth, made up the sea. J

Some of the children of Earth and Heaven were born bright
beings or gods, who mostly loved the light and the upper air; and
some were giants or Titans, who were of a darker and glromier hue.
These latter hated the gods, and the gods bated them. The daring
son of earth who began the mutilation ot the world-giant was one
of the Titans, and he became their king ; but the gods did not wish
him to rule over them and their abode, so he was driven from his
throne by his youngest son, who was bom a god. The king, beaten
in battle, sailed away to other parts of hisiealm; and after much
wandering on the sea, he was at last received in the country of the
happy departed, whence he was afterwards thought to bless the
farmer's toil and to help man in other ways.

"When the great flood caused by the mangling of the world-giant
took place, all men were drowned save a single pair saved in a ship.
He who made and owned the ship was not a man, nor did the gods
own him as one of them, but he was a giant or Titan who was
kindly disposed towards the race ; .nnd when he had safely landed
them where they were to dwell, he went away to the same place
as the dethroned king. For he was of his kith and kin, unless
perhaps those are to be followed who thought the two were but one
and the .same person, and that person no other than the ruler of the
departed himself, the god of all beginning and all end. Viewed
through the medium of the latter, he appeared to be the demon of
darkness and horror and death, ever busily adding to the number of
his victims ; but through the former he was seen to be the first
father and great parent of all, so it was ever a matter of piety to
reckon darkness before light, the night before the day, and winter
before summer.

The new king of the gods was of a passing brilliant nature, so
they called him Bright and Day and Father Sky. He was a mighty
warrior, but he had terrible foes, wlio forced him to take part in many
a fearful struggle. When he fought in summer he always triumphed,
but he fared ill in the winter c-nflicts. On one occasion he was
badly wounded, and would never have recovered his former strength
and form but for the timely aid of a man who was a cunning leech,
and on another he and the other gcds would have been hard beset
liad they not taken care to secure the help of the Sun-hero. This
last was' not a god, but the youthful son of a mortal. There was,
however, no spearman anywhere to equal him, and his father was
fo wise and crafty that he had forced the gods to treat mankind
far better than they had before been wont to do. For the good
things bestowed on man were often begrudged by the gods, and
most of all by the owners of the wealth of the nether world and the
land of the happy dead. They hated this mortal, so kind to his
race, and made him suffer untold pain and torture, but he always
succeeded in the end in all that he set his mind on achieving, as
when, for example, he cheated them of the dog that was to be the
hunter s friend and servant ; also of the other animals he stole from

* Cf. Professor Ehys's excellent discussion of this question in
his article on " Race Theories and European Politics " in the jVrw
Princeton Setiew, .Tanuary 1888.

t Vid. Knowledge, April 1888, p. 1.16.

X Cf. Grimm, "T. Mythol.," 559; and Vigfusson and Powell's
" Corpus Poet. Boreale," i. 64.

19G

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

them as likely to be of use to his kiudred. It was from the same
nether country that he likewise obiained bj- craft and falsehood the
strong drink that was to cheer man, to give him the dreams of poets
and the visions of prophets. These and otlier boons, too many to
name one by one, made him very famous and beloved, more so in
some lands than even the king of the gods himself.

ENGLISH PRONUNCIATION.

i,T first sight it seems strange that the pro-
nunciation of English, though diverse both
in America and in England, is more diverse
in the old home of the language than in the
new. But so soon as we recognise why this
is, and why even in Scotland and Ireland
peculiaiities of pronunciation are retained
which have long since been lost in England, we perceive
that in past ages English in England must have been even
more diverse than it is now, and must have tended to change
more rapidly. The circumstances which, while encouraging
the growth of a language, tend to uniformity of usage — as
constant and ready intercommunication, widely read litera-
ture, and the like — were almost wholly wanting when our
language was young ; nor was the necessity apparent in any
of the earlier English communities for such care in teaching
as might prevent unduly rapid changes.

Those who remember England as it was but a generation
ago will see that there has been even in that time a marked
advance towards uniformity. The English of Northumber-
land was distinct from that of Yorkshire, and neither was
like the English of Cumberland or Lancashire. The midland
counties had various dialects ; while the dialects of Dorset-
shire, of Wiltshire, or of Devon were not only diSercnt from
any used in the midland or northern counties, but differed
widely Inter se. In places remote from considerable towns
the language spoken was almost as difficult to understand
as Dutch or Frisian.

That in long past times '• English as she was spoke " in
different places was various and variable is showm also by
the language as it was written. Bishop Edfrid, about the
year 700, began the Lord's Prayer thus :

Uren. fader tJiic arth it- Jienfnas, sic gekalgnd thin noma; so
cijmcth thill ric ; sic thin n-ill a sue in hcofnas and in eortlis.

Only two centuries later the same part of the prayer was
thus rendered :

Thue vr fadiT the eart on hcofrnnm ; si thin nama gehalgod cunie ;
thin rice [■' c " hard] ; si thin willa on carthan siva sieo on heofcnum.

We may be sure it was not diflFerence in time only, but
difference in dialect which caused this difference of form.
Indeed some of the words in the more recent rendering are
older in form than those in the earlier.

About the year 1160, Adrian, our only English Pope,
rendered the same part of the Lord's Prayer in the following
poetic form, probably the earliest rh^-mcd poetry in the
language : —

J'refailcf in hsarcn rieh * (ricli = kingdom),

Thif name he halytd crer!ic/i.

Than tiring iis thy michcU hlisse ;

Ah hit in hiaren y doc,

£i'ar in ycarth hccn it alsoc.

(Observe the looseness of his Holiness's aspirates, as shown
in " hit " and " it.")

In 1,'537 the Lord's Prayer, as printed for gener.il use,
began thus : —

0 cure Father which arte in heven, hallowed he thy name : let
thy kingdom come, thy will be fulfilled as well in erth as it is in
heven, etc.

• " Ch " hard and guttural throughout.

We see here most striking evidence of the influence of
printing in preventing the rapid change of a language, and
in smoothing down diversities already existing. For while
the earlier forms of the same sentences might have been in
(liff'erent languages, so diverse are they, we find in 1.337 a
form which differs only in .spelling from the language of
to-day. (I doubt whether the " e " in " oure " and " arte "
was sounded in the sixteenth century, though it certainly
had been in the fourteenth. Probably it was a mere
survival in spelUng, like the final " e " in " were,'' " are,"
kc.

But on this question of diversity of dialect in the past
as at the present time in England, we have curious
evidence in an address, written a.d. 13S.5, on this very
subject : —

As it is knowe how meny manor peple beeth in this lond, ther
beeth also so many dyvers longages and tonges. Natheless
Walschemen and Scots that beeth nought medled wi^h other
nation, holdeth wel nyh hir firste longage and speche ; but yit the
Scottes, that were sometime confederate and woned with tlie I'ictes,
drawe somewhat after hir speche ; but the Flemynges, that woneth
on the west side of Wales, havelh lost her strange spech, and
speketh Se.xonliche now. Also Englishemen, they had from the
begynnynge thre maner speche ; northerne, soatherne, and middel
speclie in the middel of tlie lond, as they come of thre maner of
peple of Germania ; notheles9 by commystion and mellynge, first
with Danes and afterwards with Normans, in meny the oontry
longage is apayred (_corriij)tcd).

This ancient writer, whose very name has been forgotten
(I have quoted fi-om Dr. Hicks, of the last century, verbatim
et literatim, except that he has ''contrary" where I have
written " contry "), proceeds then to inquire into the cause
of this diversity. Strangely enough, he dwells on a point
which I shall presently have occasion to consider — the cir-
cumstance that a foreign language changes little within ,a
country where it is foreign, while the native tongue varies
greatly :—

Hit seemeth a greet wonder how Englischemen and her own
longage and tonge is so dyverse of sown in this oon Hand, and the
longage of Normandie is comlynge of another lond, and hath oon
maner of soun amongo alle men that speketh hit aright in
Enoelond. Also of the aforesaid Saxon tonge that is deled
{dirided) a three, and is abide scirceliche with few uplondissche
men, is greet wonder. For men of the est, with men of the west,
is, as it were, under the same partie of hevene accordeth more (our
author's grammar seems slightly mixed here, at an.v rate his mean-
ing is not clear) in sownynge of speche than men of tlie north with
men of the south. Therefore it is tli.it Mercii, that beeth men of
myddel Englelond, as it were, parteners of the endes, understandeth
bettre the side londes, noitherne and southerne, than northerne and
southerne understondeth either other.

He adds some special remarks about the " maneres of
speche " in diff'erent parts of the island which might bo
worth quoting in full if he had used " longage " we could
understand. But probably the following specimen will
suffice : —

All the longage of the Northumbors, and speohialliche at York, is
so scharp, flitting,* and frotynge, and unsch.ape, that we southerne
men may tliat longage unnethe understonde

any more perhaps than we nineteenth -century men cm
" understonde " what sort of a " longage" our author would
indicate by such " very bitter words " as " frotj-nge " and
" unschape," or even by the more fomiliar " scharp " and
" flitting."

Although this evidence as to the constant changes which
our language has undergone, and as to the diversity of
form and sound which it has presented in the ])ast, even
more markedly than at the present time, may prevent us
from expecting to discover what was the English spoken in

* In my copy the word reads "slitting." It seems clear, how-
ever, that the original word was " flitting."

July 2, 1888.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

191

the time of Shakespeare or at more remote dates, yet we
may still hope to recognise some at any rate among the
peculiarities which distinguished the English of past times
from the English of to-day. The circumstance noted by
the old writer above quoted, that foreign languages retain
their form — as Norman among " Englischemen that speketh
hit aright " — may direct us in the seaixh for the older forms
of our familiar English, and enable us often to select
between the various sounds given to the same word in
different places at the present time.

Thus, when we remember that in many parts of the old
British settlements in America English was almost in the
position of a foreign tongue, requiring to be carefully
guarded against undue change, we see that in America,
even as it is now, the Englishman may seek for old forms of
pronunciation which have long since died out in England
itself. This is, of course, exactly the reverse of what
Englishmen generally expect to find in America, and of the
interpretation which they place on what they actually find.
"When Dickens noticed the pronunciation " air " for " are,"
which was commoner in America in 1844: than it is
now (though it is still heard there), he took it for gi-anted
that it was a corruption. But in reality this is the old
way, or rather a once widely prevalent way, of pronouncing
the word ; in outlying parts of England it is still very
frequently heaid. Jn like manner the .strange sound of the
" e " in the words " very," " American," &c., which we hear
in New England and elsewhere, though not exactly the
original sound, is probably nearer to it than that more
usu.ally heard in the States, and always heard in England.

We find here a sort of rule for obtaining the best infor-
mation about the original character of any doubtful sound.
We seek for it where the circumstances have been .such that
change would be least likelj' to occur. We can never be
quite sure that no change has taken place, but we know
where and how changes occur most freely and frequently,
and where, on the other hand, the circumstances favour
stability of pronunciation. For example, America to-day,
regarded as a whole, is far less likely to show the original
pronunciation of English words than one of the old colonies
would have been had it retained its colonial character until
now. A portion of the St.ates where circumstances favour
constant intercommunication is less likely to retain old
forms than some region where the inhabitants live for the
most part in the place of their birth, and neither see nor
heiir much of their fellow-countrymen at a distance. England
itself would be the place where the ruling form of the
English language would differ most from the original, pre-
cisely as the central stem of a tree extends farther from the
trunk than any others. Yet in parts of England we may
expect to find useful evidence of the old forms of English,
while in old English literature we recogni.se evidence of
another kind which may be exceedingly useful, if only we
can ascertain just what sounds the letters emjjloyed in
spelling different words were intended to represent. In
Scotland, however, and in Ireland, we should have an even
better chance of finding ancient forms of speech and of pro-
nunciation, and so much the better chance as we went
fiirther from the centres of population, to which changes
introduced in the original home of the language would most
leadily spread.

There are some interesting considerations to which an
application of this general principle (that old forms survive
longest in out-of the-way corners) seems to lead. This iield
of inquiry has been much less surveyed than many might
imagine, who know only of the immense amount of labour
which has been devoted to the study of the English lan-
guage and its history. In nearly all researches into this
subject, it has been taken for granted, if not aptually

asserted, that the language has progressed steadily from
form to form. In reality, even so far as the written lan-
guage, or the language of the better educated, has leen
concerned, this is far from jepiesenting the truth ; but it is
still farther fiom tl.at, as regards the language spoken by
the English people.

As 1 have said, we find at the very outset of our inquiry
a difhculty arising fiom our inability to determine what
sounds the various letteis. and especially the vowels, in old
books and documents were intended to lepresent. Spelling
in old times was a free-and-ea.sy matter. Yet we must .sup-
pose a writer, even though he altered his spelling of a word
half-a-dozen times in the course of as many pages (or per-
haps as many .sentences), yet pronounced it always in one
way. What, then, are we to understand when we find (for
example) the word which we spell "great," spelled grat,
grate, great, greate, gret, grete, greet, greete, grayt, griiyte,
and so forth, by one and the same writer, in one and the
same chapter] At first it seems difficult to answer. But
so soon as we remember that in the first place he must h.ave
pronounced the word in one way (except possibly that
according to its position before a vowel or a consonant it
may have been deprived or not of seme faint trace of the
sound originally represented by the final " e "), while there
must have been some recognised limit in his day to the
sounds which the letters a, e, ca, ce, ay, itc, could represent,
we see that in this very multiplicity of spelled forms of a
single word we have a means of determining both the
jironunciation of words, and the force of the dilferent
letters in the spelling of the period. To take for ex-
ample this particular word " great," from such evidence
as the above spellings afford wo may be sure the
word was pronounced in the writer's time nearly
if not exactly as now ; and further, that while " e " repre-
sented generally in the spelling of his time the sound of "a"
in "fate," "a" had already lost the "ah" sound (as in
"far"), which originally belonged to it. We might be
doubtful if, as in the quotation above from English of the
fourteenth century, we only found the spelling "greet";
this might rejiresent the same sound as in <Hir word so
spelled now. And in like manner "grayt" might rejiresent
a sound rhyming to "rite." Nor would "great" help us
alone, for the pronunciation mii;ht have been such (so far as
this spelling could tell us) as to make the word rhyme with
"heat" and "feat" of to-day. But the pronunciation of
"great "as at present is the only one which corresponds
nearly enough with all the spellings to be admissible as the
sound they were all, no doubt, intended to represent.

A single case such as this starts a long series of inquiries.
If "ea," for example, represented satisfiictorily in that
writer's day the sound of " ea " in " great," may not other
words spelled at that time with "ea," and still retaining
that spelling, have been similarly pronounced 1 If they
retained that old pronunciation until after the time when
the spelling of words began to be settled as a matter of
custom rather than convenience, then, though the pro-
nunciation might change, the spelling would remain.

Let us turn to a few words thus spelled : —

AVe smile at Pat when he talks of the " say " and " fay,"
"raison"and " saison," and so forth. Doufjtless it would

social converse

be wrong so to pronounce these words in
with persons of culture. Yet when we find that these
words were spelled " sea " and " tea," " reason " and
" season," at a time when " e " had still its proper .sound as
of "a "in "fate," while "ea" did duty for a somewhat
longer "a" sound, we may suspect that the Irishman of
to-day simply retains a pronunciation which we liave lost.
This view is confirmed when we consider that Ita is the
same word which in French is represented by l/i-c, almost

198

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

equivalent to tay, though it must be remembered that " th "
in French is not, as many imagine, precisely equivalent to
simple " t " ; the aspirate counts for something, as every one
knows who has heard French spoken properly. I say this
view is confirmed, not that it is demonstrated, by the
French pronunciation. For we must remember that French
pronunciation might have changed as much as English.
The probabilities are that it would. The only reason we
have for trusting rather to the French than to the English
spelling is that French spelling is more uniform in signi-
ficance, and if we supposed the in the eighteenth centui-y
■was pronounced " tee," we should have to suppose all French
■words .spelled with " e " at that time also pronounced with
the " ee " sound, ■which is rather more than unlikely.

We find farther evidence about the word "tea," because
Pope makes it rhyme with '• day." Since Pope was
usually careful with his rhyming, insomuch that he would
spoil the grammar to keep the rhyme true (writing
" begun " for " began, ' or vice virsa, and the like), this is
practically decisive. We see here an undoubted case in
which the sound " ay " has degenerated in England into the
sound " ee."

(To he concluded.)

THE DURATION OF OUR COAL SUPPLY.

By W. M.\ttieu Williams.

PUEPOSE now to conclude this series by dis-
cussing briefly this much-vexed question. My
readers must all know that very widely vary-
ing estimates have been made, some giving us
but another generation or tliereabouts, others
a few centuries of further supply. I am about
to perpetrate the extreme presumption of
differing from both, and asserting that the exhaustion of
our coal-fields has already commenced, is rapidly proceeding,
and yet will never be completed.

This apparent parados will solve itself by considering the
conditions of the problem. Wo began by working the best
and the most easily worked seams, and we did this at a time
when most of the coal now in the course of working •was
inaccessible, could not be worked at all. The mere removal
of the water that accumulates in most of the pits now
working would have been practically impossible with the
pumps or buckets of our forefathers. If we were now only
able to do what they could do, our coal supplies would
already have ended. With such appliances coal fuel would
be dearer than wood fuel, seeing that we have already worked
out the coal that was commercially within their reach.

From the very beginning, when only the outcrops were
grubbed, until the present time we have been gradually
working out the richest and most workable of existing
seams, and are doing so still ; every year's working increases
the difficulty of obtaining the next year's supply, and in-
creases its cost, unless improved appliances and means of
working effect a proportionate economy. This will go on con-
tinuallj' until the cost of obtaining home supplies is so great
that it will be cheaper to import foreign coal than to work
our own. The American coal-fields contain quite a hundred
times as much coal as ours. China probably has nearly as
much as America, and so on with other parts of the w'orld.
The principal diflerence between our coal wealth and that of
other nations is personal rather than physical. It is not
our greater supplies underground, but our greater energy in
raising thorn ta the surface and using them productively, that
has place! us at the head of coal-proluoing and coal-using
nations.

It is true that this general action of first working the
best coal is not without exception. There are bits here and
there that for exceptional reasans have remained unworked,
as where, for instance, the getting of coal would interfere
with the game preserves of Sjjuire Mohawk, whos9 superior
" culture " and high social rank have rendered it necessary
that he sho'ald devote himself to bird-slaughtering and other
bloo-l-shedJing amusements. These exceptions do not, how-
ever, practically afi'ect the result, owing to the necessary
operation of the economic law that the market value of any
openly sold commodity is determined by the cast value of
the most costly portion which is required to supply the
demand.

As we proceed to deeper and deeper seams, a time will
arrive when the cost of vertical transit from seam to surface
will exceed the cost of horizontal transit across the Atlantic.
In vertical cost I include not merely haulage, but all the cost
connected with deep pits and deep workings. But here
again we have a complication. Before this exact state of
things ai'rives, i.e. when our coal shall cost more to bring it
up to the pit bank than to import from other countries, there
will be a long period during which it will cost less to bring
coal from America to our south-western ports than to raise it
from our own coal-fields and carry it to these places by rail.

People living in such places as Plymouth, Dartmouth,
Portsmouth, Brighton, London, <fcc., and paying 'lOs. to
30«. per ton for coal, are apt to forget that as much as
75 per cent, of these prices are for carriage and middle
profits, that the price of coal at the pit's mouth ranges even
now from 5.s. to Is. per ton. There are coal seams close to
the sea coast in Nova Scotia, which might, if sufficient
enterprise existed there, be put on board specially-con-
structed ships, and delivered in oar south and west coast
towns, or in London, at about 15s. per ton. Even lower
estimates have been made, and experience shows that in
respect to such carriage the facts commonly fall below the
estimates. Some years ago the oil masters of Scotland
and North Wales (of whom I was unfortunately one) sent
out a special commissioner to learn the lowest cost of import-
ing refined petroleum from Pennsylvania to London. His
estimate of total cost, including barrels, insurance, &c., was
Is. to Is. id. per gallon. Allowing price at the wells
to be Qd. per gallon, we felt safe to compete at Is. ^d.
I have just finished a barrel of the best water-white
kerosine which I purchased last autumn retail in a London
suburb at (S\d. per gallon. This includes prime cost,
carriage, barrel, insurance, and two profits. I have no
doubt that when the carriage of coal across the Atlantic
to London becomes fully davelopad, the freight will be
reduced to is. or 5s. per ton, or about half the present
railway rates and truck hire from Newcastle or Durham
or Derbyshire.

I also believe that the reason why this has not already
occurred is merely an artificial one. It is simply because
the capitalists of the United States and Canada imagine
that a new country can better nourish its infant industries
by excluding foreign products (even those that feed the
infants) than by developing their own natural resources by
the free action of natural selection.

But even when the extreme condition is fulfilled, when
the average depth of the Newcastle pits is, say, 3,000 feet
greater than that of the American pits near the coast, and
our vertical difficulties equal their horizontal dilBculties of
3,000 miles, we shall not even then cease working our coal,
for by this time the Americans will be exhausting their
most favourably situated and richest seams, and then both
they and we -will be proceeding towards the more and more
costly, until at last wood fuel will be cheaper than coal at
even moderate distances from the mouths of coal pits.

July 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

199

While this is proceeding we shall gradually drop those
industries which demand the greatest supply of coal in pro-
portion to value of result. Thus our blast furnace.?, and
other smelting furnaces, will be blown out. We shall cease
to make crude pig iron and other crude metal, the cost of
which chiefly depends on that of coal and ore, but not being
addicted to the misdirection of industry by legislative inter-
ference, we shall develop our industries in the direction of
higher elaborations of the raw material. One ton of watch
springs demands more industiy and has higher value than
a thousand tons of pig iron, while the pig iron demands
five hundred times as mucli coal for its production. There-
fore by the aid of unfettered natural selection, and the sur-
vival of the fittest, the blast furnaces will be blown out, and
an evolution of those industries demanding more labour,
more skill, and more intelligence, and less fuel, will proceed,
provided we retain those energies which at the proper time
brought our coal to the surface, and created the steam-engine
to pump the pits when more powerful pumps were needed,
and also created railways and locomotives to carrj- it through-
out the land when such carriage was demanded.

I have alwaj's regarded, and frequently described, the
notion that our manufacturing supremacy depends on our
coal supplies as a gi-oss popular failacv, and one which at
the present day may be very mischievous if it induces us to
lean upon such a rotten staff. The sooner we understand
that any physical advantage in coal supply we ever
possessed has already gone, the better for our future pro-
gress. It is not desirable that we should continue to be the
coal-cellar of the world, nor that we should depend on the
coarser industries that are so voracious of fuel.

Our old form of " manufacturing supremacy " is becoming
a national curse. We import more than a million of eggs
daily, and corresponding quantities of butter, cheese, fruit,
and other agricultural produce. We obtain these in exchange
for factory products, for goods that are hatefully produced at
the cost of national degeneracy by the crowding of millions of
miserable wretches into the slums of manufacturing towns,
where their unhealthy work and surroundings c;\use them
to produce stunted, scrofulous, and vicious offspring. At
the same time we are extending the big fixctoiy and steam-
engine system of work to our agriculture, and thereby con-
verting into a prairie a country that should be a garden.
Farming is becoming one of the lost arts in England, our
so-called farmers being mere graziers, wholesale manu-
facturers of mere beef and mutton.

Coal worship has promoted the exaggerated use of grossness
in everything ; big mechanical work done by big engines in
big factories, producing big incomes at one end and big union
workhouses at the other. Let us endeavour to supersede
these by small farms highly worked by peasant proprietors,
and small workshops belonging to highly skilled and artistic
artisans, with good wages all round.

King Coal must be dethroned, and with him will go his
grovelling money-grubbing courtiers, to be replaced by a
commonwealth of individual industrial skill and intelligence
naturally fitting a small island densely populated, and with
a climate so moderate in all directions that a full day's work
may be done on any day throughout the year.

Let other nations do the big things, the tall work, and
the coarse work — let us do the best. But we cannot step
into this position at once. This progress, like that of our
coal exhaustion, with which it is intimately connected, must
be gradual and endless. Instead of relying on coal or iron
ores or any other physical advantages, we must prepare for
their declining supply by developing more reliable and
enduring sources of prosperity — the intelligence of all the
people, especially the workers. A rich man can afford
to be a fool, and the nation can afford to let him play the

fool provided he is a harmless fool ; but not so with the
industrial millions. They must be highly educated in order
to do the higher work demanded under the new conditions.
They determine the progress of the nation, whether it has
little coal, or much coal, or no coal. If we understand this
and act upon it, the gi'adual exhaustion of our coal supplies
will be a national blessing. We shall have fewer flunkey-
feeding millionaues — or, better still, none ; and fewer
paupers — or, better still, none ; but the nation will be
enriched by consisting mainly of skilful and intelligent
wealth-producers suflicientlj' well paid to obtain rational
comfort, but not sufficiently to become sensual sybarites.

EASY STUDY IN THE DIFFERENTIAL
CALCULUS.

SCTGGESTED BY TUE "S.iTUEDAY REVIEW."

X my " Easy Lessons in the Differential Cal-
culus," written specially for beginners, and
rather to show them how well woith studying
the Calculus is than as a treatise on that im-
portant pait of mathematics, I explain in
Lesson I. and illustiate by an example what is
meant by " ditferentiation," and in Lesson II.
what is meant by " integration." The particular example
selected is the fall of a body under the action of gravit}-,
£0 that in these two short lessons I cons-ider only the differ-
ential coefficient of the familiar expression " , representing

the space fallen through in time t under gravity. In
Lesson III. (only four pages in length) I take another
simple expres-ion {ay—y'), for diflerentiation, "before pro-
ceeding to obtain the diflerential coefficients of various
familiar functions." At this very early stiige, before I had
given the differential coeffi-cients of anii of tlie simjjle func-
tions (attended to in Lessons IV. and Y.), I thought it well
to show how even the pre-elementarj' matter already dealt
with could be used in solving a familiar problem or two.
Having only the differential coefficient of (« y — y'-) available
for the purpose, I was naturall}- somewhat limited in my
choice, especially as I had barely begun to show the rela-
tions between differential coefficients and the increments or
decrements of variable quantities. I selected two cases
which involved the expression (ay — y-) or y{fi—y); the
first related to the recfcmgle between two lines of length,
y and {a — y), the problem being the determination of the
value of y, in order that the rectangle represented in area
by y{a — y) might be a maximum. Every geometrician
knows the problem and its answer, and half-a-dozen ways of
solving it. Every algebraist knows what value of y makes
the expression {a y—y'-) a maximum, and how to prove that
this happens. But of course the illustration of the special
point I was considering would be none the worse for the
familiar character of the problem dealt with — perhaps rather
the better. The point to be illustrated was the way in
which the differential calculus can be applied to probleins,
which, dealt with geometrically or algebraically, require
usually some special device planned to meet each case as it
arises, which is true even for these very simple cases.

However, the Saturday Review has thought it fair to
treat as follows this simple illustration, given at the very
beginning of my subject, before I had dealt with the
simplest of the diflerential coefficients, and specially de-
scribed as merely a preliminary example of the method of
using the diflerential calculus : —

Lesson III. is headed " Illustrations of the Use of the Calculus "
[the reviewer might have noticed, had he cared to be honest, that

200

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

Lesson IV. is headed " Differentiating Simple Functions " ; Lesson V.
the same; Lesson VI., "Differentiating Composite Functions";
and that Lessons VIII., X , XI , XII., and XIII. are all devoted to
" Illustrations of the Dse of the Calcnlas." However, it suited him
better to describe Lesson III., preceding even the simplest differen-
tiations, as though it were the only lesson relating to the use of the
CalculusJ. When we turn to see how Mr. Proctor applies this
great engine, we find only two little problems, neitlier of which
requires anything of the sort. The tir=t is a question about a
straight line. In this there is nothing wanted beyond the iiflli pro-
position of Euclid's second book to do easily in two lines or three,
what Mr. Proctor occupies a printed page with. Need one have a
telescope fetched, tripod and all [strange idea this man has about
an astronomer's telescope] to look at the clock on the chimney-
piece ? The second jiroblem or " illustration " is equally simple, and
equally undeserving of having so great an engine set in motion ; in
fact, it is easily shown to depend on the same proposition of Euclid
when a rectangle is interpreted algebraically, and can thus be done
more quickly than by Mr. Proctor's mode [meaning " method," it
may be presumed].

Asa matter of fact, the geometrical problem would not
require the second book of Euclid at <^ll, thonjrb it could be
given as a corollary to the problem mentioned b^' the
Saturday Revievjei-. The geometrical solution might, for
example, rim as follows, without going beyond Book I. : — •

Let A B (tig. 1) be the line, C its bi.ser-tion, D a point in
AC. Complete the square A C F E, and the rectangle

I

F

FK4.

D B H G, having the side B H equal to A D. Produce
D CI to meet E F in K. Then the rectangle A K is equal
to the rectangle C H, since A D=B H and A E=AC=C B).
Add G C. Then the rectangle G B is equal to the fin-ure
E D L, or is less than the square E C. Q.E.D.

Algebraically, the proof of the proposition that (^ax—a-)

is greatest when x=^^ can hardly escape anyone who has
ever solved a quadratic equation. It runs simply thus :

, a-

a x—x-^

4

which is manifestly greatest when .<■

QED.

Now my page of printed matter (really two-thirds of
a page, but that is near enough for the ,S'. /,'.) gives not only
the solution of the problem, but an explanation of the prin-
ciple on which the application of the differential calculus to
such problems depends — this being what I desired to show,
not how to solve a problem which involves in itself no diffi-
culty whatever. " Mr. Proctor's mode " or method con-
sisted in showing at the very beginning of his little book
how the differential calculus is applieil to problems of a
certain class. (For this a page would not have been too
much, though little more than half a page sufficed.)

Albeit, if one can imagine a mathematician in any
momentary doubt as to the value of .<■ which will make
{ax — x-) a maximum, one would certainly expect him to
apply the differential calculus, because this would save him
all trouble. Antecedently it would be doubtful in most
cases of the kind whether a geometrical or algebraical
method could be lit upon easily — and it may be remarked
in passing that whea we are told that this or that problem,
readily solved by the differential calcuhis, can be solved

geometrically or algebraically, we may generally be sure (if it

has any difficulty in it) that the geometrician or algebraist

has first solved it by the calculus, or seen some one else's

solution, and has then inquired how the known result could

be obtained geometrically.

A mathematician proceeding on the sensible plan of

applying the only method which is sure and easy, without

troubling himself about its being a "great engine"" (which is

sheer nonsense), would have easier work than either the

geometrician or algebraist, easy though (as we have seen)

their task would be. The problem is :— " If ?/=« a; — a--,

when is ya maximum?" The "great engine" does the

work thus (the engineer knowing that for any expression to

be a maximum its diflereutial coefficient must vanish) :

d V .T a

-^=a—2x = o- .-. x=^.
dx -J,

Of course the easier the example selected, the less favourably
the work of the " great engine " compares with the work of
any smaller engine capable of effecting it. Still, the above
is not very hard work ; and be it noticed that it involves
much less thought than even the simple geometrical and
algebraical methods presented e.arlier, little though the
thought be that they require. (We see that even & Satur-
day lleviev) mathematician can puzzle out one of those solu-
tions, though, to be sure, he makes a large fuss over his
small achievement, and his solution is f\u- from being even
the best of its kind — alwa3-s supposing it original.)

This particular example illustrates the use of the "great
engine" ("I thank thee," S.R., "for teaching me ^hat
w-ord") quite as well as one I give further on— in Lesson
^"flL — which, treated as a geometrical problem, would be
more difficult. (I would back it to beat the Saturdai/
lieviewer, though I think— but cannot be sure till I have
tried — that a geometrician would not take long over it. I
will try presentl.v.) It is the problem of dete'rmining the
greatest cone which can ba inscrilied in a sphere of radius r.
Here the solution by the dilferenti.al calculus runs easily
and smoothly as follows : —

Taking x for the height of the cone, we get for its volume
((/) the expression

y=|(2r.r'2-,r3);

whence ~=^ (4r.x- — 3a;'-) —o (for a maximum or

minimum).

So that either x=o, giving obviously a minimum,

4: y . .
or 0!=-:^, giving the required maximum.
o

As some readers may like to see how this problem is to

be solved geometrically, I give the solution in that way,

fearing lest the weakling mathematician of the Saturday
Revieiv should waste a month of his valuable time in vainly
attemptinjr to find one : —

Let ABC (fig. 2) be a section of the maximum cone
through O, the sphere's centre; B D, the cone's height.

July 2, 1888.]

KNONA^LEDGE ♦

201

Let F B G be the section of a cone, having the height B H
very little greater than B D. Let F B, A C, intersect in a,
and draw F c perpendicular to A a. Then obviouslj' A a F
is ultimately a triangle similar to B C A. [The angle
ArtF=angle B«C'=iult. angle BAC; and angle «AF=
angle A B C] Draw C K perpendicular to A B, corre-
sponding, in the larger triangle, to Fc perpendicular to An
in the smaller.

Now, the right-angled triangles F c « and B D « being
.similar, we have

Fc : BD::ac : aT> ;
■whence F c . « D =B T> . ac.

.-. Fc. (aD)-=BD .ac.«D (1)
But if the cone B A C is a maximum, the increment in
pa.ssing to the cone B F G must be equal to the decrement :
wlionee idtimately (when AD^cD^^a D, etc.)

7r.Fc(aD)-=7r

BD

A a. 2 « D

(2)

Comparing (1) and (2) we see that for a maximum we
must have —

fl C=:|A«

or AK=iAB=2KB.

Join E A and draw D L perpendicular to A B, bi.secting A K
in L (beaiuse AD^DC). Then since LD and AE are
parallel and B L=^ A B

'BD = § BE=i Bo;
the same result as by the " great engine." But the " great
engine " did the work more easily.*

The Saturdatj Ileview having displaj-ed its profundity
thus effectively, proceeds in the following strain : —

In tlie table of contents, we were astonished to find the heading
" Elliptic Integrals," [In reality the heading is " Elliptic and
Hyperbolic Integrals," but to have roentioned this would have
baulked the S. R.'s attempt at sarcasm.] but on looking up the
chapter found not a word about them, as ordinarily understood,
but only a proposition about finding the area of an fllijise by inte-
gration. Must we conclude that the author did not know what the
phrase meant ? [The S. R. naturally leaves it to be understood
that we must come to this distressing conclusion.]

Now if I were given to betting, I would be prepared to
offer a tolen^bly large wager that the writer of this critique
(save the mark !) does not in the least know what an
" elliptic integral," as commonly understood, really is, or
why it is called an " elliptic integral," or for what purposes
the .so-called " elliptic functions " were discussed by
Legendre. The way in which he emphasises the word
"ellipse" (for the italics are his) shows this clearly enough.
Evidently that sarcastic emphasis would have come in quite
as effectively if he had had to say that he only found a
proposition about rectifying the arc of an ellipse by inte-
gration— though such a proposition would have related
unquestionably to " elliptic integrals " as commonly under-
stood.

The fact is that the phrase " elliptic integrals," as com-
monly used, is a con^-enient misnomer. In the rectification
of an ellipse (centre as origin of co-ordinates, major axis 1,
and eccentricity e), we obtain the equation —

f / i ga x^

s^\ A / — d X (where s represents the arc),

and putting a;=sin 6, so that do: — cos, OdO, we get

s=\^T.

e de.

* Here are two easj' problems which either the beginner in the
Differential Calculus or the geometrician can solve: (I) Deter-
mine the maximum cylinder which may be inscribed in a given
sphere. (2) Determine the cylinder of maximum surface which
may be so inscribed.

Now the term " elliptic integrals " is applied conveniently,
but not correctly, to expressions of the form,
where ^/(x,X)dx

X=^/ a + b.T + cx^ + dx^ + ex**
d and e being not both equal to zero. Such integrals can
be classified into others, of which all not expressible by
algebraic, logarithmic, or inverse trigonometrical functions,
have one of the three forms : —

^'^ J Vjl-c'sir^e ^"* J ^ {l-c^-sir?ed6

dd

and

(iii

J(l+^

the integrals being all taken between the limitt-, 0 .and o.

The second form is that already obtained for the rectifica-
tion of the arc of an ellijise ; and for this rea.son, by no
means a perfect one, these integrals are all, for convenience,
called " elliptic integrals."

But if mathematicians may for convenience call several
orders of integrals " elliptic " because one among them
really is elliptic, as appearing in dealing with the rectifica-
tion of the ellipse, they are surely free if it suits their con-
venience (as it did mine in the present case) to call certain
integrals " elliptic " which are really elliptic, as appearing
in dealing with the quadrature of the ellipse — especially if
(as 1 did) they prevent all possibility of mLstake by com-
bining with the term " elliptic," thus used, the term
" hyperbolic " similarly used, because it relates to an order
of integrals appearing when we are dealing with the
quadrature of the hyperbola.

I wanted a convenient heading for a chapter on integrals
relating to the ellipse and hyperbola, so I called them
" elliptic and hyperbolic integrals." I knew that on the
one hand the readers for whom I was writing could not be
in any way misled by this nomenclature, especially as the
chapter itself sufficiently explained the use of the words.
I was equally well assured that no mathematician acquainted
with the technical (but scarcely correct) use of the phrase
" elliptic integrals " could be for a moment misled, if by any
chance he looked over my simple pages. And although the
idea did occur to me that critics of the S. R. class — neither
learners nor learned — might cavil, that did not in the lea.st
trouble me. I knew that on the one hand I was certain to
encounter cavillings of that .sort, and that on the other I
should know well how to treat them, and shoidd even be
able to apply them to a useful purpose, as I am now doing.

That the notice I have been dealing with is feeble and
spiteful may be explained by the fact that it appears in the
paper called the Saturdai/ Review — by some (by others less
euphoniously). Does this remark sound unmannerly '( For
my own part, I think it does. I withdraw it. I was only
trying an experiment. The S. E. says that the defects
(invented) which it pretends to recognise in my two small
and unpretentious books, " First Steps in Geometry " and
"Easy Lessons in the Differential Calculus," "may be ex-
plained by the fact that they consist of papers written for
the magazine called Knowledge." I wanted to see how
such a remark applied even to the Saturday Revikr might
sound. 1 cannot thick that it sounds well.

As for the remark thus rudely made by the S. R., it
chances to be untrue — no very strange chance of late, when
the S. R. is in question. The substance of the two books
dealt with was not written for Knowledge, though it ap-
peared in Knowledge. (The Saturday Review never could

• If under the radical higher powers of x appear than the fourth,
the integrals thence deducible are called " ultra-elliptic " or " hyper-
elliptic."

202

KNOWLEDGE

[July 2, 1888.

be logical, even in its better days.) Both works were
written long before Knowledge began its career. They
were submitted by Messrs. Longmans to the Rev. Mr.
Griffin, of O.spriuge, a Senior Wrangler of long standing and
well known as a mathematician of great power. After
carefully examining both works, he recommended Messrs.
Longmans to accept them for publication, and accordingly
an agreement was drawn up in regard to these two works,
and this agreement — which lies before me as I write — bears
a date preceding the Lssue of the first number of this
magazine. The effort of the ,S'. 7?. to be disagreeable was
well tiled, however.

THACKERAY

AND THE
REVIEW."

SATURDAY

ERE is my Sat'iinhcy Revieiv, and in an
American paper subsequently sent to me,
I light, astonished, on an account of the
dinners of my friend and publisher, which
nre described as ' tremendously heavy,' of
the conversation (which does not take
place) and of the guests assembled at the
table. 1 am informed that the proprietor of the Cornhill,
and the host on these occasions, is ' a very good man but
totally unread,' and that on ray asking him whether Dr.
Johnson was dining behind the screen, he said, ' God bless
my soul, my dear sir, there's no person by the name of
Johnson here, nor any one behind the screen,' and that a
roar of laughter cut him short. I am informed that I have
touched up a contributor's article ; that I once said to a
literary gentleman, who was proudly pointing to an anony-
mous article as his writing, ' Ah I I thought I recognised
your hoof in it.' . . . Then the graceful writer passes on
to the dinners, of which it appears the editor of this maga-
zine ' is the great gun, and comes out with all the geniality
in his power.' Now suppose this charming intelligence is
untrue. Suppose the publisher never made the remark
beginning, ' God bless my soul, my dear sir,' kc, nor any-
thing resembling it ? Suppose nobody roared with laughing.
Suppose the editor of the Cornlnll M(iija:ine never ' touched
up ' one single line of the contrilnition which bears the mark
of his hand ? Suppose he never said to any literary gentle-
man 'I recognised your hoof in any periodical what-
ever? . . . Suppose this back door gossip should be utterly
blundering and untrue, would any one wonder 1 Ah I if
we had only enjoyed the happiness to number this writer
among the contributors to our magazine, what a cheerful-
ness and easy confidence his presence would impart to our
meetings I ... As dear Sam Johnson sits behind the
screen, too proud to show his threadbare coat and patches
among the more prosperous brethren of his trade, there is no
want of dignity in him, in that homely im.age of labour ill
I'ewarded, genius as yet unrecognised, independence sturdy
and uncomplaining. But Mr. Namelass, behind the pub-
lisher's screen uninvited, peering at the company and the
meal, catching up scraps of the jokes, and noting down the
guests' behaviour and conversation — wh.at a figure is his I
Allons, Mr. Nameless 1 Put up your note-book ; walk out
of the hall, and leave gentlemen alone who would be private,
and wish you no hai'm." — Thackeray in the Itoundahout
Paper " On Screens in Dining-rooms."

[This paragraph, as it stands, would give an unfair idea
of Thackeray's strictures. The Saturday I'l'vieiv in 1860
was a powerful paper. Those were the best days mentioned
by Matthew Arnold in his pi'aise of the American paper
The Nation. In the article quoted Thackeray speaks

of the Saturday Review as piquing itself (" and justly and
honourably in the main ") on its gentlemanly as well as its
literary character. It was then, moreover, usually manly,
though it was always chai'acterised by the weakness indi-
cated by declining ever to correct or admit mistakes, to
which, in common with all things human, it was liable.
We find even a man of science like Darwin, though
remarking with reference to a critique in its pages that
" One cannot expect fairness in a reviewer, so I do not com-
plain &c.," I'ecognising real worth in a Saturday Review
criticism of his " Origin of Species." (This seems so strange,
now !) It is true that the criticism [not the critique as a
whole), though true, did " not at all concern the main argu-
ment." Still the change indicated by such evidence of
what the <S'. R. once was is startling, even to us who have
been able to note its progress. Imagine a paper once so
conducted that a Darwin could learn a lesson (on a point of
detail) from its pages, reduced to such a point that Sir
William Jenner should be spoken of by one of its " young
buccaneers " as the inventor of vaccination ! — Ed.]

BRITISH AND IRISH FAIRIES.

By Stella Occidens (Mary Proctor).

When Puck appears and spins him round,

And glides amid the dance,
Behind iiim, with him to rejoice,

Hundreds of sprites advance.

■JMONG the superstitious folk in the North
of England it is supposed that fairy elves
haunt the woodland glens, and on moonlit
nights they are to be seen dancing a merry
roundelay * on the green sward. If any
one has the courage to run in their midst
and steal the drinking-glass they use at
these festivals, it will bring good luck,
" supposing ho can carry it across a running stream." At
Edenhall, in Cumberland, a butler, whilst drawing water at
a well, was very much surprised at seeing some of these
little l)eings amusing them.selves on the grass. They had
left their drinking-glass upon the margin of the well, .and
he ran away with it. though hotly pursued by the fairies.
Finally he outran them, and they vanished crying : —

If that glass do break or fall.
Farewell the luck of Edenhall.t

Oberon, king of Fairyland, and his wife Titania, held
many a moonlight revel in days of yore. On one occasion
the tiny royal pair had a dispute, but Oberon called his son
Puck to his assistance, and peace was soon restored in
Fairyland. Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, was a domestic
sprite, like the Scandinavian nisse and the Scotch brownie.
He was famous for his merry pranks, so much so that his
father threatened to punish him, and the little imp ran away
from home. He wandered through the woods, and pre-
sently feeling tired, he lay down on the ground and fell
asleep. When he awoke he found a scroll lying on the
ground. It had been placed there by his father (_)beron,
and contained verses written in letters of gold, telling him
that he could have all he desired,^ and the power of changing

* [The word roundelay signifies a round dance as well as a song
in which the first strain is repeated. The English spelling alters
the true word rondeUt, so as to suggest the idea that a lay or song
is necessarily signified, — Ed.]

f This very ne.arly happened, for one day the Duke of Wharton,
liaving- taken a drink out of the magic glass, carelessly let it fall,
but the butler caught it in his napkin.

X The earliest recorded instance of agony advertising : " If Puck
will return to his distressed family all will be forgiven and he shall
do as he pleases."

July 2, 1888.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

203

himself into any shape, but he was not to harm the needy
nor the honest, but rather to help them. Robin often took
advantage of his power, and delighted in playing tricks.
One da_v he went to a wedding as a fiddler, and caused
quite a commotion during the evening by putting out the
lights. All being in darkness, " hee strucke the men goode
boxes on the eares." Each thought it was the other, and
they began fighting, at which the naughty elf did laugh
right merrily. The women also began to scratch each other
like so many wild cats, and it was some time before peace
was restored. At supper-time Robin once more disgi-aced
himself by turning himself into a bear, and fi-ightening all
the people away. Being both hungry and greedy, he ate
all the supper provided for the evening. Sometimes he
was very good-natured, and would help the maids with their
work — that is, if they left out some cream for him at night.
In West Cornwall, among the coal mines, there are
harmless little elfish beings called Pixies, Spriggans, and
Knockers. The latter are supposed to be the souls of the
Jews who crucified Christ, and were sent by the Romans to
work as slaves in the tin mines. They haunt the richest
mines, and the miners have heard them knocking and
singing underground, which is a sure sign of good luck.
These little beings are very ugly, and apt to be spiteful.
One day a man named Tom Trevorrow heard the
Knockers just before him whilst he was working under-
ground, and he roughly told them " to be quiet and go,"
upon which a shower of stones fell suddenly around him.
Not only did thLs give him a dreadful fright, but from that
day he had such bad luck that he had to leave the mine.

The Piskies are said to be half-witted people who have
died, when they were not good enough to go to heaven.
They go about in parties, and delight in mischief. On
gloomy nights they lead people a sad dance, over hedge and
ditch, led by

Jack o' the lantern I Joan the wad,
Who tickled the maid and made her mad.

One night a Polperro lad was returning home across the
fields, when he heard a chorus of squeaking voicessaying, "I'm
for Portallow Green," and in a moment he was surrounded by
a throng of laughing piskies. He followed them, until they
cried, " I'm for the King of France's cellar." He suddenly
found himself in a large cellar, and joined his mysterious
companions in ta.sting the richest wines. They strolled
through the palace, and the lad " could not resist the
temptation of pocketing one of the rich silver goblets from
the table in the dining-hall. This all took place in five
minutes. Then a signal was given, and in a moment he
was whisked home with the silver goblet, to prove the
truth of his tale.

Not long ago a woman of Mousehole (a village near
Penzance) saw [or said she saw] troops of small people, not
more than a foot and a half high. T'hey woidd come out of
a hole in the cliif on moonlight nights, but would scamper
back again if anyone came near them. Mothers often told
their children that if they went under cliffs by night, the
small people would carry them to " Dicky Danjy's Hole."
These little beings will thresh the farmer's corn, and do the
servants' work for them at night. But should anyone
notice them, or try to reward them for their services, they
leave the house for ever, saying* —

Pisky fine, Pisky gay,
Pisky now will fly away !

The same occurs among the Irish fairie.s; and Shirley
Hibberd relates an amusing story told by an Irish servant
from Galway. Her father was a blacksmith, who had won

• Folk-Lore Journal, vol. v., part iii., p. 185.

the goodwill of the fairies by helping benighted travellers.
If he left any work in his smithy overnight they would
finish it for hira. The family were often aroused by hearing
" vigorous puffing with the bellows, and hammering on an
anvil"; but the fairies always replaced the tools they had
used in the night, and left the smithy in perfect order. If
the fairies were disturbed in their work there was trouble.
One evening the blacksmith went to the smithy for some
medicine he had left on a shelf. The good people had just
begun their work, but liis entrance put them to flight. As
a result a series of misfortunes took place. The following
day " a black pig died, little Tike took the measles, and for
several nights the people in the house were kept awake by a
noise like peas and pebbles being thrown at the window." *
These fairies dwell in rocks, and are so small and dainty
" that a dewdrop trembles beneath their light weight." In
the fairy legends of the South of Ireland, Crofton Croker
tells us that " they are only a few inches high, and almost
transparent."

The Banshee watches over a particular family ; the
Cluricane is an evil elf who takes the form of an old man,
and knows where to find hidden treasures ; and the Phooka
is a diabolical spirit who sometimes appears as an eagle or a
black horse, and hurries any one he gets hold of to
destruction.

Fairies that are only seen on moonlight nights are
laughter-loving mischievous sprites. A story is told about
a caipenter, called Davy Hanlan, who declared that he
came across some of these beings. He was on his way
home, and, worn out with the day's work, he rested on a
bridge. The moon had risen, and the hills and valleys were
bathed in a silvery haze. The lights and shadows were so
exquisitely blended that it appeared " to be the work of an
enchanter's wand." Suddenly Davy heard voices, and " saw
a group of dwarfish beings emerging from the gloom, and
coming rapidly towards him, along the green mareh that
borders Maudlin stream." As they approached the Ijridge
they cried out, " Where is my horse? Give me my horse."
In the twinkling of an eye they were all mounted. Davy
also said " Give me my horse," and he found himself astride
a piece of wood. Gliding smoothly through the air, tiie
whole party arrived in a large city just as the bells had tolled
the " magic hour of midnight." They went from house to
house, ti7ing all the doors until they came to one which
had a large wine-cellar. The door had been left open, so
they did not hesitate to enter and make themselves perfectly
at home. They had a merry time : wine-bottles were
broken, bungs flew out, and the walls re-echoed their peals
of laughter. Davy looked on in wonder, and, thinking that
he might as well take his share in the fun, he asked a rather
agreeable fairy if he could not have some wine, as he was
very thirsty. " When I shall have done," said the fairy,
" I will give you this goblet, and you can drink." She had
scarcely handed it to him, when the leader gave the word
of command : —

Away, away, my good fairies away !

Let's revel in moonlight and shun the dull day.

They all mounted their horses, and, in the twinkling of an
eye, Davy found himself on the bridge again, with the
silver goblet in his hand.f Tory Island, Donegal, is a
favourite haunt of the good people, " and no Toryite will
go out alone after dark. Till lately there lived at Killult a
woman who used to be carried off by the fairies. One dark
night, when they were ont looking for her with torches,
Owen Kelly of Molin rescued her : she was in the gra-sp of

* Notes and Queries for 1852, vol. vi.

t Notes and Queries for 1853, vol. vii., p. 6i.

204

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

a little man with a red cap, who disappeared as he came
up." *

The fairies also steal little babies, leaving ugl}', deformed
changelings in their place. This practice is referred to by
Chaucer, Drayton, Shakespeare, and Hogg. The latter
wrote the ballad of Kilmey, about a little girl who was
spirited away to Fairyland, and never seen again. The
fairies in Scotland have the same uncanny trick. The
ballad of Tamlane relates the adventures of a little bov
who had been stolen by the fairies, but was
The capture took place in Selkirk in the II .. ..,_y.

