THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE
POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY

EDITED BY

J. MCKEEN CATTELL

VOLUME LXXIII

JULY TO DECEMBER, I908

NEW YORK

THE SCIENCE PRESS

1908

Copyright, 1908
The Science Tkess

Press of

The New Era Printing Company

Lancaster, Pa.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

JULY, 1908

SOIL WASTAGE

By Peofessor THOMAS CHROWDER CHAMBERLIN, Ph.D., LL.D., Sc.D.

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

THE invitation to give thought to the conservation of resources
that affect our future, appeals to me with almost personal force,
for my studies of the past decade have led to the belief that the era
of the earth's future habitability is vastly greater than we have been
wont to think. We have grown up in the belief that the earth sprang
from chaos at the opening of our era and is plunging on to catastrophe
or to a final winter in the near future. Quite at variance with this,
I have come to believe that the earth arose from a regenerative process
and that it offers a fair prospect of fitness for habitation for tens of
millions of years to come. If this be true, it is eminently fit that our
race should give a due measure of thought to the ulterior effects of its
actions.

It is one of the latest conceptions of geology that climatic condi-
tions have been of the same order as at present from early eras, in
the large view, in spite of some notable variations, and that this uni-
formity is the result of a profound regulative system which has sufficed
to keep the temperatures of the earth's surface and the constitution of
the earth's atmosphere within the narrow range congenial to life for
many millions of years. As a result there has been no break in the
continuity of land life since it came into being eras ago. It appears,
further, that the sources of supply of the vital elements are still ade-
quate, and are likely to be so for long ages, that the regulative system
is still in effective control, and that a vast future of habitability may
fairly be predicted, subject only to some contingencies of collision or
disturbing approach of celestial bodies. Whether you are prepared to
accept so large a view of the habitable future or not, I trust you will

6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

strike hands with me in the conviction that the probabilities of the
future are at least so great as to render imperative the serious con-
sideration of our obligations toward it.

It is a familiar geologic deduction that for long eras rains have
fallen on the lands and soils have grown in depth, while the surface
has been washed away. Soil-production and soil-removal have run
hand in hand, and yet they have been so controlled by the adjustments
of nature that no large part of the surface has been swept bare enough
to altogether exclude vegetation. More than this, it appears that the
usual adjustments of nature make rather for increasing fertility of soil
than depletion. It is true that at intervals deformations of the earth
have intervened giving mountainous heights and precipitous surfaces
from which the soil-product has been washed faster than it could be
produced; and desert conditions have also intervened locally; but these
diastrophic effects are perhaps rather rejuvenations necessary to the
preservation of the continents than destructive episodes. Whenever
such heights and slopes have been raised, the atmosphere and its waters
have at once begun to grade them down, to cover them with soil, and
to give to them a renewed habitability. So, in these and other ways,
the gifts of the great past now present themselves to us as the product
of a marvelous system of control which has checked excesses and
forced movement toward the golden means in which have lain pro-
ductivity and congeniality to life. Thus has come our inheritance of
a land suitable for habitation, of a soil-mantle of great fertility, of a
precipitation conducive to productiveness, and of a system of streams
endowed with great possibilities of water-foods, of power and of
navigation.

We do not hesitate to enter into the inheritance, but what part
shall we take in the regulative system that produced and maintains it?
How shall we cooperate with nature in rendering conditions still more
serviceable to ourselves, and in transmitting a still greater inheritance
for our successors? Clearly we may use the proper revenues of our
inheritance, but surely we should not rob our successors of their share
in it.

Let us turn at once to the basal factors in the problem, the rain-
fall, the soil-formation and soil-wastage, the special theme of this hour.
The rainfall may be regarded as an inherited asset, the soil is clearly
an inherited asset, even a little soil-removal is an advantage, but reck-
less soil-wastage is a serious error. Soils are the product of the
atmosphere and its waters modifying the rock surface. When they
have aided the air in producing soil by rock decay, the atmospheric
waters may pass either into plants or back to the surface through the
soil and out by evaporation, or they may pass on down to the ground-
waters and thence into the streams, furnishing there the basis for

SOIL WASTAGE 7

water-foods, for power and for navigation. Here is a good work —
soil-production — followed by advantageous courses of the water both
up and down. On the other hand, the rainfall may rush away on the
surface as a foul erosive flood, wasting soil and plant-food, gullying
the surface, flooding the valleys, filling the reservoirs, sweeping out
the dams, barring the streams and clogging the deltas. If it shall
be found that nearly all the rainfall should go into the soil and thence
into the under-drainage, coming out slowly and steadily by seepage
and by springs into the streams, clear and pure, these streams should
present nearly ideal conditions for water-food, for water-power and
for stream-navigation. An ideal solution of the soil problem may
therefore solve the greater part of the whole complex of problems of
which navigation is the last term. It may thus prove to be the key
problem. It is clearly the initial problem, for it attacks the rainfall
when it first touches the earth.

To see more definitely if it be the key problem, we must turn to
details, and yet, with the brevity that is imperative, we may only look
at major details, passing by a multitude of special cases, some of
which are even exceptions.

While soils are formed by the atmosphere and its waters acting
upon rock (aided by plants and animals), soil surfaces are carried away
by wind and wash. At any instant, then, the depth of the soil meas-
ures the lag of removal behind production. We hasten to note that
the addition of new soil below and the loss of exhausted soil above are
alike tributary to permanent fertility, and clearly the best results
spring from the proper ratio of addition at the bottom, to wastage at
the surface.

We have as yet no accurate measure of the rate of soil production.
We merely know that it is very slovj. It varies obviously with the
kind of rock. Some of our soils are derived from material already
reduced to a finely pulverized condition. Such are the lowland accumu-
lations from highland wash. Such also is the glacial drift, rock-
flour rasped from the face of the rock by the glacial file and ground
up with old soils. Soils may be developed from such half-prepared
material with relative rapidity, but observation shows that even in
these cases, when the slope is considerable, wind, wash and cropping
remove the surface much too fast for stable fertility. For average rock,
under the usual conditions of our climate, the common estimate of
natural loss and gain has been a foot in 4,000 to 6,000 years, which
includes channel-cutting and bank-undermining. This seems to me
too rapid a rate for ordinary soil production under normal conditions.
Without any pretensions to a close estimate, I should be unwilling to
name a mean rate of soil-formation greater than one foot in 10,000
years, on the basis of observation. If we allow 40,000 years for the

8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

formation of the four feet of soil next to the rock over our average
domain, where such depth obtains, it will probably be none too con-
servative. To preserve a good working soil-depth, with such an esti-
mate, surface wastage should not exceed some such rate as one inch in
a thousand years. If one chooses to indulge in a more liberal estimate
of the soil-forming rate, it will still appear, under any intelligent
estimate, that surface wastage is a serious menace to the retention of
our soils under present modes of management. Historical evidence
enforces this danger. In the Orient there are large tracts almost
absolutely bare of soil now, which formerly bore flourishing popula-
tions. Long-tilled lands generally bear testimony of like import.
Much more than mere loss of fertility is here menaced; it is the loss
oft the soil-body itself, a loss almost beyond repair. When our soils
are gone, we too must go, unless we shall find some way to feed on
raw rock or its equivalent. The immense tonnage of soil-material
carried out to sea annually by our rivers, even when allowance is made
for laudable wash, and for material derived from the river channels,
is an impressive warning of the danger of excessive soil-waste. Nor
is this all; the wash from one acre often buries the fertile portion of
another acre, or of several. Sometimes one's loss is another's gain,
but all too frequently one's loss is another's disaster.

If the atmospheric waters may not run off the surface freely without
serious menace, where may they go and what may they do consistent
with our welfare? The answer lies in a return to the study of the
origin and internal work of soils. For necessary brevity, let us neglect
all secondary soils, or overplacements, and consider simply the origin
and activities of primary soils derived from primary rocks. The
action of air and water in producing soil from such rock is partly
chemical and partly physical. Certain rock substances are made
soluble and become plant food or plant poisons, while others remain
relatively insoluble, but are reduced to a finely divided state and form
the earthy element of the soil.

Some of the soluble substances thus formed at the base of soils are
necessary plant food, while some are harmful; but what is more to
the point, all are harmful if too concentrated. There is need, there-
fore, that enough water pass through the forming soil, and on down
to the ground-water and out through the under-drainage, to carry away
the excess of these products. An essential part of the best adjustment
is thus seen to lie in a proper apportionment of the amount of water
which goes through the soils. If this be not enough, the plants will
suffer from saline excess ; if it be too much, the plants may suffer from
saline deficiency.