It was Hallowe'en, a time when all fair maidens are afraid
to venture out lest the fairies should capture them. A
lassie named Janet, the fairest of all her kin, was braver
than the rest. When night came slie walked to a well in
Cauterhaugh, where the fairies held their revels. Her
little sweetheart, Tamlane, had been stolen by the queen of
the fairies when Janet was a little girl, and she always hoped
to meet him again. When she arrived at the well she saw
a milk-white steed which she recognised as Tamlane's. She
waited patiently, plucking roses meanwhile : —

She haclna pu'd a reel, red rose,
A rose but barely three,
When up and starts a wee, wee man
At Lady Janet's knee.

This was Tamlane, who assured her of his constancy to her
during his long absence, and made a solemn vow to wed her,
but on certain conditions. She had to wait for him till
midnight at Miles Cross, for at that tiuie all the fairies
would pass by. She would know her sweetheart by his
milk-white steed and the gold star on his forehead. As he
passed by she had to clutch hold of him and hold him fast,
for he would be changed into a snake, a dove, and a swan,
though finally resuming his own shape.

Gloomy, gloomy, was the night, and eerie was the way.
As fair Janet in her green mantle, to Miles Cross did gae,

There's haly water in lier hand, slie cast a compass round ;
And straight she sees a fairy band, come riding o'er the mound.

All happened as Tamlane predicted, and Janet won him
for her own, to the great grief of the fairy queen and her
band, with whom he had become a great favourite.

The Scottish elves have the .same traits as the Irish, and
are divided into Cluricanes, Kelpies, Spunkies, Brownies,
and others. A great resort of the more fiendish among
these beings was Mucklestane Muir,t and rings are still
])ointed out " on which neither grass nor heath ever grow,
the turf being as it were calcined by the scorching hoofs of
the diabolical partners." The Brownie is a domestic sprite,
somewhat like the being mentioned in the charming ballad
of the Count of Kildare : —

lirown dwarf that o'er the moorland strays,

Thy name to Kildare tell 7
The brown man of the muirs who stays

Beneath the heather bell.

Gigantic Fossil Turtle.— The remains of a gigantic fossil
turtle have been discovered in the middle pliocene strata of Per-
pignan, and the creature has just been described by the di6tinj;uished
pal;eontologist, M. Gaudry, before the Paris Academy of Sciences.
The shield or carapace of the reptile was over four feet long, so
that it was equal in size to the Madagascar fossil turtles. M. Gaudry
considers that the survival of this great turtle down to the mid-
pliocene period (sliortly before the glacial epoch commenced in the
Northern Hemispliere) shows that the south of France must have
enjoyed a warm climate even then.

* FolJi Lure Journal, vol. v., part i., p. 68.
t Sir Walter Scott, " The Black Hwarf."

BACON'S OWN CIPHER.

HE Fall Mall GaxMe has done good service
in calling attention, in an article entitled
" The Mammoth Mare's Nest," to the way
in which Mr. Ignatius Donnelly has blun-
dered over Bacon's real cipher, while pre-
tending to have discovered, through his
exceptional profundity, a cipher which has
never had any existence. In the following passage that
paper gives a correct account of Bacon's well-known five-
letter cipher (which anticipated in principle the Moi-se
alphabet), and of Mr. Donnelly's foolish blundering over
it — which would discredit an intelligent ton-year-old school-
boy. It is to be noticed, however, that the examples of the use
of the cipher .are not really taken from the " De Augmentis,"
but from one of the translations — Bacon's Latin Alphabet
being altered into English (with W), and his direct quota-
tion from Cicero {Eyo omni officio ac potius pietate erga te,
kc.) being translated. But this, while indicating the quality
of Bacon's cipher in being able, as he said, to indicate
omnia per omnia, brings out in a very striking way Mr.
Donnelly's ignorance of Bacon's real work, and the stupidity
of his feelile attempt to puzzle out a perfectly plain problem
already fully and most lucidly solved by the writer whom
he pretends to expound. Nothing funnier, perhaps, has
ever been heard of in paradoxical literature than Mr.
Donnelly's shorn return from his wool-gathering expedition,
unless it be the splendidly big bull he has perpetrated in
striving to prove that Bacon most laboriously concealed
what he was most anxious to disclose. [Not even Bacon's
acumen could have foreseen the appearance in the world
of such a genius as Detractor Donnelly.]
Says the Pall Mall Gazette : —

In order to illustrate Bacon's familiarity with the principles of
secret writing, Mr. Donnelly gives an .account of the famous five-
letter cipher, quoting from the English translation of the " De
Augmentis." The key he gives quite correctly, and to make clear
his error we must reprint it : —

A — a a a a a ... B — a a a a b ... C — a a a b a

D— a a a b b ... K^a a b a a ... F — a a b a b

G— a a b b a ... H— a a b b b ... I & J--a b a a a

K— a b a a b ... L— a b a b a ... M— a b a b b

N— a b b a a ... O— a b b a b ... P— a b b b a

Q— a b b b b ... R— b a a a a ... S— b a a a b

T -b a a b a U & V— b a a b b ... W— b a b a a

X— b a b a b ... Y— b abba ... Z— b a b b b

The method (jf applying this is to choose two different alpliabets

(for example, Roman and italic) and then to construct [or rather to

employ, for no construction is needed] a sentence containing five

times as many letters as the message you wish to convey, writing

those wliich represent a in one alphabet and those which represent h

in the other. To quote the example given 'oy Bacon (convertetl into

English), suppose that tlio message to be conveyed consists of the

single word FLY. This is represented by the sentence, " Do not go

till I come," written thus :

'• D 0 » o f I g 0 t )" 1 I I \ c o x& I e."
a a 1) a b. | a b a b a. | b a b b a. I
F L Y

(The final c is superfluous.) All this Mr. Donnelly quotes from
IJacon, evidently without understanding it, for he fails to note that
the whole secrit of the thing lies in the tivo alphabets, distinguishing
the letters which represent a from those which represent b. He
piints the whole cipher-sentence in small capitals, and continues his
quotation thus : — " I add [says Bacon] another e.xample of the
same cipher — of the writing of anything by anything. The interior
epistle for which I have selected the Spartan despatch, formerly sent
in t\\G Seijtale : ' All is lost. Mindarus is killed. The soldiers want
food. We can neither get hence nor stay longer here.' (Perditre
res. Jlfindariis eeeidit. Mildcs esuriunt, netjne hinc nos cxtrieare,
neqne hie diutins manerc possiimus.) The exterior epistle taken
from Cicero's first letter, and containing the Spartan despatch
within it : —

•' In all duty, or rather piety, towards you I satisfy everybody

July 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

205

except myself. Myself I never satisfy. For so great are the ser-
vices which you have rendered me, that, seeing you did not rest in
your endeavours on my behalf till the thing was done, I feel as if
my life had lost all its sweetness, because I cannot do as much in
this cause of years. The occasions are these: Ammonias, the
king's ambassador, openly besieges us with money, the business IS
carried on through the same creditors who were employel in it
when you were here, ^tc."

Here Mr. Donnelly closes his quotation and comments as follows :
" I haie capitalised the words all and is, supposing them to be
part of the sentence,' All is lost,' but I am not sure that I am right
in doing so.* The sentence ends as above and leaves us in the
dark."

Truly Jlr. Donnelly is very much in the dark. To any one
reading the quotation from Bacon by the light of ordinary common-
sense, It is clear that the passage from Cicero's letter shonld be
printed in two alphabets ; and on referring to the original
(ed. 1857-58, vol. iv., p. Ho) we find that this is the case. It
happens that in this edition (and doubtless in that quoted by Mr.
Donnelly) the printers, instead of using Roman and italic founts,
have used two different founts of italics, so that the distinction
does not at once strike the unpractised eye. It becomes obvious
after a moment's examination, but this llr. Donnelly has not
bestowed upon it. The passage from Cicero reads thus in Bacon
(or rather is thus given by the careful translator) : — ' " In all duty
or rather piefy ioivarAs yo« / satisly everybody except my.'ielf.
My^self I nerer safis///. For so," kc, xc. Substitute a for the
Roman letters and h for the italics, divide into fives, and apply the
above key, and it will be at once clear that these 85 letters repre-
sent the 17 letters of "All is Lost. Mindarus." The reader, if he
pleases, can write out the rest of the passage for himself ; noting,
however, that Bacon, that is, his translator, spells " endeavours ''
with a " u " and that the " my " in " I feel as if my life " is inter-
polated by Mr. Donnelly.

If the rest of Mr. Donnelly's cryptographic inspirations are as
futile as the idea of "capitalising all and is,' Shakespeare's laurels
are pretty secure. Tlir jiian n-ho fails to understand Bacon's
crplanation of a perfectly iiinple cipher is scarcely the guide one
would clwose to follow through a labyrinthine cryptoi/ram. If ^Mr.
Donnelly can see through a millstone, he should surely be able to
see through a crystal; yet Bacon's perfectly lucid exposition leaves
him, confessedly, " in the dark.'' Unless his vision improves
miraculously as he goes on, we fear that the world's judgment of his
theory will be summed up in the word— but no; as a little exercise
for Mr. Donnelly we will put it in cipher, thus : —
C h T o n 0 n h o t 0 n t h 0 \ 0 y o s.f

AN UNDECIPHERABLE CIPHER.

By Eicii.vKD A. Proctor.

I;YPT0GE.\M3 being in fashion, I will
tlescribe :i cipher of my own invention —
possibly it may have been thought of bcfofe,
but not to my knowledge — which is, so far
as I can see, altogether undecipherable
without the key.

The correspondents first prepare a table,
whereof each retains a copy, containing
twenty cijther-keys, such as the following : —

17. MALIKPtESTUZ— 2324312412031
1 23i.5 67890 .
All, of course, are to be different, except that under the

* The fun of this is partly lost when the English version is
followed. By sheer accident the words capitalised by Mr.
Donnelly occur both in the long passage and in the real message.
In the Latin the words translated " I feel as if my life had lost all
its sweetness," run " Vitam mihi esse ace-rbam putem," and in the
extract from Cicero the first word(/'er(itte) of the message does not
occur at all.

t Even after reading the Gazette article, Mr. Donnelly wLU pro-
bably not see his way to the interpretation of this little cryptogram.
So, lest he should find some minor mare's nest in it to weary the
world with, we give the solution —

Chrora o n h o t ' ontho 1 o y o s

aaaab abbab , baaab jaabbb

BO s H

eleven letters there are always the numbers 1, 2, 3 ... 9, 0,
and a full stop. Suppose now a message to be forwarded
runs as follows — " I will start at seven on Friday morn-
ing." The successive words of this message contain
1, 4, 5, 2, 5, 2, 6, and 7 letters respectively. The letters in
the 17th key- word corresponding to these numbers are
respectively 5l, I, K, A, K, A, R, and E — which, there-
fore, followed by Z to indicate a full stop, must be given at
the beginning of the cipherme.ssage. The words of the
mes.sage are to be dealt with as follows by means of the key-
number 2324312412031. Take the word " morning "—for
m the first, letter write o the 2nd letter after in in the
alphabet, because 2 is the first digit in the key-number ;
for 0 the second letter write r, the 3rd following letter in
the alphabet, because 3 is the second digit in the key-
number; for r the third letter, write t, the 2nd letter
following r in the alphabet, because the third digit in the
key-number is 2 ; and so on, writing for n the 4th following
letter r; for i the 3rd following letter /; for /* the 1st fol-
low-ing letter o ; and for g the second following letter k,
because the 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th digits of the key-number
are respectively 4, 3, 1, and 2. Thus the word " morning "
becomes altered into ortrlok. AH the words of the message
are to be dealt with in this waj', which with a little prac-
tice becomes very easy, and all the cipher-words thus
obtained as well as the key-letters, mikakarez, are to be
written as one long word. The message then, thus dealt
with, appeai-s in the following form : —

1 7. /iiikakarezki/lnpu irevvjcwiihxkqqqhukhhzortrlok.
The interpretation is quite easy for the correspondent,
though absolutely out of reach of any into whose hands the
cryptogram may fall. He turns to the key-word and
number opposite 17 in his list, and noting that z is the
stop letter, recognises mikakare as meaning that the suc-
cessive words of the mes.sage contain 1, 4, 5, 2, 5, 2, 6, and
7 letters, so he divides up the letters following the first z as
follows — ■

k\ylnp\uii;cvir\cv\uJixkq\qq\ltukhhz\ortrlok.
He then applies to each of these cipher-words the key-
number, taking the alphabet backwards as many lettei-s
from k, y, n, I, p, iVc, as the several digits of that number
require. Thus k gives ;, the second letter before k in the
alphabet ; and we thus get the first word / of the message ;
the four letters of the next word must be set back in the
alphabet 2, 3, 2, 4 letters, giving for y the letter w; for I, i;
form, I; and for p, I; so that from the cipher- word ylnp,
we get the message-word will. Dealing in the .same way
with the other cipher- words, we get the full mess;ige— "I
will start at .seven on Friday morning."

I should like to hear of any way by which a cryptogram
on this plan could be puzzled out. Here is a cryptograiu
on this method, which the ingenious reader will find no
difficulty in reading, being first told that the 13th key-word
and key-number appear in the correspondents' lists as
follows : —

13. KNITZTHELOFY— 201534012320
1 234567890.
The cryptogram is —

13. uozzznztjneuninpihoidhgirphhrproosjvooosj.
I wrote this in 80 seconds.

The way to write a message quickly is to deal with it as
follows : — Suppose the message to be " We are prepared to
act," the 13th cipher- key, given above, being employed.
Write down the message thus : —

2 3 8 2 3

We are prepared to act.

20 201 20153401 20 201

Then write down 13 for the cipher-number, nulnuy, from

the key-word, using the numbei-s 23823 written above the

206

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

message, then say ^Bxy, writing down y ; c, writing down e ;
abc, writing down c ; r, writing down r ; ef, writing down/;
and so on, thus making the lomplete message : —

1 3. mdmiijijecrjrrfudi^efvoccu.
The reading is similarly managed and quite easy.

This cijiher is easy to write, easy to read, and cannot be
deciphered. It does not fulfil the fourth condition, which
Bacon notes as involved in certain cases. A message written
on this system openly proclaims itself a cipher. But so
does a message written on Bacon's system ; for though the
matter written be perfectly innocent and natural, the use of
two types at once suggests that there is more in the writing
than appears on the face of it.

SIMPLE MECHANICAL TRICKS.

(C on timied from page 179.)

N the following trick (or experiment) the law
involved is that the centre of gravity of a
body tends always to seek the lowest possible
position.

Provide two equal straight bai's of any con-
venient dimensions, a roller, shaped like an
oi'dinary rolling ruler, and another roller of
the form shown at R R' in fig. 5 — i.e., a double cone rather
elongated. Set the bars in the positions A B and A' B'
shown in fig. 5, the ends at A resting on the surface of a
table, while the ends B and B', thrown pretty far aj)art, are

raised to such a height above the end A as to give a slight
slant (two or three inches, say, in a foot) to the bars. Then
set the straight roller on the slanted bars, and show that it
will at once roll down to A and thence on to and upon the
table — a movement which will by no means surpri.se the
observers. Then take the double-cone roller, and making
some remarks about modifying the action of gravity, s-et
this roller on the inclined bars as in the position RR'. To
the surprise of the observers, or at least of a considerable
proportion of them, the roller instead of travelling down to
A will seem to climb up the inclined rails, passing to B B'
and thence to the table.

You may then take up the rods and the rollers, while
the spectators express their opinicjns upon what they have
seen. After a while remark that the roller evidently
climbed up the slope, out of contradiction, perhaps because
the slope was too steep ! Diminish the slope by taking a
book from each side and set the bars again sloping from the
lowered book-heaps, but taking care to set the bars this
time parallel to each other, the ends A and A' being set as
far apart as the ends B and B'. Roll the straight ruler
down as before, and then set the other across the bars.
Those among the audience who had not been able to under-
stand the rolling of R R' from A A' towards B B' before,
will see no reason why it should not roll that way as in the
former experiment. But instead of this it will now roll
towards A A' just as freely as the straight roller had done.

The reason of these diflerent movements should be
obvious. When the rods are set in the position shown in
the figure, the roller R R' is really descending in moving
toward B B' ; for as it passes to the parts of the rods farthest

apart it is supported on parts of its own surface, drawing
nearer to the points of the cones, and is more lowered by
this change than it would be raised, were it an ordinary
straight roller, by the slight slant of the rods B A and
B'A'.

A pretty modification of this experiment may be obtained
by preparing a descent beyond B B' precisely matching the
ascent from A A' to B B'^the junction of the rods A B
and A' B' at B and B' with the descending rods from B and
B' to an apex like A on the further side, being close and
neat. For whereas a straight roller set on either slope
would pass downwards or away from B B', the double cone
roller will run up (apparently) to B B', and then, after
travelling a certain distance (the mere effect of inertia) on
what looks like the downward slope, will come to rest, and,
changing the direction of its motion, will pass back again
over the seeming ridge line at B B'. The double cone roller
will thus pass backward and forward over the top of the
system of slanted rods, in apparent defiance of gravity. But
in reality its centre of gravity is oscillating on either side of
its lowest position.

An experiment depending on a kindred principle is
illustrated in figure 6. Each represents in section : fir.st,
two stout plane boards, A B and A' B', hinged (or otherwise
connected) at the ends A A' ; secondly, two friction-rollers

Fig. C.

R and R', easing the sliding of the flat board D D' in one
ease, and of the wedge-shaped block C C" in the other. In
the case illusf rated in fig. G, pressing the boards A B and
A' B' toward each other forces out the board D D' in
the direction shown by the arrow ; but in the case illustrated
in fig. 7, instead of the wedge C C being forced outwards
by such pressure, it is forced inwards, as the arrow indicates,
if the angle of the wedge is greater than the angle between
the pressure-boards. It is easy to see the reason of this.
In both cases the boards A B and A' B' yield to the pressure,
li and B', approaching ; but whereas in one case the motion
of D D' outwards makes room for this approach, in the other
the motion of C C" outwards would bring a thicker part of
the wedge between the rollers, and A B, A' B' would be
forced more apart by this than they would be drawn together
by the mere motion of the rollers outwards.

Mechanical tricks depending on inertia are often very
surprising to the uninitiated. They are also very instructive.
It occurs to me to notice that I was once victimised most
unpleasantly by a mechanical trick of this sort played upon
me by chance, not by any practical joker. I was running
along a railway platfoim carrying >a heavy valise in one
hand, and a rather cumbersome but not heavy weight in
the other. My foot caught against some projection in the

July

1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

207

floor ; but had I been running unweighted the accident
■would not have mattered in the least ; in a step or two I
should have recovered myself. Being loaded, however, and
with weights I did notcai-eto dropsuddenly, the case was dif-
ferent. The inertia I had to deal with was greater, by perhaps
150 pounds, than my own. Forgetting this, and holding on
to my baggage, I staggered along some twelve or fifteen
paces and should have come to the ground then, had I not
let my baggage go — somewhat to its detriment. It was a
striking lesson in the laws of inertia.

A pretty illustration of inertia may be presented as fol-
lows : — Set up twenty di-aughtsmen, of the flat-faced sort,
into a vertical column. Now hold a long paper-knife with
one end of its horizontal face opposite the middle of one of
the lowest of these flat discs, the right hand exerting a
strong pressure such as would cause the knife to strike that
draughtsman did not the left hand resist the pressure. Sud-
denly release the paper-knife so that the action of the right
hand sends its end sharply against the draughtsman,
striking it horizontally out of the pile. It will fly cleanly
out, if the stroke is deftly delivered, and the rest of the
column will remain upright, lowered only by one draughts-
man's height.

Drawing a strip of paper horizontally from under a heavy
coin standing on its edge, so shai-ply and neatly that the
coin is left standing, is another pretty illustration of inertia.
A crown will serve for this experiment, but the old two-
penny copper piece was better.

I rather hesitate to mention that a table napkin spread on
a small table as a cloth for one man's dinner can be drawn
from under that dinner so deftly as to leave everything
standing. For this experiment requires skill, and skill
requires practice. Practising on portions of a dinner-service
is apt to be expensive.

The way in which what seems a tremendous blow
with a hammer can be neutralised by what seems a crushing
weight is worth noticing. A man lies flat on his back and
a well-filled wooden trunk or some similar weight is placed
on what we conventionally agree to call his stomach. Now
let a confederate seize a mallet and strike a heavy blow on
the top of the trunk, a blow which delivered directly on the
stomach would be fatal. The blow does no harm whatever,
its force being taken up in giving a very slow and slight
downward motion to the hetivy weight.

A needle can be driven through a sixpence or even a
shilling, if the coin is set upon a broad cork and the needle
is passed into a cork set on the coin. For the needle receives
the whole force of the blow along its length, and cannot
break because of the side pressures produced by the cork.

A curious efiFect is produced if one breathes through a
cone-shaped blower at a small banner hanging in front of

the open end. The banner waves toward the blower's
mouth, not from it. If the blower be reversed so that the
breath is blown in at the larger end (which, of course, must
not be too large) the usual effect of blowing will take place ;
but La the former experiment currents of air arise, which

curling outward from the rim of the larger end of the
blower, cause a rarefaction of the air there, so that an in-
draught carrying the banner toward the blower is produced.

In like manner may be explained the fact that blowing
upwards through a pipe as A B, figure 7, opening out on a
flat horizontal surface, as C D, a light piece of c;xrd situate
as pp (kept in any convenient way at a certain distance
from the orifice of the pipe) cannot be blown off, no matter
how strongly the blower may force his breath through the
pipe. The air blown in passes out in the direction shown
by the arrows (,' and D, and curving round above pp'
presses the card downwards as strongly as it is pressed
upwards by such portion of the Ijreath as reaches the under
side.

The breath may be used to blow up a book — not after
the Saturday Iltvieirs fashion, but fairlj'. Place a heavy
book on a paper bag, like an ordinary flour bag, leaving the
mouth of the bag projecting from under the book. Then
blow steadily into the bag, the book will rise as the bag
swells.

EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE.

By Ada 8. Ballin.

xr.
1 1 E Chinese language bears traces of its great
antiquity in the strong evidences of phonetic
decay shown by the fact of the variety of
meanings rendered by one sound. There
ai'e over 40,000 distinct words, or more
properly speakinjr, characters, in Chinese,
though barely 10,000 are generally used in
the various branches of literature, and not
more than 3,000, perhaps, in ordinary conversation. But
to pi'onounce these iO,000 characters there are something
U7idey 500 sounds, putting the tones aside ; and while there
are a few sounds whose distribution, so to spe;\k, among the
characters is comparatively limited, there are others which
are so widely diffused as to fill us with astonishment. For
example, as Blr. Fred. H. Balfour writes to me, "• I once had
the curiosity to search through K'ang Hsi's Dictionary for
all the characters pronounced like the fifth letter of our
English alphabet. I counted considerably over seven hun-
dred, and my teacher, a Pekingese, informed me that by
going further afield, the list might be made up to a thou-
sand." I'seu has sixty ; le, eighty ; chui, a hundred ; ke,
one hundred and eighty ; and e no less than two hundred and
sixty-five different symbols attached to the one sound, and
there are not only hundreds of totally distinct characters with
only one monosyllabic sound among them, but one of those
characters often has a large variety of totally distinct mean-
ings. I subjoin a few examples, culled from Williams's
Syllabic Dictionary.

^ Lwan. To bring into good order; a state of order;
to confuse, to throw into disorder; to mislay: discord, con-
fusion; insurrection, anarchy; out of place, disarranged;
tumultuous ; ravelled : to ferry over ; the end of a song.

^ Foh. Plants extended ; trees appearing singly, no
brushwood ; gi'assy ; thin ; attenuated ; subtle ; a thin leaf
or plate; a pellicle; poor, unfortunate; economical; light,
few ; to diminish ; to slight, to treat coldly ; suspicious of ;
to approach; an initial particle, ah, so; to reach or extend
over ; careless, inattentive to, anyhow ; trifling ; a curtain
or screen.

•^ Tzii. Anciently a child, but now confined to a son ;
a boy, a lad ; a person ; the people, in distinction from the
prince; a sage, a teacher, a venerable and worthy man,

208

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

especially Confucius ; to act in a filial manner as a son ; to
treat as a son ; an beir, issue, posterity ; a seed, a kernel ; a
term of respect, you, sir ; or more familiarly a comrade ; an
officer ; a viscount ; the first of the Twelve Stems, relating
to water and denoted by the lat ; applied to the eleventh
moon, and to the third watch from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. ; north,
on the compass card ; a spot ; subordinate ; itc, &c., itc.

•^ Tang. What is suitable, opportune, convenient, or
just; adequate to, competent; to bear, to take the responsi-
bility ; to act as, to be ; equal to, to match ; to make ; to
stand in contra.st ; to meet or occur : at the time of, when —
in which sense it is often a form of the present participle ;
used as a particle, as, then, or throwing the sentence into
the future tense ; to decide, to manage, to mete out ; to
withstand, to bear against ; to screen ; to pawn or pledge ;
to consider as, reputed or looked upon as ; to serve an end ;
instead of, as, for ; to suit with ; suitable, favourable ; to
deceive, to swindle; basis, foundation.

^ when read Kih, means to respect; to beat; when
read Yoh, it means a bright, pleasing sight, as a fine land-
scape.

One would naturally think that this strange phenomenon
would cause great difficulties in conversation ; but these are
partially obviated by the introduction of the system of
tones, of which there are four in the Peking Mandarin
dialect, and five in the Nanking IMandarin dialect ; partially
by the context in which such words are placed, and
partially by the fact that although Chine.se is monosyllabic,
a large proportion of the parts of speech are formed of two
characters joined, or in apposition, of which each supple-
ments and explains the other, the sound presenting a dis-
tinct dissyllable. As Sir Thomas Wade says : " Just as in
English, if it be necessary to particularise whether by a
certain sound we mean wright, write, right, or rite, we
make our meaning clear by a co'ntext which shows whether
the syllable uttered is that in shipwright, to write letters,
right and left, or rite of baptism, so a Chinese will explain
that the ai he is speaking of is the ai in ai-ch'iu, to im-
plore, in ch'cn-ai, dust, in k((o-ai, tall and short, or in
ai-fmi, to love ; but homophony being, in his language, as
much the rule as in ours it is the exception, he is very
constantly obliged to fall back on this expedient." In
writing this difliculty of course does not occur, the context
being clear.

The Chinese affirm that in high antiquity they used
knotted cords instead of letters to constitute the signs of
ideas, and convey the commands of their rulers. This
means of communication was afterwards succeeded by
symbols, from which the present system of writing was
derived. Chinese historians attribute the invention of this
system to Tsang-hee, who lived in the reign of Hwang-te,
more than two thousand years before the Christian era,
who from observing a constellation in the heavens, the
marks on the shell of a tortoise, and the print of a horse's
hoof on the ground, conceived the idea of such a method of
communication thiough the eye, in fact a system of ideo-
giaphy.

The idea that the development of the present system was
artificial, as suggested in the above legend, cannot be
seriously entertained, it was doubtless gradually and
naturally evolved from the primitive picture-writing under
the law of conservation of energy, by which a single line in
time comes to do service for a whole figure. Modern
researches endorse the opinion of PavVshi, a Chinese scholar
who lived about 1100 B.C., and who stated in his work that
the gi-eater part of the Chinese characters were originally
hieroglyphic ; but gradually changed for the sake of appear-
ance and convenience.

The ultimate scheme is reducible to a few simple prin-

ciples : — 1. Resemblance of the figure to the object signified ;
as a circle for sun, a crescent for moon and the like.
2. Reference to some property or circumstance. 3. Com-
bination of thoughts as truth, a combination of the signs for
man and irord. 4. Contraries are expressed by reversing
or inverting the character, and so on.

A symbol representing two men with their backs towards
each other, pronounced pili, signifies perver.se, to turn away
from, retreat, and in the modern language "the north,"
i.e. the back of the world. A combination of the words for
"human hair" and "changing" means old. A certain
character is doubled to mean " to follow," and tripled to
represent " many."

The whole of the Chinese language is arranged in the
dictionaries under 214 roots, or radical .and original
characters, which enter into the composition and influence
the meaning of every word in the langu.age, which are
arranged as follows by Sir J. F. Davis.*

Classes. Classes.

Human kind and its Objects in early ai-t . 41

relations . .14 Numbers ... 5

Mammalia . . S Actions (verbs) . . .37

Other animals . . 7 Qualities (adjectives) .30

Vegetables . .13 Undefined. . . 1

Minerals ... 5

Parts of animals . 28 i 214
Other objects in nature 25

Analysing a dictionai-y containing about 11,GG0 words,
the above-named author compiled a series of most interest-
ing table.s, showing the total number of compound woi-ds
into which each root enters, from which tables it may be
seen that one word may give rise to some hundreds, for
example, the word meaning " to walk swiftly " enters into
145 compounds, "to speak, express," into 373, "wheel,
carriage," into 127, " garment " into 184, and so on, the
seven most prolific roots comprehending between them no
less than 3,385 words, classed as follows : —

Compound. | Compound.

Man . . . 47S I Tree, wood . . 493
Mouth . . 437 Grass, herbs . 470

Heart. . . 4G7 And water . . 548

Hand. . . 492

The word " man " combined with " one " means alone,
deserted ; with " hundred " it signifies centurion, with
"field," husbandman; with "village," rustic; with
"emperor," noble, elevated; with "justice," right, correct,
and so on. The character meaning Sin, " the heart," which
is regarded among the Chinese as the seat of the affections,
emotions and intellect, combined with hea, " downwards,"
means downhearted, with taou, " a knife," grieved ; with urh,
" the ear," it forms che, conscience, a sense of shame, &c. Under
the radical che, " hog," is classed seang, " an elephant,"
under new, " an ox," se, " a rhinoceros," under the root
for "dog" come wolf, fox, ape, and lion. The roots thus
serve as the generic beads of the words into the composition
of which they enter.

Tlie process of the development of abstract from concrete
words, which may be compared to that of the conventional
sign from the primitive picture, can be more clearly traced
in Chinese than in any other language, although in all it can
be shown to have gone on the same lines.

Thus, dr, infant, used also as "little"; in diminutives
sill, a character composed of those meaning heart and blood,
signifies " pity " ; i/e (roof, man, dark) " night " ; the ancient
character for gdn, " peace," " tranquillity," represented a
woman under a roof — sitting quiet at home. Doctrine is

* See " Chinese Miscellanies," pp. 78-82.

July 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGK

209

ruk-rcason, trade=buy, sell ; joking=laugli, talk ; dia-
logue=nsk, answer; duty=own part; fa, "a father."

We also find a large number of absti-act ideas expressed
by the combination or apposition of more than two words.
Thus our idea of creation is translated by " open- heaven,
split-earth " ; conduct is rendei-ed by the words for " speak,
act, move, rest," or " words, ways, deeds." " The five lakes
and the four seas " is their equivalent for " the world."
" Food + cups" equals "feast"; " look + wait" means to
visit friends. The figure for hon, hun, " cold," is made up
of a man under a roof among grass, and over ice.

I have dwelt at such considerable length on the structure
of the Chinese language because of the strong light it throws
on (he ]M-ocesses of the evolution of language in general ;
for, although the outer features of human languages, as
of human faces, may difler, their physiological structure
is on the same general principles, and I may be permitted,
■while expressing the conviction that in Chinese, as in
other languages, the majority of imitative, or so-called
onomatopoetic words have become unrecognisable b}- the
process of phonetic decay, to strengthen my position by the
quotation of a f3w imitative words now in use, which I have
taken somewhat at random, and without making any par-
ticular search for them. In my article on " Demonstrative
and Pronominal Roots " I gave some instances of natural
and imitative sounds in Chinese. Summers, in his '■ Hand-
book of the Chinese I^anguage," says : " Besides the ordinary
interjections of surprise, admiration, &c., there are in the
Chinese colloquial stvie a great number of expressions in
imitation of the various sounds heard in nature (onomato-
pieia), as the falling of water, jin[ilin<i of crockery, bursts of
liiughtir, &o." — such is fanfqn j'tng-jdn/j, to express the
noise of business in a market-place (p. 95). Among many
others I may select as examples kiav.-lciau, " the crowing
of a cock"; siau-siau, "the noise of wind and rain." To
which examples I may add the following : ting signifies
"nail"; ki'ing, "a. bow"; ko, "fire"; shvnii, "water";
kin, " metal " ; ski, " an arrow," with a different character,
" an omen from heaven " ; pi, " the nose " ; ping is ice ;
p'tik, p'u, to hit with the hand ; kom, kiln, to dare ; hdu,
k'Ctu, breath, obstructed effort — as of speech ; hn, lulu, to
cry out ; ch'ui, to blow; kilt, cliiieli, to hiccough; ki, chi,
choked ; ?»(7w, the low of an ox. The sign meaning fiiii,
a bird flying upwards and not coming down again, is also
I'ead piit, pu, not. T'<1u or p'Hu is to reject with scorn and
spitting ; Hn, tin, to flow; ts'au, hsiu, to swim; fo, hwo,
tire ; ch'i, the teeth.

INK VEUsrs WRITING FLUID.

HOUGH the old-fashioned gallic ink had its
faults, it w-as altogether superior to the
"fluid writing ink" now in such common
use. I know of no ink ever invented more
undesirable than this last. It has great
fluidity, be it gr.mted, and this is doubtless
a desirable quality. It also illustrates
admirably several chemical pi-inciples, but they are not such
as we desire to see illustrated when writing.

For example, it corrodes the metallic pen we are using ;
but it is not ])leasant when, perhaps after long searching,
one has found a pen which writes with absolute smoothness
and neatness, to have that pen presently spoiled, even though
the process bv which the metal of the pen enters into
chemical combination with the .acid of the ink be scientifi-
ally interesting. (I am myself, like most rapid writers,
rather hard to please in the matter of pens.)

Again, the fluid ink writes light though the writing pre-
sently turns dark, owing to a chemical change of consider-
able interest ; but every literary man likes his writing to be
dark from the start. An even worse fault of the truly
hateful compound called writing fluid is that if you pause
to think (a process considered occasionally allowable even
among literary men, but which the inventor of the fluid
evidently failed to take into account), the chemical process
by which your pen is being destroyed takes place so eflec-
tively as to transform the green fluid into a sickly yellow,
which does not turn black after writing. You are obliged
to take a fresh supply of the fluid on your nib, if you would
not have several words of your writing of the colour which
oar Iiish friends poetically term " dunducketty mud colour."
(To be scientifically accurate you ought to dry the pen before
taking this fresh supply.)

Yet again, the fluid ink is so undesirably fluid that
manuscript written with it is bound to be plentifully
smeai-ed ; for the ink is ready to smear long after any
reasonable ink would be dry.

The fluid ink seems to have been invented solely in the
interests of the makers of steel pens ; for while, in the first
place, it cannot be used with quill pens, since the chemical
changes on which its ultimate blackness depends require the
iron of the pen, it so rapidly destroys steel pens that one
must use at least three times as many as one would require
with good ink.

The old-fashioned ink could be used to produce the best
dead black coloiu- known to me. (The discovery is original
with me, so far as I know.) You take black French chalk —
the usual crayon chalk — and score over with it the surface
you wish to blacken, paying no special attention to uniform-
ity, and leaving all the chalk dust on the sheet. Then with
a brushful of the old-fashioned gallic ink (or you may use a
feather) you go over the surftice thus roughlj- blackened,
and forthwith find that a beautiful!}' uniform black is pro-
duced, which on drying is a fit surface for drawing on with
coloured or white chalk. It is especially desirable for pic-
tures of nebula>, comets, and other such objects.

It is essential when ink is used for written records, if
such records are to be safe, that the ink should resist all
such chemical processes as reverse the changes considered
above, turning coloured into colourless matter. It is well
known that the old-fashioned ink yields to several chemical
agents. If advantage were only taken of this to remove
ink-stains where ink-stains are not desirable, this would be
a gain rather than a defect. But records of various kinds
may be treated with chemicals till the ink disappears, with
results altogether undesirable. A solution of oxalic acid, or
of hydrochloric acid, will act as an effectual bleacher in the
case of all ordinary inks, the acid of the solution entering
into combination with the metallic colouring material of the
ink, leaving one colourless liquid and producing another. If
the ink-marks thus removed be records relating to pro|ierty,
signatures to deeds, the filling-in of cheques or the like, the
results of such chemical experiments are by no means such
that the persons chiefly interested in them can regard them
as pleasing. They will, however, continue to be performed
until or unless the inks used for such purposes be absolutely
indelible.

Now, it will probably have been noticed by many that
the printed matter is not affected at all by the agents which
remove ink-stains. The reason of course is that the ink
u,sed by printers owes its blackness to lampblack, which is
almost pure carbon, carbon being of all elements the one
which most stubbornly resists the attacks of the agents
usually most effective in producing chemical change. Wo
recognise here the true principles on which ink for written
records should bo prepared. The base should be carbon-

210

♦ KNOWLKDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

aceous, such other substances only being combined with the
carbon as will give it a hold on the paper, without which of
course the ink might be simph' washed off. This hold on
the paper should be such in some cases (as for cheapness,
&c.) that the written matter cannot be removed by any
mechanical means without destroying the paper itself. I
find that among the Kosmian inks the requirements of in-
delibility and suitable hold on the paper to prevent
mechanical removal are admirably provided for, and, from
experiments 1 have made on this ink, I infer that it is
essentially a carbon ink.

SIR WM. HERSCHEL'S SURVEYS OF THE
HEAVENS.

UltIN(T the interesting discussions respecting
the temporary star in the Andromeda
nebula, the misapprehensions which ]n-e-
vail in regard to the magnificent work
of the Herschels, and especially of the
elder Herschel, were very prominent.
Darwui has been wildly and widely mis-
understood ; insomuch that most men imagine his theory
(and Wallace's) merely another form of Lamarck's, that he
believed in evolution towards perfection, that according to
him each race has descended from a jaair of its own kind,
and that he regarded apes closely resembling some now
existent anthropoids as the ancestors of the human race.
And those who thus misunderstood Darwiir are hard to con-
vince : they will not believe, when science assures them that
Darwin's theory was accepted by men who had utterly
rejected Lamarck's, that he recognised evolution as often
tending to deterioration rather than to improvement, that
the descent of any race from a pair is absurdly inconsistent
witli the doctrine of natural selection, and lastly, that, as
regards the period when man and the present anthropoid
apes diverged, the Darwinian theory would indicate ancestors
at least as like man as like any existent ape, and probably
much more like — for the simple reason that man has
descended directly from that ancestry, while the existent
anthropoids have shared descent from it with descent from
contemporaries of lower race. But, preposterous as have
been the mistakes made about Darwin's doctrines, they can
hardly be compared with those into which even many men
of science and astronomers have fallen respecting the Labours
of Sir William Herschel. He was an observer of the
heavens for more than forty years, during all which time
his active mind was busily engaged applying various methods
of iuquu-y, inventing new ones, and testing old ones ; yet
many seem to imagine that at the end of his long series of
labours he stood in the precise position which he had occu-
pied at the beginning. They quote an opinion expressed during
the last ten years of his work, and an idea suggested thirty
years before, "in one and the same chapter, nay, in the same
paragraph, and even in the same sentence. Or, which is
not less incorrect, though not so obviously absurd, they
point to a result which he had obtained from one series of
observations and had interpreted on one paiticular prin-
ciple, as establishing such and such a conclusion when inter-
preted on another assumption — this assumption having been
adopted indeed by Herschel at one part of his labours, but
long given up when he had adopted the principle by which
he had explained that result.

It is not commonly known, even though on this point the
whole value of Herschel's labours in reality depends, that
he employed two entirely different methods for gauging the
star depths. One would imagine that they must have been

so similar as to be easily confounded together, seeing that
(except the present writer) only one student of astronomy,
the late W. Struve, has ever insisted on the distinction
between them. Even W. Struve, in his justly celebrated
(but little read) " Etudes d'Astronomie Stellaire," failed to
notice how inadecpiately Herschel had been able to test the
second method, his career as an observer having come to a
close le.-is than four years after he had devised it. In reality,
however, these methods, which Arago, Humboldt, and other
men of note, as well as hundreds of the mere astronomical
compilers, have confounded together, presented the following
points of rather strong contrast : — •

Herschel's first gauging method depended on turning
one powerful telescope to different parts of the stellar
heavens in succession ; his second method depended on
turning many telescopes (ranging in power from his smallest
to his largest) successively to one and the same star-group-
ings. The first depended on the assumed power of penetra-
ting in all directions to the outermost limits of the galaxy ;
the other depended on the observed fact that in many direc-
tions the galaxy is unfathomable. In applying the first
method Herschel counted the number of stars in each field
of view, and judged the depth of the sj'stem to be propor-
tional to the number so counted ; in applying the other he
did not count the stai-s at all, but noticed only how much of
each field was cleared by the space- delving power of each of
the telescopes successively employed. (One may say that in
one method he counted stars, in the other he counted tele-
scopes.) The former method depended on the assumption
that the wealth of stars in the Blilky Way resulted from the
enormous length of the range of view through regions
occupied by stars uniformly strewn ; the second had been
devised because, in his own words, he had " found after a long
inspection and examination that the stars in the Milky Way
are arranged very diflerentlj' from those in our neighbour-
hood." Lastly, the first method was subjected to more than
thirty years' testing before its fundamental assumption was
thus recognised as erroneous ; the second method was tried
only for about three years, and the i-esults accumulated
during that time were never employed to test the validity of
the primary assumption, but presented only as indicating
such and such conclusions (/' the initial assumption were
trustworthy.

That two methods so utterly unlike, nay, so opposite, in
plan, purpose, and principle, requiring such different
methods of observation, and so ditierent in their history,
should have been confounded together, would be amazing
were it not that men are so much readier to accept plain
statements as to facts than to analyse either preliminary
explanations or subsequent reflections. If Herschel, inter-
preting his earlier gauges by his first assumption, said that
the galaxy extends ten times farther towards the Milky Way
than towards the regions with black background — there is a
simple fact to be quoted ; let it be entered in our note-book.
If he found, interjjreting his later gauges on his second
assumption, that the JMilky Way is in many places un-
fathomable— that is not only a simple but an impressive
statement ; by all means put that down too. It may not
seem consistent with the former ; but both statements were
made by Herschel ; both appear (with only a trifling
interval of thirty years or so between them) in the " Pro-
ceedings of the Royal Society " ; there can be no objection
to their being used in the same paragraph, or even the same
sentence. Herschel could not analyse the ontei'most parts
of our galaxy, therefore they are hundreds of years' light-
journey away ; it would be a pity to omit that. And he
considered the nebula in Andromeda very near (on the
principle of his second gauging method), because his
smallest telescope, nay, even the naked eye, shows its milky

•JoLY 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

211

light — that also must be mentioned. Tlie nebuhe he could
resolve into stars Herschel regarded as near; the Andromeda
nebula, which he could not so re.solve, he considered, so
judged, to be much farther a\yay. This result, being in-
consistent with the other, might be supposed to suggest
doubt whether we must not giv-e up either the principle of
inferring distance from the telescopic power required to
show an object, or else the principle which depends on the
po.ver necessary to resolve an object into stars ; for the
Andromeda nebula cannot be at once the nearest of the
nebulffi, as Herschel inferred when using one principle, and one
of the farthest, as another jirinciple which he had suggested
would obviously te.ach. This, however, has by no means
happened. Both princijiles are blandly quoted, not only in
text-books of astronomy, but by astronomers who do not
write text-books. E.Kcept by the present writer, and earlier
(but independently I by Sir. Herbert Spencer, the obvious —
one might almost say the staring — discrepancies between the
results given by the two methods of star-gauging have not
beL'u noticed. Sir John Herschel, however, noticed even
earlier the simplj' decisive evidence given by the Magellanic
Clouds, and pointed out that this evidence threw doubt on
the results commonly quoted as established by his father.
Doubts, indeed ! Clouds, looking like rounded masses of
milky light, contain stars of all orders, from the seventh
magnitude, down to the faintest which even a two-feet
mirror will show, and patches of absolutely unfathomable
nebulosit}', besides all classes of nebula? ; so that these clouds,
interpreted by the two methods of star-gauging, consist of
series of marvellously attenuated spike-shaped regions of
stars — the spikes all, by a strange chance, pointing directly
from the solar .system, while also these spikes, really belong-
ing to our own sidereal system, all point directly towards
remote galaxies lying at distances exceeding thousands of
times the whole span of our galaxy. This is not merely
incredible, it is impossible ; for such spike-shaped arrays of
stars could not remain in that jireposterous form, oven if
they Could assume it fur a single day.

It has been only through the careless commingling of Sir
AV. Herschel's varied results and methods that absurdities
such as these have been associated with his splendid labours,
and it has only been by entireh' misinterpreting the immense
mass of material he has collected, and applying remarks
made at one time to results noted at another when his views
had entirely altered, thsit the idea of objects thousands of
years of light-journey from our system has come to be
regarded as anything beyond a mere speculation. It only
appears in Herschel's papers in compmy with an assumption
which has long since been entirely disproved.

<B 0 2! Sip*

By Richard A. Proctor.

There is no room this month for the Chart of Mare,
which is now, however, in the engraver's hands, and will
appear next month.

The series of pa[)ers on Spectroscopic Analysis promised
for the present volume has been delayed chieHy by want of
space. We have had to find room for several matters which
had not been taken into account or looked for. I may note
here that papers on spectroscopic anah-sis, considered as it
has to be considered in text-books, would have no value
here. Only such matters will be considered as .are usually
left Tintouched in such books. In particular, the laws on
which the formation of the diffraction spectrum depend will
be carefully de.ilt with. This matter has been either wholly

neglected in the text-books, or such explanations have been
given as scarcely any fellow not a fellow of a mathematical
society could be expected to understand or follow.

A CORRESPOXDEST invites me to write a series of article s
with illustrations showing how the constellations appear to
the inhabitants of planets attending on other suns than ours.
I can very readily state and illustrate all I know, or could
by life-long labour learn, on this portentous subject.
Omitting three stirs, all I know about it is indicated
between the end of this paragraph and the beginning of the
next.

* * *

In Knowledge for May last there occurs, in one of the
short reviews, an expression relating to the last Government
for which I deem it just to offer apology. The author of the
review must not be understood therefore as necessarily
considering that any apology is necessary on his behalf. It
is solely for myself, as conductor of Knowledge, that I
speak. I offer no opinion about the late Government or
about the particular matter on account of which an expres-
sion belonging too clearly to the vocabulary of abuse (so
Bob Acres thought, anyway) is applied to that Government.
I only note that Knowledge must not deal with politics,
save as they bear on sociology, which is a department of
science. It has always seemed to me unfortunate
(sociologically speaking) when newspapers (even partisan
organs) substitute personal attack for the discussion of the
principles on which the conduct of political matters should
depend. I reside in a country where the great body of the
people seem to expect their newspaper writers to be virulent ;
but the better sort, even here, do not like to see personal
attacks in the daily journals. I should be sorry to see our
newspaper writers in the old country " letting their angry
passions rise " and their tone sink, as happened I fear (I
hear so) during a recent struggle into which somehow
Donnybrook Fair fashions (perhaps naturally) found their
way for awhile both in Parliament and in the papers.

Practical Education. By Charles G. Leland. (Whit,
taker & Co.) — We owe a good many bad things to com-
mercial competition, and some good things ; and among
these last, perhaps, may be classed the demand of late years
for pi-actical education. Granted that a boy must have his
mind sharpened upon some whetstone, is a Latin whetstone
the only one that will suit ? Allowing that there are certain
things which must be learnt while a boy is at school (as,
for example, the elements of literature), may no seeds be
planted to develop later that may bear actually on his future
work, and fit him earlier for the battle of life] Our
English education has been one-sided far too long. Aut
Ccesar nut nullus may be freely translated fur our public
schoolboys — " either a classic or a duffer ; " and our modern
sides have generally been the intellectual dustholes of the
schools. " Rubbish may be shot here " would be a suitable
motto for the doorways to the cla.ssrooms, and all who enter
abandon hope of success in their school life. But the times
are changing, and Mr. Leland's book is a valuable contribu-
tion to the discussion of an important question. Mr.
Leland may say crede experto, for his plans have been tested
and found successful. As a supplementary course to their
ordinary school-work, his pupils pursue many light, inter-
esting, and useful arts — as aupentoring, leather- work,
carving, repoussi work, and so forth. These have as their

212

* KNOWLEDGE

[July 2, 1888.

basis a training in design, and even if Mr. Leland's
pupils never get beyond admiring artistic eflests, and
striving to imitate and originate them, it would be
a great thing. But he claims that they have been
eminently successful ; and while we do not quite like
the occasional reference (as if it proved the writer's case
up to the hilt) to the fact that " such a pupil could
easily earn two dollars a da}'," his plans are, we think, very
good. The Sloyd or Sliijd system of manual instruction to
which Mr. Leland alludes in his preface, and of which, we
think, he should have known earlier, hardly competes with
his method. It might even be dovetailed in with it, as an
elementary branch. In giving its pupils a model to follow
strictly, and leaving no room for imagination or design, it is
decidedly inferior to the plans pursued by our author. In
the chapters on memory Mr. Leland has dealt with the
decay of this power under the influence of printed books.
But we think that here he unduly estimates the powers of
the ancients ; probably an educated man nowadays, know-
ing some one thing well, the elements of numerous sub-
jects, and where to look for details, reiiieinhers a great deal
more than the average educated man of centuries back.
The marvellous stories told by Mr. Leland as to feats of
memory we are bold enough to doubt. The liook is, how-
ever, readable and well worth reading.

Electrical Instriuw.nt Jfakiny for Amateurs. By S. E.
BoTTONE. (London : Whittaker & Co. 1888.)— We may
fairly say that JMr. Bottone has produced the very model of
wliat a practical handbock should be. On the value and
advantage to the amateur of being able to construct his own
apparatus it is needless hero to insist, and the pupil who
places himself in our author's hands must be incredibly idle
•and inattentive or abnormally stupid should he fail to
produce .satisfactoi-y results after a study of the little book
before us. The descriptive language is of the plainest, and
an abundance of woodcuts suffices to make everything
needing illustration clear and intelligible. Every student of
electrical science should purchase Mr. Bottone's small work
straightway.

The Pattern-maker's Jlanchihook. By P.\ul "NT. Hasluck,
A.I.M.E. (Loudon : Crosby Lockwood & Son. 1887.)—
Castings in iron, bi'ass, and other fusible metals are made,
as many who will read these lines know, from wooden
patterns which are imbedded in what is called moulding
sand, on their withdrawal from which hollow moulds are
left into which the molten metal is jiovu-ed. Very great art
and nicety indeed are involved in the construction of these
patterns, as, to take a single illustration, if the lower part
of the model were in the least degree larger than the upper
portion, it never coidd be extracted from the sand at all
without breaking such sand down. Mr. Hasluck's book,
then, goes into the details of construction at once of the
simplest as of the most complicated patterns likely to
be met with in practice. It forms a most valuable, if not
indispensable adjunct to Mr. Graham's " Brassfounder's
Manual."

The Gospel in Nature. By Henry C. McCook, D.D.
(London: Hodder it Stoughton. 1888.) — Eloquent in dic-
tion, and replete with a wealth of illustration, these sermons
of Dr. McCook's seem admirablj' adapted to carry conviction
to the minds of — those who believe already 1 For through
the entire book runs the most oh\\ox\i petitio princij)ii that
every word of the Bible, as we have it, is supernaturally
free from error, and that the myths and legends of the earlier
books in it are as irrefragable history as a report in
" Hansard " is of a deb.ate in the irouse of Commons. Wc
need go no further than our author's illustration drawn (on
1>. 80) from the battle of Beth-horon, although wo arc

thankful to say that he stops short at the hail and thunder-
storm, and does not inflict the story of the sun and
moon standing still on his readers. How much of their
history (so called) the Jews derived from the Chald?eans we
are only just beginning to apprehend. But the point upon
which we would particularly insist is that the very natural
phenomena which he adduces in proof of the harmony
between science and revelation might be quite as justifiably
employed by the Parsee to show the divine origin of the
Zend-Avesta, or by the Brahman to prove that the Vedas
were inspired. It seems like killing the slain to point out
that (on p. 113) he refurbishes Paley's exploded argument,
that any one seeing a clock (it was a watch in Paley) must
perforce be convinced that that clock had a designer;
ignoring the fact that such supposition would only occur to
a person who had previously seen a piece of mechanism of
some sort in the course of construction. Did Dr. McCook
never hear of the Highland soldier, who, having robbed the
body of a dead officer of his watch at Prestonpans, and
being abso'utely ignorant that it required winding up, glee-
fully sold it next day for eighteenpence, as (ho subsequently
told" his comrade) " she had died in the night " 1 Millions
of men have seen various pieces of machinery made, or aro
familiar with tho?e ^\ ho make them ; but we have, so far,
never yet met with a man who has witnessed the construc-
tion of .an echinus or a giraffe. Be it remarked that we aro
neither denj'ing nor asserting that marks of design are visible
in nature ; we .are only predicating the utter failure of Dr.
McCook's illustration to pi-ove it. People, though, who care
for sermons, and who require something above the level of
ordinary pulpit platitudes, may do worse than obtain the
volume before us.

The Eeligious Sentiments of the Human Mind. By
Daniel Greenleaf Thompson. (London: Longmans,
Green, it Co. 1888.) — So comparatively large a proportion
of mankind take their religion from their priest or minister,
as they do their physic from their doctor, that to speak of a
science of religion must appear to them as something akin to
blasphemy. Their mental attitude is scarcely caricatured in
the more or less veracious narrative of the small child in
the Sunday-school, who, when asked what faith was, replied,
" Believing what you know isn't true ! " And yet a little
dispassionate reflection must suffice to convince any impar-
tial thinker that the religious sentiment, like any other
mental afleotion or operation, must have its origin in the
constitution of the human mind, and must be as amenable
to investigation as any other psychical condition, whether
perceptive, intellectual, volitional, or emotional. In the
very able and thoughtful work before us, then, Mr. Thomp-
son traces the genesis of the idea of the supernatural, and
exhibits, in more or less detail, the forms in which it has
subsequently been developed : the ultimate conclusion at
which he arrives being that while we really know, and can
know, nothing of the matter in any legitimate sen.se, yet
that the balance of probability inclines tow.ards the existence
of the supernatural, and of, in some form, a future life. He
then discusses our religious sentiments in relation to feeling
and conduct ; incidentally treating of the various conditions
of existence in another world which have been imagined by
divers .schools of thinkers. In the concluding poi-tion of his
remarkable volume ho deals with the application of the
principles he has enunciated to popular education, and here
makes a suggestion which will assuredly set by the ears
the thousand and one sects who figure in every census. It
is neither more nor less than this, that no dogmatic theology
should form any part whatever of the curriculum of public
education, but that if religion is to enter at all into such
curriculum, the students should be carefully in.structed in
the alignments against as well as those for each and every

July 2, 1888.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

213

form of religious belief — leaving liim or her to decide
batween them. That, in the existing conditioa of the
theological world, thi^ idea must remain a purel}' Utopiaa
one, no one familiar with the intense sectarian bitterness
prevailing there can for an instant doubt. The eagerness
with which the clergv of one persuasion expose the artifices
of those of another was the subject of comment by Buckle
long ago, but to suppose, for example, that an upholder of
the Athanasian Creed will consent to the presentation of
that remarkable confession of faith side by side with the
Unitarian (to say nothing of the scientific) arguments
against it, is to imagine that human nature will change ^Jer
saltum, or like a conjuring trick. The present intellectual
attitude of every professor of the myriad forms of " faith "
with which the world is afflicted, from the Churchman down
to the Shaker, is embodied in words used to the writer by
one of the most ignorant young men among all his acquaint-
ance, " Other people only believe that they are right, but I
know that I am ; " and as long as this deplorable mental
attitude persists, any advance in the direction so ably
advocated by our author is hopeless.

A 2'rcntise on Ekctrici'.i/ and Mai/netism. By E. Mascart
and J. JouBERT. Translated by E. Atkinson, Ph.D., F.C.S.
Vol II. (London: Thos. De'la Rue &: Co. ISSS.)— This
second volume of the great work of ]MJI. Mascart and Joubert
is devoted to the methods of electrical measurement, and to
the applications of e'.ectricity and magnetism. It treats
the whole subject exhaustively, both mathematically and
experimentally, and is a book without which the library
of the advanced electrician is distinctly incomplete.

The Lonr/ While Mountain: a Joxirney in Manchuria.
By H. E. M. James. (London : Longmans, Green, & Co.
1888.) — The geographer, the ethnologist, the historian, the
theologian, aud the politician, alike with him who reads
merely foi amusement, will find a fund of matter for thought
in Mr. James's interesting, important, and very readable
volume. In these days, when books of travel are compiled
by so many who simply take a return ticket to the L^nited
States by a Cunard steamer, or who go a little ofi" the beaten
track in the Tyrol, it is positively refreshing to sit down to
the perusal of a narrative of the exploration of a country
practically wholly unknown to Eui-opeans, related in the
manly and straightforward way in which Mr. James tells
his storj'. A Bombay civilian, he became entitled in the
winter of 188.5 to two years' furlouah, and in company with
Lieutenant Younghusband, of the King's Drag03n Guards,
he determined to devote a portion of his leave to a journey
through Manchuria. A glance at a map of Asia will show
that this forms the north-eastern portion of the Chinese
Empire, being conterminous with the Russian dominions on
the north and east, and with the Corea on the south. Its
area is approximately 180,000 square miles, and our author
estimates its population as between 20,000,000 and
23,000,000. The reigning Chinese dynas^ty had its orij:;in
in one of the three provinces (Feng-t'ien) into which
Manchuria is divided. So utterly ignorant have Europeans
hitherto been of Manchurian geography that, in a map
issued not long since bj' the Royal Geographical Society, a
chain of snow-covered mountains some 12,000 feet high
appears which has no objective existence whatever ! In the
southern and eastern part of this strange country, though,
" The Long White Mountains " — which give their name to
the work before us — are actually to be found, and very
grand must be the landscapes in which they form a pro-
minent feature. A facsimile of a coloured sketch by Sir.
Younghusband of the so-called '■ Dragon's Pool " at the very
summit of the range forms an appropriate frontispiece to the
volume. At a place called Yingtzu, on their way from
Newchwang to Moukdeu, our travellers were joined Ijy IMr.

Fulford, of the Consular Service, who as a good linguist
and first-class shot formed a valuable addition to the party.
We do not propose to follow them here through their long
journey of something like 3,114 miles in unknown regions.
a journej' often performed under circumstances of ditliculty
and peril well calculated to have deterred men of merely
average resolution and pluck altogether. The reader will
thank us for sending him to gather the details from Mr.
James's book itself ^Ve need merely say here that its
perusal will throw fresh and valuable light upon the condi-
tion of the Chinese empire, and on tlio nature of its rela-
tions with Great Britain. Some additional insight into
Russian policy in Asia may also be obtained from its pages.
A good idea, too, will be gathered of the kind and amount
of success attained by the various missionaries — Catholic
and Protestant — -who are making so heroic a fight for tbeir
own forms of faith in these remote regions. Finally, we
earnestly recommend every impartial inquirer to study
carefully our author'.s utterances on the opium question,
concerning which as much utter cant has appeared in this
country as has ever lieen written or spoken even about
total abstinence or vegetarianism itself. An excellent may
and an exhaustive index add materially to the value of
Mr. James's volume, which we have no hesitation in pro-
nouncing the book of travels of the season.

The Naturalist in NicxrajiM. By Thomas Belt, F.G.S.
Second edition, revised and corrected. (London : Edward
Bampus.) — We heartily welcome this reprint of one of the
most fascinating and instructive narratives of travel ever
published, for the first edition is not only out of print, but
very scarce. Apart from the vivid descriptions of Central
American scenery which brighten its pages, it evidences
throughout to the powers of minute observation, and of
insight into the deep significance of the actions of the
humbler life-forms, especially of ants, which its lamented
author possessed, and which won for his work Darwin's
unstinted praisa. That " hall-mark " should suSice as in-
ducement to our readers to buy the book. The excellent
woodcuts, which were a feature of the first edition, have
lost none of their freshness.

The Demon of Dyspepiia. By Adolpiius E. Buidger,
B.A., M.D., <tc. (London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey,
k Co. 1888.) — Under this somewhat affected title. Dr.
Bridger has produced a work of sterling value and use, and
one which may be read with pleasure and profit alike by the
dyspeptic and by the happy man possessing the ostrich-
like power of " digesting a tenpenny nail." Our author
enters very fully indeed into the nature of perfect digestion,
the value of various kinds of food, and the results, primary,
secondary, and tertiary, of deranged digestive powers. To
read his chapters on "Vegetarianism " and "Stimulants and
Stimulation " after the perusal of the rant of the Allinsons
and Wilfrid Lawsons is akin to turning from an essay
by a flit-earth man like Mr. John Hampden to Sir John
lierschel's " Outlines of Astronomy."

The Farmer's Friends and Foes. By Theodore Wood,
F.E.S. (London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, it Co.
1888 ) — Mr. Wood will be remembered as the author of
that well-written and interesting little book " Our Insect
Allies," and we may s;iy in the outset that the qualities
which rendered that work at once so valuable and readable
are possessed in a high degree by the volume before us. It
is one whicli should be in the possession of every agricul-
turist : farmers, as a rule, having but indistinct ideas as to
what forms of animal life it will best pay them to preserve.
The two solitary birds whose presence on a farm Mr. Wood
regards as an unmixed evil are the wood-pigeon and the bull-
finch, while he has a good word — in point of f;\ct a great

214

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

many good words — for that pariah among the feathered
tribes, the sparrow. Many will learn with some astonish-
ment how much they are indebted to the frog, the toad, the
lady-bird, and the glow-worm, among other unsuspected
benefactors. Even apart from its mere economic value, the
work whose title heads this notice will furnish a fund of
interest and amusement to every dweller in the country by
its descriptions, at once accurate and picturesqiie, of the
myriad forms of life which either benefit or injure us. It
is worthy of note, by the w.ay, that some of the farmer's
friends are bitter foes to the horticulturist ; but Mr. Wood
always candidly warns us when this is the case.

Messrs. Cassell & Co. send us copies of their admirable
N'eiv Standard Drawing Copies, prepared to meet the latest
requirements of the Science and Art Department ; and of
the " Sixtieth Thousand " of the Citizen Header, describing
in clear and attractive style the machinery and institutions
of the State. Hazell's Annual CijelopcfAia improves by
experience, and there are few holes to be picked in this
year's issue. It has become an indispensable companion to
Whitaker.

Messrs. Griffith & Farran send us a compendious A'rery I)ni]
Dictionary, and the second and cheaper edition of M. CiiArT.iN-
Ayeton's Child-Life in Japan and Japanese Child-Stories,
a delightful book, quaintly illustrated by native artists.
Messrs. Hamilton, Adams, k. Co. have issued an abridged
edition of the ever-readable but now little-read Xoctes
Amlrosiance, with which we advise a generation that knew
not " Christopher North " to make acquaintance. Among
serials we have the Century, with Matthew Arnold's
posthumous paper on Milton ; Lonqmans Magazine, with a
moderate and useful paper by Dr. Richardson in favour
of vegetable diet; and the Westminster lievieio, which im-
])rovcs every month — the May number is far and away
the best among the half-crown magazines. Among the
articles of sterling value are those on tramps of the past and
present ; England, or rather London, in the last century, as
seen through French and German eyes ; and a painful but
valuable paper, quite remarkable of its kind, on the cure of
habitual drunkards, by one who thus signs himself, and
who tells the story of his shame and ultimate rescue. Space
does not permit us 1o do more than make bare reference to
an article in the Edinburgh Fcvicw for April on " Darwin's
Life and Letters," in which the reviewer glories in his
shame that he has always opposed the theory of natural
selection.

dBm WBWt Column*

By "Five of Clubs."

THE following game, played in Pydney on March 10, ISSS, was
contributed by Y to the AvstraUisian, wliose whi.st editor has
kindly .'cnt it to us. We give his notes first ; and some comments
of our own afterwards. (Z was a visitor from England, the rest
were .Sydney whist-players.

THE HANDS.
P /S. (?rK;n/w).— Kn. H.— 10, 0, .5. "1

-'^XD.— Q, Kn, C, t. C— 9, S, 7, t, 2./

B

rS (f/As-l.— 9, 8,7, 3, L'
J D.— Kn, 8, .5.
1 11.- K, 9. 4.
C— Kn, C.

Y

Z

Tr. S. 10
A leads.

S. (;■;)«),— 10, 5. "1
II.— A, 10, 9, .8. \
If.— A, Q, 8, 2. '
C— A, K, 3.

Z

H.— Kn, 7,3.1
C— Q, 10, .5. /
Score :— A B 1 ; T Z 1 .
Card underlined wins trick ; card underneath leads nest.

. /S. {frumps).— k, K, Q, C,
^ ID.— 7, 2.

©

A

4- 4-
* 4>

4-
4-

0 1
0

0 0
0

0 0

0 0
0 0

— 6—

9 «7

<?

<? <?

<?

[5> ^

—6—

10

•!• -5.
4*

4. 4.
4. 4.
4. 4.

4. 4.

PA

4. * 4.

4. 4.

4-

NOTES.

Trick 1. — A leads correctly.
"With the exception of the Club
Queen he holds no card outside
trump which he is likely to
make. He must, therefore, trust
to finding his partner with some
strength in the plain suits.

Trick 2.— This trick gives A
the information that there are
three trump; remaining in Y's
hand. B's discard ouglit to have
been the Heart, in which he has
no strength wh.atevor,r.ither than
the Club, which, with the help of
his partner, he has some chance
of bringing in.

Trick 3. — A's lead of the Spade
Ace is very injudicious play. By
parting with that card he prac-
tically incapacitates himself from
taking any further share in the
direction of the game. He
ought, in our opinion, to have
played the Diamond Seven, on
the chance of making one of his
small trumps on the Diamond
suit.

Trick 4. — Of course Y makes
a bid for this trick, in order to
have the opportunity Of drawing
A's losing trumps.

Trick 10 — At this point of
the hard Z has two chances of
winning the game. These are
that the Di.amond King is with
Y, in which case it is qui'e
immaterial how Z leads ; or else
that the Di.amond King is with
A, and the Diamond Qaeen with
Y. It is be'ter, of courfe, to
take advantage of a double
chance than to adopt the line of
play which cannot succeed un-
less one named card be in part-
ner's hand. Consequently, Z
ought to have led the Diamond
Ten.

NOTES BY "FIVE OF
CLUBS.''

Trick 3.— Had not B mis-
takenly discarded a Club, indi-
cating weakness in the suit, A
might have led a small Club
here, on the chance of making
the Queen. Leading a Diamond
there is rather more risk of Ys
getting a lead and forcing out
trumps. A single trick by A-B
saves and makes the game — this
is patent to the whole table ; and
it is absolutely essential to A-B
to play as dark as possible. Heart

Knave or Diamond Seven would at once indicate A's position. This

applies to A's lead at trick 4, after his mistake in leading the

Trump Ace.

Trick 8. — Z's play should be the Diamond Ten here, rather than

at trick 10, though certainly at 10 it not made at 8 or 9. The reason

for this lead is that given in the above notes.

And Y-Z score four by cards and
a double ag.ainst four by honours.

M. LuDOVici's Art School for Ladt Students. — An inter-
esting annual prize competition has been started in connection wiih
this school, for the best subject picture. Three money prizes and
three orders of merit in gold, silver, and bronze will be given. The
awards will be made in October 1888, the judges being Messrs.
Albert Moore, Mortimer Menpes, and G. II. Broughton, A.R.A.
Messrs. Dowdeswell & Dowdeswell have kindly consented to lend
their gallery in Bond Street for the public exhibition of the competi-
tive paintings. As M. Ludovici has some very promising lady students,
this competition is looked forward to with considerable interest.

July 2, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

215

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR JULY.

By F.R.A.S.

0 minute anil rare are tlie spots on the sun's disc
that they arc not worth looking for. For the first
tliree weeks there is no real night in any part of
the British Islands. The face of the night sky will
he found delineated on map vii. of " The Stars in
their Seasons.'' Mercury is practically invisible
at the beginning of the month, but becomes a
morning star after the 0th, and on the 29th attains
liis greatest elongation west of tlie sun (19° 27');
at the end of July he may be seen before sunrise in the ENE.
Venus is, to all intents and purposes, invisible. M.ars is dwindling
to a mere big red star. When viewed in a sufficiently powerful tele-
scope it will be seen that his disc is gibbous and not circuhir; but
very little of his superticial detail can be made out. He is a little
to the north-west of Spica Virginis ("The Stars in their Seasons,"
map v.). Jupiter must be looked for as close to the meridian as
possible, as he is very low down even at his transit. He is to the
WNW. of A Libra; (" The Stars in their Seasons," map vi.). The
certainly visible phenomena of his satellites are very few. On the
1st, satellite ii. will be eclipsed at lOh. 57m. 27s. p.m. On the 2nd,
satellite i. will enter on to the planet's disc at 9h. 30m. r.M. ;
followed by its shadow at lOh. 2-tm. ; and will leave Jupiter's
opposite limb at llh. 43m. P.M. On the 3rd, satellite i. will re-
appear from eclipse at 9h. o2m. 2.5s. p.m. On the 6th, the egress of
the shadow of satellite iii. will occur at lOh. 53m. P.M. On the 9tb,
satellite i. will begin its transit at llh. 19m. p.m. On the 13th,
the egress of satellite iii. will happen at lOh. 3Jm. p.m. On the
17th, satellite i. will be occulted at lOh. 25m.; and the egress of
the shadow of satellite ii. take place at llh. 5m. p.m. On the 18th,
the egress of satellite i. at 9h. 49m. will be followed by that of its
shadow at lOh. 56ni. P.M. Lastly, on the 25th, sa'ellite i. will
begin its transit at llh. 27m. P.M. Satur;i and Neptune have both
left us until almost the beginning of winter. Uranus may be
picked up as soon as ever it is dark enough a little to the south of a
line joining 7 and 6 Virginis (" The Stars in their Seasons," map v.).
The moon enters her last quarter at 3h. 52-6m. in the early morning
of the 1st, and is new at 6h. 6- 7m. A.M. on the 9th. She enters her
first quarter at Oh. 12-9m. P.M. on the 16th, is full at 5h. 45-lm. A.M.
on the 23rd, and enters her last quarter for the second time this
month at 8h. 29-6m. P.M. on the 30th. There will be a total eclipse
of the moon in the early morning of the 23rd, but very little of it
will be visible in this country, as the first contact with the earth's
shadow occurs at 3h. 55m. A.M. and the moon sets at Greenwich at
4h. 10m. Seven occultations of fixed stars by the moon occur at
more or less convenient hours for the observer during the present
month. They are as follows : — On the 17th |' Libra;, a star of the
6th magnitude, will disappear at the moon's dark limb, at 7h. 22m.
P.M., at an angle of 145° from her vertex, reappearing at 7h. 40m.
at her bright limb at an angle of 176° from her vertex. On the
18th 8 Libra;, a 4J- magnitude star, will disappear at the dark limb
of the moon, at 9h. 2m. P.M., at an angle of 8° from her vertex. It
will reappear at her bright limb, at 9h. 23m. P.M., at a vertical
angle of 339°. On the 19th B.A.C. 5,700, of the 6i magnitude, will
disappear at the dark limb, at lOh, 26m. p.m., at an angle of 142°
from the vertex of the moon, reappearing at her bright
limb, at llh. 14m. p.m., at an angle of 232° from her vertex.
On the 21st 0 Sagitarii, a star of the 4th magnitude, will
disappear at the dark limb of the moon 42 minutes after midnight,
at an angle of 173° from her vertex ; and reappear at her bright
limb at Ih. 15m. the next morning at an angle from her vertex of
235°. On the 23rd, 20 Capricorni, a 6th magnitude star, will dis-
appear at the bright limb at 9h.35m. P.M., at an angle of 64°fromthe
vertex of the mocn. It will reappear at her dark limb at lOh. 46ra.
P.M., at a vertical angle of 269°. On the 25th, 74 Aquarii, another
6th magnitude star, will disappear at the bright limb of the moon
57m. after midnight, at an angle of 80° from her vertex. It will
not reappear at her dark limb until 2h. 11m. the next morning, at
an angle of 308° from her vertex. Lastly, on the 31st, / Tauri, a
star of the fourth magnitude, will disappear at the bright limb of
the moon at llh. 44m. p.m., at an angle from her vertex of 25°, and
reappear at her dark limb 22m. after midnight, at a vertical angle
of 297°. When these notes commence, the moon is in Cetus (" The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.), out of which she passes at 7 o'clock
in the evening into Pisces. She is travelling through Pisces until
the same hour to-morrow evening, when she again plunges into the
northernmost outlier of Cetus ; and when she finally emerges
from this at 4h. p.m. on the 3rd, it is to enter Aries (" The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). By 2h. 30m. P.M. on the
4th, she has crossed Aries and entered Taurus. In the course
of her journey over Taurus, she arrives at Ih. 30m. P.M. on the

7tli at tlie western edge of the most northerly part of Orion. By
Ih. .\.M. on the 8th she has traversed this, and come out in Gemini
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She leaves Gemini for
Cancer at lOh. v.u. on the lith, and Cancer, in turn, for Leo at noon
oa the 11th. It takes her until 4h. a.m. on the 14th to traverse
Leo, and she then enters Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.).
Her journey across Virgo finishes at 8h. A.M. on the 17th, when she
passes into Libra (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.). Her path
through Libra brings her at midnight on the 18th to the western
edge of the narrow northern spike of Scorpio ; and when, by
9 o'clock the next morning, she has crossed this it is to emerge in
Ophiuchus. She passes out of Ophiuchus into Sagittarius at Oh.
P.M. on the 20th, and from Sagittarius into Capricornus at 2h. 30m.
A.M. on the 23rd ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.). At
llh. 30m. P.M. on the 24th she leaves Capricornus for Aquarius.
She remains in Aquarius until midnight on the 26th, and then quits
it for Pisces ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). She passes from
Pisces into Cetus at 7h. P.M. on the 27th, re-entering Pisces at 5h.
A.M. on the 29th, only to pass again into Cetus at 2ii. A.M. on the
30th. When she finally quits Cetus at 9 o'clock that night she
enters Aries. She is in Aries until lOh. P.M. on the 31st, .and then
enters Taurus ("The Seasons I'ictured," plate xxiii.). There we
leave her.

(Buv C!)f£isi Columiu

By " Mephisto."

THE following position occurred in a game recently played be-
tween Zukertort and Gunsberg : —

GUNSBEnO.
Black.

r^fii ^ ^ K1 ^ 'f^

s

t.

m 1 ^ tl „ it

WnrrE.
ZUKERTORT.
White played

22. Q to B2

which obtains a strong advantage in position ; he threatens to win
the Queen by 1! to Ktii. Q to K5 is no good, as White can attack
the Queen by Kt to B3.

Black replied 22. Q to Qsq

which was not his best defence, as it increased the difficulties of the
position by cramping his game still more. Kt to Qsq was better ;
if then 23. B to Kt6, Q to K5 ; 24. Kt to B3, Q to B3.

23. B to Kt6 23. Q to Ksq

24. B to QB5 24. Kt to K2

25. P to KKt4 2.5. K to Ksq

26. B to Q6 26. Q to Qsq
To prevent White playing Q to Kt6

27. Kt to Qt 27. B to E5

The sole idea of this move is to tempt White into advancing his
Pawns on the Queen's side, thereby loosening his position and
making a counter attack possible. The position, however, also
required as a necessary accompaniment that Black should play
K to Rsq. Not with a view to permanently defend the weak
Rook's Pawn, but for the temporary purpose of enabling Black to
bring his pieces into play, especially his Knight on Bsq, and to give
up the KRP at a time when, by playing away the defending Book,
he should obtain some chance of a counter attack.

28. P to Kt3 28. B to Qsq

29. K to Kt2 29. B to Q2

30. P to B4 30. P X P

31. BxP 31. Q to Kt3

Black seizes a desperate chance to bring his pieces into play if

216

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 2, 1888.

now 32. B X Kt, R x B seemed a compensating move, but it is not
so, for White would then replr B to QS, winning tlie exchange.

32. E X EP 32. Kt to Q t

33. B to B.sq 33. B to B3
U. Q to Q2 3i. Kt to Q2
3.5. KxP 3.5. Kt to B4
3G. B X Kt 36. Q X B

37. Pv to Esq 37. Q to Kt3

38. E X P 38. K to Esq

39. Kt X B 31). E X Kt

Black took with the Eook in order to cxchai-:ge the White Rook,
wliicli acts as a protection to the King, in the hope of tlien being
better able to mcniice White's position by means of the open Rook's
tile and ihe co-operation of Eook and Queen.

40. R >. R 40. P X R

Black, of course, relies upon the Queen commanding tlie im-
portant diagonal leading to Qo and KB7, for the potsibility of a
counter attack.

41. B to B4

Black.

White.

Black, althougli he is 3 Pawns behind, has obtained what he was
jilaying for, namely an open game.

Now in tliis position there are various points to be considered.
Firstly, if Black plays his R to RG or R8, White might probably advance
his Pawns, Black could never plav his Knight away, as White
could then play E to BS (ch), followed by Q to Q7 (ch). The Black
Queen is also confined to the diagonal she occupies on account of
tlie check on E5. Nevertliele.ss, there are four moves at Black's
disposal. The move actually played was weak, namely —

41. Ktto KG

42. BxP 42. Kt to BS

43. Q to Kt4

.anil the position is hopeless as Black now has only one check, and
he must exchange Queens.

Another move, which under circumstances might have been
possible, but must now be dismissed as useless, is 41. R to E7. If
now 42. Q X R, White will have no difficulty in avoiding the per-
petual check consequent on Q to Q5 (ch). 43. K to B2, Q to I'.G (ch).

44. K to Ktsq, Q to K8 (ch). 45. K to E2, Kt to BG(ch). 4G.
K to Kt2, Kt to Q8 (ch). 47. K to B2, Kt to KG (ch). 48. K to Q3,
and White will escape the perpetual check.

A more likely move was

41. R to Qsq
If now 42. B-f Kt 42. RxB

If he does not take the Kt, While is threatened with many dangers,
which promise to yield drawing chances ;

43. Q to K2 4.3. Q to Q5 (oil)

44. K to R2 44. K to KUq

45. Q to Ksq 45. K to Bsq

46. Q to K2 46. K to Ktsq

and we fail to see that White can do anything but accept the draw,
by playing

48. Q to Ksq

45. Q to R2 is useless, for Black simplv answers Q to Q8, compelling
White to play 49. Q to R8 (ch), R to Q.sq. 50. R to B8, and Black
draws by perpetual check.

Yet another move was

41. Q to Kt8
threalenirg to win the Qaetn ; but then White could reply
42, B to Q2, as Black dare not move his Rook to H7 on account of
Q to R5 (ch) and Q to Q8 mate. White could also venture on giving
up his Queen by playing 42. BxKtR-R7, 43. E x P (ch) with a
good prospect of winning.

THE HANDY CHART OF CHESS OPENINGS.'*
Mr. Allan Greenwell, of the Newcastle Chess Club, has adopted
an old idea, and made it serve a useful purpose. His "Handy
Chart of Chess Openings" is, properly speaking, an index to all the
Opening.^ and it is compiled in the manner of a tree, which makes it;
ea.'^y, after but a slight survey, to trace almost every move that is
ordinarily played to the class of Opening to which it belongs. Of
course it it is desired to follow up any particular variation, then a
handbook on the Openings must be consulted. Nevertheless,
although the chart, as before said, does nothing more than index
the various Openings, it appears to us to be of invaluable service, as
it brings within bird's-eye view the whole vastly complicated
system of the Che^s Openings, enabling ever}' one to make himself
familiar with the Openings, a knowledge which they might not
otherwise acquire in a lifetime. We give a few specimens of this
chart, which should be in possession of every chess-player.

w

B.
W

B.
W
p

1
1.

2_

K

3.

P to K4

1
P to K4

Ktto KB3
ing-s 1 Knight'
1 Giiine
Ktto QB3

1
B to B4

B to B4

Ginoco T
li.iun

PtoQ4
Q'leen's Opening

P to K3
Frerch Defence

P to KB4
s King'^- 1 Gambit

PxP

Accepted.
PtoQI
Scot.h
KttoKBS
vo Knghts' Defence

Kt to KB3

Znkertort's

P to Q4

Centre Counter

B toB4
E shop's G.ime

B to Bl

P to QB4
• Eug'i^h Opening
PtoQB4
Sicilian
QKt to B3
"Vienna Game

P to 04

D
B to Kt 5
Kiiy 1 Lopez
P to 0 R '-f

iclincil.

Kt to QB3
Three Kniglits

We would suggest that four more of these charts sboulil be
issued, namely, one for the King's Knight's Opening, one for the
ni>hop's Openings, one for the King's Gambits, and one for the
Queen's Gambits. Thus completed, they woulel be extremely
useful.

An untimely draw occurred the other day, which is worth
recording, as it presents this curious fact, that a strong player was
forced, very much against his will, to accept a draw after merely
ten moves had been played. Theoretically this seems almost an
impossibility, but practically such positions do occur. The game
was played as follows : —

1. P toK4 1. Pto K4

2. Pto QB3 2. P toQ4

3. Kt to KB3 • 3. Ktto QB3
4 B to Kt5 4. Q to Q:i

5. Q to R4 5. B to Q2

fi. P X P 0. Q X P

7. Castles 7. B to Q3

8. Pto Qt S. Pto K5

9. Kt to Kt5 9. P 10 KR3
10. B to Bi 10. PxKt

White now takes the Queen, and Black draws by perijetual check.

Published by Franklin's, Ncwcastlc-on-Tyne, price 6t/.

Land above the Sea Level. — Mr. John Murray (of Challenger
Expedition fame) has read a paper before the Royal Society on the
height and volume of the dry land, and the depth and volume of
the ocean. Only 2 per cent, of the entire ocean is included inside
a depth of 500 fathoms, whilst 77 per cent, of the area lies between
500 and 3,000 fathoms, and the mean deptli of the ocean is 12,480
feet. The mean height of the l.md above the sea level is 2,250 feet ;
so ihat if all the land were utilised to fill up hollows in the earth's
surface the sea would cover it to a uniform depth of two miles.

Contents of No. 32.

PAQS

Shnkespeare Self-Drawn. By " Ben-

volio" 1C9

Force and Eoeipv 171

The Star Story of the Flood 173

Growth 'f tte Alps 176

Simple Mechanical Tricks depend-
ing on Gravity 178

The Dragon and the Great

Ship 180

The Planet Mars ISl

The New Astronomy 181

PAGE

Sliakespeare and Donnelly ISi

Notes on Americanisms IS'l

Origin of Life 185

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor 18.3

Reviews 187

The Face of the Sky for June.

By F.RA.S 1S9

Our Chess Column. By " Me-

phisto" 190

Our "Whist Column. By "Five of

Clubs" 191

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" KN0'WLEDGK"a9 ft Monthly Magazino Cannot be registered as a Ke'wspflper for
trans mission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per arnmrn are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies! and South America 9 0

To the East Indiea, China, 4ic 10 6

To South Airica 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c. 14 0

To any addrcaa in the United Kincrdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Sulsoription is Ts. 6d,, as heretofore.

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

217

\^ ILLUSTRATED^MAGAZINE %
%IENCE,UTERATURE,& ART

LONDON: AUGUST I, 1888.

THE SCIENTIFIC ORIGIN OF EELIGIOUS

DOCTRINES.

I.— IMMORTAL LIFE.

EFORE considering the way ia which the
iloctrine of the immortality of the soul
resulted from the study of observed facts,
aud therefore had a scientific origin, it will
lii:' well to touch briefly on certain considera-
tions which influence men — with or with-
out just reason — in maintaining this par-
ticular doctrine.
jNIost of us are trained from childhood upwards not only
into full faith in a future and immortal life, but into the
belief that in this faith there is comfort for all the ills to
which mortal flesh is heir. The mere .suggestion of doubt
respecting the immortality of ths soul is regarded as tend-
ing to deprive the world of hops and comfort. It is in
connection with this faith that the dreary question has been
asked, Is life worth living] and the answer given by most
men to the question has been, Were this life all, it would
not be worth while to live. Our English poet laureate has
expressed the thought, when he saj-s that if man's fight with
Death be vain, and science proves we are but magnetic
mockeries, cunning casts in clav, —

Then
What matters science unto men.
At least to me ? I would not stay.

Yet few who thus express and doubtless feel the sense of
comfort in the hope of an immortal life ever consciously
reflect on what they hope for. Few even have considered
whether their faith in a future life is comforting for what it
promises themselves or for what it promises in regard to
others.

Many of honest mind, when asked whether there is much
of comfort for them in the thought of an everlasting con-
sciousness, including the clear recollection of all the events
of this life, admit readily that such eternal remembrance
would be infinitely painful. Even in this life, after a cer-
tain stage has been rearched, most men feel that life would
be scarce endurable but for the power we possess of diverting
the mind from sorrowful reflections, and especially from
brooding on the memory of those dear to us whom we have
lost. We would not indeed forget such sorrows if we
could: we even feel it to be a sacred duty from time to
time to recall them vividly to remembrance : but were we
to dwell constantly upon them, were tuey ever present in
our minds so that we could not dismiss them, we should go
mad. Yet what but ever-present consciousness of our
whole earthly lives is promised, or threatened, by the faith
in immortality 1

If we view the immortal life as it relates to others, we

quickly find reason not only to doubt how fiir fiiith in such
life is really comforting, but also to question whether we
have really entertained it so confidingly a.s we had imagined.
If we cannot well conceive immortal life for ourselves with-
out assuming that it includes conscious remembrance of all
things that have happened in the earthly life, we are equally
unable to imagine the immortal life of those dear to us
without conceiving them conscious of all that takes place in
our lives here. While ivs yet unwilling to ask our inner
selves what we really believe and hope, we may hope that
the spirits of departed dear ones will

lis near us when we fade away.
To point the term o£ human s'rife,
And on the lov.' dark verge of life
Tlie twilight of eternal day.

But while that human strife goes on, do we really believe
that the dead whom we loved are near us, and know al!
that passes in our thoughts as well as all the actions of our
life?

Do we indeed desire the dead

Should still be near us at our side 1
Is there no baseness we would hide ?
No inner vileness th.it we dread ?

It has been said that did the Catholic really hold in his
heart the faith he accepts with his reason and professes with
his lips, his reason would stagger in the actual personal
presence — as he believes he believes — of the God of the
universe upon the altar before him. It may be said with
equal truth (and it is a truth more ea.sily grasped) that if
men believed in theii' hearts that but one of those dead
whom they loved through life were still, in some changed
condition, conscious of their thoughts and actions, none
but the innately vile could commit any evil action, however
slight, or conceive any thought which a child might not con-
fide to his mother, a son to his father, a husband to his
wife. Would not the thought of each be that, if indeed

The dead shall look us thro' and thro' —

Shall be for whose applause I strove
(I had such reverence for his blame)
See with clear eye some hidden shame

An i I be lessened in his love ?

Truly it would need no perfect faith in the supervision of all
things by deity to make the believers in an immortal life
refrain from evers' wrongful act, from every evil thought.
There is scarce one among us who numbers not one at least
among his dead, for whose sake he would be blameless in
thought and deed, did he indeed believe, as so many of us
suppose we believe, that the death of the body is but the
beginning of an eternal spiritual life, in which those loved
in the earthly life are loved still, and all that they do is
known and cared for.

If, turning from definite thoughts of an immortal spiritual
life, we consider only the vague faith in an unknown and
mysterious hereafter, we find reason to fear that this faith,
though it has been comforting to many, has been distressing
to a much larger number of those who hold it. Do what
men will to keep the faith vague, they cannot for the most
part refi-ain from trying to picture it to themselves in detail.
The natural wish to define a faith which has been made so
large a part of most men's lives shows itself most strongly
(as a rule) at the time when men first begin to recognise the
possibility that death may be near at hand. As the actual
moment of death draws near there is little power and little
desire for definite thought ; the brain grows weary as the
moment for its final sleep draws near, and is content to
accept vague comfort from those round the death-bed. But
few who have had occasion to follow the thoughts of those
dear to them during the jirogress of fatal illness have not
been pained by anxious questionings addressed to those who
have professed to teach with greatest confidence the doc-

218

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888

trine of a future life. Tlie faith which had been a vague
comfort during active life, when its real significance was
little thought of, the faith which as death actually ap-
proaches may again become vaguely comforting, is at this
earlier stage of the close of life a source of distress and dis-
comfort. Something of the feeling of anxiety expressed in
the lines attributed to the dying Hadrian may be recognised
in the thoughts of the dying ere yet the heavy hand of death
is actually upon them : —

Animula vagula blandula

Hospes comesque corporis,
Qua; nunc abibis in loca ?

Pallidula, rigida, nudula,

Nee (ut soles) dabis joca.*

But if such fears often attend the death of those who,
though they have not really believed during life that after
death comes judgment, and may come eternal tortures, have

* Pope, in a letter to Steele, comments on the opinion that these
verses were trifling and unworthy ot Hadrian's death-bed. The
thoughts expressed by the dying emperor seem to him, he says,
most natural and appropriate. Doubtless he was right. There is
nothing of jest, though there is a humorous tenderness, closely akin
to pathos, in Hadrian's last words. Yet for a poet Pope shows but
slight appreciation of the essential quality of Hadrian's thought.
He translates it, both in prose and verse, into something wholly dif-
ferent— into the expression of reflections which would be neither
natural nor appropriate — since dying men are not apt to adopt arti-
ficial mental attitudes any more than artificially to pose their bodies.
"Alas my soul I " runs Pope's prose translation, "thou pleasing
companion of this body, thou fleeting thing that art now deserting
it I Whither art thou flying 1 to what unknown scene ? all
trembling, fearful, and pensive ? what now is become of thy former
wit and humour ? Thou shalt jest and be gay no more." Forty-
eight words to represent twenty ; or twenty-five if such words as
" vagula," "pallidula," &c., be regarded as double! Yet the mo.st
characteristic idea of the original is not conveyed at all. Pope's
translation of Hadrian's lines into poetry is better. Of course I am
not referring to his well-known "Vital spark of heavenly flame ! '
which was written in response to Steele's suggestion that Pope should
show how the dying Christian would address his soul, but to the
lines: —

Ah fleeting spirit I wand'ring fire

That long hast warmed my tender breast.

Must thou no more this flame inspire ?
No more a pleasing cheerful guest ?

Whither, ah whither art thou flying ?
To what dark undiscover'd shore ?

Thou seem'st all trembling, shiv'ring, dying.
And Wit and Humour are no more.

Yet this version errs like the prose translation both in excess and
defect. There are ideas in it which the original does not contaiu,
while the characteristic idea of the original, the tender anxiety of
the dying man for his soul after it shall have left the shelter of the
body, is not conveyed. The seventh line is also singularly weak :
the suggestion that the soul of a dying man seems to be dying is
indeed a little worse than weak. Nor has the original a word about
seeming. As for the last line, it does not correspond at all with the
idea conveyed in the words, "Nee (ut soles) dabis joca."

A correct translation of Hadrian's verses must suggest some-
thing ot their brevity, something of their quaintness, and some-
thing, also, of their roughness, all of which belong as much to the
little poem as the idea, missed by Pope, that it is for the soul and
not for the soul's host that pity and sorrow are to be expressed.

The lines might, I think, be fairlv presented in some such way as
this :—

Poor little wand'ring tender soul.

This body's friend and guest.
What places will you visit now ?

Pale, cold, and naked little waif.

Unwilling now (as once) to jest.

Even this is redundant, and a more accurate translation, which,
though rough, is not perhaps much rougher or quainter than the
original, might run : —

Wand'ring tender ghostie I

Body's friend and guest.

What places seek you now ? —

Pale, shivering, stript,

Nor as of yore wilt jest.

never reasoned out their unbelief, and in the weakness of
mind which (always or nearly always) precedes death are
moved by anxiety as vague as their past confidence had been,
how much longer and more seriously have those suffered
who have watched the deathbeds of those dear to them,
feeling certain that the dying have by their lives condemned
themselves to eternal punishment after death ! If this were
merely the creed (whether but professed or otherwise) of
those whose whole care during life has been to tell
other folk their duty, and to condemn the world in such
sort as to gain credit with the foolish for superior virtue, it
would not be worth considering. But alas I it is and has
been the faith, and being the faith the fear, of tens of thou-
sands of the really devout. Others than the evil — some
who are akin to men's fancies of what angels might
be — " beUeve and tremble," not for themselves, but
for those dear to them whose faith is not as theirs,
whose lives have not been all that these pure-souled
ones believe to be essential to salvation. It is only
the pulpit professors of religion who dare to repeat
the monstrous untruth that the belief in a future life has
on the whole brought comfort to devout believers. The
best of the believers, those really earnest in their belief,
refuse to be comforted by the thought of an eternity of
future happiness for themselves, in their anxiety lest those
dear to them should incur eternities of future torment, and
still less in their certain conviction that some among those
dear to them who have passed away must be punished for
ever and for ever. Just in proportion as we recognise
purity of heart and earnestness of devotion in those who
possess fulness of faith, are we certain — we who have
known and loved these simply believing single-hearted
devotees — that they suffer anguish unspeakable at the
thought of the probable future of many whom they love,
the certain future of not a few for whose welfere in the
next world they care more than for their own either in
this world or the next.

The preachers who proclaim their conviction that belief in
a future life has been a solace to the hearts of those who have
loved and lost — to the parent sorrowing for the child, or child
for parent, to spouse widowed of spouse, friend left lonely in
the world for friend — either say they know not what or pro-
claim what they must know to be untrue. The pulpit preacher
of comfort in the thought of the everlasting life is ready
enough no doubt, beside the funeral baked meats, to speak idle
words of comfort to parent or child, to wife or husband, to
brother or to sister, of the dead who was so dear ; but scarce
are the words passed from his lips in which he tells the
sorrowers that their dead have passed to a happier life,
before he will proclaim to others his conviction that not
eternal happiness but eternal misery must be the fate of
most of us, of all who do not believe as he believes. It is
those, however, who really believe who really suifer in the
thought of all their belief implies ; and were it not that,
happily, their minds are not able to wholly grasp that
thought, their whole lives, after even but one of those they
loved had passed away under such conditions as would
render eternal hapjsiness doubtful or inconceivable, would
be lives of misery. Nay, it seems to me that they scarce
could live — or, at least, live sane; that they must either die
or go mad, if it were not for some vague thought that it
cannot really be as nevertheless their faith is ever
telling them it must be. Possibly few among those who
hold most earnestly the faith we are considering, and there-
fore feel most strongly that not to hold that ftiith is of itself
a sin to be punished by all that that faith threatens, have
perceived that did they accept all their faith teaches
logically the heart would be moved to anguish so exquisite
and so enduring that life or reason must give way.

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

219

Compared with the misery which the tenderest and truest
men and women have suffered, and must suffer, at the
thought of some at least among their lost dear ones
enduring an eternal life of suffering (or were it even but
the loss of the eternity of happiness of which their faith
assures them), the cruelties which men have inflicted on their
kind because of faith in the doctrine of everhisting life,
may be regarded (terrible though they have been) as adding
relatively "but little to the sum-total of misery which the
doctrine — be it true or folse— has assuredly entailed upon
the human race. Moreover, the contemplation of man's
cruelty to man in the holy name of religion tends to wrath
rather than to sorrow. Therefore I will leave such considera-
tions here untouched.

ENGLISH PRONUNCIATION.

{Concluded from p. 198.)

HE passage in " As You Like It," where Celia
ridicules Le Beau's pronunciation, " spot "
for •' sport," suggests not only that in
Shakespeare's time the " r " was rolled, but
also that the pronunciation of the " o " was
then more nearly like our " u " in " but,"
or that "spot" was pronounced " spoot,"
and " sport " " spoort." For there is now a
marked ditferenco between the vowel sounds in the words
"spot" and "sport," whereas, Celia's play on the words
suggests that, but for the " r " lost in Le Beau's affected
pronunciation the words had the same sound. There is,
indeed, re;ison for supposing that a.s " a " in old times was
" ah," and " e " was our " a " (as in fate), so " o " was more
nearly our " u." Thus we find Constance saying :

O lawful let it be
That I have room with Kome to curse awhile.

In old Scottish writing our word " but " appears nearly
always " hot." The pronunciation '• goald " for " gold " is
even yet heard in many parts of England, and is common in
Ireland and Scotland. And the " u " sound in .such words
as " shoe," " London," (fee., serves to show that " o " was
regarded of old as representing this sound. (Observe that
this being so, the " u " sound in " London " is not a modern
corruption).

On the other hand, there is no reason for supposing that
" u " originally represented the sound of " iu " or " yu "
given to it now. The pronimciations " dook " for " duke,"
instead of '• dyook," and " Toosday " for " Tyoosday," should
be regarded rather as archaisms than as vulgarisms.

We have already seen that diplithongs like " ea " in
English, " ai " in French and the various combinations used
at diff'erent stages of the progress of a language as spoken
and written, give useful information as to the force of the
simple vowels in past times. As steady changes have
taken place in this respect, we can not alwa3's be quite
certain as to the force of a simple vowel at any given time,
or even of a diphthong, though the latter is usually a much
easier matter. For instance, old Pepys spells the word
" skate " (not the fish, which, so far as I know, is not
mentioned in his diary) in both the forms, " skate " and
" skeat." We can infer from this that in his time " a "
had already lost the "ah" sound, since "skeat" Ciinnot
possibly represent the sound " skaht," while " ea " still
represented the sound of " a " in fate. But we know that
long after Pepys' time the proper sound for " a " was
regarded as " ah." The first letter of the alphabet was even
called " ah " till a much later time in England, and is still
so called in Ireland, r being chstinguished in .sound by being

called " ahrr " — -justifying the name given it by the nurse in
" Romeo and Juliet "— " the dog's letter."

Let us consider another diphthong, " ei." If this is dealt
with according to the known sounds of "e" and "i" in
long past times, we see that it represented the sound which
we should now write " aee " given as a diphthong. Here
we recognise the justice of the rule suggested at the outset,
that the further we go from the parent stem the more likely
we are to find the older pronunciations adhered to. The
Englishman says " eyether " and " neyether," the American
says " eether " and " necther," which is decidedly nearer the
old sound. But when the Irishman was asked : " Do you
say 'neyether' or 'neether,'" he answered, "I say
' nayther,' " an answer doubly true. For it tells the
Irishman's practice, and it indicates what really is the true
pronunciation of the word, if old fashion is to be followed.
Moreover, though it would decidedly be .a solecism now to
say " ayther," yet the knowledge that this is the true pro-
nunciation is useful, as helping to show the origin of the
word from the old Saxon " aegther " contracted from
" aegh-wtether " i.e. "each-whether." (In passing we note
that, according to the interpretation we have found already
for " ea," " each " would be properly pronounced " aytch,"
by which the connection existing between " either " and
" each " is clearly enough indicated — I mean, by noting that
they were sounded " aytcli " and " ayther." This connection
is not lost in the American pronunciation, but it is entirely
lost when we pronounce the words as in England " eetch "
and " eyether.")

One of the strangest features of our English speech to
Americans is the pronunciation of such words as " Derby,"
" Hertford," " clerk," &c., " Darby," '• Hartford," " dark,"
and so forth. Here both countries have changed their
modes of pronunciation, but in opposite dii-ections (I refer
to the more usual American pronunciation of such words,
for in New England we not unfrequently hear " dark," <fec.,
as in the old country). There can be no doubt that the
original pronunciation of " clerk " was like that given still
to the word " clerc " in France. For we are certain that the
word is of French origin, and we are equally certain that its
pronunciation in France, always represented by the same
vowel letter, has changed very little, if at all. The word
then of old w.as pronounced " clairk " — as we should now
write the sound. " Clerk," no doubt, represented that
sound rightly enough of old. In Scotland this is the way
the word is actually pronounced, often even by the educated,
though thev recognise that in Great Britain at any rate
custom requires the sound " dark." In England the correct
intermediate sound " clairk " gradually changed tow.ards
" dark " till this usage became established. In America the
spelling of the word seems to have regulated the pronuncia-
tion, at first, among the educated, from whom (as was
natural in colonial communities) the rest took their pronun-
ciation. Hence, as the force of " e " in sjjelling gradually
changed to its present " er," or short " u," value, " clerk,"
pronounced " clairk," gradually changed to " clurk." B>it
the proper name spelled and pronounced Clark, Clarke, etc.,
shows in America as in England how usage long since esta-
blished the English pronunciation of the word. So does
t'le American spelling of the name " Hartford." Here the
influence of teaching could not, as in the case of the
scholarly " clerk," bring the general body of the community
to say " Hurtford," for men never willingly alter the pro-
nunciation of old home-place names. So, as the mountain
would not come to Mohamed — " the proverb is something
musty " — they altered the spelling to correspond with the
common pronunciation, since the common pronunciation
would not conform itself to the spelling. Yet Americans
should not allow the spelling, " Hartford," to destroy re-

220

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

membrance of the fact that Hartford, of Connecticut, was
named after old Hertford, in England.