When evaporation from the surface is active and prolonged, waters
which had previously gone down to the zone of soil-formation and

SOIL WASTAGE 9

taken up soluble matter, may rise again to the surface bringing the
soluble matter up and leaving it at the surface on evaporation. Up
to a certain point this is favorable to the plant; beyond the critical
point, it begins to be harmful, as abundantly shown in the " alkaline "
efflorescences of arid regions.

Besides the water that goes through the soil into the subdrainage,
and that which runs off on the surface, enough must be held at all
times in the soil during the growing season to supply the plants, and
yet not enough to water-log the soil.

Here, then, are a series of possible excesses and deficiencies, between
which lie the golden means which give best results. The problem of
soil-management thus appears to be a problem of proper balancings
and adjustments.

The key to the problem lies in due control of the water which falls
on each acre. This water is an asset of great possible value. It
should be the habit of every acre-owner to compute it as a possible
value, saved if turned where it will do good, lost if permitted to run
away, doubly lost if it carries also soil values and does destructive work
below. Let us repeat the story of its productive paths. A due por-
tion of the rainfall should go through the soil to its bottom to promote
soil-formation there; a due portion of this should go on into the under-
drainage, carrying away harmful matter; a due portion should go again
up to the surface carrying solutions needed by the plants; a due por-
tion should obviously go into the plants to nourish them; while still
another portion should run off the surface, carrying away a little of
the leached soil matter. There are a multitude of important details
in this complex of actions, but they must be passed by ; the great fea-
tures are clear and imperative.

Experimental studies have shown that, on the average within our
domain, crops can use to profit all the rainfall during the growing
season, and much or all of that which can be carried over from the non-
growing seasons. This greatly simplifies the complex problem, for
the highest crop-values will usually be secured when the soil is made
to absorb as much of the rainfall and snowfall as practicable. There
are, of course, many local exceptions. In securing this maximum
absorption and internal soil-work, the run-off, and hence the surface
wash, will be reduced to a minimum. It has already been seen that
the wash of even this inevitable minimum is likely to be still too great
to keep the proper slow pace with soil-generation, when the surface has
much slope. Except on very level ground and on lodgment surfaces,
there need be no solicitude about a sufficient removal of the soil surface.
The practical problem then lies almost wholly in retaining and passing
into the soil the maximum of the precipitation. Obviously this gives
the minimum of wash to foul the streams, to spread over the bottom

io POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

lands, to choke the reservoirs, to waste the water-power, and to bar up
the navigable rivers. The highest solution of the problem for the
tiller of the soil essentially solves the whole train of problems.

How is this control to be effected? All the known and tried
methods of preventing wash and turning the rainfall into the soil
should be duly employed. It is obvious that all methods of culture
and all crops that increase the granularity and porosity of the soil con-
tribute to the end sought. Deep tilth to promote soil granulation and
deep-rooting plants to form root-tubes are specific modes of great
value. Artificial underdrainage by preventing water-logging and pro-
moting granulation aids the end sought. Contour cultivation by
arresting and distributing the surface wash may also assist. Alternate
strips of protected and cultivated land, reservoirs for catching and
distributing concentrated rainfall, and other devices, serve to limit the
wash of the slopes and give the surface waters the right direction.

It is possible that some of the more radical and permanent remedies
will be found by a closer study of nature's methods. Nature has been
working at this complex problem of balance between soil formation,
soil waste, surface slope, plant growth and stream development, for
millions of years. Looking closely at her methods, we note that she
uses a much larger variety of plants to cover and protect the soil than
we do, and that these plants have a wider range of adaptation to the
special situations where protection is needed. We may, therefore, in-
quire whether we should not follow this precedent farther by develop-
ing more kinds of profitable plants and by using the protective varieties
more freely on slopes especially subject to wash. Forest trees are a
resource of this kind and should be employed as fully as practicable,
as will, no doubt, be urged with great cogency by those who discuss
the problem of forestry. We also have many shrubs, vines and fruit
trees, whose employment to the maximum in covering areas subject to
wash is likewise urged, either alone or in conjunction with trees. We
are forced to recognize, however, that for the greater part the berries
and fruits which render these profitable are perishable and have limita-
tions of preservation, transportation, market, etc. But if shrubs and
vines could be evolved by modern selective methods, whose nut-meats or
dry seeds should be available for food in place of the watery pulp, and
which could be treated much as cereals are, and have similar wide
year-round markets, there would be a larger choice of crops to grow
in soils subject to wash, and we might secure soil-protection with less
crop-limitation. There would then be less need to press the culture of
the cereals so far as we do now, and they could be limited more largely
to surfaces less subject to harmful soil-loss.

Another of nature's marked methods is the formation of plant-
societies, or, from our point of view, combination-crops. No doubt

SOIL WASTAGE n

there is much deleterious crowding and repressive rivalry among the
natural mixtures of plants, but at the same time there seem to be
associations that are mutually beneficial. No doubt man secures a
great temporary advantage by isolating chosen plants and freeing them
from competition, but this is clearly at some permanent disadvantage
which is partially corrected by rotation, fertilizing and tilth. Can not a
greater advantage be secured by a larger use of the combination method ?
It is clear that legumes and cereals are helpful associates in rotation
and in some combinations. May not the principle be pushed much
farther by the modern processes of selection and culture, so that
legumes and cereals may be made more intimate companions in culture ;
so that, indeed, such helpful associates may replace weeds as the con-
stant and spontaneous companions of the crops we cultivate? While
kept in such subordination as to be servants of the chosen crop, may
they not still aid effectively in covering and protecting the soil and thus
guard against undue surface loss. Certainly much can be done by
such congenial plants, used as fall, winter and spring crops, to cover the
soil when specially exposed to wastage.

These and similar devices may be used to reduce the bare surfaces
so much developed by present modes of cultivation, and may make it
possible to cover permanently by profitable protecting crops the slopes
where surface wash is most menacing.

But a critical question remains to be answered : Can such modes of
soil-management and crop-selection be made to give reasonable profits?
Before we can hope that the millions who till the soils will join
effectively in a radical scheme of soil-conservation, it must be made to
appear that the scheme will give reasonable returns at every large
stage of its progress ; must pay, let us say, in the long run of a lifetime.
We may fairly assume that intelligent people will be guided by the total
returns of a lifetime in lieu of beguilement by the ultra-quick returns
of forced and wasteful cropping in total neglect of later results. It
may be assumed that he who tills a farm from his twentieth to his
sixtieth year will find more satisfaction in the summed profits of forty
crops of increasing value, enhanced by the higher value of his land at
the end, even, though the margin above cost be no greater, than in the
sum of forty crops of decreasing values with a debased land at the
end. Our practical problem is, therefore, to so improve processes, to
so increase intelligent management, and to so exalt the point of view,
that every large step in the processes proposed shall give satisfactory
returns for the labor involved. How far this is practicable just now,
I must leave to those whose technical knowledge in the practical art of
tillage fits them to answer; but it is clear that if such protective meas-
ures are not profitable now, they must soon become so; for, if the loss
of soil proceeds at the present rate and the number of inhabitants

i2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

continues to increase as now, the value of the residue of tillable land
which will remain after a few centuries will so appreciate as to force
extreme measures for its conservation. The pitiable struggles of cer-
tain oriental peoples to retain and cultivate the scant remnants of once
ample soils is both an example and a warning. Our escape from such
a dire struggle should spring from a clearer forevision, a deeper in-
sight, greater technical skill and indefatigable industry.

Note. — Much valuable literature bearing on this and kindred sub-
jects will be found in the numerous publications of the U. S. Depart-
ment of Agriculture and the several State Agricultural Stations.
Notable among these is the Farmers' Bulletin No. 20 on " Washed
Soils," and a special contribution to " Soil Erosion " by W J McGee.
The fundamental work on " Bocks, Weathering and Soils," by Dr.
Geo. P. Merrill, of the National Museum, is also to be noted. Par-
ticularly valuable are the writings of Professor F. H. King on " Soils,"
" Soil Physics " and " Soil Management," and, especially for the south
and west, the work on " Soils," by Professor E. W. Hilgard.

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 13

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVEE PROBLEM

by WALTER SHELDON TOWER, Ph.D.

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA

THE project for a deep waterway from the Great Lakes to the Gulf
has been dreamed about and discussed intermittently for half a
century, but nothing definite ever came of it until a little over a year
ago, when, from a conference held at St. Louis, there was born the
permanent organization called the " Lakes to the Gulf Deep Waterways
Association." That this concerted movement came at the psychological
moment has been indicated by subsequent events. Last winter the
Rivers and Harbors Congress in session at Washington supported the
project. The president in his Memphis address heartily endorsed the
enterprise; shortly afterward his annual message called attention to
the need for river improvement and the question is now in the hands
of congress with some definite action sure to come in the near future.

Within the last decade, this country has entered three fields of gov-
ernment activity, forest conservation, reclamation of arid and swamp
lands and the building of the Isthmian Canal, the far-reaching results
of which can scarcely be estimated at this time. The development of
a ship channel through the Mississippi Valley, with feeding lines in the
larger tributaries, would likewise be of such tremendous importance to
the economic progress of the country that it must be ranked second to
none in the list of great national policies.

A few simple statements of fact furnish striking evidence of the
need for such a waterway. The drainage basin of the Mississippi sys-
tem covers an area of approximately a million and a quarter square
miles, or rather more than two fifths of the United States proper. This
two fifths of the country is the real heart and soul of the nation's pros-
perity. With its development the United States has not only become
independent of the rest of the world, but also has risen with tremendous
strides to stand as the greatest producer of food-stuffs that the world
ever has seen or ever will see. More than half the total population of
the country to-day is found in the score of states bordering directly on
the navigable portions of the Mississippi system. As the population
increases the most rapid growth must be in these same states, until
a century hence with hundreds of millions of people living between the
slopes of the Alleghenies and the Rockies, there will exist in the Missis-
sippi Valley the highest and most permanent type of civilization in
the history of man. Three fourths of the world's cotton crop is raised

H POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

in the United States, and the heart of the cotton belt must for all time
lie in Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas. Our corn crop is three times
as great as for the rest of the world combined, and, though corn is
widely grown both north and south, the chief corn belt naturally cen-
ters in the Upper Mississippi and Ohio Valleys. For example, five
states, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska and Missouri, raise over half
the total for the country, or, astounding as it may seem, nearly 40 per
cent, of the entire world's crop. Wheat, cattle, hogs, vast quantities of
oats, hay, potatoes, lumber, coal and other mineral products come
mainly from the Mississippi Valley, each one in point of quantity
leading all other nations of the world, and yet no one denies that the
limit of productivity is far from being reached. Out of this list, cotton,
meat products and bread-stuffs make up a large part of our foreign
commerce, with half the world's mileage of railroads required to get
the products to the seaports. As might be expected, by far the thickest
railroad net is in the Mississippi Valley, yet the roads there have found
their facilities increasingly inadequate to handle the produce of the
region. " Shortage of cars " has become a familiar complaint in the
wheat fields of the northwest. Corn and cotton in the states along the
Mississippi have been kept out of the markets because of increased
rates on rail shipments. On every side the farmers have raised the
cry, " Better freight facilities," but the railroads have steadily failed
to meet the demand. Conditions have gone from bad to worse until
now the harassed producers see that their only salvation lies in the
development of the routes so bountifully supplied by nature, with coor-
dination of rail and water facilities to prevent disastrous opposition.

It is not a case of providing merely enough to meet present needs,
for the growth of this vast interior storehouse still continues with
gigantic strides. Irrigation, dry farming, swamp drainage, and the
exploration of the whole world to give new crop species, are opening
every year areas which have heretofore produced little or nothing, while
crop improvement and intelligent soil management are adding millions
of bushels to the yield of the older regions. Marked by developments
unparalleled in the history of the world, there seems to be no limit to
the enormous capacity to produce over areas measured in tens of thou-
sands of square miles, areas whose crops alone determine panic or pros-
perity for the entire nation ; areas wherein lie the sinews of the greatest
and most stable world power in all history. Not England, nor Russia,
nor China, not any other nation or continent of the world, can equal
in all its territory the unbounded natural advantages of the Missis-
sippi Basin. Yet with each added harvest the pinch of traffic conges-
tion and heavy transportation charges are felt by an increasing propor-
tion of the population, and as long as such conditions continue the full
economic development of the region must be seriously hampered.

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 15

The logical solution of all the difficulties lies clearly enough in
the utilization of the great arterial system of waterways afforded by
the Mississippi and its tributaries. The time was when these rivers
were the life currents of the region. In the days when river craft plied
the Mississippi, Missouri and Ohio are found the conditions which
gave birth to, and stimulated the growth of, St. Louis, Cincinnati,
Louisville, Memphis, St. Joseph, Kansas City, Omaha and a host of
other river cities of all sizes. To-day these cities are railroad centers,
but by that very fact of having ready-made terminals the development
of the water route takes on added value. Take, for example, St. Paul
and Minneapolis, at the head of navigation on the Upper Mississippi,
the greatest flour-milling centers in the world, shippers of hundreds
of thousands of tons for both home and foreign markets and at the same
time the logical railroad centers for a large section of our own north-
west and Canada. Kansas City, almost in the geographical center of
the country and undoubtedly destined to become one of the greatest
inland cities of the continent, with St. Joseph, Omaha and Sioux City,
all lie in the range of former navigation on the Missouri and stand as
important shipping centers for the great corn, wheat and cattle trade
of the country back of them. The vast quantities of products handled
at these places are mainly bulky goods which do not suffer seriously
from relatively slow transit, but which do need most urgently the
means of getting to market at the lowest possible transportation charge.
No better illustration of the advantage of shipment by water can be
found than that afforded by the coal trade from Pittsburg to points
on the Mississippi. Coal can be sent from Pittsburg to New Orleans
by river, 2,000 miles, for about 75 cents a ton, while the rate by rail
to Memphis, 807 miles, is over $3 per ton. On the basis of the charge
per ton per mile, the latter rate is about ten times as heavy as the
former, a fact which becomes strikingly significant when it is consid-
ered that a saving of a single mill per ton mile means $1,000 saved
on every shipment of 1,000 tons going 1,000 miles. A similar saving
on a comparatively small part of the annual cereal crop alone in those
states bordering the Mississippi system would very soon reach a total
surprisingly close to the entire cost of improving the navigation.

A waterway with a depth of fourteen feet from New Orleans to
Chicago, with channels of less depth in the Ohio and Missouri, would
almost unquestionably solve the problem of traffic congestion and high
freight rates for a great area of the productive west. It would be a
movement directly in line with the policies of various European
nations, where far less valuable waterways in thickly settled districts
have been utilized most profitably. It is an enterprise which the
United States must inevitably undertake sooner or later as the density
of population increases throughout the Mississippi Valley. Kailroads,

16 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

thoroughly equipped, yet inadequate to meet the conditions of the
present time, will be relatively less able to cope with the rapidly grow-
ing demands for transportation facilities in the future. Already in
the more densely populated portions of the country waterways once
abandoned are being rehabilitated. The country can not long afford
to ignore the possibilities presented by the development of the greatest
natural highway in the world — the Mississippi and its navigable tribu-
taries. It can not be denied that the improvement of our greatest
inland waterways will be followed by vastly more important industrial
and commercial advantages than can ever result from the opening of
the Panama Canal. These advantages would be not to the people of
the Mississippi Valley alone, but to the people of every county and
corner of the Union through their dependence on the products of this
region.

The project, however, is not at all simple — it is an undertaking
fraught with problems which, unless met rightly at the start, must
inevitably defeat the entire purpose of improvement. Like all big
rivers, the Mississippi and its tributaries have bad habits, the worst
of which are devastating floods, followed by very low stages of water
at other times; rapid changes in the course through sapping of the
banks; and constant shifting of the channel, often over night, on
account of the formation of sand bars. In these respects our rivers
are not necessarily any worse than others, in fact, they are not so
bad as many of the great rivers of the world, but the correction of these
habits becomes an unavoidable and serious question when efficient
improvement for navigation is undertaken. The question of river con-
trol and improvement is most intimately connected with forestry, farm-
ing, mining and other industries, since they in many cases largely
determine the particular problems with which man must deal. In the
Ohio the overwhelming spring floods and low water stages of summer
are the chief difficulties, with slack water dams doing much to remedy
the latter condition and make navigation possible at all times. The
sand-bar evil in the Missouri is so great and so perplexing that it com-
pletely overshadows the question of flood control and sapping of banks,
which are in themselves of no slight importance. Along the lower
Mississippi from St. Louis to the Gulf all three problems urgently
demand attention, since this portion of the river represents the trunk
line of the entire deep waterways system; and it is just here that the
physical conditions surrounding the river make correction or control
the most difficult.