Many words regarded as Americanisms, and iu one sense
very properly so, are in danger of losing the evidence of
their old Eaglish origin through the changes of sound that
have come over our simple and diphthongal vowel?. For
example, consider the words " peart " and " slick." These
are commonly regarded as provincial English in origin, and
as Americanisms because they are apt to be heard all over
Ameriai and to be used by classes which in England do not
use these words even in the very districts where they are
commonly used by the working orders. In reality, these
words are simply "pert" and "sleek" differently pro-
nounced. Analysing them according to the rules we have
recognised, we see that neither " pert " nor " peart " can be
the original pronunciation of the word "pert." "Slick"
and " sleek " are both very near to the old pronunciation of
"sleek," probably "slick" the nearer of the two. (We
have in the Danish " slikke," in Icelandic slikr.) As for
" pert " it is derived from the old French " apert," still
existing in combination in the word malapert (which shows,
by the way, that originally the woi-d " pert " implied no
rudeness or impertinence). Therefore, the original sound
was " pairt " — as we should now spell it. This would be
represented in old times by " peart" ; and, indeed, we find
Sir Philip Sidney spelling the word " pearte," writing of
" pearte boldness " (not, be it noticed, simply " peartness "
as he would if the word " pert " alone had had in his day an
unpleasant significance). It was also written " peert," just
as " great " is written " greet " in the passage quoted near
the beginning of this essay. But with the known force of
" ea " and " ee " in old times, each spelling assures us that
the original pronunciation of the word was " pairt," and
that the " pert," " peart," and " peert " of to-day are one
and the same word, all of them more or less corrupt in
pronunciation.

Before leaving the English vowels, about whose sounds,
however, a volume might be written and thousands of
curious examples produced, I must note one or two usages
which, at a first hearing, seem (to Englishmen at any rate)
peculiar.

Take first the "a" in "bath" and such words, which
Westerners are so tickled by when they hear it from an
English mouth. The true English sound is " bahth," not
as too often rendered in America (by an exaggeration of our
method) " bawth." Now, this is nearer the old pronuncia-
tion than " bath " with the " a " as in " fat." The New
Englander who s;iys (not that all do) " mahn " for " man "
is probably nearer the old .sound than the Englishman who
says " man " ; but the Westerner has departed from old
usage still farther when he says "bath "with the "a" as
in " bat."

In America the country folk mostly say " wrastle " for
" wrestle." Here both the English and the country
American pronunciation are corrupt ; though, of course,
no educated man can say anything but " wrestle." " I
would have told you," says Le Beau in "As You Like It"
(folio edition), " of good wr.astling " — and " wrastle " it is
all through, whether the Beau, or Celia, or llosalind, the
Duke, Orlando, or Charles the Wrastler himself, uses the
word. But how was the word pronounced ? It could not
possibly have been " wrestle," as we say it. It might have
bsen either with the " a " as in " fat," " fote." or " tar,"
" wrassel," " wraystle," or " wrahstle." Probably the word
was pronounced " wraystle," which would be correctly
represented in Shakespeare's time by " wrastle," and a little
later by " wrestle " (now representing a difl'erent sound).
The old Sason verb was " wraestlian " ; that origin, as well
as usage in regard to vowel letters, would indicate this

pronunciation. The American and country English pro-
nunciation are obviously nearer the old form than our
modern English and the cultured American usage.

I have mentioned an American way of pronouncing the
word " very." It chances that this was the first Americanism
I ever noticed, and I noticed it rather early in my American
experience. I had had but one conversation with an
American, on business, in which I had noticed no difference,
unless the careful pronunciation " afterwards " for our
clipped English " afterw'ds" could be called such, when, on
Friday, (Jctober 2, 1873, I travelled from London to Liver-
pool in the same carriage with an American lady and gentle-
man. At Euston the gentleman asked his wife some
question about his luggage ; the answ-er, " I'm not vuhry
sure," introduced to my notice the pronunciation I refer to.
(" Vuhry " does not represent the exact sound; the vowel
tone is correctly represented Iiy the " u " in " fur," but there
is a curious rest on the first syllable, which gives the " u"
sound a little more stress than it has, for example — in the
word "furry.") In England, of course, "very" rhymes
perfectly with " merry." But the English pronunciation
is certainly a corruption. The word was indeed formerly
written " verri " as well as " veray," and in the French
vrni we have evidence of a sound nearer to our English
" very " than to the Americanism we are consideiing. But
the original French word was " verai," and the Latin
" vrrus " indicates the proper pronunciation of the " e " as
in the modern Italian " ver " (" e " like " a " iu " fate ").
The Scotch in their " vara " are not quite right, neither
are we in England. Nor is the Ameriranism right. The
incorrupt prouunciatiou which, however, would by no
means be correct now, would make " very " rhyme very
nearly with " fairy." •■*

And now a word or two on the consonants. It might
seem that they can undergo little change — a " t " is a " t "
wherever the English language is spoken, nay all the world
over. It may be altered into a " d " or into " th," but it is not
of such alterations that I am here chiefly speaking. Rather I
am trying to show that the actual force of particular letters
has changed. It seems at first sight impossible that con-
sonantal letters can have altered in their actual force as
we have seen that vowels have. Yet not a few of our
consonants have altered in this manner. Take first our old
friend the letter " h." I am not about to dwell on the
special English misuse of this letter, which, indeed, I con-
sidered fully about two years since in the pages of the
Atlantic Monthly. I am proposing to show what many, I
believe, will be somewhat surprised to learn, that the letter
" h " originally represented more than a mere aspirate. The
English race began to misuse the " h " long before they
began to drop their aspirates and to throw aspirates in
where they are not wanted. Consider first the very name
given of old to this letter and still used, though its signifi-
cance has long since passed away. We call the letter
" aitch." Every other consonant is called by a name which
includes the force of the letter, and no other consonantal force
whatever. In the name of " h " .alone there is a consonantal
force which is more than the letter itself, however fully
aspirated or even exaspirated, ever has in our mouths. Is
there not some evidence here that " h " formerly had a
similar force 1

We may here pause a moment to ask if the letter were
always so called, or if the name given to it, though similarly

* One of tlie oddest of all the vowel changes I have ever heard of

has recently come under my notice. I had long observed that
uncultured persons in America spoke of Eyetalians for Italians ;
Rooshans (like Mrs. Gamp) for Russians, and so forth ; but that our
old familiar Louisa should be pronounced Lou-ej-e-sar was, I must
admit, a new and painful e.^perience.

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

00 I

spelled, were similarly pronounced. We have curious
evidence on this point in " Much Ado About Nothing."
" By my troth,' .sa}s Beatrice, " I am exceeding ill. Heigh-
ho." " For a hawkp. a horse, or .i husband ? " asks IMargaret.
" For the letter that begins them all, h," that is. for an
" ache " — heartache, as Margaret presently hints, when she
.says, " God send every one their heart's desire." Now we
know that the word '' ache " was formerly not always
pronounced "' ake," but often "aitch" — or at any rate in
such a way that "aches " was a dissyllable. For while we
have in the folio (our best guide in such matters) Othello
saying, '" Smell'-st so sweet that the sense akes at thoe." we
have in "The Tempest," '• Fill all thy bones with aches"
— and other examples attesting a variable pronunciation.
(Tlie elder Kean, following, it is said, Charles Kemble,
pronounced " ache ' invariably " aitch. ' But be this as it
may, Beatrice's lemark assures us that there was a conso-
nantal force in the name of the letter " h. " Indeed, the
vei-y circumstance that "h " appears in the name "ache" is
significant both as to the original pronunciation of the word
and as to the original force of the letter. There is no trace
of aspiration in the word '' ache " as we pronounce it ; but
also there is no trace of the present force of " h " (or rather
its want of consonantal force) either in " ache " pronounced
"aitch," or in such words as character, chagrin, or architect.
The v.ariability of the present force of " ch, " combined with
the entire absence of any aspiration in pronouncing any
form of the compound letter, shows that originally " li '
represented more than a mere aspiration, and probably
represented more than one con.sonantal effect.

Hence we can understand what otherwise seems so singu-
l.ar, that our "h.ard " is regarded by philologists as akin to
the Greek Icratos or Icartos, strength ; that " horny " and
" corny " are akin ; that, conversely, our"g,arden" (which
is the Saxon " geard " .and the old Engli-sh garth, etymolo-
gically identical also with "yard"), is from the same Aryan
source as the Latin hortus and the Greek chortos, an inclosed
place for feeding. In the last word, resembling the French
form, jardin, we find h, g. y, j, ch, all doing duty in turn —
which affords tolerably clear proof that " h " had originally
more than mere aspirational force, though it shows also
that the force of the letter was variable and unstable.

Here, however, we are confronted by the fact that in old
Saxon words which afterwards had a decidedly guttural
jironunciation, and which are to this day spelled in such a
way as to show how they must formerly have been pro-
nounced, "h" does duty for the guttural. Thus, our
" light " and " sight " wore in old Saxon " liht " (or " leoht ")
and " siht." It is certain the " h " had some meaning here,
equally certain that up to the fifteenth century these words
had a guttural pronunciation ; and it is incredible (as con-
trary to the spirit of English language changes) that a
guttural should have replaced some lighter and easier
pronunciation, represented by the "h" in "light" and
" sight."

AVe can understand, -also, when we recognise the con-
sonantal force given to the letter " h " of old, the singular
combin.ation " hw " constantly used in Saxon where we
write " wh." Thus " hwil " represented our " while," and
" who, which, what, when, why," itc, were respectively
"hwa, hwilc, hwa^t, hwainne, hwi," itc. The corresponding
words in Latin began with "qu," representing probably
the sound " chw " (" ch " guttural) rather than " kw."
We retain only the " w " sound, having almost lost in
England even the aspirate part of "wh"; the French
retain only the " k " sound, to which the Italian " ch " is
now equivalent, though probably once guttural. In Scot-
land the full consonantal sounds were long retained in the
old forms " quhile," "' quha," which probably resembled

very closely in pronunciation the Saxon way of pronoun,
cing " hwil," " hwa," &c.

Much might be said about the letter " h " as it now
appears in such combinations as " th," " ph," &c. Tliere
is abundant evidence that the two sounds now repre.sented
by " th," as in " thought " and " that," are really corrup-
tions of sounds correctly represented by " t " aspirated and
by"d" aspirated respectively. These sounds are still re-
tained in parts of Ireland.

Our modern " j " again is a orruption of a sound nearly
akin to the consonantal "y."

The changes which have affected the letters " 1 " and " r,"
as shown by many passages in old plays (for instance, in the
play on the words " Walter " and " water," in Henry VI.,
part 2, act 4, .sc. 1), are well worth studying by those who
wish to form some idea of the way in which our mother
tongue was prob.ably spoken by our forefathers, and in
particular by those among our forefathers to whom we owe
the parentage of English literature.

But for the present — sat prata hiberunl.

COLOURS OF ANIMALS AND FLOWERS.

WAS watching not long ago the behaviour of a
chameleon in the midst of the bright sreen
leaves of ivy (of the kind sometimes called
railroad ivy) in a Florida garden. The lizard
(Dendrosaur, if the lovers of long words
prefer it) was so nearly of the same colour as
the surrounding leaves that my eye could
detect no difference, though 1 have a keen sense of colour
differences. While I watched, two events took place, each
of which illustrated the value of the chameleon's then dis-
played colouring. A small fly, itself somewhat resembling
in colour the ivy leaves, but as it appeared not sufficiently so
for safety, settled on a neighbo\iring leaf In an instant
the tongue of the chameleon was protruded and withdrawn,
so quickly that the motion could hardly be detected ; but
after the movement the fly was no longer on the leaf, nor
had he flown away. The chameleon seemed to know where
that fly was, for one of its globular eyes, which had for a
moment only been directed on the fly, was turned towards
myself witli a look which seemed to say in chameleon lan-
guage, " I had him there," the whole aspect of the lizard show-
ing that he still had him. A few moments later the gardener
approached, whom the chameleon .seemed to know better
than it trusted him, for it slipped away among the leaves
so dcftlj- that the eye could barely follow its movements.
(It must not be inferred that the gardener had made attempts
on that lizird's life ; on the contrary he valued the chame-
leon for his services ; but he had often disturbed it by
watering the plants on which it rested, and this was an
indignity which that little Dendrosaur resented.) A few
minutes after, the gardener having retreated, the chameleon
was on one of the sticks supporting the garden ivy, and
there it gradually assumed the same colour, .so far har-
monising with the stick that he seemed only an excrescence
upon it, not a live creature which a short time before had
been light green in colour.

Among the various developments — protective, destruc-
tive, or simply attractive— okserved in animals and plants,
few are more interesting than colour. Let us consider a
few illustrations of the various forms in which colour affects
the development of life.

Consider the striped tiger, on the one hand, as an example
of colour in an animal which lives by preying on others,
and the zebra, on the other hand, as an example of colour

222

KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

ill an animal whose life depsnds on its not becoming the
prey of carnivoi'ous animals. We can understand how, in
certain regions, those members of feline races who chanced
to have markings on their bodies which corresponded in
appearance with the stems of trees, or with jungle reeds, and
the like, would be better able to remain concealed till the
animals which formed their prey came within range of their
spring, and so would have the best chances of living — for
carnivorous propensities have their life-supporting as well as
their life-destroying aspect. And in like manner, although
the zebra is chiefly protected from carnivorous enemies by
his almost unrivalled speed, yet the zebra has his occasions
for rest and sleep, and it is manifestly to his advantage,
when sleeping in the shade of trees, to have markings on his
body which from a distance would be confounded with the
stems of trees and shrubs beneath which for awhile his
active limbs were at rest. For so would he best escape
the attacks of animals of prey.

It is noteworthy that when the zebra is stretched on the
ground the stripes on his legs as well as those on his body
are vertical as seen from a distance. The same is the case
with the tiger's stripes when the animal is couched for a
spring.

We can understand then how in the course of many
generations the tiger would develop his stripes to aid
him in attack, and the zebra develop his to give him safety
— for the less striped of either race would have the worst
chances in life's struggle, and so be steadily eliminated from
the stock — as surely (in the long run) though not as uni-
formly as the inferior members of flocks and herds are re-
moved by the breeder. In like manner and to like advan-
tage, the leopard and the jaguar have their spots, simula-
ting the spotted shade of leaf-bearing trees, the lion has his
sand-hued body, the antelope (besides his speed) his colour
akin to the surface over which he urges his course, and so
forth. Some animals even change in colour with the
season, or aro modified according to liabits ; for instance,
the alpine ptarmigan is white in winter, and the red grouse
resembles in colour tlie heather ; leaf-eating insscts are
green ; those which feed on the bark are grey, or brown, or
mottled.

Apart from the interest which such cases have in them-
selves (to mention only thsse few, and not the thousands
whose mere names would fill all the space available to me),
there is singular, to me imj^ressive, interest in the evidence
which these characteristic colours and markings carry with
them, even through untold ages, of their origin and persist-
ence. <-)nly a few minutes ago there passed across the porch
outside my study window a sandy-coloured cat marked with
stripes such as hundreds of thousands of years ago were of
value to its remote ancestors in the struggle for life. Bat
though it is wonderful to see such a feature as this handed
down through generation after generation after the time
when tliey were of essential use in the struggle for life,
there is something to me even more impressive in the latent
continuance of such characteristics. A few minutes ago I
saw ploughing a field of mine a mule, round whose legs, near
the joints which we call the knees in the forelegs and the
hocks in tlie hind legs (really corresponding to the wrists
and heels of man), are seven or eight rings precisely corre-
sponding to the rings round the corresponding parts of his
remote ancestor, the zebra. Through thousands of genera-
tions, in the horse and the ass, these stripes have as it were
remained dormant — though for aught I know they may
have occasionally shown themselves in particular individuals,
even as in particular men special monkey or ape-like traits
may show themselves. But, as we know, such markings
are so exceptional among horses and among asses that the
animals showing them are regarded almost as monstrosities.

Yet there has been lying in wait in the blood of both races,
during hundreds of thousands of years, this particular trait
of the wild ancestral race, ready to show itself when the two
descended races should be crossed. The case is akin to the
appearance, when breeds of fancy pigeons are crossed, of
young which are scarcely to be distinguished from the wild
ancestral rock-pigeon ; but iu one case we can trace back
the line on either side to the blue rock-pigeons through a
limited range of removals. In the other we have the
immense range of time to deal with which separates the
branching off of the equine and asinine stocks out of that
particular family of hippie animals from which the descent
of both began.

The colouring of animals i-i not always of this simply
protective character, however, though always (so far as cm
be judged) playing an important part in developments.
There are some cases in which it has been found diffisult,
even impossible, to account for the ditt'erence which
undoubtedly exists in regard to the struggle for life
between animals of the same class difl'erently coloured. In
the human race itself we find races of different colour
affected in different degrees by specific diseases. " The
colour of the skin," says Darwiu, " is sometimes correlated
in a surprising manner with a complete immunity from
the action of certain vegetable poisons, and from the
attacks of certain parasites. Negroes and mulattoes
are almost entirely exempt from yellow fever and
from the intermittent fevers which prevail along the
shores of Africa. The susceptibility of animals to the
attacks of insects is found to be correlated with colour. So
also is the liability to be poisoned by particular plants."
Professor Wyman informed Darwin that the farmers in
Virginia found only black pigs cajjable of resisting the
effects of paint root. White sheep and pigs are injured by
plants on which the darker-coloured animals can feed with
impunity. Hundreds of such cases could be cited.

In another respect colour plays an important part, viz.,
in influencing sexual selection. It is not as yet easy to
say in some cases whether this or some protective or con-
cealing influence is really in question. Thus, as Darwin
remarks, the colour of the green woodpecker seems " a
beautiful adaptation to conceal this tree-frequenting animal
from its enemies ; " but we know that there are many black
.and pied varieties, so that he concludes that " the colour is
probably due in chief part to sexual selection." It does not
seem clear that in this particular case the latter interpreta-
tion is forced upon us — since most of the pied varieties
seem as well protected by their colour as the green ; and,
in fact, we find them for the most part frequenting trees
whose bark or foliage harmonises with their own prevailing
tints. Moreover, we have already seen that the insects on
which woodpecker's live, including leaf-eaters and bark-
feeders, are diversely coloured to correspond with these
special habits. Why should not tlie same variety be found
among the birds which seek them 1 Even the red-headed
woodpecker is not quite certainly to be regarded as an
exception ; still in his case sexu.al selection seems to be the
explanation naturally suggested. In many cases there can
be no doubt that peculiarities of colour in animals of various
kinds have been developed mainly in virtue of natural
selection, or have at least been carried f;u- beyond the
requirements of mere protection.

In the vegetable world colour seems to be in all cases
dependent on the requirements of propagation. Thus where
seeds are diffused by animals, as with the berries, we find
the fruits brightly coloured to attract the attention of the
animal distributors. It may be noticed that where seeds
are distributed by the winds bright colours are not found in
the fruit, even though the plant be closely allied to species

AuGCST 1, 1888.]

- KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

223

where the bright colours are present (the distribution being
effected by animals).

The colours of flowers have been shown by the researches
of Sprengel, Fritz, Hermann, ililler, Darwin, Lubbock,
and Wallace to be necessary (or rather to have become
necessary) for the attraction of certain species of insects by
which the pollen may be transferred from the stamens (of
one flower) to the pistil (of another) and (cross) fertilisation
efiiected. Mr. Grant Allen, in his chai'ming little book on
the " Colours of Flowers," has advanced and .supported by
very striking evidence the interesting theory that the colours
of flowers range in order of development : 1. From white
found in flowere " which lay themselves open for fertilisation
by miscellaneous small flies : " 2. to yellow found in flowers
which depend on small beetles; and 3. to red, purple, Klac,
and blue found in flowers " which specially bid for the
favour of bees and butterflies." Blue seems to be the
highest development of all ; but in ca-ses of retrogression
we find the direction of change altered. In other cases,
where night insects are to do the work of fertilisation, we
find white, not as a token of inferiority or degeneration, but
as the most suitable colour for that special purpose. Some
flowers, fortunately few in number, have a Uvid red colour
resembling that of dead meat, by which (as by their un-
pleasant odour) they attract the admiring attention of flesh
flies.

Lucidly, as Sir J. Lubbock notes, and has proved, the
tastes of bees and butterflies, the most important among the
fertiUsers, are akin to ours, not only as to odour and taste,
but as to colour ; otherwise we may be sure flowei-s could
neither smell so sweetly nor be so beautifully coloured as
most of them are, nor secrete so pleasant a product as that
from which bees make their honev.

AMERICANISMS,

FARMER JOHS'S SOLILOQUY.

HIS little poem is worth careful study, as
an example of the use of Americanisms in
association with true poetry. The ex-
pressions seem vulgar and commonplace
to English ears, but the language is that
of a class, and is not exaggerated or
coarsened. Humour and pathos are as
eii'ectively combined as in Carleton's baUads.]

1.
I mout as well acknowledge, 'taint no use o' beatin' round,
I've done a heap o' thinkin', plowin' up this faUer ground,
An' suthin's been a painin' an' achin' me like sin —
I reckoned 'twas dyspepsy or malary creepin' in.

2_
At last I got my dander up, an' to myself, sez I,
The biggest fool in natur's him that tells hisself a lie :
I've been lettin' on 'tis malai-y, an' my stummick, when I

know
It's my conscience that's a hurtin' an' worryin' me so.

I've been a shirkin' this here thing for thirty year or more.
An' I orto had this shakin' up an' settlin' down afore.
I've been honest fur as payin' goes, not a penny do I owe.
But the kind o' cheatin' that I done, was the kind that
didn't show.

i.
My mind goes back to Hanner, when I fetched her here a

bride ;
No apple-bloom was sweeter, an' she nussled to my side
Like she thought she had a right to, an' could trust me

without fear
For the love I never hinted at for more'n thirty year.

There was churnin', bakin', bUin', there was nussin' an' the

rest,
From long afore the sun riz 'till he slumbered in the west.
An' when the rest of us was done, an' lollin' round on

cheers,
Hanner was recuperatin' with her needle an' her shears.

6.
But when the life was ebbin' from that faithful, patient

heart,
I had to face the music — I hadn't done my part ;
And I couldn't help a thinkin', watchin' out that weary

Hfe,
That there's other ways o' killin' 'xcept a pistol or a knife.

It sounds like sacreligion, but I knew jist what she meant
As I whispered, '• Fly to meet me when my aii-thly life is

spent " —
" I'm tired, .John, so tired, but I've alius done my best,
An' I may feel more like flyin' when I've had a spell o'

rest."

THE DONNELLY CIPHER DECIPHERED.

VXY seem to be impressed with the array of
figures advanced by Mr. Donnelly in sup-
port of his preposterous cipher system, and
supposed to represent the chances against
his results being casual. Now that he has
disclosed his secret, as he absurdly calls it,
giving the key-number of his cipher, the
problem is supposed to be reduced to one of
probabilities ; and although the fuU value of the odds as he
presents them may be regarded as questionable, yet those
who are ignorant of the laws of probability imagine that a
certain portion of those odds must still exist in favour of
the reality of his cryptogram, and a very small proportion
would still amount to an overwhelming balance of
probabilities.

As a matter of fact, Mr. Donnelly's discussion of the
question of chances shows that he is utterly ignorant of the
laws of probability. He claims odds in favour of his
cryptogram which are absolutely unreal and imaginary.
He adds and multiplies these imaginar}- chances in ways
which impress the ignorant (and those ignorant of chance
laws are many) with the idea that he is making out a strong
case, but impress those who know the laws of probability
with the sense of the amazing presumption of the man in
pretending to touch weapons of whose use he is absolutely
itmorant. That the man who could not understand Bacon's
five-letter cipher, even after he had read Bacon's sufficiently
lucid account of it, should claim to have discovered and
interpreted a cipher which, according to his own account,
Bacon had very carefully concealed, was preposterous
enough. But that a man whose every remark about the
laws of chance shows that he knows nothing about them
should claim to urge the calculation of chances in favour of his
foolish cipher-theory, is a still more stupendous example of

224

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

that blind conceit which crass ignorance alone is capable of
begetting.

But now that Mr. Donnelly has been pnshed to disclose
his key-number 83G, he has out-Heroded hi^< own Herodian
nonsense (slaughtering those innocents, the laws of arithme-
tic). He positively attempts to make the final proof of the
absurdity of his cryptogi-am a proof decisive of its validity.

If he had in some way, independent of foregone conclu-
sions, detected the number 83G as a key-number, and thence
deduced his five cipher numbers with their modifiers, and if
he could then have said " Here are certain numbers which,
applied to the folio edition of particular plays, according to
definite laws lead to a clear and consistent narrative," men
of sense might have been content to look into the matter.
The inherent d. priori improbability that a n.arrative about
Shakespeare should be concealed in a badly printed edition
of plays really written by Bacon but attributed to Shake-
speare would have outweighed tolerably heavy probabilities
of the a 2>osteriori sort, and the coar.se brutality of the
narrative which appeared actually to result from the appli-
cation of the suggested method would be a very strong
argument against the reality of the discovery. Yet it would
be impossible to avoid noticing evidence so curious ; and if
the case were found to be as suggested, antiquarians would
be set inquiring who might be the wretch who bad so
arranged the printing of the folio that it contained evi-
dence injurious to the reputation alike of J 'aeon and of
Shakespeare. Certain that the ill-written, and in parts
perfectly loathsome, story could not be Bacon's work, who,
with all the ftiults which marred his greatness, never
did aught which could compare with the foul ofience
imputed, we might imagine some enemy alike of Bacon and
of Shakespeare venting his m.xlice and misapplying his
ingenuity and industry, to foist into a noble play his own
coarse and offensive imaginings. But the interpretation
given to the matter by Mr. Donnelly and his following no
man of sense could for a moment admit.

Fortunately we are perplexed by no such puzzle. Mr.
Donnelly's search began at the other end. He worked on
a plan which was bound to give him a cypher system
enabling him to find anything he liked in any one of
Shakespeare's plays, and in any edition on which he chose to
labour. He says, indeed, that those who speak thus of his
wonderful work have not themselves shown that such work
can be easily done. Not one of them has shown that with a
sufficient set of cipher numbers and modifiers, and a suffi-
ciently wide choice as to starting points, ways of counting,
and so forth, you can find any story in almost any printed
work, though more conveniently in a work like the folio
edition of Shakespeare, with its brackets and hyphens and
irregularities in the use of both. This, we may readily
grant, and rejoice that it is so. A man foolish enough to
waste time and ingenuity on work so worthless would be
foolish enough to believe in the results he evolved as having
a real value. But luckily such folk are few. Were it not for
Mr. Donnelly, we might have hoped that they were impossible.

Tiie way in which Mr. Donnelly has worked at his foolish
task has been quite obviously such as must inevitably lead
him to some such result as he has obtained. With the
notion that the occurrence of such words as Francis, Bacon,
St. Albones, Nicholas, &c., was to be speoi.ally noticed as
likely to suggest the key to some cipher, he counts back-
wards and forwai'ds from all such words, to tops or bottoms
of columns, beginnings of scenes, breaks in the printing,
and so forth, including and excluding in different counts the
words in brackets, counting hyphenated words as one . or
two, and otherwise v.ai-ying his count. Failing to find any
one number, as indicated in this way, he strives to limit the
numbers to which he is thus led to as small a list as pos-

sible, the device of " modifiers" helping him to make a list
which is really long enough look smaller than it is.

Now it stands to reason that a series of numbers thus
long enough to account for the occurrence of all the more
char.acteristic word-; dealt with in this initial search for
cipher numbers, must equally suflioe (or suffice even more
readily) to lead by the use of equally varied counting
methods to any word in the text of the plays which ISIr.
Donnelly ia concocting his narrative might want. Suppose
he wishes to find in the play of Henry IV., first part, folio
edition, the words " Will Shakespeare is a miserable
wretch," or " to that defect." All he has to do is to take a
concordance and find where the several words he wants
occur in the play, and then to work backwards and forwards
from each in succession with each one of his varied methods,
numbers and modifiers, until he comes on one count which
brings him to a point which he may confidently describe as
a n.atural starting point. He thus successively finds " will "
and " shakes " and " peer " — of course he has no trouble
with "is" and "a" — but the words "miserable" and
" wretch " are not to be found, for the simple reason that,
as it chances, neither occurs in the play. This, however,
is a m.atter of no importance. For " miserable " sub-
stitute " wretched," and for " wretch " substitute " fellow."
Find an effective count for each, and, lo 1 we have the
sentence, " Will Shakespeare is a wretched fellow." We
have only, then, to urge the argument from probabilities
(confident in the general ignorance of mankind about its
laws), asking what are the odds against these six words
coming out in grammatical sequence (though we know full
well that by our method they, or an equivalent set, were
absolutely certain to come out under the actual conditions),
and our case is nearly com|.)lete. We make any narrative
we like in this way, working in whatever our taste, or
absence of taste, may suggest, and tell the world that that
narrative was found in the famous folio edition of Shakes|)eare.

I have said that, in this way, our case is "nearly com-
plete." But there is still a touch to be added, by which tlie
confiding public may be more thoroughly gulled. If only it
can be shown that the numbers and modifiers we have been
obliged to use may all be represented as derived from one,
the eflfect will assuredly be decisive so far as the ignorant
many are concerned.

Now our numbers in this particular case are 505, 513,
516, 506, and 523. We have kept them carefully from
diverging too widely by the suitable choice of starting
points. The difference between the highest, 5'23, and the
lowest, 505, is only 18. If, then, we can in any way find a
set of five numbers running pretty nearly equal, but which
may by any device whatsoever be able to show differences
corresponding to those between our five numbers, we shall
be able to reduce these five different numbers to one numlier.
There are only four differences to be .accounted for, viz.,
8 (513—505), 11 (516-505), I (506 -505), and 18. Sup-
pose we can find a column, or a pige, or a scene in our play
in which there are 18 words which are in some way
distinguished from the rest — or, rather (for so much we can
surely find), suppose we examine every section, be it page,
column, or scene, fulfilling this condition — and then inquire
whether we cannot in some way separate 8, 11, and 1 of
these 18 exceptional words from the rest. The odds are
enormously in favour of our being able to do this, though
there are other devices to be tried if this one fails. (.Some of
these, indeed, Mr. Donnelly doubtless did try before trying
this one, and finding, after continued search, a case that
.suited his requirements.) The case occurs at p. 74. (That
p.age is unfortunately not in the first part of " Henry IV.,"
where Bacon, Francis. Nicholas, and other striking words
had been noted ; but I venture to say it woyild have suited

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

225

Mr. Donnelly's purpose if he had found it in " A Mid-
summer's Night's Dream " or " A "Winter's Tale.") In the
first column of p. 7-t the following words are in brackets,
" Making the winde my post-horse " and " Under the smile
of safety," or Ifn or eleven words in all, according as we
count " post-horse " as one word or two. There are six
hyphenated combinations, namely, "post-horse," " well-
knowne," " peasant-Townes," " worme-eatenhole," " smooth-
Comforts-false," and " True-wrongs " (one only of these, the
firet, falling within a bracket), so that as these 6 contain
1 4 words, we have a means of obtaining a difference of eight,
which is one of those we want. We alreadj' have eleven.
Adding these eight to the ten already mentioned we have
eighteen. Lastly, the word ''post-horse," the only hy-
phenated word within brackets, gives us the ditlerence one.
Thus we have all the differences we want, besides a few
more if we had had occa.<ion for any : — •

If all the words including the bracketed words and
regarding the h3phenated words as two or three are counted,
we have 302 words in the column. By counting the
hyphenated words as one each, we reduce the number by
eight, or to i94. Counting only " post-horse" as one, but
leaving all other hyphenated words as two or three, we
reduce the 302 words by one, or to 301. Omitting all the
bracketed words, but regarding the hyphenated words as
two or three, we reduce the number 302 by eleven, getting
291. And, lastly, if we omit all the bracketed words and
count each hyphenated word as one, we reduce the number
302 by eighteen, giving 28-t words.

Having by this artiticial arrangement (to which, were the
truth known, we have been forced after multitudinous trials
of more natural ones) obtained five numbers differing from
each other by the required numbers, we make a fine show
by setting these five numbers under the other five already
known to differ by the self-same amounts (for what else
were we looking?), and showing that addition gives equiva-
lent totals (as, of coui-se, it cannot fail to do), thus —
302 294 .301 291 284

505 513 506 516 523

807 807 807 807 807

We might now describe the number 807 as the master
number or cipher-key. But it happens that there is a
"modifier" 29 as yet not accounted for, which we may as
well work into our cipher-key. What is to prevent us
from adding 29 to SU7, and calling 836 the master number
of the cryptogram ? Nothing except the necessity of first
finding the number 83G somewhere or other. But we am
find it a dozen times over, if we only look for it with suffi-
cient resolution. If we cannot get it in a page or scene, we
can take some word which we may regard as striking —
"found," for example — and counting backwards and for-
wards 830 words from that with suitable selection of the
method of counting (that is including or rejecting bracketed
words as may be convenient, and also as may be convenient
counting hyphenated words as one or two, we are bound to
come out in one or other of at leiist eight methods of count-
ing available, at some point which we may insist on regard-
ing as obviously an intended starting-point. If we find
that by leaving out bracketed words and counting hy-
phenated words we can reach a convenient starting-place,
we can then find how many words the same starting-place
will give if bracketed words are all counted and hyphenated
words dealt with as if there were no hyphens. Say the
number is 900 ; then we can find some other use for this
number, and we can, moreover, make quite a point of the
remarkable circumstance that 900 exceeds 83G by exactly
the number of bracketed words and of hyphenated words
counted in one case to make 900 and left uncounted in the

other to make 836. All this will be very impressive — to
the reader, at least, who has been deteired by the array of
numbers from paying any siiecial attention to the way in
which the numbers have been obtained. Anyone who has
attended will see that nothing else could happen.

But while Mr. Donnelly is very careful to hide from his
followers the simplicity of the plan by which he has been
able to work his own self-reading narrative into the play
selected for defilement, he not less carefully avoids the dis-
cussion of the overwhelming difficulty of the task he
supposes Bacon to have accomplished.

The very ease of Donnelly's task results from the com-
plexity of the system he imagines, and the consequent
divereity of the paths of interpretation open to him. Yet
he would have us believe that a long story has been inter-
woven in this mo t complicated fashion into a particular
edition of a play which had been already _/?i,'e times printed.
The folio text was printed from that of the fifth quarto,
published in 1613. Now if any one wdl examine that
quarto, and conceive himself planning a reprint with a
story to be woven in on some complicated cipher-system,
without departing in any assential respects from the quarto
edition, he will in a few minutes perceive that the task
would be not merely ditficult, it would be absolutely im-
possible. If Bacon besides his own undoubted mental
powers had possessed the creative power of a Shakespeare,
while instead of being essentially unmathematical he had
possessed the combined mental powers of all the mathe-
maticians who have ever lived, even then had been ham-
pered by the conditions imagined by Mr. Donnelly, he could
not have wrought a sentence of twenty words, nay, nor of
ten or five, into an edition differing so little from the fifth
quarto as does the folio text of " Henry the Fourth." It is
one thing to puzzle out a cipher story from a sufficiently
voluminous collection of words ; quite a different and an
altogether more ditficult thing to bring a cipher story into a
poem, play, or other definite literary work, without inter-
fering with its congruity. But this last task, which many,
I find, imagine to be all Mr. Donnelly attributes to Bacon,
would be child's play compared with the task of so arranging
the printing of a new edition of a work already published
that a cipher story should be included in it, even one of the
simplest sort. That a man like Bacon would devote ten
minutes of his valuable time to an attempt of the sort,
when one minute would convince him of the impossibility
of the task, would be an absurd supposition, even though
the story to be wrought in were of the utmost importance.
That he would think for a single second of working in the
heap of imbecile nonsense attributed to him by ^Mr.
Donnelly, no one but a madman could imagine.

Transmigbation of Socls.— Father Alcolt nsed to say that he
remembered having lived previous to this life. The Hindoo believes
in his past as we believe in our future. This life, to a Christian, is
probation ; and that is the way he accounts for the evil in it. It is
not perfect, but it Is preparatory to the perfect. On the contrary,
the Oriental says the evil of this lite is the consequence of sin in a
previous life, and it is therefore to him the real hell. His object is
to escape from it as something that ought not to be. He is in
prison because of the past; the Christian fears he will faU into
prison hereafter. Both systems involve con^ide^able moral influence,
and, it is probable, prevent a vast amount of wrcng-doing. But
when we undertake to binge together two lives, there is consider-
able liability that any system will fall into the habit of placing
undue value on theories concerning the unknown. Father Alcott
must have had the advantage of a remarkably good memory. Will
the Occidental in the future life have no better recollection of the
present than the average Oriental has of his former life .' In the
meantime let it not be forgotten that the Apostles' Creed associates
the life everlasting with the resurrection of the body. The faithful
must not feel free to reject this and accept that part of the
Christian creed {vide Pearson on the Creed).— " The Future Life, '

226

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[A0GUST 1, 1888.

SPECTRAL MANIFESTATIONS.

N the March number of Knowledge there is an
article entitled " Have Ghosts been Seen ? " in
which the writer describes various forms and
instances of " Spectral Manifestations," and
deplores the inabilitj' of science to account for
them. The article in question describes these
phenomena as being presentiments that some-
thing of a dreadful or most impressive nature has affected
a dear friend or relative, and that they are almost always,
if not invariably, confirmed by the event ; moreover, that
these phenomena are unusual. It must be admitted that
these sti-ange visions mostly terminate in accident, sickness,
or even death ; but the writer of this knows two or three
cases where the ghostly visitor was the bearer of good
tidings.

If these phenomena were limited to dreams and unusual
noises, the difficulty of solving the mystery would not be so
far from our reach, as a too active brain would in most
cases be accountable for the former, while the latter has been
ascribed to a defect in the brain in connection with the aural
nerves ; but when we come to " Spectral Manifestations,"
how are we to account for them 1 The object of this article
is to suggest that " animal magnetism " is the agency thi-ough
which we are able to perceive these spectral manifestations.
Nature has giveu five senses to man generally, namely,
sight, touch, hearing, smell, and taste ; but to some .she has
been more lavish and has endorsed them with what is com-
monly called a sixth sense. This sixth sense is, to a certain
extent, beyond explanation ; the nearest approach we can
make is to suppose it a higher development of some of the
ordinary senses, such as touch and hearing. Persons endowed
in this way are extremely sensitive. They can often per-
ceive, if placed in a dark room, the luminous flames or
scintillations from the poles of a magnet, or fiom the
extremities, especially the fingers, of any one possessing a
highly magnetic body. These persons must not be mistaken
for cataleptic patients. The subjects we have to deal with
are healthy both in body and mind. The most important
feature of this extraordinary sensitiveness is that its
possessors are so mediumistic for mesmerism. Now let us
see what mesmerism really is.

Mesmerism, or correctly magnetism, is artificial somnam-
bulism, the latter being the natural force — hence if we
mesmerise a man we make him somnambulistic, but at the
same time subservient to our will. Science and experience
have taught us that somnambulists do not use then- eyes in
the ordinary sense when in this magnetic state — that is, as
reflectors ; the optic nerves must be requisite, but then
seemingly in conjunction with others.

These spectral phenomena are unusual ; at least, we only
occasionally hear of them ; equally rare are these cases of
persons so specially gifted. Does it not, then, appear feasible
to contend that these said persons are the only ones that
can see " spectral manifestations " 1 If it is such an
easy matter to influence their minds, and almost their
entire systems, when in the same room, may it not be
equally possible to manifest the same power from a dis-
tance. Again, when these visions appear, there is usually
something sad happening to one dear to us, and that solicits
sympathy. That is what these sensitive persons can
" feel " ; they instinctively know that this friend, say,
is in trouble, and their power of sympathy is so great that
they can often feel the pain as acutely as the individual
afilicted.

If, then, through the agency of some magnetic power it
is possible for certain .specially gifted persons to be cognisant

of a friend's sufiering — which may be occurring hundreds of
miles away — it must be the same force operating on other
nerves that enables these same persons to see " spectral
manifestations."

Charles E. Cowan.

NOTE ON TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSES.

HOPE European astronomers will not waste
time and money in attempting to visit North-
western America to see the eclipse of
January 1, 1889, for I believe that only dis-
appointment is likely to result. It is prac-
tically certain that nothing worth knowing
can be added on this occasion to what has
been learned under more favourable conditions. For the
eclipse will last but a very short time, and the sun will be
very low at evei-y American station.

I may take this opportunity of recalling the valuable
results obtained during the eclipse of July 29, 1878, when
observations were made under favourable conditions from
lofty stations. Amongst other such places Pike's Peak in
Colorado was occupied, and at heights ranging from 5,000
to 10,000 feet above the sea-level observations were made
which served to prove, what had already been recognised by
the more though tftil, that the visible extension of the corona
depends almost wholly on the clearness of the air through
which the region around the eclipsed sun is observed.

The greatt^st extension of the corona was observed by
Professor S. P. Langley, wliose drawing of the corona (made
from a station on Pike's Peak, about 10,000 feet above the
sea-level, is shown in fig. I. of the accompanying four. It
is to be noted, however, that he observed the coronal ex-
tension on the right first ; he next turned to the left
side, where the extension was greater, amounting to six
diameters of the moon ; he then looked around for rays,
jjerceiving none ; and finally he looked again carefully at the
left side, and found the extension to be now twelve diameters
on that side. He felt that his eye was at this time only
beginning to be in the right condition for recognising the
delicate light of the long radial streaks, and adds that " the
twelve diameters through which I traced " the streak on
the left " were (I feel great confidence in saying) but a
jyortion of its extent." (The italics are his.) It is clear
that the inferior extension of the ray observed on the right
corresponded with the less sensitive condition of Professor
Langley's eye when he looked at that side of the corona. It
will be observed that he assigns to it a length of more than
four diametere, the ray on the other side having an apparent
length of six diameters, as seen afterwards, and going to a
length of twelve diameters later. Had he been able to look
at the left side later he would doubtless have found, like
Newcomb, the extension on that side as great as on the
other. Of the coronal wing he did ob-serve, he says, " the
central part was brighter than the edges, which were so
difi"use as to make the determination of its boundary diffi-
cult. It was not so absolutely structureless as the zodiacal
light, perhaps, and it appeared longer in proportion to its
breadth than that, otherwise I should compare it to the
zodiacal light with more confidence than to anything else.

Several interesting views of the corona were obtained on
this occasion. Professor Newcomb, hiding by means of a
disc set on a pole a circle 1° in diameter (with the
moon in the middle), was able to trace the corona in two
long extensions, nearly coincident with the eeUptic, to a
distance of about G° from the disc on either side.
They looked, he says, very like the zodiacal light on a
reduced scale. Six degrees from the disc would be G^°

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

227

III.

I. Prof. Langley.

Drawings of the Corona, July 29, 1878.
U. Prof. Newcomb. III. Mr. Denison, IV. From the Photographs.

228

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

from the disc's centre, or at the sun's distance more than
ten millions of miles. His drawing is reproduced in fig. II.
In comparing it with the others it must be remembered that
the black disc is not the moon, but the circular screen
having an apparent diameter of 12° and nearly twice the
moon's.

Mr. Charles Denison's drawing of the corona (fig. III.)
is interesting as indicating the effect of perspective.
We see froaa it how the overlapping of the luminous
tongues of the corona produces such shapes as had seemed
perplexing in Liais's drawing. The two well-marked star-
pointed radiations seen on the left (with apices about two-
thirds of a diameter from the moon's edge) are seen not to
indicate any actual radiations having these definite shapes,
but to be jjroduced by the overlap]>ing in the visual field of
three much longer radiating beams. We may infer that in
all probability these longer beams are themselves in turn
produced b}' the overlapping of beams longer still, but too
faint to Ije separately discernible. It will be ob.served that
as thus interpreted the several outlines of these pointed
beams are in all cases real ; what is unreal is the association
of two outlines which really belong to different streamers
into the apparent outline of a .single-pointed beam.

We see no indications of the inner set of pointed beams
in fig. IV., which represents the results of photography
as employed at various stations during the eclipse of
July 1878. From this we may infer that the eye was more
sensitive to slight differences of luminosity in the coronal
beams on this occasion. The absence in the photographic
picture of some of the beams shown in Mr. Denison's draw-
ing indicates their relatively small actinic intensity. On
the other hand, the delicate curved streaks seen over the
parts of the moon's limb between the long streamers are
much better shown in the photographs than in most of the
drawings.

AN INTELLIGENT CAT.*

HISS KITTY is a favourite member of our
family, and she is possessed of .so many
graces and virtues that I am glad to bear
' 7 fe W/g B ; 'witness to her worth in a brief biography.
■V S\ y lit. Si She is an humble creature, but she lives up
fo the highest capabilities of her natui'e,
and a careful study of her ways has con-
vinred me that the "godlike reason," of which we assume
a monopoly, does not go altogether upon two legs, but
is shared, in a greater or less degree, by our four-footed
companions.

When she came to us at first Kitty was a little waif,
timid and shy, and scarcely four weeks old, and her terrified
look, as she ciept out from underneath the verandah of our
country house, told pliinly that she was conscious of hiving
come into a world where cats got fiir more kicks than
caresses. This was but natural, for only the day before she
had seen her mother slaughtered by a brute of a boy, and
had herself escaped merely because she was too young to
render her peltry of any value. We gave her food and
spoke kindly to her, but it was days before we could lure
her into the house, or induce her to accept our caresses.
She would start at the slightest sound, and slie wore a look
of constant fright, as if the tragedy of her mother's death
was continually before her. Gradually, however, the terrible
vision seemed to fade from her memory, and she became
very playful and affectionate. She would climb upon our
laps and our shoulders, and putting her soft cheek to ours,

* From an article by Edmund Kirke in the NoHh American
Ilenew.

would caress us most fondly. Her favourite station during
the day was on my writing table, where she was accustomed
to curl herself up and, when awake, to watch the movement
of my pen as it glided over the paper. She did not a])pear
to understand this at first, )iut she very deliberately pro-
ceeded to investigate the phenomenon. After watching it
one day for a time, she reached out her paw and touched
the penholder. I kept on writing, and this, I suppose, gave
her confidence, for when her paw had followed my hand
once or twice across the sheet, she clutched the pen herself
and attempted to go on with the writing. The result was
a huge blot upon the MS., at which Kitty gazed aghast for
a few moments ; then, giving me a sad look and uttering a
plaintive wail, she again seated her.self near by and looked
on in silence. Daily she came upon my table and watched
my proceedings, but never again did she volunteer to aid
me in the work of composition.

Thinking to arouse Kitty's artistic sense, I one day placed
before her a book filled with engravings of animals. She
regarded the strange creatures for awhile with some interest ;
but when I turned the page to one of the cat kind, she gave
her head a peculiar toss, by which she expresses contempt or
disapprobation, and silently walked away, thus plainly
intimating that she could distinguish between the sham
and the real. Her strongest admiration was for her beauti-
ful self, and she was, and is, the perfection of feline beauty.
She has a full, .shapely head, a rounded, graceful form, large,
dark, speaking eyes, and a clear black and white coat, as
soft and glossy as silk. While still so very young, she
never tired of gazing at herself in a glass. One day I set a
small toilet mirror upon the floor, so that she could see her
reflected image. She gazed unconcernedly upon it for a few
moments, but as .soon as she observed that the kitten in the
glass responded to her every movement she opened her eyes
wide with astonishment. Then, looking up at me inquir-
ingly, she proceeded to investigate the toilet-glass, walking
round and round it, and now and then tapping its wooden
back with her paw. When she had apparently become con-
vinced that it did not conceal her own counterpart, she
again set herself down before it and began to smooth her
coat and stroke her whiskers, all the while keeping one eye
fixed upon the reflected kitten which was performing the
same ceremonies. At last she fell asleep, and I set the glass
away upon an upper shelf in my library ; but she no sooner
awoke than she came to me, looked up at the mirror, and
by a pleading mew asked me to place it again upon the floor.
This I did day after day to the great delight of Miss Kitty,
who would sit before it for an hour at a stretch, prinking
and pruning herself like .any hum.an coquette. One day,
having a visitor, I failed to respond as promptly as usual to
her request for the glass, and -she suddenly darted into an
adjoining room, where, half an hour later, I found her
perched upon the top of a bureau, and surveying herself in
the larger glass that hung above it. She had detected the
likeness between the two mirrors. After that she never
petitioned me for the toilet-glass, for one of her commend-
able traits is never to ask of another what she can do for
herself. But even now, in mature cathood, she exhibits this
feminine vanity. Often I come upon her posed before a
mirror, and I think no four-footed creatui-e ever assumed
quite so many airs as she did a little time ago, when she first
saw upon her neck the reflection of a gorgeous leather
collar.

Until Kitty was about three months old we considered
her too young to profit much by instruction, but then my
wife set about giving her a little cat-education. She had no
difficulty in teaching her to ask for her dinner by a rub
against the table leg, and to respond by a wag of the tail to
almost any simple question. Very soon the questions, " Do

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO>ArLEDGE ♦

229

you love me ? " and " Ave you a good little Kitty 1 " were
uniformly answered bj' an energetic wave of her caudal
appendage. Her wants from tlie first she spontaneously
made known by a pull at my wife's dress, or by a peculiar
mew which has a wonderful likeness to human spesch.
From her first domestication she has slept in our chamber,
and if now and then shut out of the house when it was
locked up for the night, she would climb upon the ver.uidah
which runs along the front of our summer residence and tap
upon our window for admission. Sometimes she did this at
midnight, and we, being fiist asleep, would fail to respond
very promptly to her summons. In this event she would,
on being let in, stamp her foot upon the floor and scold
away at us for fully five minutes in a peculiar tone, a kind
of mutter that was both rapid and decided.

Among other things which my wife at this time taught
the feline ladj' was to turn somersaults upon the floor, to
play at hide-and-go-seek, and to run in a hurdle-race around
a large room. This last used to come off in the library, the
hurdles being piles of books placed at irregular intervals,
and Kitty vaulting over them in a race around the apart-
ment. At first she was lured into this performance by a
string drawn rapidly across the book-piles, but soon my wife
was able to omit this incitement, and get Kitty into the
race by merely giving her the word at starting. She
enjoyed the performance greatly, and invariably asked for it
every evening after supi)'er until she became a mother and
engrossed in the duties of maternity.

She was about a year old when this happened, and it has
seemed to develop her nature wonderfully. Ever since she
has given clear and striking proofs of that ability to com-
bine means with ends and that power of deducing one result
from another which we term " reason." Her memory also has
gi'own remarkably clear and strong, as a little incident will
illustrate. Some ladies whom she had not seen for a whole
year called upon us one day during last summer, and she at
once greeted them with eveiy sign of recognition. The
hurdle-races had been for a long time discontinued, but on
our visitors expressing a desire to again witness the per-
formance, we ranged the books around the room, and, my
wife giving the word, Kitty at once vaulted over them with
all her old agility. She had made two or three circuits of
the apartment, when she suddenly paused as if a new idea
had just struck her. Her four kittens, now about four
months old, were in the room, and they had paused in their
play to witness the performance ; and now Kitty called
them to her, and addressed them in an energetic manner.
At first they did not seem to com])rehend what she wanted,
but, taking her idea, my wife produced a string, and calling
" Little kitties," proceeded to draw it across the books in the
old manner. Instantly the kittens were after the string,
and Kitty was after the kittens, going round the room in
flying leaps, and urging them forward with cries of
encouragement. Once in a while one of the little fellows
would dodge the books, or fall out of line, and then his
mother would pause in her flight, and, cuffing his ears, force
him again into the race. Soon my wife withdrew the string,
and then they went on without it — five cats chasing one
another in a hurdle-race around the room, while we and our
guests were shouting with laughter. Often afterward the
performance was repeated, and always at its close both the
cjits and the kittens would come to us for some mark of our
approval.