From St. Louis southward, the river course follows a broad alluvial
plain, which gradually increases in width to about 100 miles near the
Gulf. This broad river flat is composed of a soft, highly-productive
soil, fine-grained and of indefinite depth, in which the river has devel-
oped such a tortuous course that while the air-line distance from Cairo

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 17

to the Gulf is about six hundred miles, the journey by water is twice
as long. On every one of the many turns and bends throughout the
whole twelve hundred miles the river is constantly undermining and
wearing away the outer bank of the channel in just the same way as
the outer rail of a curve on a railroad is worn rapidly and must soon
be replaced. The fine-grained, loose character of the soil greatly facili-
tates the undermining action, especially during the irresistible rush of
flood waters.

This habit of eating away its banks is perhaps the worst which can
be charged against the lower Mississippi, and presents one of the most
serious problems in the whole question of control. Needless to say the
unceasing changing of the course is vitally important to the plantation
owner, who sees his fertile land steadily vanishing, often at the rate
of 300, 400 or more feet a year along his entire water front. It is
still more important to the towns and shipping points located along
the river. New Orleans is the only big city located directly on the
river flat, and, fortunately for the city, it is at a place where the river's
course is now comparatively straight. Other cities, like Memphis,
Vicksburg and Natchez, are located on the high bluff where the river
swings close against the eastern side of its valley. These latter towns
have secured immunity from floods, but even simple changes in the
channel would deprive them completely of their water fronts and strike
fatal blows at their prosperity.

Even the present extent of the river traffic demands that there shall
be more or less villages directly along the river and steamboat landings
at various points, but every one of these places enjoys only a temporary
existence. Since the river current hugs close along the outer side of
every curve in its course, it follows that the deepest water, and hence
the main channel, also lies near the outer bank. The natural result is
that all steamboat landings and all important shipping points must be
located on the outer banks of curves, as is found to be the case all
along the river. The difficulty which lies therein is obvious enough,
for with rapid undermining of the outer bank of all bends, the river
is alwa3Ts tending to destroy the water front of every place so situated.
The history of the landings below Cairo shows that practically every
one of them has been driven back before the advancing river at the
rate of 100 to 150 feet a year for the last quarter of a century.

That this condition is felt on a larger scale than by mere landings
is shown by the case of Greenville, Mississippi. This city of nearly
8,000 people, the largest river port between Vicksburg and Memphis,
is the flourishing commercial center for an important part of the lower
valley, yet imminent ruin is even now staring it in the face. Green-
ville stands on the outer bank of a great curve in the river with three
other curves up-stream from it. Narrow necks of land separate the

vol. Lxxm. — 2.

1 8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

different curves, and these necks are rapidly disappearing as the banks
cave in. Twenty-five years ago at the curve farthest up-stream from
the city the neck was over 4,000 feet wide, five years ago it was less
than half that width and was caving badly. The neck below the city
is only half a mile wide and is also yielding rapidly to the attacks of
the river. Greenville is confronted with these alternatives : If the neck
below the city is cut through first by continued sapping, the city will
be left high and dry, five miles from the river and its reason for exist-
ing will be gone. If, on the contrary, the neck above the city is the
first to succumb, the resulting changes in the channel will cause most
vigorous scouring of the bank exactly where Greenville stands and it
will be speedily swept away. The levee now stands where the main
street once ran and, despite every effort to stop it, the town has been
forced to play leap frog over itself to keep away from the advancing
river. Through the expenditure of a million dollars in protective
devices the crisis has been delayed, yet the city is doomed eventually,
and the money spent in its protection must be regarded as wasted.

St. Joseph, Missouri, with a population exceeding 100,000, and
one of the most important centers of the west, faces a somewhat similar
fate from the Missouri river. Opposite the city the stream swings
around a great bend, St. Joseph being located on the bluff above the
river bottoms. Some smaller villages on the flat have already been
swallowed up in the stream, and, at its present rate, the current will
soon cut its way through the narrow neck which lies a few miles west
of the city, severing the Grand Island railroad, rendering the big steel
bridges at St. Joseph practically useless, making new bridges over the
new channel necessary, cutting off the intake of the water supply, and
leaving the city without any outlet for its sewer system. Here, again,
somewhat over a million dollars has been spent in river work above and
below the city, but the banks have continued to cave, and St. Joseph
is facing the prospect of being left higher and dryer than Greenville.
From the standpoint of transportation by water, however, the loss of
the river front at St. Joseph would not now be a serious calamity, since
the Missouri route is at present rendered quite useless by the excessive
formation of sand bars.

Both the federal government and the Chicago and Alton railroad
have spent large sums in an attempt to control the Missouri at Glasgow.
Kaskaskia, the one-time capital of Illinois, has been wiped out of exist-
ence by the changing current of the Mississippi, while the prospect of
a cut-off at Cowpen Bend, above Natchez, indicates that the harbor
of that city will be destroyel by the deposition of large quantities of
sand along the entire water front. Striking as these individual cases
may be in themselves, the question of this cutting away of the banks,
accompanied by deposition of sand in other places, takes on far greater
significance as soon as costly improvements are suggested. It is unde-

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 19

niable that what is happening along the river to-day is a true sample
of what the river may be expected to do every day as long as the existing
conditions prevail. A fourteen-foot channel presupposes important
movements of goods from many points along the river. Large ship-
ments can not be handled readily or economically without expensive
modern terminal facilities along the river front, but the building of
such terminal facilities can not be expected as long as they are threat-
ened with the same fates as now confront Greenville, Natchez and
St. Joseph.

The flood evil, the second great problem to be met in the control
and improvement of the Mississippi system, has been fresh in the minds
of every one since the disastrous spring of 1903, when the loss of prop-
erty amounted to fifty or sixty million dollars. The flood problem
applies not only to the main Mississippi itself, but perhaps even more
vitally to its chief tributaries, the Missouri and Ohio, which must be
regarded as the main feeders to any proposed improvement. The total
loss from a few historic floods in these streams has been tremendous.
In 1881 and 1882 the floods of the Ohio and lower Mississippi caused
a loss of $15,000,000. In 1881 the Ohio Valley alone suffered to the
extent of $10,000,000. An area twice the size of New Jersey was laid
waste along the lower Mississippi in the spring of 1897 with losses
again reckoned in tens of millions of dollars. The unprecedented rav-
ages of the Missouri came in May and June of 1903, and finally this
last year saw damage to an extent estimated at not less than $100,-
000,000 in the Ohio Valley. In the last quarter of a century, there-
fore, the plain money loss from a single half-dozen floods approaches
a quarter of a billion dollars, while the sum total from all floods must
be acknowledged to equal many times over the entire cost of the most
effective and permanent means of protection.

The principal cause of the floods in the Mississippi is heavy or pro-
longed rains at certain seasons of the year, a primal cause, which lies
beyond the power of man to control, but which has been greatly aided
in its effects by wide spread deforestation about the head waters. Flood
conditions vary widely in the different tributaries. The Missouri has
the largest drainage basin of any of the tributaries, about 540,000
square miles, but the average rainfall over the region is small, unusually
heavy and long-continued rains are less frequent, and, because of porous
soils and excessive evaporation, only a small part of the rainfall passes
off in surface drainage. As a result of these conditions, the Missouri
supplies only about one seventh the total discharge of the Mississippi,
and is, on the whole, as regards floods, the least important of the large
tributaries. The upper Mississippi, with a drainage area only a third
as large as that of the Missouri, turns in about one fifth the total
volume of the main stream, while the Ohio, draining approximately
200,000 square miles, sends down a third of all the water discharged

20 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

by the Mississippi. These three rivers, therefore, yield over 60 per
cent, of the gross volume, the remainder being divided between the
White, Arkansas, St. Francis, Yazoo and Eed rivers, which join the
main stream too near the mouth to be important factors in the pro-
duction of severe floods.

The Ohio is, on the whole, much the worst flood offender, partly
because of its normally greater volume, and partly because of the
conditions existing in the region it drains. The major portion of the
areas drained by the Missouri and the upper Mississippi are distinctly
less rugged than the Ohio basin, and over both areas the heaviest
rainfall, coming in May and June, arrives at a season when the soil can
take a large percentage of it. The largest tributaries of the Ohio, on
the contrary, in etching their valleys in the surface of the Allegheny
plateau, have produced the steepest and most rugged parts of the whole
Appalachian region. Here the heaviest rainfall comes in January,
February and March. Add to these factors the frequent complications
of melting snow and frozen ground, which sheds water like a house
roof, a district largely deforested, and the enormous destruction by
sudden rising of the Ohio is explained. It is truly fortunate that by
the provisions of nature the three rivers, the Ohio, the Mississippi and
the Missouri, have never been known, and probably never will be known,
to be in extreme flood at the same time. Such an unhappy coincidence
of high stages, if it came about, would quite certainly mean total oblit-
eration for everything in the lower valley.