Kitty has exhibited in a high degree the wonderful
instinct which guides the cat in training her young, but
she has al.so shown in their education an adaptation of means
to ends which, with neither cats nor men, is instinctive.
For instance, she would bring live mice and squirrels into
the kitchen, and, setting them free, would set her kittens

to hunting the creatures. This was instinct, but reason
came in when the mouse or the squirrel got away, and hid
behind some article of furniture, where neither cat nor
kittens could get at it. Then Kitty would ask my wife or
the servant to remove the article ; but if it happened to be
too heavy for a woman's strength — and it usually was a
large cupboard — she would come direetlj' to my " den" in
a remote part of the house, and insist upon my going at
once to the rescue.

As they grew older Kitty's progeny took to climbing, and
occasionally one of tliem would push himself upon an upper
branch of some t;ill tree, whence it dared not come down,
and where Kitty knew she could not veutui-e her own
weight in safety. On such occasions she would rush into
the house and appeal to my wife, who would call our
farmer's boy, and send him up the tree to rescue the en-
dangered kitten. Once on a time my wife could not be
found, and, after searching for her in vain, Kitty went her-
self to the barn, called the boy, and led him to the tree up
which was the venturesome kitten. The little fellows
thought it rare fun to hide away in the neai'-by woods
where their mother could not find them. To her cries for
them at such times they would pay no sort of attention ;
but they never heard my wife call " Little kitties — come
home, little kitties" but they came trooping toward the
house as fast as their little legs could carry them. Observ-
ing this, Kitty never failed to ask her aid in such circum-
stances. On one occasion all four of the kittens had dis-
appeared, and the cat and her mistress had for a consideralile
time searched for them without success in the neighbouring
bushes and undergrowth, when suddenly Kitty sprang up
a tall pine to its very top, whence she could see all the
surrounding woods. In a few moments she was down again,
and then, making to my wife a peculiar gesture of the head
by which she indicates that she desires to be followed, she
led her to a considerable distance in a direction never before
taken by the kittens, and there, perched upon the top rail
of the farm fence, were the four runaways.

Upon anotiier occasion, when the servant was absent
from the kitchen and my wife was upstairs in the most
remote part of the house, Kitty came bounding up to her,
with an urgent demand to be followed. She led her directly
to the kitchen, and there was a strange m^iu who had no
business on the premises. A hke intelligence Kitty showed
one dark and stormy night, when we had inadvertently
gone to bed leaving her out of doors. About midnight she
came to my wife's bed, woke her up and beckoned her to
follow. She led her down to the dining-room, where the
glass door, leading out upon the verandah, stood wide open.
Observing this, she had entered by tliat way, in steady of
coming, as usual, to our chamber window, and, knowing
that the door should not be left open, she gave my wife this
notice before retiring to her nightly quarters. And this
reminds me that though Kitty often makes demands upon
me in the daytime, she never wakes me at night, however
great may seem to her the emergency, and this she does
without having the least instruction on the subject. Making
not the slightest noise, she comes to my wife's side and rouses
her by springing liylitly upon the bed and gently stroking
her face, but she lets me rest'iu quiet. Siie has the good
sense to know that a man who works with brain or hand all
day should be left at night to enjoy unbroken slumber. I
could relate numerous instances similar to the foregoing, but
I have now space for only a .sad catastrophe that befell Kitty
and her little family.

The four kittens had grown to be nearly as large as their
mother, when Kitty had another litter — three little fellows.
Soon afterwards a distemper appeared which swept away
nearly all the cats in the neighliuurhood, and one after

230

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

another it carried off the four kittens. They were taken at
first with a strange drowsiness, then, after moping about
for a short while, they went off into the woods to die. This
had liappened to all the four, when Kitty was herself
taken with the distemper. Her younger kittens were
below stairs, and the first intimation that we had that she
was seized with the malady was the discovery that she had
carried the little fellows up to our chamber, and deposited
them in the drawer of a bureau which liappened to be
open. We had been fearful of this, and only the day
before had asked medical advice against such an emergency ;
and now, with the medicines in our hands, we hastened to
the woods, where we knew she had secreted herself. After
a long search we found her hidden away in some under-
growth, in a comatose condition, and scarcely conscious, but
still able to give a slight wag of the tail when her mistress
asked, " Are you a good little Kitty 1 " We then gave her
the proper remedies, and bore her back to the house, where
she was given every possible attention. By constant care
we managed to keep the breath of life in her body ; but she
refused all food, and for fully ten days lay in a lethargic
condition. Meanwhile her kittens had to be drowned, for
tliey were too young to take any nourishment except from
their mother. At last she came to herself, and then the
first thing she did was to go up to the bui-eau where she
had deposited her kittens, and the look of distress that came
upon her face when she discovered they were gone was
almost human. 8he mourned for them for many days, and
she would not be comforted.

After this event Kitty would scarcely let her mistress go
out of her sight. Ever since she has clung to her with a
strange tenacity, and day by day has shown for her a con-
stantly growing affection that is most remarkable. It was
on this account that we this autumn brought her with us
when we moved into our winter home, instead of leaving
her, as heretofore, with the farmer at our summer residence.
She has adapted herself to her new home, and to the change
from country to city life, with a readiness that entirely dis-
proves the common opinion that cats are more attached to
places than to persons.

LIFE IN OTHER WORLDS.

T is not general!)' noticed, I think — or rather it
is not generally remembered — that the ques-
tion of life in other worlds belongs altogether
to modern times. I do not say it belongs to
modern science, for in reality it is not a
.'scientific question at all, belonging rather to
the domain of philosophy than of science.
But it never was discussed as a question either of science or
philosophy until some three hundred years ago. Before
that time men no more imagined that besides our earth
there may be other worlds, like her the abode of thousands
of races of animal life, and myriads of forms of vegetable
life, than they conceived the possibility that the earth, the
heavens with all their thousands of stars, with the sun the
glory of day and the moon the light of night, were intended
for any other purpose than to adorn and benefit the earth.
The supposition that among the orbs in the heavens there
might be some akin to the earth in character and dimen-
sions, or even much larger than her, while the fixed stars
themselves might belong to an even higher order in the
scale of creation — being suns like our own and the centres
of families of worlds akin to the solar system — would have
seemed wild and fanciful in the extreme.

We find the same ideas in this respect, whether we

examine those parts of ancient literature which have been
gathered together into a book regarded as sacred, or those
other portions which are called profane — the recondite
reasons for which distinction do not concern us here.

In Hesiod, Herodotus, and Thucydides, Virgil and Horace,
as in the ancient Egyptian, Assyrian, Indian, and Chinese
records, we nowhere recognise a trace of any idea that our
earth is not the only world. Rej^eatedly we find references
to other races of beings than men, gods and goddesses, beings
angelic and beings demoniac, unseen beings having their
abodes in the mountain, the sea, and the rivers, dwelling in
trees and ia animals ; in fine, wherever the lively fancy of
the child man could conceive them. It was not for want of
imagination that the ancients failed to picture other worlds
in the planets and other suns in the stars ; it was simply
that they knew of nothing to .suggest the thought, and in
like manner in the various books, both of the Old Te.stament
and the New, there is no suggestion of other worlds. Sun
and moon are pictui'ed as made for the earth's sole benefit.
" He made the stars also " for the earth alone, " to be for
signs " (in the astronomical sense) " and for seasons and for
days and years." The possibility was not even thought of
that our earth is an orb moving in the skies of other worlds
as Jupiter and Saturn, Venus, Mars, and Mercury move in
ours, or that the sun which rules our day is one among those
other suns, " the stars also," which shine in the .skies of the
thousands of worlds within such distances from our system
that our sun is as a star foi- them.

I know it has been suggested that where, in the Bible,
reference is made to " the host of heaven," the suns and
worlds peopling space may be inferred to. But the best
proof that this is not so is that the words were never so
understood, nor was any suggestion ever made that they
should be so understood, until discoveries had been effected
of which neither the writers nor the readers of those words
in ancient times had any inkling. It is but a feeble way
of defending those ancient writers from purely imaginary
discredit for not knowing what they could not know, to
maintain that they could not write so as to be rightly under-
stood. Manifestly, however, their writings corresponded
(in this respect as in all others) with the condition of know-
ledge as it existed in their day.

It could not be until the Copernican theory had been
established that the idea should begin to gi-ow upon the
minds of the more thoughtful that since our earth is but
one of the sun's family of planets, she is probably but one
among God's worlds. Of course this idea ought logically to
have found favour at once. Yet I apprehend that no one
who has noticed how slowly even in these scientific days
the consequences of newly discovered truths are appreciated,
will be disposed to wonder that many years passed before
even Copernicans began to admit the doctrine of other worlds
than ours. It was not until the power of measuring the
solar system, and comparing the various planets together
and with the earth, that men began clearly to perceive our
earth's position as but one among a family of orbs, some of
which, indeed, are smaller than herself, but two of which
could be seen even in these days to be very much larger.
Even if they had supjiosed our earth to be priiims inter pares,
they would still have been obliged to regard the others as
in all probability akin to her. But when she was perceived
to be neither first nor last in size and importance, the more
thoughtful perceived the absurdity of regarding her as the
only one among the planets which is the abode of life. An
insect living in a tree in the midst of a forest might as
reasonably think his tree the only possible home for insect
race.

As astronomers penetrated more and more profoundly
into the depths of space, the belief in other worlds and other

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

231

suns naturally became more certain and more general. As
they studied the members of the solar system with the
telescope, they began to recognise features of resemblance
between other planets and the earth, which confirmed them
in the opinion that all the planets are worlds. With grow-
ing knowledge the doctrine of life in other worlds grew in
iavour and in interest. Christian Iluyghens spoke earnestly
in its favour. Fontenelle was enthusiastic in urging it ;
writers like Drs. Dick and Clhalmers gave to it an almost re-
ligious colouring ; and at last when Dr. \Vhewell, after advo-
cating the doctrine of other worlds in his contribution to the
" Bridgewater Treatises," called it seriously in question in
his " Plurality of Worlds," the venerable Brewster (Sir
David of that ilk) was moved in bis wrath to denounce the
Master of Trinity as one who strove to shake men's faith in
a doctrine which he described as " the hope of the philo-
sopher and the faith of the Christian."

The subject had reached this position when I was led to
take it up, not — let me admit now — for its own sake, but as
a convenient subject with which to associate the results of
scientific researches which I could in no other way bring
before the notice of the general reading public. That the
subject, though not scientific, and though for my own part
I had been rather wearied by the over-warm discussions of
Whewell and Brewster, has an attraction of its own, is well
shown by the circumstance that though I had a strictly
scientific purpose in writing my " Other Woi-lds Than
Ours," I became quickly interested in the philosophic pro-
blem with which 1 had ostensibly undertaken to deal.

I think I was the first to recognise the change which the
researches of the last half century or so should introduce
into our ideas I'especting other worlds. So long as men
recognised the past of the earth and of the solar system as
measurable by a few thousand of years, it was natural that
they should regard the planets as simply a family of worlds,
all in the same stage of world life. Their view of the solar
system may be compared to the view we should take of a
plant;ition known to be but a few years old, in which we
should exiiect to find no marked varieties uf age or con-
dition among the trees — supposed all to be of one kind.
But precisely as one who appro.ached a portion of " the
forest primeval " would expect to find, even among trees
of the same order, all varieties of age, the seedling, the
sapling, the tree growing old and decayed, and the dead and
withered stump, so, recognising, as science now does, that
the age of the solar system must be measured by tens if not
by hundreds of millions of years, we must admit the
probability, one may faii-ly say the certainty, that we shall
find in that system every stage of orb life — from those orbs
which being very large and massive have passed through
but a small proportion of their exceedingly long lives, to
those which being much smaller have passed to their mid
career or onward even through the whole of their lives to the
condition of planetary death.

I did not myself perceive this truth as distinctly as I
have just presented it. A long time passed before I saw
that the larger orbs must be the younger and the smaller
the older, unless (as in some few cases may have happened)
some great diflference in the time of beginning orb life may
have caused a smaller but later-starting orb to be at this
present time younger than a somewhat larger planet.
(Saturn, for example, appears to be younger than Jupiter,
though being smaller he might be expected to be somewhat
more advanced in planetary life ; but in the fulness of time,
I know not how many millions of years, Saturn will advance
beyond Jupiter in development, even as our earth has long
since passed both, and as the moon has long since passed the
earth.) When first the thought presented itself to me that
in the solar system there must co-exist many ditlerent -stages

of orb life, I saw it simply in that general way, and had no
idea of the harmonious series into which I should later be
able to arrange the various oibs attending on the sun.

So .soon, however, as the connection between size and
relative age is perceived, we see at once that the vaiious
orders of bodic.? within the .solar system can be clas.sificd
according to the several stages of orb life which they may
be expected to illustrate, and that as a matter of fact they
seveially present the characteristics which we are thus led
to expect. The largest orb of all — the sun— represents the
first or glowing vaporous stage, the babyhood of orb life;
the giant planets, Jupiter and Saturn, present all the
characteristics of the second or fiery stage; the earth cer--
tainly, and Venus probably, present the characteristics of
mid life ; old age is recognised in Mars and Mercury ; and,
finally, the death stage is presented in the arid and desolate
surface of our companion planet, the moon.

For a long time I was content with the advance (for such
it seems to me) beyond the old-fashioned view. So soon as
we recognise that the life-bearing .stage is but a part, and it
may be but a small part of an orb's careei-, we find a new
meaning given to the universe of suns and solar systems.
An extension of our ideas in regard to time, in some degree
akin to the extension which they had already received in
regard to space, is thus obtained. Doulitless it was a grand
and impressive thought in old times to recognise each orb in
the solar system as in the fulness of its life-bearing career,
and to extend the same idea to the star-depths in such sort
that each sun might be regarded as the centre of a solar
system, each member of which, save the central orb, is now
an abode of life. Yet is there in this view, which presents
the whole universe as the scene of omnipresent life, a certain
element of bitterness. Sunjit amari illiquid. Before those
midtitudinous orbs became the abode of life there would
have bten universal lifelessness ; and after they cease to be
inhabited or fit for habitation (and no created thing can
endure for ever) there will be universal death. But accord-
ing to the view which I have suggested (the view, be it
remembered, to which all the evidence points), though the
number of habitable orbs be greatly diminished, it yet
remains to all intents and purposes infinite, while, instead of
regarding the duration of life in the univers'e as finite, we
can perceive that it is eternal in time, even as it is infinite
in spatial extension. For if, when we look at any star we
infer, from what we know about our own star — the sun —
and his family of attendant orbs, that at least one member
of that star's family is the abode of life like our earth,
at least one has been the abode of life in the past, though
now dead like the moon, while at least one, like the giant
Jupiter or his brother Saturn, though not yet the abode of
life will become so hereafter, then repeating that lesson for
all the stars visible to the naked eye, telescopic, or (far past
telescopic range) visible in the mind's eye, we may say :
There in those depths are millions, ten hundred thousands
of millions of orbs the abode of life now, as many that were
the abode of life millions of years ago, as many that will be
the abode of life hereafter.

But while thLs extension of the old-fashioned views is
impressive in it.self and amply justified by the evidence
from analogy, sufficient account is not taken of all the
features of variety and of actual diflferenco which dis-
tinguish planet from planet (even within our solar system)
and sun from sun within the sidereal system. It is as
though an insect after studying from within its own free
home the various trees thence discernible in the forest,
should have come first to the conclusion that other trees
besides its own are the abode of life, and next, that .some
trees are much younger than its own tree home, and may
therefore be quite unfit as yet to be inhabited by insect

2R2

♦ KNOAATLEDGE ♦

[August 1, IBUS

races, while others are too old, or may even be hut dead and
withered stumps. This would be a decided advance upon
that insect's former view ; but it would be insufficient if the
insect stop])ed just there. After a while the more thought-
ful among the insect inhabitants of that tree would perceive
that among the trees in the forest there were not only many
that differed from its own tree liome in being older or
younger, but many which actually differed from it in kind,
never resembling it closely in any one of the stages of their
tree growth. The insect inhabitants of the tree would then
perceive that trees thus differing from their tree home in
nature were not probably suitable abodes for the same forms
of life, or might even be obviously and demonstrably
unsuited for kindred insect races. Extending to the solar
system and its fellow systems the idea thus suggested only
as a ])arable, the life-history of orbs, different orders must
in all probability be entirely distinct, even though all pass
through the same general stages of orb life.

For instance, the sun, regarded as an orb, is in that
glowing, vaporous stage, which, in the earth's case, signitied
infancy. Yet, as regards his work as a supporter of life, our
sun is in the ^ery fulness of his career. He may quite
jjossibly have no other special work to do in orb life ; and
after he has passed that stage when an orb is still instinct
with its primeval heat and glows with its primeval lustre,
he may remain a mass of idle matter, not himself the abode
of life like our earth, nor any longer nourishing life in other
worlds, as he did when in his prime.

Again, it may be that the giant planets, Jupiter and
Saturn, are doing the best part of their life-work, if not
practically the whole, in the ]5i'esent stage of their career.
Unfit now to be inhabited worlds, they may ever lemain so ;
or the time when living creatures could exist upon their sur-
face may correspond to a time when the sun will have lost
its light and heat, and when, therefore, existence would be
impossible on the surfaces of any one among the giant
planets.

We have at least as much reason for supposing that when
our earth was in sun like stage of her career, or later when,
in the fiery stage, she resembled Jupiter or Saturn, she did
work such as the sun now does, or performed such duties as
Jupiter or Saturn may discharge to their attendant -tt-orlds,
as we have for supposing that when the sun or Jupiter
becomes as cool as the earth, they will be inhabited by
ci-eatures suitable to the condition which will then exist
upon those respective orbs.

With regard to orbs like INIars and the moon, which are
old or to all intents and purposes dead, we, doubtless, are
justified in assigning to them, as the probable period of their
life-bearing career, the time when tliey resembled tlie earth
in condition more nearly than they do now. Yet, though
orbsof both classes probably passed through such a life-bearing
stage, it is unlikely, nay, practically impossible, that either
can have resembled the earth closely at any time. It is not
merely that the duration of the life-bearing stage on our
moon, for example, must have been much less than that of
the corresponding stage on the earth, but that the various
conditions essential to life as we know it upon the earth
cannot have existed at one and the same time upon the
moon. When the moon's crust was like our earth's in regard
to heat, volcanic activity, and so forth, the air and water
must have been much less in relative amount, and such life
as may then have been present on the moon must have
existed under conditions very different from those now
existing on the earth. On the other hand, when the lunar
atmosphere was as dense as the earth's atmosphere now is,
its constitution must have been very different, for that
period corresponded to a much earlier stage of orb life ; at
that time also the moon's surface would have been greatly

too hot to be the abode of living creatures such as we are
acquainted with on earth

Eecognising, as we now do, the general principles at least
on which the evolution of animal and vegetable life pro-
ceeds, we can infer that even if the first forms of life on
Mars, on Mercury, or on the moon were, or those on Jupiter
and Saturn will be, akin to those on the earth — which is
antecedently unlikely — yet the orders of animal and vege-
table life developed on those other worlds could not but be
utterly unlike those v.hich, during the many million of
years of her past life, have been developed on the earth.
Perhaps on a much shorter-lasting planet like the moon the
highest orders of life developed were altogether inferior to
those developed on the earth. Perhaps on much longer-
lasting planets like Jupiter and Saturn much higher types
of life will be developed than have ever been developed on
our planet. However this may be, whether the best types
developed elsewhere have been or will be superior or inferior
to those developed on the earth, this at least is certain —
they must be very diflferent. Life, animal as well as
vegetable, in other worlds than ours, must be infinitely
varied.

THE MORDEY ALTERNATOR.

HE machine which is illustrated by the
accomjianying views is being brought out
by the Anglo-American Brush Electiic
Light t!orporation. Limited, for use in con-
nection with distribution on the ti-ansformer
system. It is one of a new type, and
possesses .several advantages of practical

importance, and it is quite a new departure in dynamos.

It is the invention of Mr. W. M. Mordey, and gives

Fig. 1.— Armature of Alteenatoe.

an output of .3.5,000 to 40,000 watts, the terminal poten-
tial diff'eience being l',000 volts. The speed is (!50 revolu-
tions per minute. Fig. 1 shows the armature, which is
stationary, and consists of a number of coils of narrow
copper ribbon, wound on cores of non-conducting material.
Some detached coils are shown. Each coil is bolted at the
broad end between two brackets, the ends of the conductor

August 1, 1SS8.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

233

being brought out through porcelain insulators. The
brackets are then bolted to the gun-metal supporting ring,
the coils being thus rigidly and securely held in position by
metal supports, which in no part come between the poles,
and are, in fact, almost entirely out of the magnetic held.
By this me;xns eddy currents are almost entirely avoided,
any loss from this cause being still further reduced by the
use of CJerman silver for the brackets and bolt^^ ; the high
resistance of this alloy preventing the generation of local
currents of more than a very small amount. The gun-metal
supporting ring, which is bolted to the bed-plate of the
machine, is in two portions, being divided in a vertical
diametrical Hue. These two parts, after having received the
coils, are bolted together and to the bed-plate, the tield
magnet being tirst placed in position. It will be seen that
this design provides ample fiicilities for repairs. It allows
not only of single coils of the armature being quickly and
easily removed and replaced, but also renders it easy to take
out one half or the whole of the armature. We need not
say that it is of the first importance in all elejtric lighting
work, especially for central stitions, that the machinery

may be dispensed with, and the exciting coil as well as
the armature may be stationary; but it is preferable, for
mechaniail reasons, to attach the winding to the rotating
magnet. As will at once be seen, this form of field magnet
is very simple. A single exciting coil suthces for a machine
of any size, speed, or number of alternations. Besides its
pecuharity of form, it differs from the usual arrangement
in that it has poles of one sign only on each side of the
armature ; thus the magnetic leakage between adjacent
poles on each side is absolutely yiil, a condition widely
different from that of machines having the usual arrange-
ment of alternate polarities, in which the leakage is very
considerable. By revolving the field magnet instead of the
more delicate armature, safety and steadiness of running are
secured, the heavy magnet acting as an excellent flywheel,
and effectually neutralising any pulsations due to irre-
gularity in the stroke of the engine. This is a point of
some moment where slow speed engines are used. Further,
as the parts revolving at the highest velocity are simple
solid iron masses of the strongest description (not laminated),
not subject to heating, and having no copper wire on or

Fig. 2.— Field Magnet

should be planned, not only with a view to the prevention
of a breakdown, but also to" permit of any necessary repairs
being quickly carried out, and it will be seen that in this
armature both these ends have been very satisfactorily
attaine.d.

The field magnet (fig. 2) cannot be said to bear any re-
semblance to any form of field magnet with which electric
engineers are familiar. It consists of a single electro-maguet
built up as follows :— A short cylinder of iron, through the
axis of which the shaft passes, forms the core of the mignet,
and is wound with the exciting coil. Against each end of
this cylinder Ls placed a cast-iron piece of peculiar form,
which will be best understood from fig. 2. Each casting
has a number of horns or arms — nine in the machine illus-
trated—which radiate from the shaft and central part of the
casting, and then bend over, forming nine pole pieces on
each side of the armature. These horns on one side, as will
be seen, approach within a very short distance of those on
the other side of the armature, and in this very narrow
polar gap or slit the armature is held, the entire field magnet
revolving with the shaft on which it is mounted. The ends
of the exciting coil are connected to " collector " riuK on
the shaft, which are shown to the right of the figure. These

iloRDEV .Vlti:exatoe.

near to expand and fly out, the electrical and mechanical
considerations which in ordinary dj'namos usually renders
low speed advisable do not here ajjply. The armature being
stationary, the coils have to be supported onlj' with a view
to resisting the tangential drag of the field. This renders
insulation a matter of comparative simplicity, and is of gi-eat
importance in high tension work, such as this machine is
primarily designed for.

The Mordey alternator is shown in its complete form in
fig. .3. The field magnet is almost entirely hidden by sheet
metiil shields, which have for their object the prevention of
air disturbance by the horns, which otherwise would act as
the blades of a fan, and cause a perceptible waste of power.
The fanning action is, however, permitted to a suflicient
extent to ensure good ventilation and cool working. The
armature terminals, which are not seen in the figure, are at
the upper part of the supporting ring. The thrust bearing
is adjustable longitudirually foi the purpose of enabling the
field to be placed exactly symmetrical with regard to the
armature.

Fig. i shows also the little Victoria dynamo used as an
exciter, and a small adjustable resistance, which is all that
is required for regulation. The alternator is, in fact, very

234

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[August 1, 1888.

nearly self-regulating in itself, as is shown by fig. 5, giving
the characteristic of the machine throughout a range of
37,000 watts. From tliis curve, it is clear that practically

Fig. 3. — MoEDEY Altehnatok (Complete).

the whole of tlie load — or say 600 larups — might safely be
turned off without danger to any remaining lamps, and that
probably a large proportion of the load, certainly 50 per

ti:

cent., could be turned ofl" without attracting notice on the
rest of the circuit. It is, therefore, not considered neces-
.sary or desirable, except under special circumstances, to
provide other than a simple hand regulation at the dynamo

VcUsiocc

-I--:

^^M

J.L

;;i:::;::-;;i::;;i:i;;E^:;

COTLS \aJlt SpCtf I:

10

Fic. 5.

i^O Amperes

for the purpose of controlling the potential difference.
Sudden and violent fluctuations of the lights are impossible
with this machine, and an occasional touch of the resistance

regulator, as the load comes on or off, meets all practical
requirements. It is only in the case of machines whose
potential curve is a rapidly falling one that it is necessary
to resoi't to automatic control. There is no doubt that by
avoiding the use of additional apparatus of this sort the
chances of temporary interruption are reduced. By the
arrangement of the armature coils it is easy to obtain
various coaibinations if desired. This circumstance is made
use of for simplifying the measurement of the potential.
Instead of taking the reading across the terminals, which
would necessitate the use of an electrometer, or a very high
resistance voltmeter, an ordinary voltmeter, indicating to
100 or 150 volts, is jjlaced across one of the coils. The
machine is fitted with a special pair of voltmeter terminals
for this purpose. We understand that this dynamo of
50 to 60 horse-power — the first of its type — was successfully
built directly from the first design, without recourse to any
preliminary experiment.

LOCKYER ON THE EARTH'S
MOVEMENTS.*

A 8TEANGE PUZZLE.

ESSES. MACMILLAX have never been
given to the publication of jocular scien-
tific books, or we might explain this work
as simply an elaborate jest. We cannot,
on the other hand, suppose that, though
published in all good faith as a serious
work by them, it was intended as a jest by
Mr. Lockyer, for he could not wilfully play off such a joke
on his good friends, the publishers of Xaturr. Yet he can-
not seriously regard this absurd production as a contribu-
tion to exact knowledge. It is true his "Elementary
Lessons in Astronomy" contained some marvellous blunders,
a few of the least preposterous of which were used in
astronomical examinations at Trinity College, Cambridge,
in the character of '•' awful examples," and in his " Primer
of Astronomy " he made some still odder mistakes — as, for
instance, in describing the stars which pass to the zenith of
London, which never rise or set at all, as rising and setting
" on a slant." But even this evidence that Mr. Lockyer
might not be able to recognise the full absurdity of what he
has brought out in the book before us does not prevent its
being a strange puzzle. For surely some friend, were it
only a well-taught schoolboy, might have been able to
explain to him that a book which, with an elaborate air of
condescension for the general reader, is utterly inaccurate,
confusing, and misleading, should not be sent to the
printers.

It chances that we have had to conduct examinations of
students in astronomy, with the duty of determining who
had done best and best desei'ved certificates or other rewards.
In so doing we have sometimes felt appalled at the bewil-
derment of mind indicated in replies which related to
matters explained with ample clearness in the text-books
recommended by us, besides being most carefully, and as we
had hoped simply, explained by ourselves in preparatory
lectures. Well, we find again and again in Mr. Lockyer's
book passages recalling answers of this saddening kind — -
saddening, yet sometimes so ludicrous that we have had to
set down the papers we were examining to indulge in pro-
longed laughter at their absurdity.

Of course the whole book is not absurd. We come across

* " Outlines of Physiography. The Movements of the Earth.'
Jos. N. Lockyer. London : Maomillan & Co.

By

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

235

explanations which are perfectly correct, heing, La fact, only
altered in a few words from an explanation given by
Newcomb or Airy, or others who understood what they
were explaining. Again, many of the illustrations are
excellent, being, in fact, those provided to accompany correct
explanations in books worth reading. But the trouble is
that the re:ider, who is also a learner, can never be quite
sure whether what he is reading is a correct and well-
iUustrated explanation borrowed from an able astronomer,
or sheer nonsense which he should forget quam celerriine.

It is a duty which we owe to the honest student of astro-
nomy to say so much as may keep him from wasting his
time over this most remarkable production. We have not
time to indicate all the passages which are incorrect or
absurd ; neither would it be fair to those writers whose
correct statements have bsen repeated, to show how by
eliminating such and such portions (all Mr. Lockyer's
original work, we suspect) their good explanations would
remain (little impaired by verbal changes) with their excel-
lent accompanying illustrations.

The fairest course seems to be to give a few samples,
takea absolutely unchanged from ISlr. Lockyer's book
(though many will find it hard to believe as much), to show
that we have not exaggerated either the condescending tone
of the work, or the utter inanity of the original (indeed,
highly original) matter.

In the following passage, Mr. Lockyer opens his explana-
tion of the apparent motion of the star-sphere : —

Suppose that ia the centre of a lecture-theatre a Utile globe were
hung to represent the earth, the walls oE the theatre and the people
in it representing the heavens surrounding the earth. In such a
case it is clear that the appearances presented would be the same
whether the heavens moved round the ear;h, or the earth itself
were endowed with motion. Let us, without making the assertion,
assume that the earth does move. It is perfectly obvious, since the
apparent motions of the heavens are so regular, that it that be so,
she must move with wonderful constancy and regularity ; she does
not first move in one direction and at one inclination, and then at
another ; that would be very serious.

If she rotates she must rotate round some imaginary line called
an axis. This introduces an important consideration, because,
whether the earth itself rotates on an axis, or the heavens move
round the earth — and in the latter case the heavens must also move
round an axis — in either case the motion must be an equable one,
so that if the matter is thus limited to a constant axial rotaiion, or
a constant revolution as it would be called in the case of the stars,
several things will happen.

And so the explanation maunders on.

Here is another exquisite bit of " explanation " : —

If we assume the earth to rotate, we mast carefully consider the
varj'ing conditions which are brought about by the different
positions of an inhabitant of the earth under those circumstances.
For instance, take the case of a man at the equator : he looks at
things from an equatorial point of view, and in the rotation of the
earth he plunges straight up and straight down.

Having in the fashion thus illustrated " explained " the
apparent daOy motion of the stars, Mr. Lockyer proceeds
to explain their apparent diurnal motion. Here is the
" explanation " : —

The same difficulty that was met with before is again encountered
here — Is this movement of the sun among the stars a real or an
apparent one ? It is a question, however, which has been long since
answered ; and it can be very definitely stated, not only that the
earth rotates on its axis in a period of twenty-four sidereal hours,
but that it moves or revolves round the sun in a period which we
call a year, and that it is this real movement which causes the ap-
parent one of the sun among the stars. Let the reader take a top
and spin it. Perhaps the top has a movement of progression as well
as a movement of rotation, and it is in that way quite easy to see
that the earth may rotate on its axis and revolve about the sun at
one and the same time. And with a top of special construction its
axis of rotation might be inclined so that its plane of rotation
ceased to coincide with the plane of its motion of progression ; still

the two mavements would go on, and in whatever position the top
might be placed, its axis might be made to remain practically
parallel to itself during its movements. We may now, then [oh,
this OTKrf be a joke !], make the following statements: — T/ie earth
7'crali'es round the sun, and t/irougliout the revolution the axis of
rotation remains practicallij parallel to itself. With regard to the
latter part of this statement, it may be added that if this were not
so — if the axis of the earth were subject to perpetual change of
direction — the declinations of the stars would also be subject to
constant change.

Finally, here is a passage from Mr. Lockyer's explanation
of the aberration of the fixed stars : —

In the case of the majority of the stars what we get is an ellipse,

and in an ellipse we have certain differences which have to be taken
into account, the last difference of all being that an intiniteiy
elongated ellipse is a straight line, and it is found that from one
particular point of the heavens where, in consequence of this
aberrational motion, the orbits of the stars round their mean places
are almost circular, we at last get to a point where the motion is
simply an oscillation of the star backwards and forwards to and
from its mean place : we are dealing, in fact, with that projection
of the ellipse which takes the form of a straight line. Wtien we
deal with an ellipse we no longer talk of the radius, but of the
semi-axis major, which is half the greatest length. The angle of
aberration of which I have spoken only amounts to 20"'492, but
though small, it is quite enough to prove that the earth does re-
volve, and that consequently the sun is the centre of the system to
which the earthbelongs.whileit further tells usthat the movement of
the earth is slow compared with that of light.

Ltickily no reader is likely to suppose he is really getting
any explanations in such passages as these.

By Eichard A. Proctor.

IIessrs. Maunder & Knobel desire to have it explained
that the unnamed " Professor " referred to in " Gossip " for
April did not appeal to them, as I had surmised and naturally
(almost necessarily) beheved — see p. 138 — to announce
(in a magazine which I was certain not to see and almost
certain not to hear of) that I had not actively assisted his
election to the Foreign Associateship of the Royal Astro-
nomical Society. They did this thing of their own accord,
not at the " Professor's " instigation at all. I willingly
accept and publish their contradiction of my most natural
mistake. They agree in speaking of this mistake as
injurious; but without explaining how or why it was
injurious, or whom it could possibly injure. It could not
injure their protege, he being past that; and though cer-
tainly it ought not to be pleasing to them to be supposed to
be in correspondence with him, they had published more
than that about themselves in the very letters on which I
commented.

* * *

TiiE case was simply this — Messrs. Knobel & Maunder
chose on partial information, amazingly misunderstood, to
interfere in a matter in which they had no sort of concern,
undertaking to contradict what I had not said and what a
moment's reflection should assure any honest mind that I
could not have intended to say. (Mr. Maimder admits in
a letter from which, though marked " private," I am entitled
in self-defence so f;xr to quote, that when the complete cor-
respondence, of which he and Mr. Knobel had seen only
part, was before him, the impression he had formed of my
meaning was "proved not to be the one I intended to con-
vey " ; and I maintain that even with the one letter he had
seen mv meaning should have been as clear as day to him
and to Mr. Knobel.) For reasons best known to them-
selves they selected as a suitable place for the attempted
injury to me a magazine which I never see, as they can

236

* KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888,

scarcely but know. Yet rather than attribute to them
either (1) deliberate unfairness, or (2) -wilful misrepresenta-
tion, or (3) gross blundering, or (4) inability to appreciate
the rules which customarily guide men of honour, I
generouslj- took it for granted that they had been misled by
a person known to have striven by untruths to injure
another, and therefore unquestionably capable of untruth
for his own benefit. It appears that T was altogether mis-
taken, so that one or other of the four explanations which
alone I'emained available must be accepted. I am sorry for
this. But my sorrow is by no means apologetic. It signifies
rather my strong feeling that an apology is due to mj-self.

* * *

On the other hand, I am glad to find that I was not
right in supposing that Mr. Fraser — (see Knowledge for
June, pp. 180, 187) — had any thought of attributing unfair-
ness, either to myself or to the author of the criticism to which
he objected. I still think that Air. Fraser was wrong in
writing as he did, but I withdraw all that in my remarks
about him went be3'ond that.

* * *

With regard to his heat theory of gravity, Mr. Fraser
writes to me admitting that if the instantaneous action of
giavity is proved the heat theory fails. But he asks
whether the instantaneous action is proved 1 May not '• the
obstruction from meteoric gas and other matter in inter-
planetary space neutralise the acceleration which would be
caused by the non-in.stantaneity of gravity " ? I have
never had much liking for the " may not " style of argu-
ment ; but in presence of the absolute perfection with
which all the planetary movements are explained, when
gravity is assumed to be practically instantaneous, the
suggestion that the various measuralile departures from
perfect agreement necessarily arising if gravity travels no
I'aster than heat are all exactly corrected by the resistance
of meteoric gas is too wild to be admitted for a moment.
It would scarcely be less reasonable to suggest that gravity
has no existence at all, but that the .several planets are all
kept in their proper paths l)y the resistances of meteoric
gas and other matter in interplanetary space. The theory
of gravity is regarded as established because it accounts in
quantity and quality for all the movements of all the
heavenly bodies. If all we could say of it was that possibly,
were all the conditions known, gravity might be found to
explain the planetary movements, the astronomy of to-d,ay
would be where astronomy was in the days before Coper-
nicus.

Mil. Malet, the author of '• Sunlight," has not written to
me complaining about the criticism of his p.aradox — or,
rather, his letters, though addressed to the Editor, were not
forwarded to me (the said Editor) in my distant home, but
to the gentleman who criticised Mr. JIalet's speculations
about light. From what I learn about Mr. Malet's letters,
his light is wanting in sweetness.

In Pursuit r>f a Shadow. By A Lady Astronomer.
(London : Triibner & (Jo.) — Among the English astronomers
who undertook a journey to Russia to observe the total
solar eclip.se of August 19, 1887, appears to have been the
authoress of the very pleasant, chatty, and agreeable little
book before us. In company with another lady, she foced
an experience of more or less toilsome travel of between
two and three thousand miles into the heart of Kussia,

unhappily only to meet with disappointment, clouds
practically hiding the whole phenomenon from the view
of those who had come so far and toiled so bravely to view
it. But if our " Lady Astronomer " was disappointed, her
readers assuredly will not be, for it is long since we have
seen in print so readable and unafleoted an account of a.
journey through a comjiarativcly strange country as she has
given us. She tells of her voyage from Hull to Christiania,
thence to Stockholm, on to St. Petersburg, and through
Moscow to Pogost, where she was apparently the guest of
Professor Bredichin ; and whence, had the weather been
propitious, the eclipse was to have been observed. After
the disappointment of her.solf and her lady companion, she
went on to see something of the world-famed fair of Nijni-
Novgorod, and returned home via Smolensk, Warsaw, and
Berlin. All this is told in the most delightfully chatty
manner, without a tr.aco of guide-book padding, irrelevant
quotation, or any of the otiier devices by which modern
works of travel are swollen into bulky books. We can
cordially recommend this tiny volume.

Faustrestra : a Drama, with Other Poems and Essays.
By Verestra, B.Sc. (London). (Clapham : T. Fox. 1887.)
Whether the author of this ridiculous trash is simply
irresponsible for his actions, or whether ho is indulging in
some form of "chaff" too esoteric for our comprehen.sion,
we cannot take upon ourselves to determine. An extract,
taken absolutely at random from the so-called " Drama,"
may perhaps enable some more penetrating reader to divin3
which (if either) of these two hypotheies is correct : —

UNDINE.

Not to nienlion clear'}' all the
Cii'cumstances.

LADY ,TOAN.
I've lived all my
Life lonpr in ilie sacred fame nf ,
All the Virtues so to speak till. . . .

UNDINE.
Many were the escapades which
Took place in the misty shadows
Ot its aisles. I've heard about them.

LADY JOAN.
kSince you are so very le.irned
On the subject may I ask from
Whom you heard about these mighty
Escapades.

MADAM ANYBODY.
We knew about them.
W.alls have ears, you know, — You humbugged
Many — not us, though.

LADY JOAN.

It .seems you
Know more of my history than
I myself do, so you'd better
Tell it, or proceed to tell 3-our
Own ones.

The author seems to lapse into something approaching tem-
porary sanity in a concluding Essay on the Senses.

Granites, and our Granite Industries. By Geo. F.
Harris, F.G.S. (London : Crosby Lockwood & Son.
1888.) — Within the space occupied by 134 pages Mr.
Harris has contrived to convey a very large amount of
information on the subject to which his volume is devoted.
The geologist will here find an exposition of the latest
theories of the origin of granite, and the petrographer full
details of its lithological structure ; while all interested in
it, in its commercial and economical aspect, m.ay learn
whence it is obtained, and how quarried and worked. A
description of the method of turning it in the lathe, and of
the other mechanical processes by whose aid it is wrought,
form the subject of the eleventh chapter. Fifteen woodcuts
illustrate the text, and there is a very full index.

AcGusT 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

237

Ilistory of Sotilh Afnca (1486-1691). By George
McCall TnEAL. (London: Swan Sonnenschein it Co.
1888.) — Every one who wislies to understand the existing
condition of our South African colonies will derive vahiable
assistance from Mr. Theal's exhaustive history, of which the
first instalment lies before us. Beginning with the original
discovery of the Cape of Good Hope by Bartholomew Dias
in 1486, he brings his story down to the time of the rule
of Commander (eventually Governor) Van der Stel, during
whose tenure of office so considerable an emigration of the
French Huguenots occurred : the narrative terminating
with the j-ear 1691. What the rule of the Dutch East
India Company in South ^Vfrica was may be well realised
from the vivid description given by our author of the occur-
rences during the period covered by the present volume.
It obviously embodies the results of a very large amount
of research indeed, and will well repay perusal.

Facts about Ireland: a Curve-history of Recent Yeor.i.
By Alex. B. McDowall, M.A. (London : Edw. Stanford.
1888.) — In this little book Mr. McDowall has applied the
system of plotting curves, now so generally employed for
showing meteorological data gi-ajjhically, to the e.xhibition
of a variety of Irish statistics. As a rule, the years form
the abscissa' and the quantities dealt with the ordinates of
his curves, and in this fa.-hion he shows the fluctuations in
agriculture, education, crime, intemperance, emigration,
bank depiosits, and the like. The idea of thus popularising
a mass of numerical data is not a bad one.

Disease : its Prevention and Cure by Simple Xatural
Means, <L-c. By Chas. G. Godfrey. (London : H. Grevel
k Co. 1888.) — The Increa<ie of Cancer in Englftnd. By
John Francis Chirchill, M.D. (London : David Stott.)
— If Dr. Churchill's statistics are trustworthy, a most
alarming incre.ise of cancer is in progress in this country,
an increase which he traces to the reckless use in modern
therapeutics of oxidisable phosphorous compounds, whose
employment he deprecates in the strongest manner. His
remedy must be sought in his book itself. Mr. Godfrey
propo.ses to cure cancer and a variety of other diseases by
the use of dry food, by common salt, and by a very large
diminution of the amount of liquid consumed. It is piteous
to read of the death of his only daughter after he had, as
he alleges, cured her of blindness (I) by his peculiar method
of treatment.

A Fight vnth Distances. By J. J. Auberti.v. (Kegan
Paul, Trench, & Co.) — The '' distances " with which our
restless author fought within the narrow space of ten
months cover well-nigh the Xorth American Continent
and the chief W'est Indian islands. He brings himself
perilou.sly near Matthew Arnold's crowd of hurrying men
" who see all sights from pole to pole, yet never once
possess their soul before they die." The book has the
defects and merits of Mr. Aubertin's previous records of like
scampers in Mexico and South .Vfrica, but as he alwavs
adds to our store of information, and that in good-tempered,
unaffected talk, we forgive the intrusion of peddling details,
and commend the book to all lovers of travel-records,
especially to any who may be contemplating a similar trip.

Lucians Dialogues. Translated by Howard Williams.
(Bell it Sons.) — Instead of adding to the over-translated
among the ancients, Jlr. Williams has laid us under obliga-
tion by this .admiralile and much needed translation of
the more important and best-known works of the great
" Pantagruelist of Samosata." The simplicity, racinass, wit
and common sense, which are the features of the Dialogues
of the Gods and of the Dead, have not vanished in the pro-
cess of transfer from Greek to English, and we hope that

the present work will meet with success that shall

encourage Mr. Williams to give us another volume. The

translations are prefaced by an admirably full and clear
introduction, and enriched with abundant notes.

ifemory. What it is, and How to improve it. By David
Kay, F.R.G.S. (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, ik Co.
1888.) — Mr. Kay, having produced a work of high interest,
which affords evidence of extensive reading and research,
and abounds in a wealth of illustration, has made it almost
unreadable by the simple expedient of crowding almost
every page with footnotes 1 Anything more wearisome and
di.stracting we scarcely ever remember to have met with,
and the reader's irrifcition becomes greater as he often finds
the ipsissima verba of the text repeated in smaller type
below. Of course it is possible to skip these annotations,
and any one who will resolutely do so will find Mr. Kay's
volume interesting and instructive in a high degree ; but
the initial temptation to refer to them is as great as is the
annoyance incident on yielding to it. When the work
before us reaches its second edition, wo would venture to
suggest that such evidence of its author's erudition as
quotations may bs held to afford should be relegated to an
appendix, and not suffered to confuse the reader as they do
in their present position. With this emendation, we could
cordially recommend a book from which much is to be
learned of enduring value.

Game, Shore, and Water Birds of Tndid. By Colonel A.
Le Mesurier, R.E. (London : W. Thacker & Co. 1888.) —
Compact in form, excellent in method and arrangement,
and — as far as we have been able to test it — rigidly accurate
in details, Colonel Le Mesurier's book should become the
vade-mecum of every .sportsman and naturalist whom duty
or pleasure may compel to visit India. The numerous and
excellent illustrations (of which no less than 121 appear in
148 pages) render the identification of genera a matter of
great simplicity.

Restful Work for Youthful Hands. By S. F. A. Cai-l-
FEILD. (London : Griffith, Farran, Okeden, cfe Welsh.
1888.) — We grieve to have to utter anything in disparage-
ment of a little volume written with the laudable object
of showing how children in the upper and middle ranks of
life may profitably employ their spare time in benefiting
others. It is, however, rather with Mrs. Caulfeild's manner
than with her matter that we have any quarrel. The fact
is that texts and goodj-goodiness are somewhat too ob-
trusively introduced, and there can be no doubt that the
work would gain by their excision. Our own experience is
that a child like " Eose " who is always being preached and
quoted at learns at last to loathe the source of the quota-
tions rained upon her devoted head, and, as soon as she is
emancipated from the amiable and zealous fanatics who
make her a target for dischai-ging the contents of the
Scriptures at, rushes into the very extremity of worldliness.
A judicious parent might, however, teach her daughter
many valuable lessons from Mrs. Caulfeild's small book
if she would merely suppress such parts of it as labour
'' to improve the occasion."

Notes on Shakspere's " King Eenry T." By T. Duff-
Barsett. (Boll it Sons.)— Just the thing for the teacher.
Immersed in teaching, and without the time needed to
digest and arrange and tabulate the information he has
been giving to his class, here he has to his hand the points
which most of all require careful attention, and concentrated
attention if his boys are to do well at their examinations.
^Ir. Barnett is a practical teacher, and has shown as much
discretion in what he has omitted as in what he has inserted.
There is nothing in his book that a student of the play

238

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

oiu'ht to foil to notice ; and be will look in vain for the
ni -srlin" " readings " and the often ill-rewarded " see page
so and-Io " which encumber the notes of editions even so
good as those of the Clarendon Press. Mr. B.u-nett's book
will be invaluable for the local and army examinations.

Primer of German Literature. By Isabel T. Lublin,
F.E.Hist.S. " (London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co.
1888.)— Miss Lublin's work is confined to the belles-lettres,
and wholly excludes the enormous mass of scientific litera-
ture—mental, moral, and physical— so eminently charac-
teristic of the German race. Beginning with the earliest
records, our authoress gives, in the first portion of her book,
a jjrecis of every work whose fame has descended to the
present day. The latter half of the work consists of a series
of succinct biographies of all those who have enriched German
literature, with lists of the works by which they have been
chiefly distinguished. The very comprehensive character
of the volume may be gathered from the fact that it o]iens
with Ulphilas {circa a.d. 340), and concludes with Von
Eanke, who died in 1886.

The Vision of a Passion, and other Poems. By Thomas
FoLLioTT. (London : Wyman & Sons. 1887.)— The poem
from which Mr. Folliott's book takes its title is in blank
verse, and is not without a certain amount of grace in
places, albeit falling short of that excellence which can alone
render such numbers attractive. Of Lis versified pieces,
" Alice " has a needlessly dismal ending. We would invite
Mr. Folliott's attention to the fact that " streaming far "
does 7iot rhyme with " gleaming are," as he appears to
imagine, on p. 5G.

Frosperifi/ or Pauperism ? Physical, Industrial, and
Technical Training. Edited by the Earl of Meath.
(London: Longmans, Green, & Co. 1888.)— Haying once
admitted, and acted on, the Socialistic principle that
it is the duty of the State to " educate our masters,"
the nature and character of such education become
a matter of vital national importance. The net result
of the existing .system has been to unfit the children
of the labouring classes for their own station, without
rendering them fit for any other — to dissatisfy them with
manual labour, and to tempt them to crowd the ranks of
clerks and pupil teachers, under the preposterous notion
that handicraft is vulgar and clerical work " genteel." To
show the enormous advantage which must accrue at once to
the individual, and to the nation at large, Lord Meath has
collected a series of essays, reports, and speeches by men of
the most diverse intellectual calibre — from Lord Hartington
down to Mr. Mundella. The thoughtful reader will readily
separate the wheat from the chaff in this heterogeneous com-
pilation, and will probably come to the conclusion that for
lads to learn to make a dove-tail joint, or in agricultural
districts ti) be taught .something of the nature of soils and
manures, and for girls to learn to cook a plain joint and
scrub a floor, would be almost infinitely better than for
them to be crammed with the French and algebra which
now so preposterously form a part of our Board School
curriculum.

Eaygarth's Gladys and other Poems. By James Saunders.
(London : Thomas Laurie. 1888.)— Mr. Saunders is scarcely
at his best in the blank verse of the poem which gives its
title to this collection of his pieces. Now and again he
wanders into true poetry. His small volume is at least up
to the average of any of those of fugitive verse which have
recently been issued.

The Way to Fortune. (London : T. Fisher Unwin.
1888.) — In a series of aphorisms and anecdotes, strung
together in fifty short essays, the anonymous author or com-

piler of this little book really does contrive to give some
very sound and useful advice to the youthful aspirant to
fame and fortune. His work may be regarded as " Poor
Richard," amplified and extended, and would form a far
from useless present to a lad starting in life.

Childrens Services, with Uymns and Songs. Edited by
the Rev. A. W. Oxford, M.A. (London : T. Fisher
Unwin. 1888.) — These short, bright, simplo little services
should prove a blessing to unnumbered hundreds of miser-
able children who are compelled, Sunday after Sunday, to
sit wearily through the battology of the three rolled into one
with which the Church of England hebdomadally afHicts its
attendants.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR AUGUST.

By F.R.A.S.