The flood evil is in a large way the underlying cause of most of
the trouble in the Mississippi. At time of flood, the erosive power of
the river is increased a hundredfold, caving of the banks is often exces-
sive, levees situated rods from the channel before the flood and appar-
ently safe are undermined, and the narrowing of necks between bends
is greatly accelerated or quickly accomplished. Much of the damage
from floods must be laid to the cavings of banks by which landings are
destroyed and whole plantations are soon swept away, while through
breaks in the undermined levees the raging waters sweep over the sur-
rounding country. This spread of the flood is fostered by the fact that
the river channel lies above the surrounding bottom lands. To the
naked eye the region appears absolutely level, but from the river the
broad plain slopes away at a rate varying from four to thirteen feet
per mile. Once outside its channel, therefore, the water finds a natural
course down hill into every part of the back country, carrying destruc-
tion wherever it goes. Unfortunately, this character of the river can
not be altered; on the contrary, the more the river is confined between
artificial levees and restricted in the area over which it is free to
spread, the greater will be the devastation whenever a flood does occcur,
so that with the extension of the levee system the occurrence of floods
becomes an increasingly serious problem. The recognition of this fact

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 21

can not be urged too strongly, for until the flood waters are under
absolute control, the construction of a deep channel, no matter whether
it be in the river itself or in the form of a canal along the stream,
must be clone in the face of constant danger of having the entire
system crippled and large portions destroyed whenever overflow takes
place.

Again, Avhen the river is in flood, as it is to a certain degree every
year, it is carrying along the greatest amount of sediment, much of
which represents the most fertile part of the soil. The total amount
so carried is almost beyond conception, but to carry it by freight train
would require 500 trains for every working-day in the year, each train
consisting of fifty cars with a capacity of fifty tons. Besides this tre-
mendous quantity poured out into the Gulf every year, other incalcul-
able masses are deposited as bars all along the course, and as the water
falls to its normal level these bars are a constant menace to every form
of navigation. The presence of these obstructions and their rapid
shifting from day to day has always been one of the most serious
handicaps to river transportation. In fact, the abandonment of navi-
gation on the Missouri may be laid entirely to the utter inability to
cope with the shifting sands. Deforestation, cultivation of the land
especially, and mining operations, are vitally important in the question
of soil washing, surface erosion and the amount of sediment in the
streams.

The project for a deep waterway for commercial purposes, there-
fore, is confronted with these serious problems which must be solved
before the government can afford to spend one or two hundred million
dollars in river improvement. Some system of control must be devised
to insure to water fronts and terminal facilities a reasonable degree of
permanency through protection against erosion of the banks. There
must be some way of checking disastrous floods which would in a single
season, and perhaps year after year, destroy improvements costing
millions of dollars — as the experience of some of the eastern canalized
rivers indicates. The prevention of low-water stages is no less impor-
tant, since marked variations in the water level make it difficult to
establish the necessary terminal facilities. Finally, the formation of
sand bars must be stopped, otherwise it means stupendous, unending
and probably ineffective, dredging operations in an attempt to keep
the channel open.

If the Missouri could be removed from the list of tributaries by
giving it a separate mouth, the sand-bar problem would no longer exist,
since that stream contributes over 60 per cent, of the total brought into
the Mississippi. Eeducing the load by 60 per cent, would certainly
mean that the Mississippi could then keep its own channel clear. But
the idea of providing a separate course for the Missouri from St. Louis
to the Gulf is too daring even to be suggested. Moreover, it would

22 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

remove from the immediate benefit of the deep waterways project those
important communities which hope for renewed navigation on the
Missouri.

If the entire lower Mississippi were given a new course free from
sharp bends, as could be done readily by cutting through the successive
necks, the sapping and caving of banks would cease and the distance
from St. Louis to New Orleans would be lessened nearly by half. That
this plan is entirely feasible is amply demonstrated by the success of
the Germans in correcting and straightening the Khine. The Khine,
if possible, presented a more difficult problem than does the Mississippi,
but the German engineers recognized the fact that where sharp bends
exist it is impossible to prevent entirely undermining and caving of the
banks. Acting on this principle, it was decided to give the river a
practically new course, less winding than the former, and in which
future control is insured. Unfortunately, this procedure applied to
the Mississippi would not be an adequate remedy for the floods, nor
would it effectively prevent the formation of sand bars. It is unques-
tioned, however, that the flood stages would run off more rapidly and
a greater amount of sand would be scoured from the channel, since in
a shortened course the river would have a steeper descent and conse-
quently a more rapid flow with increased carrying power. The cor-
rected course undeniably has much to recommend it, aside from the
mere facts of feasibility and a shorter route.

If the high-water stages of floods could be prevented and the flow
of the river controlled, the practical solution of the question would be
at hand, for the major part of the sediment is washed into the streams
incident to the flood time, and the excessive flood volume causes most
of the caving of banks. For a good many years the federal govern-
ment has been at work on the Mississippi, building levees to control
or prevent floods, placing revetments along the banks to check the
caving action, and operating powerful sand pumps to remove the
shifting bars. It is estimated that in the last forty years the govern-
ment has spent all of $225,000,000 on the Mississippi and its more
important tributaries, not a single dollar of which has gone toward
permanent improvement, except in the case of the jetties at the mouth,
the slack water dams on the Ohio and the removal of rock ledges at
a few points. Fifty million dollars of the total amount has gone into
the construction of some 1,400 miles of levees and revetments along
the lower course, but before the national government undertook the
task of control, the states of Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas had
already spent not less than $40,000,000 toward the same end. Enough
similar work has been done at one time or another by private indi-
viduals, so that, first and last, the levee-revetment system to date repre-
sents an outlay of fully $100,000,000. Yet not one cent has been
devoted to the control of the excessive floods which come almost every

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 23

year in some of the tributaries, simply because the levee method can
not be applied there. It must be admitted that the levee system affords
fairly efficient protection from ordinary floods, in so far as damage
from overflow in the lower valley is concerned, but its desirability is
seriously impaired by the fact that the levees must be constantly
replaced. Just as long as the river is allowed to swing against its
banks the soft alluvial soil will continue to cave in; levees originally
built back from the channel are eventually undermined, rendered useless,
and then in cases of high water stages, unless a second line of levees
exists, the entire region is open to devastation. Until the sapping
action of the river is under control there can be no such thing as a
system of levees built once for all. Even the most optimistic advocates
of this plan do not claim more than twenty to thirty years for the life
of any levee.

It is undeniable that the army engineers in charge of the work have
accomplished much in saving large areas from annual inundation, but
they have not to any extent permanently improved the river as a high-
way of commerce. Furthermore, they have signally failed in the
attempts to stop erosion of the banks, for past experience shows that
no style of revetment yet devised will offer more than partial or brief
protection from that action. In fifteen years some landings have been
forced back more than a mile, and at important points where careful
revetting has been done the retreat is said to have exceeded 1,000 feet.
The levee-revetment system as now practised may be the simplest way
of protecting agricultural interests on the river flats, but it is certainly
not the most economical in the end, nor does it in any way afford even
a temporary solution of the great problems confronting navigation and
river commerce. The heavy expense of maintenance must go on with-
out end until the sum total of expenditure will aggregate vastly more
than the cost of the proper, permanent remedy. The most serious of
all the shortcomings charged against present methods, however, is that
they do not strike at the root of the evils. The place to control floods
is where they originate, in the tributaries, and thus protect both tribu-
tary and main valleys; as well try to fight fires by blowing away the
smoke as to control the floods by levees along the lower course. To
improve the river to the extent of a fourteen-foot channel to St. Louis
would be a foolish waste of money as long as the levee-revetment system
is the chief method of control.