IIB spotless sun is absolutely devoid of interest as
a telescopic object. On the evening of August 7
there will be a very small eclipse of the sun, its
magnitude even at the time of greatest phase
being only 0013 of the sun's diameter. It begins
at Greenwich at 6h. 48 8m. P.M., the greatest
phase happens at 6h. 57-7m. P.M., and by 7h. G om.
P.M. the moon has entirely cleared the sun's disc.
The first contact happens at 32° towards the West
from the apparent top of the sun, and the last contact 13° towards
the West. The sun sets at 7h. 36m. Map viii. of " The Stars in
their Seasons " shows the aspect of the August night sky. Minima
of the curious variable star Algol (" The Stars in their Seasons,"
map xii.) will occur on August 2, at llh. 13m. P.M., on the 5th at
8h. 2m. P.M., on the 22nd 55m. after midnight, and on the 25th at
9h. 41m. P.M. ; as also on other occasions less favourable for the
amateur observer. Mercury is a morning star during the first three
weeks, but comes into superior conjunction with the sun at Ih, .\.M.
on the 24th. At the beginning of the month he may be detected
in the E.N.E. before sunrise. Venus is an evening star, but is an
insignificant object, and hardly worth looking for. Besides, she is
close to the horizon at sunset. She will be some two diameters
of the sun north of Regulus ("The Stars in their Seasons," map iv.)
on the 11th. M.ars is now receding from the earth, and looks like a
mere big red star in the telescope. He must be looked for the
momentit is dusk. Jupiter is worse placed still ; he may be picked
up as soon as he is visible in the twilight to the west of $ Scorpii
(" The Stars in their Sea.sons," map vii.). The phenomena of his
satellites, which, the weather being clear, will be certainly visible,
are : The egress of the shadow of satellite i. at 9h. 15m. p.m. on the
3rd; the ingress of the shadow of the same satellite at 8h. 58m.
p.m. on the 10th ; the reappearance from eclipse of satellite i.
itself at 8h. 23m. 13s. P.M. on the 11th ; the ingress of the shadow
of sateUite ii. at 8h. 10m. P.M. on the 18th; followed by that of
the shadow of satellite iii. at 8h. 50m. p.m. Then on the 25th the
transit of satellite ii. will begin at 8h. 6m. P.M. ; on the 26th the
egress of sateUite i. will happen at 8h. 14m. p.m., and, finally, on
the 27th satellite ii. will reappear from eclipse at 7h. 58m. 27s.
P.M. Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune are all invisible. Watch should
be kept on the 9th, 10th, and 11th for the shower of shooting stars,
through which the earth annually passes, and which, anciently
called " St. Lawrence's tears,' are now known to astronomers as the
Perseids, from the fact that they appear to start from the constella-
tion Perseus ("The Stars in their Seasons," map xii.). The moon
will be new at 6h. 21-Om. in the evening on August 7, enter her
first quarter at 4h. 44-lm. P.M. on the 14th, be full at 4h. 20-3m.P.M.
on the 21st, and enter her last quarter at 2h. 18'3m. in the after-
noon on the 2V)th. Two stars only will be occulted by the moon
before midnight during the present month. The first is i(/' Aquarii
of the 5th magnitude, which will disappear at 9h, 4Cm. p.m. on the
22nd at the moon's bright limb, at an angle of 29° from her
vertex ; reappearing at her dark limb at lOh. 30m. P.M. at an angle
from her vertex of 320°. The second occultation occurs on the night
of the 26th, when {^ Ceti, a 4th magnitude star, will disappear at
the bright limb of the moon at llh. 20m. at an angle from her
vertex of 98°. It will reappear at her dark limb 22 minutes after
midnight at a vertical angle of 238°. When our notes open the
moon is in Taurus ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). As she
traverses this constellation she arrives at lOh. p.m. on the 3rd at
the extreme north-western boundarj' of Orion. It only takes
her some 9% hours to cross this, and at 7h. 30m. the next
morning she emerges in Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured,"

August 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOAA^LEDGE ♦

239

plate sxiv.). Her journey through Gemini is completed by 5h.
30m. A.M. on the Gth, at which hour she enters Cancer. She
quits Cancer for Leo at 7h. p.;j. on the 7th, and Leo in turn
for Virgo at 9h. A.M. on the 10th (" The Seasons Tictured,"
plate sxv.). She remains in Virgo until Ih. 30m. P.M. on the 13th,
when she crosses the boundary into Libra ("The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xsri.). In the course of h'!r journey through Libra she arrives
at Gh. A.M. on the loth at the western edge of the narrow northern
spike of Scorpio, when by 3 o'clock the same afternoon she has
crossed this it is to come out in Ophiuchus, a constellation which she
leaves for Sagittarius at 4h. a.m. on the 17th. By lOh. A.M. on the
19th she has traversed Sagittarius and entered Capricornus ("The
Seasons Pictured," plate xsi.). She leaves Capricornus for Aquarius
at Sh. 30m. a.m. on the 21st. She is travelling over Aquarius until
llh. A.M. on the 23rd, and she enters Pisces ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate ssii.). Journeying across Pisces, she at 4h. a.m. on
the 21th plunges into a i^ortion of Cetus, and continues in that con-
stellation until Ih. 30m. P.M. on the 25th, when she emerges in
Pisces again, only, however, to re-enter Cetus lOh. later. When
she quits Cetus for the second time at 5h. a.m. on the 27th she
comes out in Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). She
remains in Aries until 5h. 30m. a,m. on the 2Sth, and then passes
into Taurus, travelling through which, as at the beginning of the
month, she reaches the northern prolongation of Orion at 6h. a.m.
on the 31st. At 5 o'clock that afternoon her journey over this is
complete, and she quits Orion for Gemini. There we leave her.

(Buy ^Mf)i0t Column*

By " Five of Clubs."

MATHEWS ON WTELIST— concluded.

Playing to the Score.

OU should not give up the certainty of the odd
trick for an even chance of making two by tricks,
nor that of making or saving a point for an even
chance of making an extra trick. And con-
versely you should risk a finesse giving you an
even chance of preventing your adversaries from
getting the odd trick or from making or saving
a point. [In Mathews reference is made to the
points at long whist, and the wording is obscure :
the strategic principle is the same both for short whist and long
whist.]

When at three, with two honours, note the adversaries' score and
consider whether there is a probability that they may win the game
by tricks, or make a point, even though your partner should hold a
third honour. If there is, yon should conceal j'our strength in
honours as long as possible, as a knowledge of it would give the
adversaries a decided advantage against you in playing for tricks.

To explain what is meant by playing to the score or to points,
consider the following case : —

A has the two lowest trumps, and two forcing cards with the
lead. The two best trumps are known to be with the adversaries,
but it is uncertain whether the)' are divided or both in the same
hand. Nine tricks have been turned. Query : What should A
play 1 Ansirer : This can only be decided by considering the score,
and inquiring w'nether it justifies hazarding two tricks for one or
not. It should be obvious that before the score is much advanced
it would be quite wrong for A to play a trump, because by so doing
he manifestly ventures two tricks for one : he should therefore
secure two tricks by jjlaying a forcing card. But suppose A-B are
at the score of two, and that they have won six tricks, Y-Z not
having reached the score of four : then as obviously A should play
the trump, because if the other trumps are divided A wins three
tricks and the game, and if they are not divided A-B remain at the
score of two : the even chance of winning the game is better than
the certainty of reaching the score of four. If the adversaries are
at the .score of four, A should of course not lead a trump, for he is
certain to save the game if he leads a forcing card, and there is an
even chance of his losing it if he leads a trump.

The following critical stroke decided one of the most material
rubbers [as to the amount of money depending on it] ever played,
and is recommended to the attentive study even of proficients : —

The score was nine-all [corresponding to four-all at short whist].
A had won six tricks, and remained with knave and a small trump,
and two diamonds, with the lead. Y, his left-hand adversary, held
the queen and ten of trumps and two clubs. B, A's partner, had
two small trumps and two diamonds. Z, the last player, held the
ace of trumps and a small one, a club, and a heart. A led a

diamond, which was passed by Y, and was to be won by Z.
Query : How is Z to play to make it possible to win the odd trick ?
Ansn-er : Z saw it was impossible to win the odd trick unless his
partner held either the two best trumps or the first and third, with a
successful finesse [that is, the second-best with A]. He therefore
trumped with the Ace, and led the small one, and Y finessing the
Ten, Y-Z won the game. [By taking the trick with the Ace, Z
made his partner's trumps the best and third best, which before the
Ace was played were the second and fourth best. Clearly had he
retained the Ace only one round of trumps could have been taken
out, and one trick must go to the enemy, even though Y held the
two best trumps after the Ace. It will be noticed, of cour.<e, that
Z"s play would have been quite wrong had the score been other than
it was. For by rutiing with the small trump, Z would make sure of
three tricks out of the four last, whereas by playing the Ace he
left it more than an even chance that Y-Z would make but two
tricks. Since, however, three tricks woidd be worth no more to
Y'-Z than two, when all four were wanted to save the game, he won
the game for himself and partner by his correct strategy in playing
to the score.]

SoMK Points of Stbateoy.

The difficulty of Whist does not consist in playing good cards to
advantage, for Aces and Kings will make tricks, and no skill can
make a Ten win a Knave. But there are hands which frequently
occur when skilful players win where bunglers lose points, and,
except where the cards run very high, it is on the playing of such
hands that success depends.

For example, suppose a player holds Ace or King and three
other trumps, a tierce-major with others of a plain suit, and a
probable trick [that is, a probable re-entering card] in a third suit,
the player's plan here should be to remain either with the last
trump, or with the last but one, with the lead. To accomplish this
he must not win the second trick with his commanding card, but
reserve that card for the third. Nothing, then, but five trumps in
one hand can probably prevent his establishing his long suit. For
where he finds but four trumps against him in one hand, and the
fourth or last left of those adverse trumps is against him, he forces it
out with his long suit, and then the thirteenth trump brings in his
suit again, which without the lead after the third round of trumps
would be impossible.

[The " probable trick in a third suit " is required to give the
trump leader a fair chance of leading a third round of trumps,
should his partner be unable to lead trumps again. Mathews gives
as illustrative cases, to make his " maxim " — as he calls it — more
clearly understood, a series beginning with the same case precisely
which has just been dealt with. The others are as follows] : —

A with a strong suit headed by the tierce-major, a probable trick
in a third suit, holds Ace, King, and two small trumps. If the
adversaries li-ad trumps he should not win the first trick, even if
last player. By passing, he remains after the second round with
the best card for the third, and establishes his suit, even though the
best trump remains against him, unless there were five trumps in
one hand originally.

With a similar hand and Ace, Queen, and two small trumps, do
not win the Knave led on your left hand, but let trumps be led
again. You then take out the third round, and remain as in the
case last considered.

[The following special case is worth noticing] : —

A remains with the best trump (say the Ten) and a small one,
with some losing cards, B, his partner, having to A's knowledge the
second best (say the Nine) with some winning cards, the adversaries
having some winning cards of the other two suits. A is forced.
Query : How should he play ' Answer : A should ruff with his best,
and lead out his small trump ; he thus puts the lead in his partner's
hand, enabling him to make his winning cards, while those of the
adversaries are rendered useless. This mode of play would some-
times be right, even when it was not certain whether the second-
best trump was in partner's or an adversary's hand ; but the fine
player alone can determine the correct play under such conditions.

Judgment is often required in taking the penalties of a revoke.
Before the score is advanced, if the party revoking has won nine
tricks, the least consideration wUl show that the adversaries should
take three of them ; for it they add to their own score they still
leave the odd trick to the enemy. But if the revoking party is at
the score of three, it is better for the adversary to score three
points, as the odd trick leaves the former at four, which is in every
respect a worse point than three. [In the original the reference is
to long whist, in which perhaps the privilege of the " call " made
the score of eight preferable to the score of nine; but in short
whist sound players prefer the score of four, for the reason aptly
indicated by ilr. Bentinck, that the possession of three honours
does not absolutely prevent the winning of the odd trick.] On
other occasions it is only necessary to calculate how the different

240

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1888.

scores will remain after each mode of taking the penalty, and to
select that which gives the best result, never losing sight of the
points of the game, noticing -that is, that you are to score one or
three yourself, or prevent your adversary from so doing.

(Bnv €f)m Column.

By " Mepiiisto."

A

VERY interesting position in a game, wherein Black had given
the odds of Pawn and two moves to White : —

GUN,-r,ERG.
Black.

WHrrB.

E. SELLON.
White plaved

P to Kt t
An excellent move, which ought to win, as Black cannot at present
move his Rook.
Black replied

Q to B3
P to Q5 Q to Kt.1 (ch)

B to K3 Q to Rt

B to Q2
Instead of this move. White miglit have played R to K2 without
any fear of complications, leaving Black's position as before.

Q to Kt3 (chj
K to Esq
Played in the hope of preventing any further dilatory moves by the
Black Queen.

R X Kt
This move came like a bright gleam of hope in a lost position.
If White replies P •; R, then Black jilays Rio Bsij (ch), following
this up by Q to B7 (ch) ; and then, if White plays K to I!sq by
P X P, &c., with a fair attack —
B to K3
A very plausible move, and much superior to P x K.

RxQP
Another timely saving move.

P X R B to R:!

The third move of the entire combination, winning another piece.
B X Q B x () (ch)

K to B2 RP X B

Black ultimately won.

An Algaier Gambit, played a few d^iys ago between two strong
players, produced the following very pretty game : —

WiinE.

Black.

A.

B.

]. PtoKl

1.

P to K4

2. P toIvB4

2.

PxP

3. Kt to KB3

3.

P to KKt4

4. P to KR-t

4.

P to Kf,.-,

5. Kt to Kt 5

5.

P to KR3

6. KtxP

fi.

K X Kt

7. P to Qt

7.

PtoQI

8. BxP

8.

Ivt to 153

9. B to Ko

il.

B to Kt2

10. Kt to B3

10.

PxP

11. B to B4(ch)

11.

K to Kt3

12. QtoK2

12.

P to KR4

This is seldom a good move in this opening. E to Esq is better.

13. KtxP 13. KtxKt

This is a very natural move, but While surprised his opponent
very much by announcing mate in si.x moves. Tliis was given as
follows : —

14. Qx Kt (cb) 14. B to B4

15. QxE (ch) ! 1.5. Kx B

16. Castles (ch) Ifi. KtoKt3

17. B to Q3 (ch) 17. K to R3

18. I! to B4 (ch), and mates next move.

A pretty end-game played by Herr D. van Foreest, of Amster-
dam : —

D. V.A.Jf FOnEEST.
BLACK.

White.
AMATEUR.

It was White's turn to move, and he played —

1. Kt to BH 1. B to Kt2

2. Kt X QR 2. Kt to Kt5

3. B to B5

Black threatened mate by Kt t) B? (ch), followed by R to QS (ch)

3. Pto KG.
■Still threatening the same mate

4. PtoKR3.

Now Black mated in four moves by

.";. Kt to B3
G. K to R2
7. P to Kt3

4.

R to Q8

.').

Kt to B7 (ch)

G.

BxP (ch)

7.

BxP mate.

We have received from Mr. Clement L. Wragge, F.R G-8., of
Brisbane, the Government meteorologist of Queensland, two of his
elaborate daily charts of the weather prevailing over the entire
Australian Continent and New Zealand. Soientilic meteorologists
and geographers may be glad to know that the Postmaster-General
for Queensland has tixecl the annual subscription for these most
instructive maps at 21. 2s. (payable in advance) post free to any
part of the British Empire.

Contents of No. 33.

PAGE

Man's Relifrion the Expression of

liis Knowledge 193

The Kdigiou of the Ancieut

Briton^.— 11 in:)

English Pronunciation 11)0

The Dnr.ation of onr Coal Supply.

By \V. Matticu Williama ID.S

Easy StU'ly ii the Difltreutijl

Clilculu? 100

ThacKeray and the Sttlwdnr/ Revtne 2U2
British and Irish Fairies. By

" Stella Occideos " (Mary Proctor) 203

Bacon's Own Cipher 204

An UndecipheraMe Cipher. By

Richard A. Proctor 205

PAGE

Simple Mechanical Tricks 206

Evolution of Language. By Ada S.

B.aliiu 207

Ink ivrsus Writing Fluid 209

Sir Wm. Herschel's Surveys of the

Heavens 210

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor 211

Reviews 211

Our Whist Column. By "Five of

Clubs" 214

The Face of the Sky for July.

By F.K.A.S 216

Oar Chess Coloiaii. By " Me-

phisto" 215

TEEMS OF SUBSCRTPTION.

" Knowledge** as a Muuthly ilat^azinecarmot be registered aa a Newspaper for
trauBmissiou abroad. The Terms of Subacription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named ; b. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the Bast Indies, China, &c 10 6

To Sonth Africa 13 0

To Australia. New Zealand, &a 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Subscription la 78. 6d., aa heretofore.

September 1, 1888.]

KNOW^LEDGE

241

ILLUSTRATED, l^iAGAZINE ^

[£M€£liTEKATUIl£,& A

LONDON: SEPTEMBER 1, 1888.

GOD'S WORK AND WORD.

If for the FALL of man science comes to substitute the EISE of
man, sir, it means the utter disintegration of all the spiritual
pessimisms which have been like a spasm in the heart and a cramp
in the intellect of man for so many centuries. And yet, who dares to
sav that it is not a perfectly legitimate and proper question to be
discussed, without the slightest regard to the fears or the threats
of Pope or Prelate.— Wendell Holmes.

ilT is surprising that, after the experience men
have had of its dangers, the Bible argument in
regard to matters scientific should be used by
any even pretending, still more by those who
actuallv desire, to be fiiithful and loyal servants
of true religion. Time and agiiin this unwise
argument has been employed to oppose scien-
tific discoveries, and time and again its futility has been
shown, and the mischief of employing it demonstrated.
Strange that some men should be so quick to perceive the
manifest truth that the word of God cannot be untrue, so bUnd
to what should be the equally obvious fact that that which
is untrue cannot be the word of God. Ready to denounce,
on the one hand, as blasphemy aught which seems to ques-
tion the truth of what they regard as the word of God, they
never seem to suspect the awful blasphemy of which they
themselves are unwittingly guilty in maintaining that to be
the word of God which has been shown to be, were it but in
the minutest detail, untrue.

Let it be remarked that, with what seems to many the
bane, science has ever brought the antidote. If one depart-
ment of science in its quiet progress has sho«-n that many
statements once accepted without question cannot possibly be
true, another department of research has with equally calm
and patient inquiry shown that those statements never have
merited the reverential respect which had been accorded to
them in consequence of singular misapprehensions as to
their origin. If science has shown — to speak plainly — that
sayings regarded by some as the very word of God have
been wanting in scientific accuracy, science has been careful
to remove all trace of irreverence from such declarations by
showing not less unmistakably that there never has been
any real justification for regarding those sayings as other
than the words of men — thoughtful and earnest men, but
with no power of discovering those truths which have been
revealed under later scientific researches.

To take one case alone, though I could fill column after
column with illustrative instances, it has been shown that
in one particular book of a certain heterogeneous collection
of ancient liooks and poems, there are mistakes in regard to
scientific matters, mis;ipprehensions as to the meaning of
passages in old Jewish poems, and details quite irrecon-
cilable with history as recorded in the pages of .Josephus,
Phdo-Jud-Tus, and other trustworthy writers of the history
of their own times. But at the same time that this has

been done, it has been shown that that book was most
certainly not written by the man whose name has been con-
nected with it, but was compiled long after he was dead.
If the writer of that book speaks of the earth as a modern
paradoxist might, telling us of an exceeding high mountain
from which all the kingdoms of the earth and their glory
could be seen, and if the science of later years has been
responsible for showing this to be impossible, later science
has shown also that the Alexandrian Greek who, some-
where about the year 110, produced the work in which this
error (very natural in his time) appears, cannot reasonably
be supposed to h.ave been inspired. So with the strange
misapprehensions (also very natural, liowever, nearly 1800
years ago) respecting epileptic, cataleptic, and maniacal
seizures, and the elaborate ingenuity with which the
Alexandrian Greek displays his very natural ignorance
about Hebrew poetry — as in imagining that " the ass and
the colt the foal of an ass " were two distinct animals, iu
misinterpreting (overlooking or forgetting the context)
Isaiah's prophecy about Maher-shalal-hash-baz — and so
forth. The science of Biblical research has explained clearly
enough how natural all this was. And if, whereas science
recognises the human race as descended from a race already
multitudinous, two genealogies in the collection of Jewish
and Alexandrian books agree, though otherwise contradict-
ing each other, in assuming that man was descended from a
single pair (the first genealogy, though going back only to
the supposed single ancestor of the Jewish race — another
impossibility by the way — redly assumes the single pair of
P;\radise), science is at no pains to explain the very natural
mistake. Doubtless nothing but a succession of miracles
could save the descendants of a single pair from destruction,
to say nothing of the renewal of the miracles called for by
the destruction of all save four pairs by the tlood (each of the
three younger pairs starting, miraculously, a branch of the
human family), and of the multitudinous repetition of the
miracle in the case of all the paired animals of the ark, as
also in the supposed origin of distinct human races from
single pairs. Science has proved, again and again, that no
races descended from a single pair can thrive, if kept '• pure "
in the technical sense (though so far as certain .laws which
seem innate in man are concerned this would hardly be the
word we should apply to the imagined beginnings of human
races). Such races cannot escape degeneration and early
destruction. But science, to which the study of history and
Biblical research alike belong, has been able to show the
conditions under which those ancient writings were pro-
duced, and how unlikely it was that their winters should
possess knowledge in advance of the knowledge of their day.
[In passing I may remark that the first gospel was specially
the gospel of the Ebionites, and the only gospel they ac-
cepted ; yet even they (who probably knew more of their
own gospel and valued it more highly than any others)
regarded the genealogical record in it as interpolated.]

In like manner, Biblical research has shown clearly on
what an essentially human basis— narrow too, being charac-
teristically Jewish— the teaching has been established that
the record in the e;irlier chapters of Genesis (a Jewish com-
pilation from Babylonian documents) is the very word of the
Infinite Power from whom all things throughout Infinite
Space and during Eternity of Time proceed. For my own
part, let me remark in passing, though I am ready to admit
the honesty of those who proclaim their belief in this essen-
tially blasphemous idea, I must confess I cannot re;idily
shake off the pain with which I contemplate a doctrine so
stupendously repugnant to all sense of reverence for the
Power Which— Infinite as It must be in "Wisdom, Omni-
present and Everlasting as well as Almighty— must also be
Absolute Truth. It is saddening that in our days of en-

242

♦ KNO^^VLEDGE ♦

[SErTEMBER 1, 1888.

licrhtenment men should associate -with this Power these
imao-ined revehxtions, whose only support has heen the over-
weening- race-conceit of the Jews, and, later, the decisions
of bodies of ecclesiastics, who, in advocating the irreverent
doctrine that what is inconsistent with facts can be God's
Truth, were in reality insisting chiefly on their own claims
to reverence.

The trouble has been that this fundamental error, and the
errors of detail which have been based upon it, have been
treated as though on them religion itself depended, instead
of their being the deadweights by which the downfall of true
religion has again and again bceu threatened.

It is hardly necessary to say, however, that science has
no quarrel with such passages in those always interesting
and sometimes grand old writings as are scientifically un-
sound. Science no more desires to show that its teachings
are an advance on those which seemed plausible and even
reasonable in the days of ancient Babylon and Egypt, than
the astronomy of to-day desu-es to show tliat as a science
it is more e.xact than the astronomy of vShakespeare. There
is a great charm in those old-world ideas. Apart from their
beauty, they are worthy of scientific study as illustrating
the progress and development of the human mind. They
suggested highly poetical thoughts to the men of old times —
thoughts probably far more impressive than any which have
been suggested by the science of our own lime, full though
it is of beauty and of poetry for u=;.

But science proclaims her right to pursue her researches
altogether unhampered by the ideas of others as to the value
of those ancient quasi-scientific speculations. " Why do the
[dogmatic] nations furiously rage together and the [un-
scientific] heathen imagine a vain thing 1 " If they are
right, it is all right ; they are bound to come out right in
the long run — a result for which they ought to be able to
wait, possessing their souls in patience. If they are wrong,
they have still more ferious occasion to consider their posi-
tion. Whether science be right or wrong, science can never
be justly accused of irreverence. Science reads what she
knows to be God's work ; and if she err in her interpreta-
tion, God who supplied the evidence, and gave to man those
powers by which he has been enabled to read it, will not be
angry with His creatures' weakness. But they who, not in
conscious weakness working for the truth, nor in the dark-
ness seeking out the light, but possessed by the pride of
ignorance, claim to denounce their fellow-men's researches,
and, loving darkness, confidently call their darkness God's
own light — if t/i^se should be found in error, may not the
sin of presumption be charged to them ? — though not by
science (otherwise occupied), yet by the passionless judgment
of pure Truth. The answer of the earnest student of God's
laws in nature, under the rebuke of these (the real infidels,
since they have no faith in God's work ; the real sceptics,
since they are ever doubting whether men can safely studv
God's ways), should be : —

I claim the right of weakness — T, the babe,
Call on mj' sire to shield me from the ills
That still beset my path, not trying me
With snares beyond my wisdom or my strength.

Brother, thy heart is troubled at my word ;
Sister. I see the cloud is on thy brow.
God will not blame me — He who sends not peace,
But sends a sword, and bids us strilce amain
At Error's gilded crest.

My life shall be a challenge, not a truce !
This is my homage to the mightier powers,
To ask my boldest question, undismayed
By muttered threats that some hysteric sense
Of wrong or insult will convulse the throne
AVhere Wisdom reigns supreme.

ASTROLOGICAL FANCIES.

jD Paracelsus, explaining, after the confident
manner of his day, the claims of astrology
to respectful attention, stated that " whereas
astronomy deals only with the physical
aspect of planets and stars, astrology, nobler
and higher, deals with the psychical in-
fluences which the souls of the heavenly
oris cxeit upon the microcosm of man." Observe, man'.s
microcosni ; nothing short of that. There is something
more impressive in the thought that the souls of the sun
and moon and planets act not only upon each other, but on
the microcosm of man, than even in those sesquipedalian
terms of which Guy Mannering made such impressive use
in his famous controversy with Dominie Sampson, " signs
and planets, in aspects sextile, quartile, trine, conjoined, or
opposite ; houses of heaven, with their cusps, hours, and
minutes; Almuten, Almochoden, Anahibazon, Catahibazan,
and a thousand other terms of equal sound and significance."
These may overwhelm and stupefy ; but for real impressive-
ness naught can surpass the macrocosmic influences of the
celestial orbs on microcosmic man — a conception which it is
not given to any man to iaterjjret or understand, whereas
Anahibazon and Catahibazou when translated into the ver-
nacular are found to be rather commonplace than other-
wise.

But in all seriousness, astrology in its inception was a
science — if one ought not rather to call it a religion —
deserving of respectful consideration, to say the least. Direct
observation was all in favour of the belief that the heavenly
bodies influence in a most special manner the fortunes of
men. The chief of all the heavenly bodies, the sun, pro-
duces such manifest effects both in his daily and his yearly
course ; the moon seems so obviously powerfitl over the
waters of the sea and in other ways, that it was the most
natural thing in the world to assume that the other celestial
orbs also have their special influences, though it might not
seem quite so obvious what those influences were.

We have, however, to go somewhat farther back for the
real beginning of that faith in the powers of the heavenly
bodies which so long prevailed among men, and still seems
loth to die. There was more in the feeling than the mere
result of reasoning applied to observed facts. Astrology
was at the beginning a form of animistic i-eligion, and that
form which had widest range among the races of men, and
penetrated most deeply into their hearts. In the cbildliood
of each race, as in the childhood of the individual man, all
natural objects were personified. There was nothing mys-
terious or perplexing in the process. Every one of us who
has a fairly good memory, going back to his quite small
childhood, knows just how the personification came about.
The young child recognises will and power in all things
which teem to act and move of themselves, and retains the
idea long after the real source of such apparently inde-
pendent power of action has been explained to him. The
child-man is impressed in like manner with the feeling that
all which lives and moves around him acts, as he himself
does, in response to the p!om|)tiugs of individual will. He
sees, in ])articular, power outside himself in all that in-
fluences his fortunes ; and noting, more or less consciously,
how the fortunes of the human race are influenced by the
proces.'es of nature, he sees, in myriad forms, a " power not
ourselves," and not always, apparently, " making for good."
The flerce roar of the hurricane suggests a hostile power,
and the destruction wrought by the storm confirms the
belief in a wrathful being, which has wrought its evil
■will on men and animals. The crash of thunder and the
blasting stroke of lightning correspond in like manner

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

243

with the sense of malignant might. The fierce rush of tlie
torrent, the overwhelming destruction wrought liy the flood,
the fury with which the waves of ocean beat upon the
shores or destroy the ships to which men had trusted their
lives, all speak of independent powers, destructive and
death-dealing. And still more clearly are such powers
recognised, still more irresistible do they appear, in the
bellowing of the volcano, in the hideous groaning of the earth-
quake, and in the destruction of thousands of human beings
with the stateliest buildings erected by them, apparently by
the direct agency of subteri-anean powers shaking to and fro
the solid framework of the earth.

To races impressed, as all human races in their childhood
were assuredly impressed, with such feelings as these, the
vault of heaven presented a scene still more suggestive of
irresistible might. The very calm which seems to reign in
the celestial depths enhanced men's sense of the action of
constant control, not only over the doings and the fortunes
of men, but over all the turmoil and uproar at work when
forces nearer at hand exerted for a while their overwhelm-
ing yet short-lived forces. The giant energies of subter-
reanean forces might be more directly suggestive of might
than the stately motion of the sun rejoicing as a giant to
run his course ; the fury of the storm might, while it lasted,
seem more terrible than his mid-day heat ; cloud masses
lowering portentously above men's heads might seem more
impressive than the calm blue sky ; and the flash of lightning
more to be dreaded than the steady lustre of the stars.
But those are all short-lasting, and their' etTects are for the
most part transient : these remain year after year, genera-
tion after generation ; their influences know no weariness ;
their powers undergo no diminution, and their work is co-
extensive with man's domain and as enduring as his race.

Can we wonder, then, if in those days, when the forces of
nature, as yet not explained as indicating the operation of
law, were worshipped as deities Viy all human races, the
vault of heaven seemed to him the special domain of the
most powerful gods, those who from without surveyed and
swayed the workings of all inferior powers'? — including the
fierce energies of the tempest and the flood, the lightning
flash and the thunderbolt, the volcano and the earthquake.
Beneath that vault, as beneath the dome of the very temple
of the gods, men bowed their heads to the rulers of heaven :
— the sun, glorious alike in splendour and in power; the
moon '■ walking in glory " and qusen over the powers of
night ; the planets, as they pursued their stately course,

now high, now low, then hid,

Progressive, retrograde, or standing still.

It was not merely that these orbs seemed to them to move
as " radiant Mercuries,"

Carrying through ether, in perpetual round,
Decrees and resolutions of the gods :

those orbs xmn gods to man throughout the whole of that
long early period of each human race, when as yet the
existence of natural laws was not even suspected. Many
write in these day.s about solar myths and lunar myths
and star myths, as about nature myths generally, as if the
uncultured races of old times, and the uncultured myriads
in the times when science was but beginning its career, were
moved by special ingenuity to devise stories corresponding
to natural processes, to the movements of the heavenly
bodies, and so forth. It is far more reasonable, and more
profitable too, to think of the uncultured in those days
as simply interpreting things as they saw them. Not
ingenuity, but extreme simplicity of mind, not profound
insight but rather ignorance, must supply the explanation
of tire earlier ideas of human races. We must try to put
ourselves in the position of men who .saw all that we see,

but knew nothing of what science knows to-day. And we
must not be surprised if we find that the mystery amidst
which all the phenomena of nature were then involved
made men take from the workings of nature their ideas even
of religion, in such degree and for so long-lasting a time that
the traces of those old beliefs remain still in the ceremonial
observances of the best and purest religions of to-day.

And first note that with the men of old times the
forces working from outside were regarded as the most
powerful. It was because beyond the storm and the flood,
the thundercloud, the volcano, and the earthquake, the
calm sky looked down unchangingly, that the vault of
heaven was recognised as the Heaven-Father. " The great
and strong wind that rent the mountains and brake in
pieces the rock " had impressed savage races with the sense
of power, but even for them " the Lord was not in the
wind." And after the wind — as mightier even than the
fiercest storm — "the earthquake; but the Lord was not in
the earthquake ; and after the earthquake, fire ; but the
Lord was not in the fire." For long ages, however, for
generations unnumbered, the Lord was in the high heaven.
Thtre was the true Olympus, whence the influences of the
supreme powers were exerted upon the races peopling this
earth.

The heavenly powers thus ruling were ranged in in-
fluence according to their distance, which was not re-
garded as mere distance, but as height and as measuring
dignity. The moon was not simply the nearest, but the
lowest of the heavenly powers, a position by no means
inconsistent with her character as the ruler of the night and
queen of the stars. And passing to the other extremity of
the scale of dignity, the planet which, as of longest period,
they regarded as the outermost, was the " highest " (even
Galileo wrote of Saturn as the highest planet — Flaneta
altissbmis) ; and to Saturn, accordingly, was assigned the
most potent influence of all. From outside the orbs of all
the other planets he seemed to watch and control all their
movements, and therefore all their influences. Chaucer
caught the right idea of the old astrologers respecting
Saturn, when, mixing up rather quaintly the planet and the
god, he pictures the father of the gods as telling Venus of
his wide path and of his great power (as in some way
associated together) —

My dere daughter Venus, quod Siturne,
My ciiiirs, that hath so wide for to turne,
Hath mon' power than nuit any man.

Having naturally been led to adopt the belief that the
earth and all terrestrial powers were ruled by the orbs of
heaven, and that these orbs were higher in dignity and
influence as they were more remote, men of old times sought
to ascertain in what special way each of the.se heavenly
rulers made his power felt. The influence of some of them
was so obvious th.at they might well believe it within their
power to determine the influence of all. Never did the
prospects of fortune-telling look more favourable than in
the day when men set themselves the task of endeavouring
to ascertain in what special w.ays ]\Iars and Venus and
Jupiter, the swiftly moving Mercury and the slowly moving
widely travelling Saturn, aS'ected the fortunes of men.

For as to the sun and moon there could bo no manner
of doubt. Astrologers had no occasion to ask whether the
sun's favouring rays brought wealth to men, since even the
earth brought forth wealth at his bidding. It belonged,
perhaps, to a very early stage of human ilevelopment to
imagine that the sun ruled when it was day, and was in a
sense the god of day rather than the actual bringer of day.*

* A modern story of the Joe Miller type tells indeed of an Irish-
man who said, " Divil thank the sun tor shining in the daytime ;

244

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

It was, however, by no means so childlike a thought that
the sun rules the year, or, rather, rules that half of the year
during which he is above the great dividing circle which
separates his grave in winter from his throne of glory in the
middle summer. The idea of direct physical causation,
which in our time connects the sun and the life-giving
warmth of summer, belongs to the scientific thought of times
so recent that in reality their beginning is as of yesterday.
Me.-i would have regarded it as a wild and fanciful notion,
if not in some degree blasphemous, to suggest that the sun
nourishes the fields in the same way precisely that a fire on
the hearth nourLshes those around it — by its warmth. Even
had that idea been accejited, the actual growth of herbs and
flowers would still have appeared to respond mysteriously to
solar influences. For men understood as little about plant
life in those days as about the laws and nature of heat.
Seeing then, as they thought, that the sun exerts mystical
influences over the growth and development of the herbs of
the field and the trees of the forest, men felt well assured
that he exerts psychical influences on the microcosm of
man. Herbs yield fruit after their kind, and bring forth
their hidden wealth in response to solar rays : men and
nations, then, must owe their wealth and prosperity to the
mysterious influences of the sun.

As for the moon, passing over the very early teaching
which regarded her .as ruler of the night — an idea which,
as it certainly does not correspond with the fects, led Milton
to cause the moon's orb to be painfully diverted from its
original and mathematically impossible track — we can fee
that her sway over the tides would be regarded by all men
as indicating a mysterious form of power. When we con-
sider that the tides were not explained at all till the time of
Newton, were even by him wrongly explained at the outset
of his inquiries, and (owing perhaps to his mistake then)
are still wrongly explained in at least ninety-nine text-books
of astronomy and geography out of a hundred,* we cannot
wonder if a strange mystery was recognised in the tidal
sway of the ocean, when, as yet, the law of universal gravita-
tion had not even been imagined. The moon seems also in
some way to influence persons of weak mind. It is no idle
fancy that lunatics and idiots are influenced by the moon,
though it is indirectly, not directly, that she afiects them.
They are disturbed by the light of the full moon during the
night ; and, being thus disturbed, their mania or idiocy
becomes for a while more marked and manifest.

With regard to the planets — the other planets as they
were considered, for the sun and moon were jjlanets in those
old times — men could only reason by analogy. Since two of
the planets do thus manifestlj' influence things terrestrial,
so also in all probability do the others. All that was neces-
sary was to ascertain in what way each planet acted. And
this, they supposed, might be done by careful watching.

if he shone at night, bedad, there would be something to thank him
for!" But that Irishman, assuming (which seems unlikely) that
he ever existed, must be regarded as a reversion to a very remote
ancestral type.

* Nothing can be much more amusing to the mathematician than
the grave repetition of that supposed explanation of the tides,
which begins and practically ends with the statement that under
the moon's attractive influence the waters on the side of the earih
towards the moon would be raised, and also the waters on the side
remote from the moon. This is true, doubtless, preciselj' as it is
true that if a top — not spinning — be set aslant on its peg, it will
topple over unless supported ; but precisely as this statement would
be thought a very unsatisfactory explanation of the reeling of a
spinning-top when its axis is aslant, so is the common account of
what would happen with the seas were the earth not spinning a
most insufBcient explanation of the entirely different behaviour of
the actual seas. It is not commonly known that instead of kiyh
water under the moon and opposite, there would be lorv water— but
for frictional resistance .

Unfortunately, they started with views respecting the
influence of each planet leading them to expect certain
results, which accordingly they soon persuaded themselves
(so prone are men to recognise significance in casual coinci-
dences) that they had found. Mercury was a planet hard to
detect, swift in his movements, and often hiding himself in
the sun's rays ; he therefore might well be supposed to
influence the fortunes of all men engaged in business
requiring craft and subtlety. Venus, lovely on " the daflbdil
sky that she loves," was naturally chosen as the planet of
love. jNIars, ruddy and fiery in aspect, and changing
strangely also in lustre, seemed an equally appropriate ruler
over war. .Jupiter, stately in motion, and splendid in
aspect, influenced the fortunes of those who have rule and
sway over men. And lastly, the sad and slow-moving
Saturn suggested evil fortune and gloom.

It was not very wonderful, possessed as men were with
these notions, that the observations which they made on
the planets confirmed them in their fancies, foolish though
these now seem to be, as, indeed, they are in the light of
the facts now known.

SHAKESPEARE SELF-DRAWN.

By Bexvolio.

FIKST PART OF "KING HENRY VI."

?.S "Titus Androiaicus" presents Shakespeare's
first eflbrts in tragedy, while " Love's
Labour's Lost " is the first of his come-
dies, so the First Part of " Henry VI.,"
whatever portion we attribute to Shake-
speare's pen, must be regarded as present-
ing his first eflbrts in English historical
drama, which, during the reigns of Elizabeth
and James I., had, as we know, a .special interest for
English playgoers. The very worthlessness of much that we
find in this play is instructive, for it shows how intense
that national feeling must have been which could enjoy the
exhibition of inferior plays such as this, nay, even be moved
(as Nash tells us) to tears at the representation of the ill-
fortunes of Talbot, Salisbury, and Exeter. Lt is certain
that the value of the old English historic subjects for
theatrical purposes had been recognised long before Shake-
speare came to London. There can be very little doubt
that the greater portion of at least the First Part of
" Henry VI." had been already used in its present wording
before Shakespeare took part in the representations. And
there are good reasons for believing that some time passed,
after that, before he was allowed any voice in determining
the actual form in which this particular play should be pre-
sented. When this happened it is probable that at first ho
was unwilling to believe that he was himself a much better
judge of what was fitting and eflfective than Greene (his
senior by but four years, but by a longer interval as a
dramatist), or even than Marlowe, whom Shakespeare (if we
can judge by the consideration that imitation is an expres-
sion of admiration) seems to have regarded as the most
powerful dramatist of his time. Shakespeare was very
slow, in all probability, to suggest excisions, changes, or
additions. Greene was almost certainly unwilling, Marlowe
probably ready, to recognise the true judgment of the
younger dramatist — younger, that is, as a dramatist, but of
the same age counting by years as Marlowe. Hence,
probably, the ill-feeling displayed by Greene in his " Groat's
Worth of Wit."

I do not propose here to discuss the question of the share

September 1, 1888.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

245

which Shakespeare had in the production of the First Part
of "Henry VI." So far as Shake.^peare's own character is
concerned (about which wc are endeavouring to gain
glimpses from his plays) it may be .'^xul tlrit this particular
play tells us more by that which is indubitably not
Shakespeare's than by the passages which may with more or
less confidence be a.s,signed to him. I have already, how-
ever, considered the play in that particular aspect. I shall
here content myself by touching on some portions of this
pla}- which seem undoubtedly touched by Shakespeare's
hand, even if all of them have not come direct from his pen,
and contrasting them with others which seem as certainly to
have come from other hands.

The first seven lines of the play seem as clearly to come
from different pens as the play itself regarded as a whole.
It would be absurd to suppose Shakespeare wrote the last
two of these seven lines : —

Kingf Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long I
England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

While the four lines immediately preceding might well have
come from his pen : —

Comets, importing change of times and states.
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky ;
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars.
That have consented unto Henry's death !

though there is nothing enabling us definitely to assign
these lines to Shakespeare. Greene and Marlowe frequently
refer to as "rological fancies; and the tone of a later refer-
ence of the kind : —

Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens,
So in the earth, to this day is not known,

recalls rather Greene's occasionally pedantic affectation of
learning (a fault shared al.-o by Marlowe) than Shake-
speare's manner.

The following lines read like Shakespeare's work : —

Expect Sa'nt Martin's summer, halcyon d^ys.
Since I have entered into these wars.
Glory is like a circle in the water,
'Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself.
Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
With Henry's death the English circle ends ;
Dispersed are the glories it included.
Now am I like that proud insulting ship
'Which CiEsar and bis fortunes bare at once.

The Countess of Auvergne's comments on Talbot are
decidedly Shakesperean in tone : —

Is this the scourge of France ?
Is this the Talbot, so much feared abroad,
That with his name the mothers still their babes ?
I see, report is fabulous and false :
I thought, I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspect.
And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.

[Compare with the last two lines Elinor's description of
Faulconbridge, " King John," act i. scene 1 : —

Do you not read some tokens of my son
In the large composition of this man ?]

Yet the greater part of the scene between the Countess and
Talbot is not at all in Shakespeare's style.

The fourth scene of act ii. is by general consent attributed
wholly to Shakespeare. No one else, Greene or Poele, Mar-
lowe or Nash, could have written it as it stands. It pre-
sents, too, all the signs of having been produced by one
hand and at one time. The quality of the work is uniform
and consistent. Thoroughly Shakespearean is the skill
(evidently unconscious) with which the characters of Suffolk
and Plantagenet, both alike fiery, are differentiated, while
Somerset, cool even in his wmth, is strongly contrasted with

either, and with Warwick, quiet but resolute throughout.
There is perhaps a touch of gentle Will Shakespeare's
nature in Plantagenet's " Thanks, gentle sir," specially
addres.sed to the unnamed lawyer, whose tone in the few
'worc's he speaks indicates his comparatively lowly station.

Very little in acts iii. and iv. seems like Shakespeare's
work. The characterisation of the ilaid of Orleans, here
as throughout, is not only unworthy of Shakespeare, but
wanting in dramatic unity. Yet there are lines which few
but Shakespeare would have written in those days. For
instance. Burgundy's

'Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects
Thy noble deeds as valour's monument.

And La Pucelle's

Look on Ihy country, look on fertile France,

As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When de;ith doth close his tender dying eyes.

These passages, whether Shakespeare's or not, 'were cer-
tainly not from the same hand which wrote York's silly
lament : —

He dies, we lose ; I break my royal word ;

We mourn, France smiles ; we lose, they daily get ;

All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset.

Lucy, farewell ; no more my fortune can.
But curse the cause, I cannot aid the man —
Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours are won away,
'Long all of Somerset and his delay.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh scenes of this (fourth) act
are certainly not Shakespeare's. Probably the rhymed por-
tion which forms nearly the whole of these scenes is from a
pen which produced no other part of the play as it stands.
But the first lines of scene 5 read much like Shakespeare's
■work, and seem even suggestive of Shakespeare's nature : —

0 young John Talbot I I did send for thee
To tutor thee in stratagems of war,
That Talbot's name might be in thee revived,
When sapless age, and weak unable limbs.
Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.

If Greene, however, did not (to use his own words)
" bombast out " the " blank verse " following, I know not
who, unless perhaps Marlowe, can have written them : —

Is Talbot slain ? — the Frenchman's only scourge.

Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis ?

0, were mine eyeballs into bullets turned.

That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces 1

O, that I could but call the dead to life.

It were enough to fright the realm of France :

Were but his picture left among you here

It would amaze the proudest of yon all.

Shakespeare certainly never wrote this bombastic non-
sense. But very likely Shakespeare added the answers in
which La Pucelle ridicided Lucy's bombast. Possibly it
was thus he oflTended Greene.

The parts relating to La Pucelle in the fifth act we may
safely assign to another hand than Shakespeare's. There
are some who regard the wooing of Margaret by Suffolk as
Shakespeare's ; but there are passages in it too feeble and
too false to nature to be his work. Some lines are almost
certainly his, as Suffolk's : —

So doth the swan her downy c}"gnets save.
Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings.

0, stay 1 I have no power to let her pass ;
My hand would free her, but my heart says— no :
As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
Twinkling another counterfeited beam,

246

♦ KNO^A/'LEDGE

[September 1, 1888.

So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
Fain would I woo her, but I dare not speak.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd ;
She is a woman, therefore to be won.

But no one can imagine that Shakespeare wrote the lines ; —

SUF. I'll win this Lady Margaret ! For whom?

Why, for my king ! Tush ! he's a wooden thing.
Makg. He talks of wood. It is some carpenter.

Many parts of this scene, as indeed of others in the play,
read like actors' gag, showing rather what was thought
likely to jjlease the groundlings than what any of the
dramatists of the company could have deliberately written.

MR. DONNELLY'S CIPHERING.

3-5 thecalculation of chance.^ seemsto be bewilder-
ing to many, and specially imposing when it
runs into large numbers, I deem it desirable
to caution the non-mathematical community
against Mr. Donnelly's truly bewildering
and in a twofold sense imposing statements
in regard to the evidence of the " law of
chances " in favour of his cryptogram. He evidently under-
stands the doctrine of chances as little as he understands
the cipher Bacon really invented — or rather, as little as he
understood that cipher before the Pall Mall Gazette
explained to him its working in the capital article, " A
Mammoth Mare's Nest." I suppose he understands that
system now, though, strangely enough, in his " case for " his
" Cryptogram " he nowhere thinks it necessary to explain
how he came so thoroughly to miss the sense of Bacon's
clear explanation of the five-letter cipher. (In passing I
may note a point which the author of " A Mammoth Mare's
Nest " omitted to mention, viz., that the passages used by
Bacon in illustration of his cipher were originally, like the
body of the work, in Latin, so that Mr. Donnelly's ingenious
idea of " capitalising " ALL and IS in a passage which
chances to contain these words out of the sentence " All is
lost," is seen to be singularly ludicrous — the Latin being
Perditm res, and no such word as perditce appearing in the
passage quoted by Bacon from Cicero — Uijo omni officio ac
potius pietate errja te, &c.

Mr. Donnelly olfers to reveal to the editor of the Pall
Mall Gazetlr, in confidence, his fundamental cipher-number,
if it be acknowledged that the thousands of words in his
story cannot have come out by accident. He illustrates
what he takes to be the nature of the chances as follows : —
If the number were 740, " there are 739 chances to 1 that the
cipher word needed will be the 7J:0th ; if, now, the first six
words of the Lord's Prayer are fovmd, each of them standing
as the 740th word, one after the other, in a composition,
there is but one chance against 232,065,922,400,000, or one
chance against 232 trilliojis " (our more sensible English
system of numeration would say billions) " that this could
happen by accident." And he goes on to speak of the prac-
tically infinite chances against the whole of the Lord's
Prayer being found in the same systematic manner.

There is not the least semblance of correctness in any of
the statements made in regard to this illustrative case ;
though I am bound to admit that if there had been, if even
every word of the argument were sound, the case would not
be in the slightest degree illustrative of INIr. Donnelly's
work, so that his position will not be at all weakened (it
could not possibly be weaker than it is) by my sliowing that
his chance argument is all (in the Baconian cipher)
Chro/i onhot ontho loyos ! as the " Mammoth Mare's Nest "

article justly says of the whole cryptogram — a mystic word
which, being interpreted, signifies Bosh !

The chance that any particular word will be the 740th
(counted from any assigned place) is no more to be regarded
as 1 in 740 than as 1 in 10, or 20, or 1,000. Counting any
number of words brings us to some word, whether we count
10, or 20, or 740, or 1,000; and the chance that that word
will be some particular word, named beforehand, is not
aflfected by the number of words we count : it is simply the
chance that a word taken at random will be that particular
word. This chance depends on the nature of the word
itself We are more likely to be led by our count to such
a word as a, the, ami, is, it, or to than to such a word as
cryptogram or impecuniosity, because in any composition
simple words occur oftener than complex ones. To put a
fixed and definite chance down for each of the words Our,
Father, xkIio, art, in, and Heaven indicates complete mis-
apprehension of the doctrine of probabilities — even of its
merest elements.

One can see what Mr. Donnelly tried to do, fondly
imagining he was applying the law of chances. Having
six words, he sets the chance of these occui-ring at 1, or
certainty, for the first word (since some word miisl be
reached to start with), and at j\^ for each of the other
five. Thus the chance for the six is 1 in 740 raised to the
fifth power, or 740 x 740 x 740 x 740 x 740. He has gone
wrong in his ciphering — naturally — for the fifth power of
740 is 221,900,602,400,000, not 232,06.^,922,400,000; but
this is fair work for Mr. Donnelly, and much nairer than he
gets in working out his own cipher system.

Mr. Donnelly shows later his utter misapprehension of
the law of chances by inviting us to apply that law to
determine how many quintillions there are against one
that the coherent words (!) " with his quick wit and his big
belly " would come out by accident from his free-and-easy
system of counting. The law of chances has no bearing on
such a question. One might as reasonably ask that the law
of chances should be applied to determine how many quin-
tillions to one there are against the adoption by Bacon of an
imbecile cipher-system to hide under a rubbish. heap what
we are told he was painfully anxious to disclose ; or to find
the odds against Bacon's writing in bad Victorian English
the feeble and scurrilous twaddle attribttted to him in " The
Great Cryptogram " ; or to determine the chances that
Bacon, or even Shakespeare himself, hampered in his
writing by the multitudinous conditions imagined by Mr.
Donnelly, could produce a noble play; or lastly, to indicate
the probability of that man detecting a recondite though
semi-idiotic cipher-system who had failed to understand the
simple and sensible sj'stem really invented (and clearly
explained) by Bacon himself.

The real problem in chances involved in Mr. Donnelly's
work has been, throughout, simply the following : —

When, at any stage of his progress, Mr. Donnelly has
needed a particular word, what has been the chance that,
with the varied ways in ichich he permits hims'lf to count,
he tcill reach that loord, making his count apparently corre-
spond ivith one of those ways (modi^fied by one or other of
his various methods) ? This chance cannot be determined
mathematically, but from such study as men of sense can
aflbrd to devote to Mr. Donnelly's work, it is obvious that
the chance is at least ten thousand to one.

Per contra, here is another question in chances not mathe-
matically determinable : —

Granted that, as more than one critic has pointed out,
" any one can construct any kind of narrative " out of any
volume whatsoever, after Mr. Donnelly's fashion, what is
the chance that any one else will do it 1 " It will be
observed," says Mr. Donnelly in italics, " that no one has

September 1, 1888.]

KNOAATLEDGE ♦

247

yet done it " — except himself. Now that he has done this
thing, we may safely infer that the odds are about a
thousand millions (the number of the adult population of
the world) to one against its being ever attempted again.
Let us, at least, devoutly hope so.

A BOTANICAL ATROCITY.

By Miller Christy.

i':^I< >XG all the many ingenious contrivances
for effecting her various ends which Nature
makes use of, none are of a more fascinating
interest to the student than those by means
of which the flowers of plants are fertilised
and their seeds distributed over the ground
to spots where they may hope to obtain a
foot-hold— or, to speak more correctly, a root-hold.

We are all of us accustomed to speak glibly of the
"struggle for existence," and we are apt to think that
nowhere throughout the whole wide range of nature is this
struggle more severe than in the case of our own exalted
species, in these days of excessive " competition " and "' over-
population." But a little reflection may well lead us to
doubt whether this is really so, and even to perceive that
the struggle is much keener with many other species than
with our own. How many, for instance, of the nine
millions of ova found in the roe of a single codfish ever
produce a mature fish ] How many, again, of the tiny
wriggling tadpoles that blacken the margins of our country
ponds in spring ever attain maturity as full-grown frogs 1
And what proportion of the seeds produced by any one
plant or tree ever finds itself so fortunate as to be able to
take root and grow, unsmothered by the surrounding vegeta-
tion ? Probably, in all these cases, not the one-hundredth
part survives to reach maturity. Were it otherwi.<!e, indeed,
the ocean would quickly become packed solid with codfish,
the land overrun with frogs more numerous than at the
time of the second Egyptian plague, and the surface of the
soil entirely concealed by a dense mass of impenetnxble and
tangled vegetation. An " infant mortality " so prodigious,
in our own species, would certainly appal even the soulless
official mind of a Registrar-General.

If, then, the struggle for existence is so severe in Nature,
it can hardly be wondered at that many exceedingly inge-
nious contrivances have been, in the course of time, devised
by plants in order to ensure the wide dispersal of their
seeds, so that each may enjoy as good a chance as possible
of alighting upon some spot where there is sufficient room
for it to germinate into a healthy plant. It may be truly
said that, as a general rule, with all living things the chief
aim and object of their lives is the perpetuation of their
species by means of offspring. With plants this is well
shown by the extreme ingenuity of many of the contriv-
ances for ensuring proper fertilisation, and the consequent
production of good seed. And it may, I think, be said,
with equal truth, that second only in importance to this
great function, the production of seeds, comes the proper dis-
persal of those seeds, to which end many almost equally
ingenious devices have been adopted. Very many seeds
are furnished with minute hooks which fasten themselves
on to the wool of passing animals, and thus accomplish
the great end in view ; others are peculiarly adapted for
disper-sion by means either of wind or water ; others are
scattered broadcast after passing through the intestines of
birds ; while many plants have actually developed means
for throwing their seeds to a greater or less distance. There
are even some seeds which, in thus effecting their own ends,

do so at the expense of living animals ; but no known seeds,
probably, employ means more atrociously and barbarously
cruel than those emploj'ed by the seed of a species of grass,
known as Stipa spartea, which is excessively common over
a large extent of the North- American prairies. Briefly
described, this villainous instrument is nothing more or
less than an automatic vegetable corkscrew, with an exceed-
ingly sharp point, and capable, by its own action, of boring
itself into the bodies of living sheep and other animals, and
of finally killing them by so doing.

The plant pi-oducing this " instrument of torture " has a
very wide range of distribution in Americi. It inhabits the
drier portions of the plains and prairies of the west, almost,
if not quite, from the Mississippi River on the east to the
Rocky Mountains on the west, and from Texas and Mexico
on the south to the lonely Peace and Saskatchewan Rivers
on the north. The great and only redeeming feature in its
character is that, for purposes of pasturage, its leaves are
more succulent and valuable than those of any other of the
prairie grasses, and that, although too short and tussocky
to be made into hay, they formerly provided the buffaloes
with their chief winter forage, and now perform the same
office for the tame cattle on many a western ranche. Ou
this account it has received, among other popular names,
that of " buffalo grass " — indeed, its range in the west of
America is pretty nearly co-extensive with the ancient range
of the buffalo.

During autumn, winter, and spring, the buflalo-gi-ass is in
all respects a most moral and respectable plant ; but, early
in the summer, it begins to plan evil ways. First of all it
throws up three or four tall flower stalks, each about a
couple of feet in height, and bearing six or seven of the
horrible instruments of toi-ture already mentioned. These
ripen about the middle of July, and for the nest two or
three weeks make themselves troublesome, not only to the
lower animals, but also to man, in districts where the plant
grows abundantly. It now is fully launched upon its evil
ways, and begins to deserve its other popular names, as
" .spear-grass," " oat-grass," " go-devil-oat," '■ wild-oat,"
•' needle-grass," &a. As one walks over the prairie at this
time of the year, suddenly there comes a sharp prick, as of
a pin, on the leg, just above the ankle. Stop one must, to
investigate the cause, or the pricking will become more
severe, and then the traveller finds that one of these seeds,
and very often sever.al, has bored its way clear through
one's trousers and sock till it has reached the flesh. With
man it is an easy matter to prevent the mischief going any
further, but the case is very different with sheep, woolly-
haired dogs, and other animals. These cannot rid them-
selves of the " spears " the moment they begin to prick, and
in time the consequences begin to be serious. There is no
question that the seeds are able to penetrate the skins, and
bury themselves deeply in the flesh of these animals. AVhen
this is done, death sometimes supervenes, though oftener as
a result of the extensive ulceration thus set up, than as a
result of the direct action of ihe seeds.

Next, a word as to the structure of these unpleasant
natural tormentors. In general appearance a complete
seed — or, to speak with greater botanical precision, a
complete " fruit " — a good deal resembles a twisted piece
of wire, having several slight bends in it, and being rather
thicker in some places than in others. The seed proper is
elongated, brown in colour, somewhat less than an inch in
length, and generally not very unlike a harmless oat in
its appearance. At one end, however, it is provided with
an excessively fine sharp point, surrounded with many
delicate barblike hairs, pointing backwards; while at the
other end it is produced into a stiff, slender awn, or shaft,
rather less than two inches in length. This portion is

248

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888

usually quite straight, though always sharply twisted up
upon its own axis, seven or eight revolutions being usually
observable. At the top of the shaft there is a bend, usually
somewhat larger than a right angle, which is termed the
"lower knee," and in about half an inch another sharper
bend, which has been called the " upper knee," after which
the awn is still further produced into a stiff tapering bristle,
somewhat less than three inches in length, entirely un-
twisted, and set with many exceedingly minute but sharp
teeth, all pointing backwards. The whole apparatus, for
such it may be called, is thus about six or seven inches
in length. A glance at the accompanying illustration,
however, will give a clearer idea of the seed than the most
elaborate description.

The foregoing is a description of the instrument when in a
perfectly dry state. On its becoming wet, the " hygrometric

Awn op Stipa Spartea Cin its dry or twisted state).

action " of the awn (as it is called) comes into play, and the
appearance of the whole contrivance quickly becomes
changed. The shaft then begins to untwist, the knees com-
mence to straighten, and in a short time the whole awn
becomes perfectly straight from end to end, so to remain
until it is again dried, when the former twisted and bent
condition is resumed. This curious power of untwisting
and straightening itself when moistened, and of again twist-
ing up when dried, seems to continue for an almost indefinite
time — probably until the awn commences to undergo
natural decay. It is a power which is also possessed,
though in a less fully-developed degree, by various other
seeds. In most, if not all, of the members of the genus
Stipa, in several other grasses, in some of the Erodiums, and
even in the common wild oat, this curious hygrometric
peculiarity of the seed is observable.

Let us now examine how this power aids the seed in its
nefarious designs. It is in this way : Suppose a ripe awn,
in its dry or twisted state, to have become entangled in the
wool of a sheep, or to have fallen among the grass. It there
remains inactive, until moistened by a shower of rain or a
heavy dew. Then, as we know, the shaft commences to
untwist, rotating the point of the seed ; for, as the bristle
or arm of the awn forms at first a right angle with the shaft,
it is certain to catch in the grass or wool, and thus prevent
the head of the shaft from revolving as it untwists. But all
this time, as we also know, the " knees " are straightening, |

raising the arm and causing it to press upwards. In rising
it will probably pi-ess against a blade of grass or catch in
the wool, its many fine teeth affording it a more or less firm
hold upon either. Under these circumstances, the continued
ellbrts of the arm to rise will have the effect of pressing for-
ward the revolving point of the seed, causing it to penetrate
slowly and by degrees into the flesh of the animal, the
ground, or any other sufficiently soft substance which may
be opposed to it. Thus our automatic boring-ajiparatus
wiU be in full operation. Having penetrated to a slight
depth, the barb-like hairs I'ound the point prevent it being
withdrawn when the awn re-twists on again becoming dry ;
so there it remains, ready to penetrate further and further
as often as succeeding drought and moisture cause the awn
to twist and untwist again.

There is, as has been ah'eady said, no question that the
seeds are in this way able to penetrate the skins of animala
and actually enter the bod}-. On the plains of the West its
possession of this power is well known, and I have myself
often seen and heard of instances of its effect. I have
never, it is true, actually seen a sheep that had been
thus killed, because sheep are not allowed to die of it,
but are killed for the butcher. There is, however, not the
least question that the seeds have the power of causing
death, either directly or indirectly. A recent American
writer, speaking of this subject, says that, after the seeds
have penetrated the skin, " the awns bi'eak off, and the
needles penetrate the vital part of the sheep, causing pain-
ful death. . . . The points, too, not only enter the body of
the sheep in this way, but also stick in the nostrils, nose
and hps, where, however, they do less harm than when
eaten and swallowed into the stomach, in which event
death must follow." I have been repeatedly assured when
"out West," by butchers and others, that the "spears"
are very commonly found beneath the skins of sheep after
death — especially about the shoulders — indeed, I have
myself seen them in this position, while I have been several
times told by settlers of sheep they had been compelled to
kill, " to save their lives," as Irishmen are supposed to say.
I have, moreover, demon.strated that the seeds do possess
this power bj- experiment in England. Some seeds, which
I placed among the wool of two sheep, quickly penetrated
to a depth of half an inch, after which I removed them,
thinking that the animals were probably less interested than
myself in the lesult of my experiment. Indeed, the keep-
ing of sheep on the Western prairies would be rendered
almost impossible, on account of the prevalence of this
deadly grass, were it not for the fact that its evil effects can
be avoided by a few simple precautions, such as a careful
examination of the sheep during the time the seed is ripe,
or " folding " them during the same period.

But sheep are not the only animals that sufft'r. W^oolly-
haired dogs are almost equally troubled, if proper care be
not taken. I have heard of such dogs having, like the
sheep, to be killed " to save their lives," when the whole of
the breast and stomach has been found to be a mass of
ulceration. I have also heard of a colley, which came so
thoroughly to understand the nature of the " spears," that
he would never enter the long grass while they were ripe ;
while one settler told me that he had found it necessary to
shave his dog all over when the " spears " were ripe, to pre-
vent their catching in his long matted hair.

Now, could any epithet be too strong to describe correctly
a seed which conducts itself in such an atrocious manner?
I think not. It mu.st, however, be confessed that it is a
little difficult to see exactly how the plant is banefited by
its seeds being introduced into the bodies of animala.
Their dispersal would, it is true, be usually assured, but the
great object of that dispersal — namely, germination — would

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

249

probably be deterred, unless it be that the seed has some
strange power of retaining its vitality for a long period after
its burial in the flesh of a sheep. It can hardly be supposed
that the seeds are intended to grow there, or we should be
presented with the strange spectacle of the sheep growing
their ftivourite food on their own bodies! But this is too
absurd. It may, perhaps, be that the simple and beautiful
piece of mechanism possessed by the seed of Stipa spartea
is simply to enable it to bury itself securely in the ground
where it may take root — to sow itself, in fact ; but, if so,
what shall be said of the plant which uses such a power for
such murderous purposes as have been described ? The whole
matter is not yet quite cleared up.

RUDE CENSURES ON BRITISH RUDENESS.

X the American monthly Forum for July there
is a paper on English and American manners,
by an American rejoicing in the name of T. W.
Higginson, the object of which is to show that
English breeding is entiiely inferior to the
American article. Mr. Higginson relates
several stories of Englishmen who have been
wanting in courtesy, either to himself personally or to other
Americans, some of these stories certainlj' indicating con-
sidei'able rudeness, though one would like before condemn-
ing to know something more of the facts — for it is not
absolutely impossible that the discourtesy of the Britisher
may have been provoked by equal or greater discourtesy on
the part of the American. For instance, a certain lord to
whom ]Mr. Higginson refers may have been wanting in
politeness ; but when we find the American who undertakes
to teach Englishmen manners deliberately naming this loi'd
in his article, telling us how he spoke of his rudeness to an
English lady, and quoting her reply that the manners of that
family (naming it again) are proverbial, we begin to lecog-
nise the extreme probability that the American who thus
shows himself ignorant of the essential principles of pro-
priety may have moved the Englishman to be sharp and
abrupt with him. In like manner he tells us that a well-
known novelist spoke offensively at the table of an American
whom he names, and goes on to say that " he took the
liberty to sound the Englishman on the subject." The
reply suggests pretty clearly that the Englishman had had
no thought of offending, but had merely expressed when
invited his opinion on some custom approved in America,
but not liked elsewhere. " I give you my word of honour,"
he said, " that I have often felt it my duty to make remarks
which were much more offensive to my host than anything
I can possibly have said here " — meaning obviously (though
I expect the wording of the reply has been altered) that in
England he would give his opinion much more decisively,
without in any way oflending — since in England, when a
man's opinion is invited, he is expected to give it truthfully,
and no offence is taken if it chances to be unfavourable.
But Mr. Higginson, who has offended grossly against pro-
priety in relating the story, and by his own account took a
great liberty on the occasion itself, confidently interprets
the Englishman's reply to mearl that he took pleasure in
causing annoyance, and " measured his merit by the degree
of annoyance he caused." He adds to the ofi'enco by imply-
ing that what he charges (unfairly in all probability) against
this particular Englishman, all Englishmen are always
doing.

Mr. Higginson's whole article is in fact a gross offence
not only against manners, but against the principles on
which good manners depend. Apart from the rudeness

shown to our people, the article is full of oflensive and quite
unjustified brags about Americans. Mr. Higginson must
know that American public schools, whatever other excel-
lent qualities they may have, are not scenes where absolutely
perfect manners are displayed (even in the East, while in
the West they might be often described in much stronger
terms). He must be well aware, also, that if any English-
man cared to follow Mr. Higginson's offensive course and
present carefully selected examples of ill manners as correctly
indicating the character of a race, he need not look beyond
the very circles which Mr. Higginson chooses to describe as
trained to perfect manners — the secret societies, with their
lodges, chapters, and circles, their gaudy trickery of dress,
their preposterous titles, and the rest of their trumpery.
It would be most unfair to say that because among the
members of these orders you may meet examples of gi-oss
rudeness, therefore they are all ill-mannered and dis-
courteous— though not more unfair than it is for Mr.
Higginson to attribute to the whole of the English aristo-
cracy the bad manners which he ascribes (probably falsely,
since even if he is striving to be fair he is obviously a very
poor judge of manners) to one or two whom he has met or
heard of. But if one were disposed to be as unfair and as
offensive as he seeks to be, one might repeat a sentence of
his most effectively (with a slight change in its significance) :
" Much of the habitual politeness with which Americans of
all classes treat one another, in travelling and in business,
comes doubtless from the friction and the examples of the
lodge-room." Ninety-nine Englishmen of the more cul-
tured classes out of one hundred, who have tiuvelled or
done business in America, would be rather disposed to
recognise the reverse of politeness as habitual among
Americans in business and in travelling — only the hundredth
remembering that this is because all classes travel and do
business together in America, whereas in England the
better bred keep apart from the rougher membei-s of the
community. But cei'tainly if an explanation of the " polite-
ness" (negative), that is, of the rough and uncivilised ways
very often to be observed among Americiins, were to be
sought, the rea.son assigned with another meaning by Mr.
Higginson would probably serve.

For my own part, I will frankly admit that I am often
exceedingly annoyed with my fellow-countrymen in America,
because of what seems to me unnecessary fault-finding.
But although I have not been unready to protest against
it, both in public and privately, even when it has not been
unfair, I must confess that the English fault-finding 1 have
heard about things American has not been comparable for
virulence with the American fault-finding I have heard
about things English. The ways of (too many) Americans
in this respect are well illustrated by Mr. Higginson's
article. He rebukes English manners because of a few
cases in which, according to his account. Englishmen have
not sufficiently admired American ways ; and he shows how
much he really objects to such want of consideration for
American feelings by insulting and abusing England and
Englishmen.

Mr. Higginson enters into details to show his sensitive-
ness. He tells us that no time can reconcile his American
ear to the heartiness with which an otherwise well-bred
English lady will talk frankly of " tubbing" and "cleaning
herself." (One can judge from this in what classes Mr.
Higginson has sought for samples of English manners. I
wili undertake to say that no English lady ever speaks, in
social converse, about " tubbing"- -I doubt if any English
\&Ay ever uses the expression — while a woman who should
speak of "cleaning herself" would be set down by an'
Englishman a.s undoubtedly a servant-girl, charwoman, or
the like. He would not be deceived either into regarding

250

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

her as " otherwise well bred," though her breeding might
" otlierwise " do very well for Mr. Higginson.) This
fastidious American is troubled because the most eminent of
Englisli poets spoke of some bad verse as "rot," and
because Mr. James Payn wrote, " I hate people who ' stink '
of money." * Quis tulerit Gracchos de sedifioii.e quercntes ?
The countrymen of Mark Twain, Bret Ilarte, Artemus
Ward, and a host of others who have written whole pages
of coarse buffoonery (but also much exquisite fooling),
speaking of a strong word or two from Englishmen is a
trifle too rich. Does Mr. Higginson imagine that because
Americans have fallen into a habit of regarding particular
words with disfavour which in England are used without
offence to express disfavour, Englishmen are to be called
coarse and offensive for using those words as of yore 1
Before he thus rebukes Englishmen, he should consider the
case of his own countrymen, who have taken into favour
and use freely certain words which in England have been
from time immemorial regarded as improper. [1 am simply
unable to mention these words, because they are never used
in polite society.] I take no exception to their being used
in America, where they have no unpleasant significance ;
but it is simply absurd for one who uses these words freely,
and hears the women of his family use them without
offence, to be angry with Englishmen for using in their
customary significance words which are not offensive to
English ears.

Obviously the great fault of English manners with
Americans of Mr. Higginson's kind is what is regarded
as our thick-skinnedness. In reality an Englishman,
though he does not wince or flinch when an American
of the ruder sort tries to goad him to anger, feels the blow
as keenly as the most sensitive American. But our whole
system of training teaches us to take such blows as if we
felt them not, repaying them though in due time, and with
a serenity which suggests the mistaken notion that the
return blow has not been provoked. f In ninety-nine cases
out of a hundred, when one hears of British arrogance, he
may infer that it has been roused by non-British insolence.

* " Oh, your niceties ; I know wliat tliey are," said Felix. " They
all go on your system of make-believo. ' Rottenness ' may suggest
what is unpleasant, so you'd better say ' sugar-plums,' or some-
thing else such a long way off the fact that nobody is obliged to
think of it. Those arc your roundabout euphuisms that dress up
swindling till it looks as well as honesty." Men like Mr. Higginson
would make English readers believe that all Americans are nastily
minded. This, however, would be unfair in the extreme.

•f In October 1873 I landed at New York for a few hours (our
ship having arrived late) with three fellow-passengers and one of
the officers. At the Fifth Avenue Hotel we were looking round the
large hall in front of the office bureau, crowded .as usual with
Americans of all classes, from the loafer to the business man. We
were soon recognised as Englishmen (" blarsted Britishers," as the
polite American expression puts it), and a group of some twenty
Americans, any one of whom would have been grievously offended
if he had not been regarded as a gentleman, thought the oppor-
tunity a good one to divert the profuseness of their blasphemy from
things in general to things British, abusing above all the Royal
Family and especially the Queen, as a sure way of testing the thick-
skinnedness of the Britishers. Our serenity was not disturbed by
the cads, who seemed more moved by our silent contempt than they
would have been had wo met their rowdy ways by rowdy action.
Now it so happened that the very next day two of the I'owdies pre-
sented themselves to me — more Americano — on business, I do not
know whether they recognised me, as I did them. Anyhow,
they did not allow the occasion to pass without asking me how I
liked America. When I replied that I had been too short a time
ashore to form .an opinion, but that it seemed to rae the lower
classes swore abominably .and were exceedingly ill-mannered, they
both had grace enough to turn very red with wratli. I am satisticJ,
however, they described my comments afterwards as due to sheer
British arrogance, not to contempt and natural indignation at their
conduct overnight.

SCIENCE SHAMED BY GREED OF GAIN.

NGLISII science has had to be ashamed
occasionally of the ways of the scientific
mendicant, who, in the course of what he
calls the Physical P^ndowment of Research,
has made vain promises and idle boasts,
till Science has blushed for the ways of
those who use her name for their own pur-
poses. Science does not inquire her servants
to be wageless. As the exponent of religion is not thought
to shame religion by holding that the labourer, even in
religious fields, is worthy of his hire, so is it with those
who, working faithfully in the cau.se of Science, deem them-
selves entitled to just wages for their work, without which
indeed they might be obliged to turn for maintenance from
the work for which they are fit to law, medicine, religion,
or commerce. But Science requires that there shall be no
false pretences. The work done must be done zealously,
and must be worth the wages claimed. Promises which the
student of Science knows to be vain — such, for example, as
in old times the promise to read or rule the stars, or in our
own days to predict the world's weather from sunspots —
Science " cannot away with " ; and whether the wages asked
for worthless work be high or low, the pittance of a country
curate or such splendid incomes as our clamourers for
endowment have suggested as appropriate. Science regards all
such claims as discreditable if not dishonest.

But it would seem that there are deeper depths than any
which Science had yet known. None of the advocates of
physical endowment have yet, so far as we know, actually
claimed money for making suggestions. None of them have
claimed a jn'ice for time given to the discussion of one of
their physical observatories, even when such time has been
their own ; and I should trust that even the most barefi\ced
among the mendicants of Science would not think of asking
such a, price for time not his own so used, time taken from
work in some well-salaried office.

This achievement was reserved for an American scientist.
Mr. E. S. Holden, the same man who selected the respect-
able columns of the Atlantic Monthh/ to make false and
libellous personal charges against me, who abused me for
being led by the success of my first work, " Saturn and its
System " (a dismal failure commercially), to endeavour to
get money for literary work, as if that were dishonest, and
showed the nature of his purpose by blindly vituperating,
as if he had read it, a book of mine which was not published
till fourteen years later, this man — so zealous for purity of
purpose in scientific work, that he denounced honest work
because, as he supposed, it had been successful — has just
done that which I venture to predict will stand out in the
records of science as the most discreditable act of which any
man of science has yet been guilty.

During the last twelve years, Mr. Ilolden has written
certain letters conveying suggestions in regard to the Lick
Observatory, which (most unfortunately for science) has
been placed in his charge instead of being entrusted to one
of the many skilful observers America possesses. He has
also made some few journeys of insjjection, the expenses of
which have in all cases been paid. The time thus em-
ployed has in reality belonged to others, since he has all the
while held highly salaried oflice, and latterly has been
president of the State University of California, to which
the Lick Observatory has been presented.

In the meantime a host of better men, men who know
what telescopic work really is, have been ready with
valuable advice and assistance. I suppose what Mr. Burn-
ham, for example, has done in this way outvalues fifty-fold
anything which has been suggested by the man who at

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

251

'Washington could do notliing of the least worth with the
26-inch telescope, nothing original at all — except the dis-
cover)' of an impossible third satellite of Mars, which would
make old Kepler turn in his gi-ave if only astronomers
would accept it. (They ai-e about as likely to do so as to
believe in a total eclipse of a half-full moon.) Every
American astronomer worthy the name has been interested
in the great telescope, and delighted to do anything in the
way of suggestion or aj-sistance to develop its chances of
success.

But the Ti-ustees of the Lick Observatory- have had a
.sudden surprise, which might make them unwilling to
accept in future the assistance or advice of students of
science were they not able to form a tolerably clear idea
of the exceptional nature of the man they have to deal with.
Mr. Holden has sent in a claim for six thousand dollars
for his advice — " services rendered " he puts it. As the
Trustees justly point out, if all the rest of those who have
helped valued their services at the same rate, the Trust
wouhl be bankrupt. They therefore disallow his claim,
setting aside 10,000 dollars (from the sum they were pre-
paring to hand over to the I'niversity of California) to meet
the possible expenses of legally resisting Mr. Holden's suit.

The Trustees of the Lick Observatory believe that Mr.
Holden will withdraw his claim. And very likely he will
— if his legal advisers tell him he has no chance of getting
the money. But whether he withdraw it or not, he can
never remove the disgrace which his claim has brought upon
science; for a position has been given to him in the world
of science — not by any scientific work which he has done
(for he has done none of any value), but by the mistake
which learned bodies, in England as well as elsewhere, have
made in conferring distinctions on him which in some cases
they declined to bestow on fellow-countrymen of his (the
late Dr. Henry Draper, for example) incomparably his
superiors. I repent me that I did not, when, I fear, it was
my duty to be outspoken, prevent, as I could most surely
have done, his election to the foreign associateship of the
Eoyal Astronomical Society, a body which must now in
some degi'ee share the disgiace which Mr. Holden's claim
has brought upon all scientific bodies with which his name
can in any way be associated.

THE EARTH'S UNRECORDED PAST.

EGARDING our earth as a member of the
solar system — the chief member of that
set of so-called terrestrial planets which
form the sun's special family — the astro-
nomer studies her witli special interest as
the one planet which can be thoroughly
examined. The work of the geologist
becomes on this account especially important to the .student
of astronomy. He does not require, indeed, to have that
detailed knowledge of geological matters which is essential
to the student of geology ; but, on the other hand, he
requires a much fuller and at the same time more exact
knowledge of geology than many imagine. He should
have, in fact, the same sort of knowledge of geology that
Humboldt had of astronomj' — a knowledge sufficient to
enable him to weigh and appreciate the theories as well as
the facts of a science which, though outside his special
domain, so closely adjoins it, that without such knowledge
the study even of that special domain of his must be im-
perfect. Fortunately the exact study of one department of
science, though it cannot help in itself to enable any one to
come to sound conclusions in rt gai d to another, yet surely

protects him against the risk of forming unsound or pai-a-
doxical theories, for he knows from the study of his own
science what is essential to the formation of just opinions in
another. Hence the student of astronomy sees that he
must study the results of the labours and researches of
geologists thoroughly, though generally. He h;is to take
only a bird's-eye view of geology, but the view must be
taken from a propei' standpoint, so that no illusions may
affect its general accuracy, and, moreover, the surve}' must
be complete, not partial.

Let us see how the astronomer is led to study the geology
of the earth.

We recognise our earth as having in the beginning of her
career passeil through that suulike state whose general
conditions we can study in the sun. Doubtless there were
important ditferences of detail, due chieHy to the immense
inferiority of the earth in point of size and mass, just as
there are important differences between the first stages of
an oak's life and the first stages of the life of a fuchsia,
between the beginnings of the life of a fly or a bee and those
of the life of a lion or an elephant. Still, in all its more
general characteristics the conditions of our earth in the
earliest stages of her existence as a separate orb were the
characteristics of a sun. The greater portion of her mass
must then have been in the vaporous state, even the
stubborn metals adding their vapours to the complex atmo-
sphere which, in reality, formed then the largest portion
alike of her mass and of her volume. Movements akin to
those which are taking place all the time in the sun, as well
as disturbances akin to those which from time to time alter
the aspect of his photosphere, must have taken place in the
earth when she was in the sunlike stage of her career.

Later, after millions of years indeed, for it is by such
periods we must measure the lift-time of a world like our
earth, large poitions of the matter which had been vaporous
became liquid, and eventually solid. It would be more
correct, however, to say that as time progressed a larger and
larger proportion of the materials forming the earth's mass
became liquid, and a larger and ever-growing proportion
solid. For just as even at this day not a single drop of the
waters of the sea is permanently liquid, not a cubic inch of
the polar glacial masses permanently solid, 'so must it have
been in the earlier stages of the earth's career with the
molten materials formed by cooling from gaseous matter,
and with much, at any rate, of the solid materials formed
by cooling from molten matter. There must have been
continual interchange of condition between the solid, liquid,
and vaporous states in the case of neaily all the elements
and compounds at first, and of the greater number of the
elements, until a great advance had been made — which must
have required many millions of years — to the sfcite of
matters existing now, when oxygen and nitrogen are the
only elements free in cosmically large amount, and water
the only compound substance which is free to assume in
large quantities the vaporous and solid states, in addition
to its customarily liquid condition.

The progress of the earth through the second important
career of her life as an independent orb was doubtless
characterised by a steady diminution on the whole of the pro-
portion of vaporous matter in her mass as compared with
liquid and solid matter, and of liquid as compared with solid
matter. There must also have been a steady diminution in
the number of substances present in large quantities ani/-
vhere in the vaporous form. In an early part of this stage
of the earth's career the metals and metalloids would for the
most part either solidify or enter into such chemical com-
binations as would make them parts of solid bodies. More
and moie of the surface of the forming earth would thus
become solid, though doubtless there was very little perma-

252

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

nence in the solid crust formed in various parts of the earth
iu this stage of her career. Immense tracts of liquid surface
would solidify through some relatively slight chacges of tem-
perature or other conditions ; hut the crust thus formed would
be fissured from time to time by the seething liquid masses
beneath ; and often large regions of fiery hot crust would be
converted suddenly into the liquid condition through the
action of currents of hotter matter rising underneath them.
Or, as large fields of ice are carried now by ocejxnic currents
into regions where they are melted by the warmer waters
around them, so in those eai-lier days of the earth would
immense ti-acts of glowing crust be carried to regions where
they would melt in the fervour of the hotter liquid beneath
them, and resume the liquid condition out of which they had
for a time passed.

Among the substances now mostly liquid which must
have been almost wholly vaporous throughout the second
stage of the eai-th's orb-life, water of course must be regarded
as the most important. Water could not have rested, in
the liquid state, on the intensely hot surface of our earth in
this part of her life. It is true that the atmosphere must
have been far more dense then than now, because it must
have included immense quantities of gaseous and vaporous
matter not now present in it except in very small amount :
and under such an atmosphere water might be heated till it
shone with its own inherent light, without being converted
into steam. But the temperature of the crust must have
been greater even than this would imply. And though a
few lakes and pools of red hot water may have gathered
from time to time on the ever moving white hot crust of the
earth, yet far the larger portion of the water must have
lieen vaporised, forming a vast atmosphere of steam, which
close by the earth's glowing surface would be self-luminous.
At considerable heights above that surface the steam would
condense in the form of visible clouds, not .self-luminous, but
lit up on their inner side by the fiery surface of the
crust beneath. Probably seveial layers of clouds would
form at different heights. The lowermost layer would give
off vapour from its upper side, to rise to a greatei- height,
and form by fresh condensation another layer, only illu-
minated by such liglit from the crust as passed between the
clouds of the lowest layer. And the process would pro-
bably be repeated in such sort that several layers would be
formed enclosing the earth's real globe at different distances
from its glowing surface. What the depth of the complex
atmosphere of the earth in that stage of her career may have
been, it is not easy to determine. For what we know of the
sun and (less certainly but still clearly enough) of the giant
planets, shows that the laws of the gaseous pressure and
density prevailing within such limits as bound the experi-
ments of our physicists, do not hold at the high temperatures
and tx-emendous pressures existing certainly in the sun and
giant planets, and almost as certainly in our earth's dense atmo-
sphere when she was in the first two stages of her planet life.
To show that this is so, it is only necessary to note that,
whereas terrestrial experiments have taught that there is a
critical temperature for each gas, at higher temperature than
which no amount of pres.sure will produce liquefaction, were
this true of the sun, not only would every particle of his
substance be vaporous, but density increasing with pressure
in gases and vapours (except where liquefaction is ap|iroach-
ing, which is not here the case), the compression would be .so
great even a few thousand miles below the visible limits of
his atmosphere that the density even of hydrogen would be
greater many times than that of platinum, the heaviest
element known on earth. We not only know that this is
impos.sible, but that the mean density of the sun, insteiid of
being thus enormous, is only about a fourth of the mean
density of the earth. We can infer from this that under

the conditions existing when our earth was in the sun- like
and fiery stages of her career, an atmosphereof great extent,
with probably many successive layers of cloud, surrounded
her fiery globe, whose partly liquid partly solid surface,
though glowing with a white heat, probably could pour no
portion of its light thi'ough the enwrapping cloud-masses.

We may also confidently infer that in the earth's deep
atmosphere in this earlier stage of her life, vertical move-
ments of great energy took place, as immense volumes of
compressed vapours (not steam alone) were flung upwards
with tremendous energy in volcanic explosions, or as cloud
masses in which whole seas of water were contained gave
birth to cataracts (rather than torrents) of intensely hot
water, stronglj- charged with destructive acids. We may
have to look to other planets for evidence that such vertical
displacements do actually take place during the earlier stages
of world life. Yet,- reasoning on what our earth's condition
must have been at such stages in her life, or on what it
would now be if she were placed as in some vast crucible
and heated throughout her whole frame till her crust shone
white again, we see that vertical movements of both kinds,
eruptional or upwards and torrential or downwards, cannot
but have been constantly in progress throughout her deep,
complex, and cloud-laden atmosphere. Such movements, by
altering the distance of the moving masses from the axis of
rotation, would cause either a lagging or a relative advance
of these masses amongst those into which they were ascend-
ing or descending respectively — in other words, bands or
zones of vaporous or cloudlike nature, akin to the zones of
Jupiter and Saturn, foinied in the deep and complex
atmosphere of the earth at that stage of her orb-life.

After millions more of years the earth became ready to
enter on that part of her existence which may be called her
life-bearing career. Not everywhere on her surface at once,
but in certain regions — possibly the polar portions — where
the cooling was first suflicient, certain lower forms of life,
scarcely distinguishable then as vegetable and animal, wovild
lie possible. Appaiently the conditions which rendered
them possible were also such as to bring about their genera-
tion— we know not how, and still le.ss do we know why.
^Multitudinous germs of life, not necessarilj' multitudinous
in form, possibly including but a few forms, possibly but a
single form, must have appeared on the earth iu a very
early portion of the present stage of her life — millions of
years probably liefoi-e the era to which geologists attribute
the Archaean or most ancient rocks of the earth (preceding
those called primary by geologists), for from such germs
alone could the forms of life which we recogni.se in the
fossils of the lowest of the primary rocks have been
develojjed. So much we are assiired of; but as to the
manner in which such germs of life came into existence,
and the way in which the property we call vitalit)' came to
belong to them, we know no more than we do of the manner
in which the materials of which suns and planets have been
formed came first to be, or of the way in which those
materials came to have the specific properties which we
know they possess.

It is not even from the stage thus reached, remote in the
past as it must be, that we can trace the earth's record.
Millions of years must have passed before the simple
primordial forms of life, animal and vegetable, had developed
(along certain lines) into the specialised and often highly
complex forms found in the lowest of the geological strata.
Of the interval we have scarcely even any records in the
material changes which took place as the Arch;ean rocks
were forming. It is scai-celj' to lie hoped that any traces ot
life of that ante-piimary era will ever be discovered, so un-
favourable were all the conditions for the preservation ot
animal or vegetable remains.

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

253

KEY MAP TO THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

HE accompanying map is intended for the
use of those who possess the series of twelve
Southern Maps which were completed in
Knowledge for January last. If a tracing
were made on sufficiently transparent paper,
this tracing placed over any one of those
maps would serve to indicjite where the
southern horizon, with the several points E., S.E., S., S.W.,
and W., falls for the latitudes named. But a better plan is
for the observer in any of the latitudes mentioned to cutout
a piece of paper in the form of an arc, the up[)er edge of

which corresponds to the pictured arc for that latitude.
Then having marked the above-named cardinal points along
it, he can bring the east and west ends of the arc to
coincidence with the points E. and W. on proper map for
the date and hour of observation. The stars seen in the
chart along and above that arc will then be the stars above
the horizon from east through south to west at the ob.server's,
station.

Thus will the maps serve to show the stars over far
the greater part of the heavens visible from northern
latitudes, and all the stars visible in southern lati-
tudes from the equator to the most southerly inhabited

254

* KNOWLKDGE ♦

[Septembee 1, 1888.

MAPS AND VIEWS OF MARS.

IGIA^E this month the long-promised map of Mai-s,
accompanied by what may be called a picture map,
and by a series of projections showing Mars not as actually
seen on any special occasion, but as he would appear if my
maps are correct, the air of Mars free from clouds, and
observing conditions favourable ; only I have included
meridians and latitude-parallels which have not yet, I

presume, been marked by Martian races on the surface of
theu- world, though so to mark them would be child's
play compared with the construction of those double canals
in which Signor Schiaparelli and M. Perrotin believe.

The maps and projections require no explanation. The
history of the researches which have led to the determina-
tion of the various features of the planet will be found in
part viii. of my '• Old and New Astronomy," to be published
on November 1.

MiDscMiiKa (Sontljern).

Versal Eijcixox (Southern).

Midwinter (Sonthern).

AUTLM.NAL E(jUDio.x (Southern).

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

255

I may remark, however, with regard to the names which
I have used for indicating continents and seas, that while in
the main I have followed the nomenclature adopted in my
former chart as corrected in that respect by Mr. Green, I
have not adopted all his changes, and I have introduced
some changes of my own. I never intended my first
nomenclature to be definite ; indeed, I adopted it merely
for convenience of reference in a work of my own on the
planet — planned like my " Saturn and its System," but not
accepted by publishers as likely to be commercially success-
ful, so that " my poverty but not my will " forceil me to
withdi-aw it from an unappreciative community. Mr. Green
was quite right in pointing out that some names were used
too often — Mr. Dawes's name, for instance, was given to a
Continent, an Ocean, a Sea, an Island, a Bay, and so forth.
That was all very well for my plan, but not in a chart for
general reference. Mr. Green altered and added freely ;
somewhat too freely, indeed, doing what has always seemed
to me undesirable, in crowding in a number of names of
living pei-sons (my own included), after a fashion recalling
Mr. Birt's preposterous additions to the names of lunar
craters. In omitting many of these I have taken the oppor-

tunity to substitute unobjectionable names (which may be
regarded as only temporary) for some of those which had
been unsatisfactorily named in my former chart. Mist
Island, Windy Land, Cloud Land, Cape Steadfast, Gloomy
Sea, and the like, are names which, while altogether free
from objection in themselves, correspond with the actual
appearance of the features named.

Of Signor Schiaparelli's classical nomenclature I can only
say that, judging from what one hears when papers are read
or discussed at the rooms of the Astronomicixl Society, there
are not nine of Schiaparelli's names out of ten which would
be properly pronounced, even if observers and astronomers
generally could be expected to fix in their memories a series
of sesquipedalian and, for the most part, entirely unmeaning
names. The nomenclature belongs to the affectations by
which men of science, who ought to have known better,
have brought ridicule on science and on themselves.
ilachina Pnmmatica for a constellation, Margaritifer
Sinus for a Martian feature. Chromosphere and Leuco-
sphere for solar appendages, and all such absurdities,
should have no existence among sensible students of
science.

MANX AND WELSH FAIRIES.

By Stella Occidens. (Mary Proctor.)

la oldfe dayes of the King Artour

Of which the Breton spoke great honour,

All was this lond fulfilled of faerie ;

Tlie elf-queene with her jolie companie

Danced full oft in meny a grene mede.— Chaucer.

E fairy folk-lore of the Isle of Man, which
was early peopled by the Celts, is very like
that of England. Their fairies are called
Good People, though they scarcely deserve
thi.s name, since fiom all accounts they are
the most mischievous imps in existence.
They steal little children out of their
cradles, leaving ugly changelings in their place, and are
also very fond of talking midnight rides on stolen steeds,
which the owners find in the stable next morning covered
with foam and sweat, and nearly tired to death.

The Phynnodderee, or Hairy One, of Man, is like the
Brownie or Ivobold, and his story is a sad one. When he

should have been in attendance at the Fairy Court on the
occasion of the Ri'-holli/s vooar yn ouyr, or harvest moon,
he was dancing in the merry glen of Eushen with a pretty
Manx maiden. For this grave offence he was banished
from Fairyland and doomed to wander about the Isle of
Man till Doomsday, in a wild form, covered with long
shaggy hair. He is a good-natured spirit, often helping
farmers to cut hay or drive cattle home before a storm. On
one occasion he carried some huge blocks of stone from the
beach to a place near the foot of Snafield Mountain, and the
owner rewarded him by leaving a whole suit of clothes in
one of his favourite haunts. The Phynnodderee, on finding
them, lifted them one by one, singing dolefully mean-
while : —

" If these be .ill thine, thine cannot be the merry glen of
Rushen," and, giving a melancholy wail, he disappeared and
has never been seen since. The old Manx folks say " there
has not been a merry world since he lost his ground."

An account given of a fairy banquet in Man recalls the
well-known legend of the " Luck of Edenhall." It is
related that a farmer was returning home across the fields

of music in the dis-

one evening, when he heard sound;

256

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

tance. Presently he came to a band of little folks who
were feasting merrily, and who persuaded the farmer to join
them. He did so, and was much surprised when a little
man plucked him by the sleeve, and warned him not to
taste anything that was placed before him. " For if you
do," said the little man, "you will be as I am, and return
no more to your fcimily." The farmer followed his advice,
and when a .silver goblet was handed to him, he spilled the
contents on the ground. At daybreak the music ceased,
and the faii-ies vanished, leaving the farmer with the silver
goblet in his hand. He returned home, feeling very tired,
and next day he went to the parish priest for advice with
regard to the silver goblet. The latter told him that he had
better give it to the church, and it is still to be seen in
Kii'k Merlugh.

Fairies and hobgoblins are firmly believed in still by the
peasantry in the southern counties of Glamorgan, Car-
marthen, and Pembroke. The fairies are called y Dynon
Bach Teg, i.e. The Little Fair People. The bells of the fox-
glove are called elves-gloves, and the mushroom, elves-food.
These little beings ai-e supposed to be the souls of the
ancient Druids, who were not quite good enough to go to
heaven, nor bad enough to go to the other place ; so they
are allowed to wander about till the Day of Judgment,
when they will join the ranks of the elect, and "read their
title clear to mansions in the skies."

They are very fond of music and dancing, especially on
bright moonlight nights. A story is told about two farm-
servants, called Rhys and Llewellyn, who were returning
home from their work in the twilight. Hearing strains of
music, Ehys could not resist dancing, and in a moment had
danced far ahead of his companion. The latter, on arriving
home without Rhys, was suspected of murder, and thrown
into prison. Luckily, a farmer who was well acquainted
with fairy- lore, believed Llewellyn's story, and told him to
lead him to the place where he had heard the music. They
came to the spot, which was "green as mounl.ain-ash," and,
as Llewellyn stepped within the magic-circle, he heard the
most enchanting strains, and beheld Rhys amid a merry
band of dancers. His friends had to use all their strength
to pull him out of the ling and force him to return home.
He was not at all pleased at their interference, insisting that
he had only been dancing for five minutes, and was not
ready to go home yet. He became melancholy mad, and
died a short time afterwards, it is said ; and the next morn-
ing one of the villagers, who passed near the fairy-circle,
" found the edge of the ring quite red, as if trodden down,"
and the marks of little heels the size of a thumbnail.

These fairies are fond of hunting, and have been seen
riding on little white horses no bigger than dogs, whilst
the sound of a bugle-horn and the huntsman's halloo could
be plainly heai-d. A man who was crossing over Bedwellty
Mountains one night heard sounds of music, and in a
moment was surrounded by fairies. Having heard that
they will disappear at the sight of cold steel, the man drew
out a knife and they instantly vanished. In the same way
feiries who have married mortals have been known to
disappear on being touched with iron. A man who had
married a fairy tossed a bridle to his bride, and, the bit
touching her, she flew through the air at once, and plunged
headlong into Corwriou Lake.

A similar legend is told about a most romantic spot
among the mountains of Carmai-then It is called " The Van
Pools," and is said to be haunted by " the spirit of the Van."
She appears at midnight on New Year's Eve, and is said to
be " dressed in a white robe, bound by a golden girdle. Her
hair is long and golden, her face is pale and melancholy ; she
sits in a golden boat, and manages a golden oar." She had
married a farmer on condition that he should never know

her name, or strike her, especially with iron, for he would
then lose her for ever. After a little while he forgot his
promise, and on two occasions, when she had vexed him, he
struck her. The thii'd time they were ploughing together,
he guiding the plough and she driving the horses. The
horses going wrong, the farmer threw something at them
which hit his wife, and in a moment she disappeared
beneath the waters of the Lake Van Pool.

A man who wished to see the fairies made an appoint-
ment with an old gipsy to meet her by moonlight on the top
of Craig y Dinis. She washed his eyes with a wonderful
lotion, helping him to see thousands of little beings all
dressed in white, and dancing to the sound of harps.

" They then placed themselves on the edge of the hill,
and, sitting down and putting their hands round their knees,
they tumbled down one after another, rolling head over
heels, till they disappeared in the valley." For some time
the sound of their harps could be heard, gradually dying
away in the distance.

A mischievous little being called Pwcca, resembling our
English Puck, used to haunt Wales ; and in Brecon there
is a spot called Cwm Pwcca, or Puck's Glen, where he is
still to be seen.

A man who was returning home late one night saw a
little wee man a few j-ards ahead of him carrying a light.
He followed him, and Pwcca (for it was he) led him to the
very edge of the precipice Cwm Pwcca, when, holding the
light high above his head, he gave an impish laugh and
vanished in the valley below, leaving the man in utter
darkness.

The Welsh foiries are like the Irish with regard to stealing
babies out of their cradles, leaving ugly little changelings in
their place. In Brittany a similar belief prevails. There
was constant intercourse at one time between the inhabit-
ants of Wales and those of Lesser Britain, as it was then
called ; in fact, the Bretons and British were of one blood,
so that their fairy folk-loi-e is almost the same.

In Glamorganshire a legend is told which is not irnlike
the following related in Brittany : —

A mother whose child had been stolen by the fairies
prayed to the Virgin for help. She was advised to " i)re-
pare a meal for ten farm-servants in an egg-shell," which
will make the Korrid speak; she is then to whip him till he
cries, and when he does his mother will come and take him
away. The mother did as she was told, and when the
changeling saw the strange meal prepared he exclaimed :
" I have seen the egg before I saw the white hen ; I have
seen the acorn before I saw the tree ; I have seen the oak
in the wood of Bruzal, but never saw I such a thing as this."
" Thou hast seen too many things, my son," replied the
mother, and she began to whip him, when his mother came
to her crying : " Do not beat him, give him back to me ; I
have not done yours any injury. He is king in his own
country." When the mother went home she was rejoiced
at finding her own child asleep in the cradle.

The Breton fairies are divided into two classes — the Fays
or Koi'rigans, and the Dwarfs or Korreds. The Korrigans
are beings two feet high, with long flowing hair, which they
are always coml)ing carefully. They wind a long white veil
around their bodies, and at night their beauty is ravishing ;
but in the daytime their eyes appear red, their hair white, and
their f\ices wrinkled [even such tales have been told of some
ladies of the corps de hallel]. The Korrigans, though fond
of music, do not care much about dancing. Once a year,
on the first of May, they have a great feast, during which
a crystal goblet is passed around, and those who drink the
magic potion it contains become all-wise and can foretell
the future.

The Korrigan is like the Elle-maid of Scandinavia, and

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLKDGE ♦

257

in the same way the Korreds resemble the Trolds. They
are shoi-t and stumpy, with shaggy hair, small deeply-set
eyes, and wrinkled f;ices. Their voices are thin and cracked,
their hands like a cat's paws, and their feet are horny like a
goat's. They are spiteful and vicious. They are very fond
of dancing, but woe to the belated shepherd who comes
across them during their midnight revels I They dance
around the ilolmen (stone-tables, also called by this name
in Devon and Cornwall), and any one who is forced to join
in their roundel must keep it up till cockcrow. The poor
victim " is mercilessly whirled about till he falls down
breathless and exhausted, amidst the peals of laughter of
the dwarfs, who all vanish at break of day." *

Breton folk-songs tell us of underground passages called
querlich's holes or Korred's grottoes, where great treasures
are kept. Sometimes the dwarfs take them from one place
to another; and if any one passes by at the time they are
allowed to take a handful, but no more. Should a rash
mortal venture to fill his pockets the money vanishes, and
he " is assailed by boxes on the ear from invisible hands."

A Breton farmer thought he would try his luck ; and one
moonlight night, when the dwarfs were absent on a gay
frolic, he stole some treasure out of a Korred's hole. He
hastened home, and hid it under some tiles in the kitchen
floor, afterwards covering the whole place with burnt ashes
and ember.'i.

About midnight the farmer heard the little imps creeping
in stealthily through a hole in the wall. But what a howl-
ing and lamentation they set up when they trod on the
burning embers. The farmer chuckled to himself at their
discomfiture, but his mirth was soon changed to consterna-
tion when they revenged themselves by smashing every piece
of crockery he possessed. At daybreak they all vanished,
saying, " In lannik-ann-Trevon's house we burnt our horny
feet ; but we made a fine mess of his crocker}'." t

NORTH ATLANTIC ICEBERGS.:

CEBERGS are a great source of danger to
Transatlantic navigation from March to August
every year. This is the season in which the
expected proximity of these dread masses of
ice demands from the mariner an increased
vigilance. Sometimes, but veiy seldom, bergs
have been fallen in with much earlier. On
New Year's Day, 1844, a berg was passed by the Stdly in
45 N. 48 W., and this j'ear, on January 3, one was reported
in almost the same position. Tiie northern ice barrier is
broken up by the increasing power of the sun's rays as he
travels northward along the ecliptic. Fields of ice, some-
times having an area of one hundred square miles, are
detached, and a free exit afforded for the imprisoned icebergs.
Icebergs and field ice are borne to the southward by the
cold current that follows the bend of the land from Labrador
to Florida. Field ice is formed on the sea surface during
the Arctic winter, but bergs have their origin far inland,
and are the growth of years. Greenland glaciers glide
gradually down their gentle slopes into the sea, and the
upward pressure of the water breaks off their snouts to
form the icebergs of the North Atlantic. Some hardy
Norwegians are about to cross Greenland, and intend to
make a special study of the movement of the coast glaciers

* Grimm, "Teutonic Mythology," p. 466. In Norse legends
reappears the trick of engaging a trold in conversation till the snn
is risen ; when he looks round and sees the sun he splits in two.
The same oocvu-s in the story of Rumpelstilzchen.

t Keightley's " Fairy Mythology."

j From the Ziverj/ool Journal of Commerce,

and this setting afloat of bergs. Ancient glaciers have
written their story on the mountains of Great Brifcrin, and
bergs were formed a little way off the west coast of Ireland
during the glacial epoch.