Various other methods of control have been suggested from time to
time, but most of them do not appear feasible or to offer the desired
results. The rearrangement of tributaries, either by diversion or by
addition, has been advocated, since the addition of tributaries to the
Po very materially lessened the flood evil, the increased volume and
velocity having caused a marked deepening and widening of the channel.
In the Mississippi case, however, there are no important streams which

24 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

could be added, and the only possible source of increased volume is
by giving the Great Lakes an artificial outlet by way of the Illinois
Eiver. A certain amount of diversion or rearrangement of tributaries
would be possible, though not very practicable, as in getting rid of the
load of sediment from the Missouri, or in turning the Tennessee
through the Big Hatchie Eiver to reduce the Ohio floods. But in all
of these radical schemes the possible benefits to be derived are far out-
weighed by the inevitable difficulties and disadvantages. It is unques-
tioned that the tributary system must remain as it is now.

The construction of artificial outlet channels to take off the excess
volumes which produce floods has been suggested many times, and it
seems likely that if constructed in sufficient numbers they would prove
effective. There would, however, always be great difficulty in keeping
the outlets sufficiently free from sand so that their usefulness should
remain unimpaired. A second and more serious objection to the outlet
scheme is that in the lower valley, where the flood control is most
difficult and the flood damage most wide-spread, the outlets would have
to be provided by turning the water over the low-lying bottom lands.
Outlet reservoirs could not be maintained because of the sand and mud
with which they would be speedily filled. Under such conditions, there-
fore, the outlet plan clearly defeats one of the chief objects of flood
control — the protection of rich plantations covering thousands of square
miles on the river bottoms.

The solution by building a series of reservoirs in the head-waters
'of the chief tributaries appears to be the cheapest and most certain
remedy for all these difficulties. By the construction of reservoirs the
excess of water which produces flood stages could be impounded and
held up with these important results : excessive and destructive high-
water stages could not occur, while, on the other hand, by regulating
the discharge from the reservoirs, a more even flow of water could be
maintained at all times, eliminating to a large degree the losses from
diminished water supply, reduced power and fouling of streams inci-
dent to the low stages of late summer and early autumn. As soon as
the irresistible rush of flood waters is stopped the sapping and caving
of banks will be reduced to a minimum, with the efficiency of revet-
ments increased many fold; finally, cutting down the flood volumes
means a great diminution of the amount of sediment carried, and a
marked alleviation of the sand-bar evil. The reservoirs would, more-
over, eliminate floods from the whole system, not merely from the
lower course. The prevention of the annual flood damage in the Ohio
would in itself be worth the entire cost of the reservoirs, yet until the
work of control is carried to the headwaters no relief can be secured
for that populous valley.

The solution by head-water reservoirs, of all proposed plans, has
probably provoked the most discussion — on the one side, those who

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 25

regard it as impossible, or, at least, highly impracticable; on the other
side, those who consider that it is not only feasible but at once the
only proper remedy. It is admitted by every one that the topography
of the country about the head-waters of the Mississippi system is espe-
cially well adapted to the construction of retention dams and reservoirs.
The arguments advanced against this plan, though admitting this con-
dition of favorable topography, maintain that sufficiently large reser-
voirs could not be constructed and made safe or, in other words, they
would, through danger of bursting, be a constant menace to the whole
valley below the retaining dam. Again it is argued that if this plan
were adopted, the building of reservoirs would have to be done on an
enormous scale, since destructive floods often result from local condi-
tions, such as a swollen tributary superimposed on an already swollen
river. This necessity for a widely extended system of reservoirs, it is
further claimed, would involve such tremendous expense as to make
the adoption of the plan impossible. Most of these supposed objections
are still based on a report made to congress nearly fifty years ago, and,
whether good or bad arguments then, there is no question that they do
not apply now.

It is flying in the face of cold facts to contend any longer that
reservoirs to retain the flood waters can not be built, or not without
danger to the entire valley below. The Ohio floods of 1907, the most
disastrous for more than two decades, were due to an excess of water
estimated at 23,000,000,000 cubic feet. To hold every drop of that
excess discharge would have required a reservoir only a little more than
half as big as the Pathfinder irrigation storage reservoir on the North
Platte Eiver in Wyoming, or one third of the size of the reservoir in
the Salt Eiver project in Arizona. The Engle dam on the Eio Grande,
a hundred miles north of El Paso, Texas, will impound about 120,000,-
000,000 cubic feet of water, equal to one sixtieth of the total annual
discharge of the entire Mississippi system, or more than five times the
quantity of water causing the most destructive Ohio flood in a score
of years. These reservoirs are being built by the government at a cost
of about $4,000,000 for the Pathfinder dam, $5,300,000 for the Salt
Eiver project and $7,200,000 for the Eio Grande reservoir. Further-
more, it is expressly stated by the Eeclamation Service that the Wyoming
reservoir and the Engle dam will absolutely control the worst floods
which the North Platte and the Eio Grande have ever known, the latter
of these streams having been a notorious offender in flood damage.
The mere fact of being able to retain the flood waters in impounding
reservoirs can no longer be denied, nor can the claim of danger from
breaking dams be now advanced as a valid argument against this
system. This government is most assuredly not spending millions in
reclamation projects and encouraging thousands of people to take up

26 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

irrigated lands if there is any remote likelihood of having homes, prop-
erty and lives wiped out in floods from bursting reservoirs.

Granting, then, that the reservoirs are feasible, there still remains
the question of expense in constructing the number necessary to place
one or more in each of the most important tributaries. Estimate
the expense most generously, letting each one cost a third more
than the Engle dam above El Paso, and the total figure then is less
than what has already been spent on the Mississippi system. But
there is another important factor to be considered — the tremendous
possibilities which lie in the development of water power from each
reservoir. The question of future motive power for industrial purposes,
as the coal supply decreases, is a problem which must soon be met in
this country, and probably will be solved by the use of water power
either directly or through electricity. In fact, even now, water rights
are being rapidly acquired and developed on every hand, as the advance
guard of the change that is to come. A sample of what a storage
reservoir will do can be seen in the case of the comparatively small
irrigation project at Minidoka, Idaho, which will develop about 30,000
horse power per year. Eenting this power at the very low figure of
$10 per horse power per year would pay for the entire Minidoka
project, reservoir, irrigation-canals, gates and all, in six years. The
amount of power generated by the Mississippi system is variously
estimated high and low, with 60,000,000 horse power per year as an
intermediate figure. Much of this amount is not directly available,
but granting on a conservative basis that a series of impounding reser-
voirs would develop immediately 2 per cent, of that amount, there
would be 1,200,000 horse power to be turned into electricity and dis-
tributed to factories. A purely nominal rental would be ample enough
to repay in two or three decades the entire original expense of the
system, besides a good income on the investment. The reservoir sys-
tem, however, must be intimately associated with forest conservation as
a vital factor in regulating surface drainage and in checking the
amount of soil erosion which supplies sediment to the river.

The proper building of reservoirs in the headwaters, therefore,
offers what no other plan can possibly offer : it promises effective regu-
lation of river stages and water supply for all time to come, removing
entirely the liability of destructive floods, checking the erosion of banks
and preventing much of the formation and shifting of sand bars and
the pollution of water which the presence of sediment means. At the
same time it provides a way of actually paying for itself in short order,
aside from all idea of the savings to shippers and river interests in
general which would be in excess of the cost. The importance of this
latter consideration is emphasized best by a brief comparison with the
system now being followed. The levee-revetment system, as mapped
out, calls for an expenditure of $60,000,000 for its completion. From

THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER PROBLEM 27

the engineers themselves comes the statement that the average life of
a levee is not over twenty years, which means this and no more : in two-
score years, at the most liberal estimate, the present system, completed,
will have disappeared entirely and a new series of levees constructed
at the cost of another $60,000,000 will have taken its place, with condi-
tions then no better than they are now. Considered solely on their
own merits from the standpoint of control afforded, the present system
has nothing, and the reservoir plan has everything, to recommend it.

In order to bring the river route to its highest possible degree of
efficiency, it would be necessary to combine the reservoir system with a
straightened course for the lower river, by which combination every
evil would be removed and absolute control for all time would be
insured. The reservoirs would make it possible to regulate the flow
of the streams, preventing both floods and very low water, and at the
same time, through developed horse power, pay for the improvements.
The corrected or straightened course would shorten the route and
effectively put an end to caving of the banks with all the difficulties
arising from it at present. Together the reservoirs, with the necessary
forest conservation and corrected course, would remove the sand bar
problem — the one greatly lessening the actual amount of sand carried
into the river, the other giving the current increased power to sweep
its own channel clean.

It is undeniable that this plan calls for a large expenditure for its
completion, but in the long run so does the levee-revetment system,
without anything tangible to show for the outlay in the end. The
whole question narrows itself down to a single issue: whether it is not
better policy to do the right thirjg at the start, even if it require great
initial outlay, rather than follow a plan which means the reconstruction
of part of the so-called improvements every decade for centuries, with
the region concerned always chafing under the handicap of a mediocre,
inadequate waterway and -suffering heavy annual losses from uncon-
trollable floods. The waste of money on levees and revetments
ought to cease once for all. Let the federal government authorize the
completion of the entire reservoir system with a straightened course for
the lower river, and loose the bonds which every year are drawn tighter
over this heart of our nation.

28 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE HIGH SCHOOL COUESE1

By President DAVID STARR JORDAN

STANFORD UNIVERSITY

IT has been lately said by an honored teacher that the weakest part
in our educational system is the high school. It has less unity in
theory and less definiteness in practise than any other, and those who
have charge of its administration are less sure that they are doing the
right thing, than is the case with other types of schools. " As a
forcing house between grammar school and college," says a recent
writer, " the high school hasn't time to do anything very well." Hence
it may be well to try to do fewer things, thus saving time to do some
things better.

If we were to start at the beginning of education we should change
a good many things. Especially should we distinguish between the
college and the university in making the former the stepping-stone
to the latter. But accepting our colleges and universities as they are,
at the same time discarding the results of tradition and of half-hearted
experiment, what should the high school do ? By high school we mean
the instruction in the public school for four years of school life from
the age of 13 or 14 to that of 17 or 18, resting on the primary and
grammar school on the one hand and presumably leading to the college
on the other — in most cases the last of the years in which a student
lives at home and goes to school.

The high school as thus denned has these duties clearly indicated :
to give a rounded development of physical and mental powers, so that
no line of talent shall perish by default; it should indicate and empha-
size that form of ability which will count for most in the conduct of
life and it should do its foundation work with such thoroughness that
the higher education may be built upon it with the certainty that the
attainments shall be solid so far as they go. This is all that the
colleges and universities have the right to ask, and for them to specify
certain classes of subjects regardless of the real interest of the secondary
schools and their pupils is a species of impertinence which only tradi-
tion justifies. To demand thoroughness of secondary instruction and
to enforce this demand in any practicable way is the duty of the college,
but the question of what the high schools shall teach is a question for
these schools to decide for themselves. In general, the high-school

1 Address before the California State Teachers' Association, Santa Cruz, 1907.

THE HIGH SCHOOL COURSE 29

graduate who has a training worth while in the conduct of life is also
well fitted to enter college for further training. In general, too, the
high school must consider its individual students. A well-rounded
training for one is a very lop-sided discipline for another, and the
development of special interests must not be overlooked. For these
reasons a considerable range of choice is necessary in a good high
school. This does not, however, imply an elective system such as the
colleges have found necessary. In an ideal high school system the elec-
tion should be mainly in the hands of the teachers. But at the same
time the wise teacher makes sure that the student maintains a con-
tinuous interest in something. The lack of such sustained interest is
the main reason why most of the boys drop out of the high school to
get where they will be doing something dealing with things, not words.

It is clear that even yet with all the advances or encroachments the
sciences have made, the study of words still fills too large a part in
our secondary schools. The traditional college education was a train-
ing in words. It is easier and cheaper to teach language than anything
else. The average child learns words by rote, while other subjects
demand a more complex method, and the tendency is to fill the child
with words regardless of the dyspepsia and disgust the abnormal diet
may produce.

In my judgment, with the average student and especially the
average young man, some study of natural science ought to go with
every year in the school. The child is surrounded by a world of actuali-
ties, each producing a definite effect on his senses. In an out-of-door
world, he recognizes that external things are real. He knows that the
sun rises in the east, and he soon learns the various phases of woodcraft
and fieldcraft — how to comport himself in the presence of realities.
The constancy in these relations gives to him a kind of moral training,
and the knowledge he obtains he wins at first hand. It is acquired in
terms of his own experience and in such terms all real and helpful
knowledge must always be stated.

In our cities we can not replace the training of the farm, the knowl-
edge of the woods and hills, but we can continue to give in some degree,
the essential part of it — contact with realities and extension of knowl-
edge in terms of experience. This is through real contact with animals,
plants, rocks, chemical compounds and physical instruments, and a
well-conducted scientific laboratory has the same value as out-of-doors
experience, with the great addition that it can be made systematic and
therefore effective for power. The value of genuine nature study, study
of science in out-of-door laboratories is of the very highest order. Not
so the imitation nature-study, the study of sentimentalisms about nature,
of nature words smothered in painted adjectives, now popular in some
quarters. Of still less value are the nature books written as pot-

30 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

boilers by men who would turn out dime novels or problem plays just
as cheerfully if the literary current set in that direction. The student
of realities in nature and the " nature-fakir " are not on speaking terms
with each other.

Once the students cuts entirely loose from real objects, and spends
his days among diacritical marks, irregular conjugations and distinc-
tions without difference, his orientation is lost. He loses the distinction
between what is inherently true and what is true by agreement among
men. He does not go far enough to touch bottom again in the real
science of philology. And the average American boy quits the high
school in disgust because he can not interpret its work in terms of
life — he can not see how its work is related to the world of things as
they are.

As to the relative value of the sciences, that is a minor question.
Those sciences are best which give largest play for observation and judg-
ment. Those sciences are best which can be taught best, with most
accuracy and most enthusiasm. In general, it is better to teach one
science well than two imperfectly, and the reason for teaching any
science is its helpfulness to the mind, not the fact that there may be
money in knowing it. But to have any value at all the science we teach
must deal with realities, not book-science. " If you study nature in
books, when you go out of doors you can not find her."

And this, too, is a reason why manual training of some sort ought
to form some part of every well-balanced school course. Training of
the hand is really training of the brain. This is a motor world we
live in — a world in which men do things. We of America are preemi-
nently a motor people. We do things. What can I do with it is the
first interest of every child. And to learn to do things with the hand
is of greater value as mental training than the disentanglement of
phrases, or the memorizing of lists of verbal irregularities. The devel-
opment of manual training of some sort for all boys and girls will
represent the greatest immediate forward step in secondary education.
But the purpose of this training must be intellectual, not to teach a
trade, and only secondarily to fit for the engineering courses of the
universities.

As the third of the three most important duties of the high school,
I would place the mastery of English. The student ought to learn
how to write good English — clear, accurate and straightforward. He
should read enough good English to know it when it is written. He
should study poetry enough to know what it is about, and if he is to
do any memorizing, there is nothing that enriches the mind so much
as the memory of good verse. I do not know how good English can
be taught. Most of the students who use it seem to have grown up in
it rather than to have learned it in the schools. But it is the most

TEE EWE SCEOOL COURSE 31

important tool of every man who possesses it. It is wanted in every
profession in every walk of life. The high-school course of every man
who acquires it must be judged successful and no pains should be spared
to emhpasize its importance. How to give this power is another ques-
tion. Probably the real teacher of English, like the poet — which
indeed he must be — is born, not made.

The rest of the high-school course has a minor claim on our atten-
tion. Algebra and geometry have a high practical as well as definite
intellectual value. These constitute, moreover, the only door to the
profession of engineering. History may be learned in the high school,
but its significance is mostly seen later. The practical demands of
intelligent citizenship seem to call for modern history, elementary
economics and civil government as high-school subjects. Besides, those
who do not go to college will read no history they do not begin in the
high school. The languages, ancient and modern, have a high value
to those who can master and use them, for every new language opens
to a man a new world and the influences of a new civilization. Most
high-school students get very little from any of them, and the one
intellectually most important — the Greek — is practically excluded from
our secondary schools as being of least practical value. Without in
the least underrating the value of Latin to " roman-minded men," who
make a manly use of it, there is no doubt that the average American
high school boy gets less out of Latin than out of any other subject in
the curriculum. We may regret this, but we must face it as a fact.
For the rest, drawing ought to have a place in the course if only for
its value as an aid to observation. " A pencil is one of the best of
eyes," as Agassiz used to say, and drawing is one of the means of
expressing observation in terms of action.

In brief, the American high school ought to limit the range of its
activities so as not to do too much at the expense of thoroughness. It
ought to broaden its range so as to give to each boy or girl what is
individually best, and it ought to keep in touch throughout with reali-
ties, with the power of doing things, and it ought to cherish as its
choicest art, the cultivation of the power of clear, accurate and original
expression in the greatest of all languages, which is our own.

32 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

COUNT EUMFOKD

BY JOHN CANDEE DEAN
INDIANAPOLIS, IND.