There exists a marked difierence in form betnreen the
bergs of the two hemispheres. Arctic bergs are of irregular
shape, with lofty pinnacles, cloud-capped towers, and
glittering domes, whereas the southern bergs are fiat-topped
and solid-looking. The former reach the sea by narrow
fiords, but the formation of the latter is more regular. It
is well to give these splendid specimens of Nature's hand-
work a wide berth, for they frequently turn somersaults
owing to the wasting away of their immersed portions.
Immense pieces of ice fell from a berg on to the deck of a
ship that had approached too close to it while in this transi-
tory state, carrying away her masts and maiming some of
the crew. Again, ships have been sunk by colliding with
submerged portions of bergs, extending from their visible
volume like reefs of rocks from a bold sea coast. Hayes
compared one that he saw to the Colossus of Rhodes. His
ship could have sailed under the arch of ice formed in the
heart of the berg.

North Atlantic bergs are neither so large nor so numerous
as those met with in the Southern Ocean, between the Falk-
land Islands and the Cape of Good Hope. In 1854-.'i5 an
enormous ice Island was drifting in about 42 S. 24 W., for
several months, and wa.s passed by many ships. It was
300 feet high, 60 mUes long, and 40 miles wide, and was in
shape like a horseshoe. Its two sides enclosed a sheltered
bay measuring 40 miles across ! A large emigrant ship, the
Guiding Star, sailed into this icy bay and was lost with all
hands. A similar but smaller mass of ice was met with in
the North Atlantic by the Agra. She ran into a bay
formed in the centre of an iceberg, in 42 N., which was
H mile across, and she experienced great difficulty in beating
out again.

A cubic foot of ice weighs about 930 ounces, but the same
volume of sea water weighs 1,280 ounces. Hence ice floats
on water, and but one-ninth of the volume of a berg is
exposed to view. There are several well-authenticated
instances of bergs one thousand feet high having been
sighted in the Southern Ocean, so that this would give the
total height of them a-s about nine thousand feet I — a fairly
good-sized mass of solid water. In May last year the
Inchgreen passed close alongside of a berg that Captain
Miller estimated had an altitude of se%-en hundred feet
above the sea surface and was seven miles long. Bergs
have often been seen grounded on the banks of Newfound-
land, where the deep-sea lead gave a depth of 650 feet.
Ross saw several stranded in BaiBn's Bay, where the depth
was 1,400 feet.

Bergs are unusually numerous in some years, and a con-
nection is said to have been traced between the frequency
of bergs in the North Atlantic and the low temperature in
our islands during the summers of some years. The ship
Swanton passed three hundred bergs in 1842 in 43 N. 50 W.
She narrowly escaped destruction during the night, as she
passed between two huge bergs that almost grazed her sides.
Captain (afterwards Rev. Dr.) Scoresby, while whaling in
the northern icy sea, counted no less than five hundred
bergs under way for the open waters of the Atlantic. Last
June the steamship Concordia passed seventy-eight large
bergs in a short space of time, as they lay aground in the
Straits of Belleisle. ThLs year the ice is both late and
scarce ; in 1883 it was very abundant. No forecast can be
made as to the probability of frequency of bergs. A vessel
has been so firmly fixed in the ice in the month of March
in 44 N. 45 W. that her master was able to take a stroll
on the ice. In 1841 several ships, stopped by ice in mid-

258

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

Atlantic, availed themselves of the opportunity to kill some
seala that were basking upon it.

Bergs have been seen in the North Atlantic laden with
lumps'of rock, sand, and soil. The banks of Newfoundland
would ajipear to have been formed iu this way. Arctic
lands sufler denudation by the inland ice as it creeps along
towards the sea, and the berijs, separated from their parent
glaciers, deposit the fragments at the bottom of the old
ocean, there to harden into rocks and help in moulding the
surface of the coast. Nothing is lost, nothing is new. In
August 1827 a berg was observed stranded in eighty-five
fathoms in 46. V N. 45 W. Much earth and rock were em-
bedded in its fissured sides. Polar bears and other Arctic
animals were .seen on the bergs of 1883. An abandoned
ship was passed high and dry on a huge ice island in 1794.
and a ship with her crew was seen similarly situated in
1845 ; but no help could be afforded. On April 21, 18.51,
the brig Renovrition passed an immense ice island, about
ninety miles to the eastward of St. John's, Newfoundland.
Two dismantled ships lay snugly upon it, but there was no
sign of life. Captain Ommanney, E.N., was deputed to
investigate this report, and took great pains to arrive at its
truth, as it was inferred that these ships were the Erebus
•and Terror, of Sir John Franklin's ill-fated expedition.
Some people are still of the same way of thinking. The
crew of the German discovery ship Uansa were compelled
to abandon their vessel, crushed by ice, and took refuge on
an immense floating mass of ice, where they remained for
eight months. Their floating ice island was seven miles in
circumference, and drifted south, until the poor fellows were
able to m.ake their escape. During this time they had lived
in a hut constructed from the co.al saved from their ship.
H.M.S. Resolute was abandoned embedded in the ice, but
was picked up after a long drift to the southward. This ice-
bearing current tends to make the American coast very
cold, and, as wo write, Sydney, C.B., is not yet open to navi-
gation, although it is 7 degrees further south than Liver-
pool. The warmer water of the Gulf Stream, on the other
hand, enables the whalers to get far to the northward, on
this side of the Atlantic, and makes the mean temperature
of Ireland in 52 degrees N. as high as that of American
coast ports in 38 degrees N., 14 degrees nearer to the
equator.

Many losses and casualties were caused by the ice in the
North Atlantic last .season. Masters should take frequent
observations of the temperature of the sea, although it must
not be relied upon as a specific indication. Warning may
often be obtained by means of the echo given oft' from a
berg when a steam whistle is sounded. No precaution must
be neglected by those who navig.ite our floating palaces and
ocean tramps, but the safest plan is to adopt a southerly
route clear of bergs. The Etrurla has followed this course
in her fastest passages. Our Admiralty charts show the
seasonal limits of bergs, and the United States Hydro-
graphical Office issues charts every month giving the exact
position of each berg up to the moment of going to press.
Notices of bergs passed at sea should be forwarded to
Washington immediately on arrival, and every berg reported
to us will receive due publicity in our columns.

Dollond'3 New (Patented) Tabulated Dark Slide.—
This invention will be found of the greatest service to those who go
scientifically into the details of the photographic art. The centre
panel of each slide is rcade of specially prepared vulcanite, and is
tabulated so that every particular maybe at once written on it with
lead pencil, thus doing away with the hitherto indispensable note-
book. All details, such as the subject taken, time of exposure,
stop employed, maker of dry plate, state of weather, ice, may be
readily registered. This invention will, or should, entirely prevent
the frequent mistake of exposing the same plate twice.

EASY

PROBLEMS IN THE
CALCULUS.

DIFFERENTIAL

o5— -. ;- ea\y
the diflerential

N" Knowledge for July I suggested
exercises, to be dealt with by
calculus, .and then geometrically to show the
superior genertility of the former method, these
two : —

To determine (i.) the cijUnder of greatest
volume; nn'i (ii.) tlie cylinder of greatest sur-
face, ivhich can be enclosed in a given sphere.

Let P Q R S be a cylinder enclosed within the sphere
A C B D, M O K being Ihe axis of the cylinder.

Let the angle P 0 B bi^ taken as our variable, and put
<P0 B = 6. The con.struction of the figure (omitting for the
present? the dotted lines) and its lettering needs no explana-
tion. Then, if r is the radius of the sphere,
PL^j'sin^; OL=rcos6; and
(i.) Vol. of cylinder P R=7r ?- cos^ d.2rsm0
= 2 7rr3cob2esine,
and the differential coelficient of this expression with respect
to 6 gives us the equation

cos^e--2cos.0sm'^6=0,
or cos6=;0 ;
and cos- 0='2 sin- 6 ; or cot ^= »/2.
Wherefore for a maximum 0 L should exceel P L, as v2
exceeds 1, or as a diagonal of a square exceeds a sides
[cos 6=0 obviously gives a minimum value],
(ii.) Area of cylinder PN,

= 2 TT r- cos- 0 + '2irr cos 6 . 2rsin0
=2 IT r^ (cos'- 9 + 2 cos 6 sin 6),
and for a maximum we must have

— 2 cos e sin ^ - 2 sin2 61 -t- 2 cos^ 6^= 0,
that is, 2 cos 2 (9=sin 2 0; or tan 2 6=0.
So that if we draw the tangent C E^i 0 B, and join OE,
0 P must bisect the angle E O B.

To solve the same problems geometrically, complete the

pqr6

dotted construction representing ]) grs, ti cylinder coaxial

with P Q R S, and having very nearly the same dimensions.

Then, first, if PQRS has the maximum volume, the

increment and the decrement in passing to the cylinder

s are ultimately equal. Hence

27rOL . LZ. 2nL=2 77(MP)2. Pn,

or 2 L; . wL=M P . Pn=0 L . Pn.

T -DT u \ 2PL Pn P« OL
(since n L=P L, ulty.), ---^= -p = — =iJr'

or f'^-^y==:2; and 0L=v"2 P L as before.

September 1, 1888.]

KNO\VLEDGE

259

The geometrical solution in this case is easy enough, as it
chances. In the following case the geometrical solution
is decidedly inferior to the analytical. For the area of the
cylinder, equating the increment to the decrement, -we
Lave — •

2x2r . OL. wp=2 . 2 7r. 2 (PL. OL-;W.OZ),
or 0L.n;>=2 [PL . OL-(PL-nP) (OL + Ll)];
= 2 (jiP . O L— P L . np) ; neglecting n P . L I, as
ultimately evanescent compared with the other terms in the
equation.

FL_2nP— ?tp_2 0L— PL

■■ OL 2np -ItL

(by similar triangles P^jm, OPL) or •2{0L'^-V1J) =
OL. PL;

whence, 2 (^^J j^-^ [;) =1,

i.e., 2cotPOL-2tanPOL=.l ;
whence 2 cos'^ P 0 L-2 sin^ P O L=:cos P 0 L . sin P 0 L,

the same rel.ation as by the other method, since PO L=^,
but obtained in a far less satisfactory manner.

The student will find it a useful exercise to deal next,
first by the differential calculus, and next by geometry, with
the following problems : —

Determine the cone of maximum area (i.) loithout inchulinri
base, and (ii.) including base, which can be enclosed loithin
a given sphere.

A correspondent in Bombay calls my attention to some
supposed misprints in my " Easy Lessons in the Differential
Calculus." One or two of these cases ai'e real misprints,
too easily to be detected, however, to requii'e correcting, the
rest are mistakes on my correspondent's part. He asks
further this question: — It is stated on p. 14 that if we
know the rate of increase of a quantity s (as another, t,
varies) to be a certain quantity gt, and also know this quantity

gt to be the differential coefiicient of another quantity i— ,

with respect to t, we can at once write

s=(7«- + some constant.
How, asks my correspondent, can this be regarded as
obvious 1 The answer is that the differential coefficient of a
quantity with respect to another has been already defined to
be the rate of increase of the former as the latter varies.
So that such a statement as my correspondent finds difficult
is in reality akin to such a statement as the following : — If
we know that the rate of increase of a certain property per
annum is 250Z., and also know that the only portion of the
property invested at 5 per cent, shows this annual increase
to be the interest on .5,000?., we can at once write
The property=5,000Z. + a constant portion bringing in no
interest.

6 0 £J£JIP»

By Eichaed A. Proctor.

Mb. T. Fr.\ser is very anxious that I should deal with
certain difficulties which have occurred to him in reading
my " Old and New Astronomy ; " and he is apparently
not aware how fully the consideration of these difficulties
will show the unlikelihood of his being able to deal with
the overwhelmingly difficult problem of the cause of gravity,
which he has made the subject of a pamphlet. I will
endeavour to discuss matters for him.

First, he asks me how I can reconcile my statement in
" Old and New Astronomy " that were the eccentricity of
the earth's orbit to disappear she would move in a circle

having a diameter equal to the major axis of the elliptic
orbit, with my statement in Knowledge that " if the
direction of a planet's motion when the planet is at its
mean distance is right, it will travel in a circle having that
mean distance for radius." Considering that the mean
distance in an elliptic orbit is equal to half the major axis,
while the radius of a circle is half the diameter, the two
statements seem to me to be rather obviously identical.

In sec. 502, p. 215, the words ''fig. 139" are, .as Mn
Fraser points out, a misprint, rather obviously for " fig. Hi."
If an author, in his anxiety to be understood, adds new
figures to make his original explanation more complete, it
will occasionally happen that all the references to the figures
whose numbers get altered will not be corrected. Still, no
reader who is really interested can, in such cases, be for a
moment misled ; and every such reader will prefer full
illustration to mere precision of references to illustrations
manifestly insufficient. As the number of figures in "Old
and New Astronomy," including plates, will run to over
six hundred, the ingenuous and generously minded reader
will perceive that there is more room for an occasional slip
(not really disturbing the student's progress for a moment)
than in works where the illustrations are counted only by
tens or twenties. Mr. Fraser's supposition that H H' in
section 503 should be h h' is mistaken.

* * *

Mr. Fraser objects to the use of the same letters,
accented or unaccented, capital or small, in such cases, as
they involve a strain on the memory, because you have to
siy " capital H," " small h," " accented H," " unaccented A,"
and so on — whereas he does " not know any argument by
which the practice can be defended." " Excuse me, if I
seem to lecture you," he proceeds (I very readily do), '• but
this has been on my mind for some time, and I feel better
for the removal of the load." I apprehend he ought rather
to say, "Do not smile if I seem to lecture you," for he is
writing of a matter about which, as he practically admits,
he knows nothing ; whereas I have had occasion to study it
carefully. The argument by which thepractice is defended
is that these repeated letters always represent associated
things. Thus the mathematician calls the two ends of the
major axis of an ellipse A and a, or A and A' ; the two
ends of the minor axis B and b, or B and B' ; the two foci
S and S' (if he sometimes writes II for one focus it is
because, while S is the first letter for the sun, H is the first
letter of Helios, the Greek name for the sun). No mathe-
matician, I imagine, ever thinks of saying " capital H " and
" small /ij" at least I never trouble myself to make such
changes in reading any one else's mathematiail demonstra-
tions ; neither do I say " non-accented H " and " accented
11," but simply "H" and "H dash." However, if Mr.
Fraser's mind feels free of a load, what more can be
desired ?

" But now," continues Mr. Fraser, " I come to a matter
which has been on my mind for a very long time, in fact
ever since 1881." I promised to deal with the tides, and
Mr. Fraser " is sorry to tell " me " that after reading a part,"
and a part only, of what I say in Part IV. of " Old and New
Asti'onomy," he is "in as great a fog as ever." He " happens
to have invented the centrifugal theory for himself," and so
takes " a fatherly interest in it." Seven years ago he thought
himself the first inventor of it. And " I always thought it
an extraordinary coincidence," he proceeds, " that iu the
same number of Knowledge in which I expected some
notice of it to be taken, appeared a review of Professor

260

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

Newcomb'3 book in which the same theory appeared. I
seem to be wrong in more directions than one lately ; but if
those with knowledge" (with a small k) "do not distribute
it to tho-;e without, how can the circulation of Knowledge "
(with a very large K) '• be maintained 2 " (Very neat, Mr.
Fraser.)

The trouble is that both the fallacy and the correction
are so exceedingly old that readers of Knowledge might
justly complain if any considerable amount of space were
given to it. The oldest edition of Lord Grimthorpe's
'•Astronomy without Mathematics," which I possess, is the
fifth, dated 187-1, and in that work the fallacy is presented
and the proper correction pointed out. Doubtless in earlier
editions the same matter (in substance) will be found ; and
as the paradoxists are always with us, I doubt not the
matter will continue to bs dealt with in later editions, or, as
it were, indefinitely. Precisely the same fallacy is advanced
with regard to the sun by Mr. W. Mattieu Williams, old
Sol being pictured in " The Fuel of the Sun " as constantly
stirred up by centrifugal forces, which have no existence, and
in variations of such forces, which are purely mythical.
That book came out in 1869. Mr. Henry Perigal, however,
had been earlier yet caught by the mistake, in the moon's
case, as had Bentley more than a century ago, so that
Mr. Fraser in 1881 need only have been astonished at
Newcomb's making the mistake, for the same reason that
all mathematicians were astonished. (Professor Newcomb
long since recognised the mistake he had made and corrected
it like a man.)

* * *

I can only find space to state here that the earth's rota-
tion round her axis results in equal centrifugal tendency all
round, producing the earth's oblateness of figure, while her
monthly revolution around the common centre of gravity of
the earth and moon would by itself cause every particle of
the earth to traverse an orbit of exactly the same size.
(Combining with it the rotation, all whose ettects have been
accounted for, cannot atlect this.) The centrifug.al ten-
dencies resulting from the movement of the several particles
in these equal orbits are balanced by the moon's attraction,
with only such diflferences as the old statical explanation of
the tides indicates in the moon's .action on parts of tlie
earth at different distances from the moon. These diflerences
are small, and taking them into .account as balancing the
lunar attractions is merely repeating in a disguised form
the old-fashioned explanation, which is altogether correct so
far as it goes, and has never needed to be displaced, only
added to — precisely as an explanation of the reeling of a
top, which began by saying that the slanted top is solicited
by gravity to topple over, would not have to be displaced
(since so far it is right), but extended in such sort as to
explain why the top thus solicited by gravity does 7iot
fall over (while its rotation Lasts). The other idea of a
centrifugal force, as if the e.arth revolved round the centre
of gravity of earth and moon with the parts farthest from
that centre travelling round the wider paths, would cor-
respond to a st.ate of things in which tides thirty times
higher than the actiial tidal wave would sweep over all
terrestrial shores — precisely as the motion Mr. H. Perigal
imagined for the moon would have effects far beyond any
actually taking place, and as the kind of centrifug.al stirring
up imagined by Mr. "Williams would be many times more
than sufficient for the stoking work which Mr. Williams
wants it to do.

Nature's Hi/giene. By C. T. Kingzett, F.I.C., F.C.S.
Third Edition. (London: Eaillicre, Tindall, & Cox.
1888.) — Every one is now familiar with the type of adver-
tisement which begins, " At the time of the exile of the
Due de Choiseul on account of the notorious Madame du
Barry " ; or, " Among the many witty sayings of Sydney
Smith which have been recorded " ; on reading which to
learn what happened anent the mistress of Louis XV., or
what the famous Canon of St. Paul's really did say, we sud-
denly find that we have been entrapped into the perusal of
an invitation to rub our aching joints with St. Vitus's
Vinegar, or to scrub ourselves, our sons and daughters, our
menservants and maidservants, our cattle and the stranger
that is within our gates, with Appel's Sapolica, and so on.
Now Mr. Kingzett's book is modelled on this form of
advertisement, and it says but little for our critical acumen
that we had got something like half-w.ay through the
volume before making this discovery. We must do its
author the justice, however, of admitting that the interest
of his ostensible subject, and his manner of treating it,
irresistibly carried us into the middle of what we may call
the business part of his book before we detected this. In
short, he winds up a most interesting account of the nature
of malaria, of the germ and graft theories of disease, of the
treatment of sewage, and of the general sanitary conditions
indispensable to the preservation of health, with a puff pure
and simple of " Sanita*," a disinfectant of his own inven-
tion produced by the oxidisation of turpentine. His work
might be divided into two parts with advantage.

Nature's Fainj-Land. By H. W. S. Worsley-Benison,
F.L.S. (London : Elliot Stock. 1888.)— In a series of
picturesque essays, Mr. Benison leads us through woodlands,
over heaths, by hedge, copse, and stream, and takes us for a
ramble on the seashore. In the course of our wanderings
we are taught a good deal of botany, some physics (in the
shape of a description of the formation of rainand of the action
of waves), and have something of the manners and customs of
fishes and molluscs, spiders and flies, explained to us. This
pi'etty little book may well be put into the h.ands of young
people in whom it is desired to create or foster a taste for an
innocent and engrossing means of recreation. Some of Mr.
Benison's teleological I'emarks miglit perhaps be omitted
with advantage, as there is, to us, something ofTensive in the
assumption that finite man can penetrate the motives of the
Almighty.

Early Prose aiul Poetical Works of John Taylor, the
Water Poet. (London : Hamilton, Adams, & Co. 1888.)^
In the year 1580 there was born in the city of Gloucester,
of humble parentage, John Taylor, subsequently self- dubbed
" The King's Majesty's Water Poet," whose earlier works
have been collected by the anonymous editor of the volume
before us. Of limited education, he was apprenticed to a
Thames waterman. During a part of his life he served in
the navy, and he also seems to have held some sort of post
in the Tower of London, winding up his career as landlord
of the " Poet's Head "in Phoenix Alley, Long Acre. He
was essentially of .a nomadic temperament, having during
his career travelled from London to Edinburgh on foot, a
journey described in his " Penniless Pilgrim.age " in the
volume before us ; from London to Hamburg, of which we
have also his account here ; from London to Salisbury in a
wherry, whereof he tells here, too, under the title of "A
New Discovery by Sea," and so on. His " poetry " is of the
school of the poet Close, being but of a doggerel character.
It is largely interspersed with prose. He seems to have
been a comparatively illiterate man, with .strong though

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

261

uncultivated powers of observation, and possessed of a share
of coarse humour which was more appreciable in the
Jacobean age than it is in the Victorian one. As affording
a picture of life in Tudor and Stuart times this edition of
Taylor's works may be read both with advantage and profit.

Percy Bjsshi Shdliy : a Monograph. By H. S. Salt.
(London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co. 1888.) —
%lr. Salt has given us a really readable and agreeable, if
somewhat partisan, history of the remarkable poet and
original thinker who flashed like a meteor across the sky of
the early part of the present centuiy. He retells, always
in Shelley's interest, the story of his marriage with Harriet
"Westbrook, and of his subsequent connection with Mary
Godwin, carefully suppressing much that was wholly in-
defensible, and exaggerating everything for which any
excuse can be advanced. It is this too obtrusive advocac}-,
and the absence of anything approaching the judicial spirit,
that weakens the effect of so much that our author advances
in Shelley's defence ; while every now and then his blind
admiration of his idol's Socialistic opinions betrays him into
the expression of ignorant utterances concerning Ireland,
which will only excite derision in those personally familiar
with that unhappy country. The true history of Shelley
has yet to be written.

At Evening Time it Shall he LigJit. By Lewis Lacriston.
(London : The London Literary Society.) — In this wishy-
washy religious novelette Mr. Lauriston, like others of his
school, constructs his own giants with the express view to
their subsequent demolition. " The Hon. Edward Fanshawe,"
who is an agnostic of the most feeble type (and whose
obvious incapacity to give a reason of the hope that is in
him renders his opinions after his conversion as valueless as
those he professed before it), loses his wife, and subsequently
hLs son, while holding materialistic doctrines, and is plunged
into despair. "While in this state he wanders into a church
where a mission service is going on, and hears a man utter
a string of evangelical platitudes — and so on. Those who
care for " goody -goodiness " must consult the volume itself
to learn what happens to Mr. Fanshawe at the end of it.

The Life, Tinns, and Writings of Thoracis Cranmer, D.D.
By Chas. Hastings Collette. (London : Gsorge Eedway.
1887.) — Professing, and undoubtedly intending, to write in
a strictly impartial r.nd judicial spirit, Mr. Collette's
evangelical principles cause him to view the whole story of
the Reformation through coloured spectacles ; and to con-
vert him, posing as a judge, into a fervid and altogether
one-sided advocate. Nor does it make any difference in
the attitude h^ assumes that the evils of Popery are un-
happily but too undeniable, and that we have only to enter
any country whatever under priestly domination to find
sloth, filth, and degradation, physical and intellectual, ram-
pant. That Cranmer was a potent factor in the English
Reformation blinds our author to all his faults and short-
comings, and prompts him to invent a series of excuses for
various acts now become historical, which we venture to
think he would scarcely otherwise have aired to justlf)', and
which assuredly he would have reprobated in Gardiner or
Bonner. But, having said this, we would add that Mr.
Collette's work should be read by every one whose ideas of
Cranmer's life ai-e derived from such sources as Dr. Little-
dale's "Ritualistic Innovation," with its low and vulgar
scurrility and abuse. The reader approaching the subject
with no prepossession will study both, and strike a mean
between them. And the partisanship which detracts from
the weight of our author's estimate of Cranmer is perhaps
even more apparent in his defence of Henry VIII., whose
acts and motives are alike presented in a light which would
scarcely bear the ordeal of any searching historical criticism.

When, after much pestering, the old woman got her minister
to pray for rain, and a hailstorm came and cut up all her
cabba,'es, it is recorded that she exclaimed, " Ah I that's
just like Mr. Jones — he always overdoes everything I " May
we hint that, in this respect, Mr. Collette has been taking
an easy lesson from ft[r. Jones ?

Ballads of Books. Edited by Andrew Lang. (Long-
mans & Co.) — Whoever possesses Mr. Ireland's " Book-
Lover's Enchiridion," with its gems of thought on the
solace and companionship of books gathered from ancient
and modern writers, from Socrates to Louis Stevenson,
should not fail to put this delightful anthology of verse in
praise of books, from Catullus to Dobson, by its side. The
one volume Ls complementary to the other.

Our Sentimental Journey. By Joseph and Elizabeth
Robins Pennell. (Longmans & Co.) — As none of the
dead authors to whom Mr. Lang addressed his letters have
.shown signs of offence at the liberty thus tiken with them,
Mr. and 3Irs. Pennell have felt emboldened to dedicate this
book to the late Mr. Laurence Sterne, whose route by the
old post road from Calais to Lyons they followed, and whose
title to his volume of travel they have unblushingly appro-
priated. But they may rest assured that the Recording
Angel of whom that reverend sentimentalist and plagiarist
di.=coursed will drop his tear upon their peccadillo and blot
it out for ever. They have told the story of their journey
on a tandem tricycle in language which has an apposite old-
world flavour. "They deserve all the enjoyment which they
got out of the trip, for what with drenchings, head-winds,
damages to the m.achine, whose wheels, like those of
Pharaoh's chariots, " drave heavily," especially when the
top of the oil-can came off, so that " the can was in the oil
instead of the oil in the can," and other drawbacks, their
course did not run smooth. 1'he map of France is very droll,
and the sketches are admirable in their vividness and delicacy.

Vere Thornleigh's Inheritance, by A.M. Hopkinson ; The
Trance of Fitzerse, by Alfred Fitzerse ; They Ticain, by
Mary H. Pickersgill-Cunliffe. (London : The London
Liteitiry Society.) — In " Vere Thornleigh's Inheritance,"
Miss (or Mrs.) Hopkinson tells how a young woman of
gentle birth was brought up by an au-nt in an o]d manor
house (in reality her own, though she was ignorant of it) to
do farm-work, the said aunt and a woman-servant called
Hannah being its only other occupants. Not wholly satisfied
with her lot, and in utter ignorance of her parentage. Miss
Thornleigh wanders out to an unoccupied house belonging
to some people named Tresidder. To her there enter (as
the old stage directions have it) one young man, one ditto
woman, and one older woman, all singing parts from an
opera. These are the Tresidders, who have lost theii- way
to their own house. Vere directs them, and, catching up
their song, walks home only to find her aunt in a fit. The
old lady dies without revealing the secret of her niece's
origin. That niece is found the next morning by a barrister
friend of the Tresidders absorbed in grief, and Tresidder
pere volunteering his aid, discovers a pocket-book in a chest
in the cellar, containing the name Le Mesurier, which he
promptly secretes. Then Miss Thornleigh goes to live with
the 'Tresidders. How the secret of her parentage is sub-
sequently discovered, and her aunt's irrational behaviour
more or less satisfactorily explained ; how she meets her
mother, and how happily the story all ends, the reader must
go to the book itself to ascertain. He will find it superior
to the run of ordinary novels, and decidedly more interest-
ing than our jyrecis of its improbable opening incidents
would induce him to anticipate.

" The Trance of Fitzerse " has fairly puzzled us, as, after
the most attentive and deliberate perus;il of it, we wholly

262

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

fail to discover wtiat its author is driving at. If the part
relating to the Stuart period in Pinnook's " Goldsmith's
History of England," an essay by Dr. Littledale, any of
the productions of Messrs. Blavatzky, Olcott, Sinnett it
Co., Limited, an odd number of "Li^ht," and a chapter
from Carpenter's " Mental Physiology," were passed tlirough
a sausage-machine, " The Trance of Fitzerse " might well
emerge as the result of the combination. Whether the
author of this curious hash intends it as a psychological
study, and as a more or less accurate narration of a peculiar
form" of mental alienation, or whether he has been addling
hi-nself with the drivelling nonsense of " Spiritualism," and
really believes that the incongruous and inconsequent series
of oacurrenc3S of which he tells might have happened, we
cannot divine. Of plot — in any legitimate sense of that word —
there is none. A Fitzerse, whose father loses his life in the
cause of that perjured and worthless ruler, Charles I., studies
medicine at Padua, performs experiments in transfusion,
and makes a bosom-friend of a certain Sal Tara Lai, study-
ing under the pseudonym of Saltario, and who subsequently
appears in London as Dr. Salter at the time of the Plague.
This e.xtremely uncanny person was — or is — a Yogi, or
Mahatma (" for which," to pai-aphrase the immortal Cap'en
Cuttle, " overhaul your Blavatzky, and wlien found make a
note of "), and he bottles up, so to speak, all Fitzerse's vi tality,
and throws him into a trance in the seventeenth century
from which he does not rouse until near the end of the
nineteenth, only to tind himself occupying the place of one
of his own lineal descendants. It is not surprising to learn
tiiat he is sent to a private asylum as the result of an
endeavour to impress the truthfulness of the narrative we
have sketched on his friends. We must say, though, that
they carried their incredulity very far on the occasion when
the author, wholly ignorant of, and without the slightest
ear for, music, extemporaneously performed a brilliant
capriccio on the violin which he must have learned in Italy
abaut 1658 or so. The bjok, as we have previously .said,
has no plot. A variety of characters appear and disappear,
having no connection with the story, and in nowise helping
it. Our pervading impression after its perusal is that its
author has made notes of various incidents that their
archwological correctness may give an air of vraisemblance
to his tale, and has emptied them bodily into his pages, with
a fine disregard for congruity. As a novel the book is
worthless ; but it will somehow repay reading for all that.

Of " They Tw.ain " we may say, as the schoolboy did of
the milk-and-water, " This is indeed weakness ! " A young
woman of the middle class, who has been brought up amid
such refinement as is involved in five o'clock tea and dinner
at night, marries a farmer, and has her feelings hurt and her
aOfections estranged by his plebeian habit of taking his prin-
cipal mi3al at midday, and so on. ]!y-and-by her child dies,
she becomes reconciled to the manners and customs of the
agricultui-al classes, and they live happily ever afterwards.
Voild, tout !

Of works of a more miscellaneous character we have
already the second edition of Mr. S. Pi. P.otton'e's capital
Electrical Instrument-making for Amateurs, the first of
which we noticed on page 212. — Mining and Quarry-
ing. By J. H. CoLLixs, F.G.S. 2nd Edition. (London :
Crosby Lockwood i Co. 1888.) — A first-rate little manual
for the beginner. — The Medico- Legal Journal. (New York :
March 1888.)— A serial of considerable intere.st to all who
.study medical j\irisprudence ; containing, inter alia, a some-
what maudlin article by Dr. Bleyer on " The Best Methods
of Capital Punishment," with a report to match from a com-
mittee.— Ilylo- Idealism or Auto-Centricism. By (H. L. C).
(London : Watts & Co.) — " Crambe repetita " of Dr. Lewins's
craze. — A Special Constable's Story and other Tales. B'^

Henry Charles Moore. (London : Wyman & Sons.
1888.) Sketches-by-Bozand-water. — Annual Reports of
the Aeronautical Society of Great Britain for 1885-86.
(London : Hamilton & Co.) — Containing much that is
visionary. — Electricity v. Gas. By Johx Stent. (London:
Swan Sonnenschein & Co.) — An enthusiastic prediction
that coal gas and mineral oil as sources of light will dis-
appear before electricity. Page 56 is nonsense pure and
simple. — The Theory of the Tides. By James Nolan,
F.G.S.A. (London: Duku et Co.) — Worth reading. —
Internationales Archiv fiir Elhnographie. Edited by
J. D. E. ScHMELTZ. Band I. Heft III. (London :
Triibner & Co.) — Fully sustains its interest. The illustra-
tions .are as beautiful as ever.

We have also on our table the two concluding volumes
of Miss Ajiy Baker's First History of the English People
(London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co. 1888),
biinging the narrative down to Queen Victoria's Jubilee;
two or three tracts liy Mr. Laurence Hargr.ave devoted to
flying machines ; their very full and complete Catalogue of
Photographic Apparatus fixsm Messrs. J. Lancaster & Son,
Birmingham ; divers tracts from the National Association
for the Promotion of Technical Education ; The Peport of
the Supirintendent of the American Xautical Almanac for
the year ending June 30, 1887, a record of a mass of valu-
able work; Physical and Industrial Traiyiing of Criminals.
By Hamilton D. Wey, M.D. Records of an attempt to
place the confirmed scoundrel in a position of very great
advantage over the merely honest hard-working man ;
"Atr/Seo-ros. By EoBT. H. Jones. (London : Crosby Lock-
wood & Co.) A description of the localities where .asbestos
is found, the method of obtaining it, and the uses to which
it is put; Cassell's Technical Educator {hondon: Cassell it
Co ) ; also among various educational works. Competitive
Examination Papers in Pure Mathematics (Stages I. -III.);
Letter.", Themes, and Essays for Composition, and Short
Stories, selected by J. M. Laine, M.A. (.all from Moffatt it
Paige); Hints to Calculators and Sensational Arithmetic.
By H. BfLL. (London : Hamilton, Adams, A Co.) Devices
for making ever}- man his own Bidder or Zerah Colburn ;
and The Elements of Logarithms. By W. Gallatly, M.A.
(London: Francis Hodg.son.) An excellent, thoroughly
plain and practical little manual.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR SEPTEMBER.

By F.R.A.S.

HE spotless sun is whoHy void of interest as an
object in the telescope. Towards the end of the
month the zodiacal light m.ay be seen in the east
botore sunrise. September 22 is the theoretical
date of the equinox ; but equality of day and
night in London will not occur until the 24th.
Map ix. of " The Stars in their Seasons '' exhibits
the aspect of the night sky. Minima of the
v.ariable star Algol (" The Stars in their Seasons,"
map sii.) will occur at llh. 2(;ni. p.m. on the 14th, and at
Sh. 15m. P.M. on the 17th, as well as on other occasions more in-
convenient for the ordinary observer. Mercury is an evening star,
but is poorly placed in Leo and Virgo for observation. Venus,
in Virgo, is, "of course, an evening star, too, but is just as badly
placed as Mercury. Mars and Jupiter are close to the western
horizon at dusk, while Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune are quite
invisible. Hence, as far as the planets are concerned, the night sky
is a blank. The moon is new at 4h. 56.1m. A.M. on the 6th, entei-s
her first quarter at 9h. 59.9 P.M. on the 12th, is full .at oh. 24.3m. A.M.
on the 20th, and enters her last quarter at 8h. 30.2m. A.M. on the
28th. Four occultations of fixed stars by the moon will happen at
convenient hours for the amateur observer during September. The
first occurs on September 1, when the 6th mJignitude star 61 Gemi-
norum will dis.appear at the moon's bright limb 4m. after
midnight at an angle of 84° from her vertex. It will reappear

September 1, 1888.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

263

at her dark limb at 12h. oOtu. at an angle from her vertex
of 216°. The second is on September 14, on the night of which
at lOh. 58m., 50 Sagittarii, of the 6th magnitude, will disappear at
the dark limb of the moon at an angle from her vertex of 13i° ; she
will tliough have sot prior to its reappearance. Thirdly, on the
16th, .SO Capricorni will disappear at her dark limb at yh. 47m. P.M.,
at an angle of 12S° from the vertex of the moon, and will reappear
at her bright limb at Uh. Im. P.M. at a vertical angle of 28°.
Finally, on the 28th. before the moon rises, she will have occulted
f- Geminorum of the 4th magnitude. Its reappearance may be
observed later on at llh. 11m. P.M. at her dark limb, at an angle of
245° from her vertex. When our notes begin the moon is in
Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured," plate sxiv.), througa which she is
travelling until 2h. 30m. P.M. on tlie 2nd, at which hour she enters
Cancer. She remains in Cancer until 4h. A.M. on the 4th, and then
passes into Leo. Her journey through IjCo occupies her until
6h. P.M. on the 6th, when she crosses into Virgo (" The Seasons
I'ictured," plate sxv.). It is not un'il 7h. P.M. on the 0th that her
passage through this great constellation is completed, and she has
entered Libra (" The Seasons I'ictuied," plate xjvi.). Travelling
over Libra she arrives at llh. 30m. A.M. on the 11th on the
western edge of the narrow northern spike of Scorpio, which she
has crossed by Sh. 30m. the same evening and emerged in Ophiuchus.
She leaves Ophiuchus at 9h. A.M. on the 13th, and enters Sagittarius.
There .she remains until 5 P.M. on the 15th, when she leaves it in
turn for Capricornus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.). At
3h. 30m. P.M. on the 17th she quits Capricornus for Aquarius. Her
passage over Aquarius terminates at 4h. 30m. P.M. on the 19th, when
she enters Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xsii.). In
tlie course of her journey across Pisces she passes in'o a part of
Cetus at noon on the 20th, in which constellation she continues
until 7 P.M. on the 21st, re-emerging in Pisces at the hour last
named. It is only, however, to plunge into another outlier of Cetus
twenty-four hours later (i.e., at 7h. P.M. on the 22nd), and, when
she finally quits this at 8 A.M. on the 23rd, it is to come out in
Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). By 2h. P.M. on the
24th she has traversed Aries, and quitted it for Taurus. In the
course of her journey through Taurus she arrives at 6h. 30m. P.M.
nn the 27th on the boundary of the most northerly poriion of Orion.
It takes her until 2h. 30m. A.M. on the 2Sth to cross this, and when
she has done so she comes out in Gemini (-'The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiv.). She passes out of Gemini into Cancer at llh. 30m.
p.ir. on the 29th. There we leave her at midnight on the 30th.

A Rbmaukable Ride.— Mr. Chas. Hill, of the Fincbley Harriers,
on August 10, accomplished a remarkable ride on a " Geared
Facile " bicycle, having ridden no less than 293 miles in the
24 hours, only 2 miles less than the record standing to the credit
of Mr. G. P. Mills, and 21 miles more than all other previous per-
formances. This splendid ride, on tlie hottest day we have had this
year, is a great performance for both man and machine, more
especially in view of the fact that Jlr. Hill had only ridden a
" Facile " for a month previously to the start. He rode the same
machine throughout — a 46-inch, geared to 69 inches, weighing
about 36 lbs., and is quite confident that with all circumstances
favourable he can cover over 300 miles in 24 hours on a " Geared
Facile," of which he speaks in the highest terms.

(Bm WLWt Column.

By "Five of Clubs."

THE solution of Mr. Lewis's double dummy problem (see January
Number of Knowledge) is as follows. We repeat the problem
for the reader's convenience : —

£

/H. (,tTiim
ls.-2

■'/>»)■■

THE HANDS.
A, Kn,8, 6, 5.

C— A,K, Kn,4,
D.— A. 6, 4.

}

f H. it/,s.).-Q, 10, 4.
y\ S.-Q.
-" ) C— Q, 10, 6, 5.

Ld.— Q, 0, 8,7,5.

B

Y

Z

Tr. neart.s

A le.ads.

H. (^t/is.y—K, 7, 2. ■!
S.— K, 10, 9, 8, 7. I
C— 9, S, 7, 2. I

D.— Kn. J

, /H. (frumps).—'.), 3.
IS.— A, Kn, 6, .5, 4, 3.

C— 3. \

D.— K,10,3,2./

Hearts are trumps. A leads,
against the best defence 1

How many tricks can A-B make

10

A T

* 4-

O
O

4..*

<9

L_<;?_J

* ♦

0 0

<y <^

♦ ♦

<? <?

♦ «

0 0

1? <?

0%

o o * ♦
*

0 0 ♦ ♦

O 0

0^0
0 0

O 0
0 0
0 0

NOTES.

It will be seen on a careful
study of the irosition that for
full success A and B must make
one trick by ruffing Clubs, while
Y and Z must be prevented
from making Trumps by ruffing.
Further, either Z must be com-
pelled to lead Spades after the
Ace is out, or Y to lead a Diamond
after Ace is out and Trumps are
exhausted. Everything then de-
pends on rightly placing the
lead when Y's and Z's trumps
are out. By the line of play
indicated above A and 1! clear
out the Clubs from Y-Z's hands,
so that every lead must now
necessarily be from Diamonds or
Spades when Trumps are out.
Jloreover, by leading the Spade
Ace at trick 5, A clears Y of
,11 Spades also. Note the effect of
"■ omitting this lead. Y covering
the Heart Nine will lead a small
Diamond, which either A or B
must win. If A wins, he has no
better course than to lead Spade
Ace, following with a small one,
which Y will trump with the
(Jueen, after which, no matter
how B may play, Y-Z must make
two more tricks in trumps.
(The fame result must follow
if B wins the first round of
Trumps as actually played above )
If B, on the contrary, wins, he
must then take out two rounds
of Trumps as his best chance;
and Y-Z will be able to get rid
of the load by leading a Spade,
and thus make a Spade or a
Diamond, besides two Trump
tricks.

In fact, A has to lead out the
Spade Ace to prevent the lead
being forced into his hand ; and
B must, in like manner, lead
out, or get out (according to
Ills position) the Diamond Ace
before drawing the second round
of Trumps. Thus, if Y leads a
Trump at trick 7, B wins with
the Ace, leads Diamond Ace,
and then goes on as above with
Heart Knave.

A and B make five by tricks.

*
6.

A
— H 9

r

H 4

B

H 5

H K

7.

— S4

11 10

11 Kn

S 7

8.

— D 3

D 5

n A

D Kn

0.

-D 10

IIQ

HA

— R—

H 7

n2

10.

-S5

D 7

11 s

11.

-SO

D 8

H G

S K

12.
13.

-DK

—10—

-S Kn

—11-

D 9
DQ

D 4
D6

S 9
S 10

If, in tins variation, Y dis-
cards a Diamond at trick 7, B
wins the trick with Heart C,
tlien leads out in succession
Diamond Ace, Heart Ace, and
Heart Knave. On this, if Z at
trick 9 should throw Heart King
to the Ace, to allow Y to win
trick 10, then A must discard a
Spade instead of a Diamond at
trick 9. Otherwise the game
will run as before.

264

♦ KNOAVLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1888.

•so'

a^uv C&estiS Column*

By " Mephisto."

GAMES PLAYED IN

White.
Mr. Elackburne.

1. P to K4

2. P to Q4

3. Kt to QB.S

4. P to K.J (a)

5. P to KB4
G. PxP(i)

7. Q to Kt4 (c)
S. Kt to KBH
0. B to Q3(p)
30. B toQ2

11. P to R3

12. PxKt

13. E to QBsq

14. Q to R3
lo. Kt X Kt
16. P toQ4

Castles
B to r.3

THE TOURNAMENT
AT BRADFORD.

"SVniTK.
Mr. Bliickburue.
28. Q to Qsq

30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
3T.

OF THE B.C.A.

17.
18.

Black.
Mr. Lee.
P to K3
PtoQ4
Kt to KB3
KKt to Q2
P to QB4
BxP

P to KKt3 (rf)
Kt to QB3
Kt to Kto
Kt to Kt3
Kt X B (oh)
B to Q2
R to QBsq
Kt to R5 (/)
BxKt
B to K2
B to B7 (g)
B to KB4

Q to Q2
Kto B2
KR > B
RxR
QxR

Q X Q (.?)

K to K3
Kto K4
PtoQ.5(ch)(/0

38. K to Q4

19. P to KKt4 (A) B to Q6

20. KR to Ksq

21. Kt to Q2

22. R to K3

23. Kt to Bsq

24. P to Kt5

25. QxB

26. Q to Qsq

27. Q lo R4

E to B3
B to B5
P to KRi
K toQ2(i)
BxKt
Q to Kt3
KR to QBsq
Q to R3

39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.

49.
50.
51.
52.
53.

P to KR3
P to B5
P to K6
P ■ P
P to Kt6
K to B3

45. P X P

46. K to Q4

47. K to K5

48. KxBP

PxP

K to Kt5

K to R6

K to Kt7

K to R7

Resigns.

Black.
Mr. Lee.
B to Qsq
B to Rl
BxB
ExR
RxR
Q to Bo
PxQ
K to B3
P to Kt4
PxP (ch)
P to KR5
Pto R4
PxP
Kto Q3
K to K2
P to B5
PtoKt5(ch)
PxP (ch)
K to Bsq
Kto K2
P to B6
P to Kt6
P to Kt7
P Queens
Q to Ktsq
K to B3

Notes.

(a) Some players prefer this continuation to 4. B to KKto, the
German masters (recently) in particular.

(i) This was played by Steinitz ;-. Golmayo, at Havanna.

(c) As played by the late Dr. Zukertort against Gunsberg, in this
year's Handicap of the British Chess Club.

(</) Pollock considers that Black can risk Castling at this juncture,
P to KB4 being an important feature in the defence.
I -s; («) The QB ought to be played first, as the placing of the other

B on Q3, where it can be at once attacked by the Knight, is not
advantageous for White.

(/) This move simplifies the game in Black's favour.

(/?) Bringing his Bishop into a better position presently.

(/() It is always hazardou<« to expose the King in this way as long
as the opponent has two Bishops ou the board.

(0 Threatening, with good judgment, to open the Rook's file.

(,/■) After all these exchanges White is found to have suffered in
position, solely due to the fact that he attempted to avoid the
drawing line of play, which his adversary seemed bent to force
upon him.

(k) Black has the opposition, and would soon be able to gain the
Queen's Pawn, having various moves at his disposal, in order to gain
time, and thus compel the White King to abandon the defence of
that Pawn. Seeing this, White adopts the masterly but desperate
course of sacrificing that Pawn at once, atd others subsequently,
the ingenious combination, however, being frustrated by Black's
accurate play-.

EvAss's Gambit Refused.

Pollock.

MASoy.

1. PtoK4

PtoK4

2. KKt to B3

QKt to B3

3. B to B4

B to B4

4. P to QKt4

B to Kt3

5. P to B3

Kt to B3

6. P to Q3

PtoQ3

7. B to KKt5

P to KR3

8. B to R4

P to KKt4

y. B to KKt3

Up to the present the game

calls

for

no comment.

In similar

positions the Knight can sometimes be sacrificed, but it will not do
here, supposing 9. Kt x P, P x Kt ; 10. B x P, B x P (ch) ! ; 11. K x B
(if K to Bsq, B to R5), Kt x P (ch), with the better game.

Kt to K2

10. Q to Kt3

In order to induce Black to Castle,

Castles

11. QKt toQ2 Kt toKt3

12. P to KR4

13. Pto Ro

14. BxKt

15. Kt to R4

P to Kt5
Kt to B5
PxB
P to B3

To guard against the loss of the exchange. For if White (after
P to B3) should play Kt to KtO, Black would reply with P to Q4,
gaining two pieces for his Rook.

16. Q to B2 P to Q4

17. B to Kt3 ' PtoRi

18. PxRP BxP

19. Cas. to QR B to K3

20. P to Q4 R to Bsq

21. PtoK5 KttoE2

IE Black plays Kt x P, White might revive his attack against the
King's side. The White Rook's Pawn is more of a protection to
Black ; moreover, it is bound to fall in the end game.

22. Kt to B5

Kt to Kt6 is a much superior move, viz., 22. Kt to Kt6, PxKt;
23. Q X P(ch.), K to Rsq ; 24. Q x B, B x P ; 25. Kt to Kt sq ; with
better attacking chances than occurred in the actual game. Of
course, if Black refuse to take the Kt on the 22nd move, but plays
R to Ksq instead. White simply replies 23. Kt ■■; BP.

Q to Kt 4

23. Kt to Q6 P to QB4
A very fine and undoubtedly preconceived operation.

24. Ktx R Rx Kt

25. P to QB4 ? BP X P

26. B to R4 B X Kt(ch.)

27. KxB ExP

28. Resigns *

WlIIT.7.

A. Bum.

1. P to K4

2. Kt to KB3

3. Kt to QB3

4. B to Kt5

5. Castles.

6. P to Q3

7. B X Kt

8. Kt to K2

FOUK KNIGHT.S
Black.
J. Mortimer.
P to K4
Kt to KB3
Kt to QB3
B to Kto
Castles.
P to Q3
PxB
B to QR4

Defence.

White.

A Burn.
Kt to Ki3
Pto KR3
B to Kt5
B toR4
KtxP
BxP
BxKt

16. Q to KR5

Br.ACK.
.T. Mortimer.
B to KKto
B to K3
P to KR3
P to KKt4
PxKt
QtoQ2
BxRP
Resigns

* If 28. Q to Kt3, P to B6(ch.) ; 29. K to Ksq, PxP; 30. KR to
Kt sq, Q X P(ch.) ; 31. K to Q2, Kt to Kt4 ! and wins.

The Loisette Syi5TEM. — Mr. G. S. Fellows, M.A., published in
New York a pamphlet claiming to contain " Loisette's Complete System
of Memory," and proves (as an excuse for printing) that Professor
Loisette's System was not original. The question was tried in the
Supreme Court of New York, before Chief Justice Vambrunt, on
July 26, 1888. Dr. William A. Hammond, author of several works
on the mind and the nerves ; Daniel Greenleaf Thompson, author of
" A System of Psychology " (Longmans, 1S84), and others, testified
that the Loisettian System is original, being a new departure in the
education of the Memory, and is of great value. The Supreme
Court made perpetual an injunction restraining Mr. Fellows from
publishing his pamphlet, and ordered him to deliver to Professor
Loisette the stereotype plates and books. The pamphlets delivered
up numbered over 9,000.

Contents

PAGE

The ScieDtiSo Origin of Religious

D~ctrines 217

English Proruncidtion 219

Co'ouis of Animals anl Howers ..221

Amf ric.inisms 223

The Donnelly Cipher Deciphered . . 223
Spectral Manifestitions. ByChailes

B. Cowan 226

An Inte'liger.t C.lt 228

Life in Other Worlds 230

The Mordey Alternator 232

OF No. 34.

I PAOB

Mr. Lockyer on the Earth's Mo7&-

ments 2H

' Gossip. By Kiohard A. Proctor 235

Reviews 236

The Face of the Sky for August.
By F.R.A.S 238

Our Whist Column. By "Five of
Clubs" 239

Oar Chess Column. By " Me-
phisto" 240

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