THE annals of history do not record many geniuses who, with so
little effort, and in so short a period of time, attained the high
position occupied by Benjamin Thompson. In England he became
colonel in the army, under secretary of state, knight, fellow of the
Royal Society, founder of the Royal Institution. In Bavaria, minister
of war, major general, count of the Holy Roman Empire ; counselor of
state, chief of state. In France, member of the Institute of France
and lecturer at the Academy of Sciences.

Thompson was born on a farm at Woburn, Mass., in 1753. His
father died when he was an infant, and his mother, having but a
narrow income, took him from school before he was thirteen years of
age and apprenticed him to a merchant at Salem. His thirst for
knowledge was even then insatiable, and he found it impossible to
apply himself to anything except his favorite subjects of study.

His scientific work began at Salem, where his zeal for experiment-
ing nearly ended his career. Having undertaken to prepare some fire-
Avorks for celebrating the repeal of the Stamp Act, the ingredients of a
mortar exploded, burning his face so seriously that it was thought that
his eyesight had been destroyed, but in a few weeks he recovered.

The impending American revolution put a stop to his master's
trade, and he thereupon left Salem for Boston where he continued his
studies, to which he added medicine, anatomy, French fencing and
other accomplishments, meantime supplying himself with necessary
funds by teaching school in adjoining New England towns. He
allowed himself but seven hours' sleep, the remainder of the twenty-
four hours being devoted systematically to reading, study, experiments
and exercise.

The American revolutionary period was prolific of great men.
Washington, Franklin, Jefferson and Thompson were produced from a
population of less than three millions. It is doubtful whether the
vast population of the western hemisphere has since produced one man
to rank with these four gifted men.

When nineteen years of age Thompson moved to Concord, New
Hampshire, where he continued his profession of teaching. Here he
met Mrs. Rolf, a young, attractive and wealthy widow to whom he
was soon married. Among the prominent people whose esteem he won

COUNT HUM FORD

33

was Governor Wentworth, who made him Major of the Second Provin-
cial Regiment. This appointment aroused hostile criticism from
Thompson's fellow officers, who could not repress their indignation on
learning that a young man, not yet of age and without military knowl-
edge, had been raised above veterans whose long service justly entitled
them to advancement. It will be shown presently that this incident
prevented Thompson from engaging in the revolutionary struggle and
led him to foreign lands where his genius had a wider field for

Birthplace at Wobvux, Mass.

development, and where he soon became closely associated with the
most learned and accomplished men of Europe.

In 1774 he left Concord with his wife and infant child and re-
turned to Woburn. Charges were circulated that he was unfriendly
to the cause of American liberty, and soon after the battle of Lexington
he was arrested, and confined at Woburn. His case was heard by the
Town Committee of Correspondence, by whom he was released. The
principal evidence presented against him was that he had employed on
his farm two British deserters, who, wishing to return to the British
army, applied to their employer to secure immunity from punishment.
Thompson complied by giving them a letter to General Gage, in which
he asked that his efforts in their behalf be not disclosed.

VOL. LXXIII.-

Rumford's Statue at Wobubn.

COUNT RUMFORD 35

Major Thompson sought to redeem his reputation by entering the
continental arm}'. He applied to General Washington, then at Cam-
bridge, for a position in the artillery, but his enemies had preceded
him and his services were declined.

Deeming it imprudent to longer remain at home, he left Woburn
in October, 1775, boarded a British vessel at Newport, by which he
was conveyed to Boston, where he remained until the British evacua-
tion. He then sailed for England bearing despatches to Lord Ger-
maine, announcing the fall of Boston. Altogether Major Thompson
was a bearer of bad news, friendless, poor and but twenty-three years
of age, yet he so impressed Lord George Germaine with his intelligence,
graceful manners and knowledge of American affairs that he was at
once taken into his employ. In less than three years from the time
of his arrival in London, he was advanced to the position of under
secretary of state.

Judge Curwen, a tory refugee from Salem, Mass., then residing in

London, wrote in his journal :

This young man, when a shop lad to my next door neighbor, ever appeared
active, good natured and sensible; by a strange occurrence of events he is now
the Under Secretary of State to Lord George Germaine. His income arising
from this source is, I am told, near 7000 Pounds a year. He is besides a mem-
ber of the Royal Society.

Thompson made a series of experiments to test the cohesive attrac-
tion of different liquids, the results of which he communicated to Sir
Joseph Banks, as a means of introduction to that eminent naturalist,
then president of the Boyal Society. This self-introduction was so
successful that he was placed in Sir Joseph's intimate circle of friends,
and he soon became one of the most active members of the Boyal
Society.

His activities were prodigious^ He made a careful study of mili-
tary details; advised and procured the adoption of bayonets for the
fuses of the Horse Guards for fighting on foot ; extended his experi-
ments with gunpowder; determined the proper position for the vent in
fire arms; measured the velocity of bullets and cannon shot; de-
termined the rapidity of combustion and pressure of gunpowder; pub-
lished a pamphlet on naval architecture; made a series of experiments
in firing broadsides with the frigates of the Channel Fleet, commanded
by his worthy friend Sir Charles Hardy; cultivated the acquaintance of
men of station and distinction everywhere; and in addition to all of
the above — as under secretary of state — he had the oversight of the
details of recruiting, equipping, transporting and victualing, the
British forces.

When the official news of the surrender of the British forces at
Y< rktown reached London, Lord George Germaine and his under secre-
tary were obliged to resign, because of the fall of the administration of

36

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Portrait at Thirty Years of Age.

Lord North. The friendship of Viscount Sackville secured for
Thompson a commission of lieutenant colonel in the British army, and
he sailed for New York to command a regiment of cavalry, but con-
trary winds compelled the ship to enter the harbor of Charleston. S. C,
where he remained for several weeks, finally reaching New York in
January, 1782. The war soon being at an end, he left for England
in the following April, after seeing but little actual service in America.

Having been advanced to the full rank of colonel, and there being
no activity in the British army, he determined to add to his fame by
volunteering in the service of Austria against the Turks. On receiving
permission from the King to visit the continent, he left England, still
holding his commission and drawing the half pay of a colonel.

He was now thirty years of age, strikingly handsome, with bright
blue eyes, dark auburn hair, nearly six feet in height, athletic, a grace-

COUNT RUMFORD 37

fu.l horseman, a skillful swordsman, spoke French and German, thus
possessing all the accomplishments of a veritable Admirable Crichton.

When crossing the Channel his fellow voyager was the historian
Gibbon, who, in writing to Lord Sheffield, described his companion as
" Secretary, Colonel, Admiral and Philosopher Thompson." On arriv-
ing at Strasburg he found a military review in progress, commanded
by Prince Maximilian of Bavaria, then field-marshal in the service of
France. Thompson had taken several blooded horses with him from
England, and he appeared at the parade mounted on one of his Eng-
lish thoroughbreds in the full uniform of a colonel in the dragoons.
He at once attracted the attention of the prince, who invited him to
dine, and was so delighted with his company that he asked him to
pass through Munich, giving him a letter to his uncle, the elector of
Bavaria.

Although he spent but five days at Munich, he so captivated the
elector that he was earnestly invited to enter his service ; but still desir-
ing to engage in military service, he continued his journey to Austria.
At Vienna he was presented at court, mingled with the first society,
and received the most nattering attention. While still at Vienna he
received another pressing invitation from the elector of Bavaria to
return to Munich.

Finding that the war with the Turks was at an end, and deciding to
accept the elector's offer, he returned to England for the purpose of
obtaining the king's permission to serve the elector. In granting his
request, George III. conferred on him the title of knighthood.

This soldier of good fortune now entered Bavaria as Sir Benjamin
Thompson, soon to be privy counselor of state to the elector. Only
twelve years had elapsed since he had taught school in small New
England towns, and only fifteen- years since he stood in the streets
of Boston selling fire wood that he had cut with his own hands and
hauled to town. On his arrival in Munich, his energy and enterpr'se
were allowed full scope. He at once began reforms in the army by
improving the arms, clothing and sleeping quarters of the troops. For
the production of supplies he established military workshops, employ-
ing soldiers that had before been idle. The subject of idleness and
pauperism engrossed his attention, and he addressed himself to the
solution of their causes and the remedy. Schools were established in
all the regiments for teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. The
soldiers, their children and the peasants were taught gratuitously. As
a result, ignorant, idle soldiers became intelligent laborers, proud of
their work.

Thompson was the inventor of our modern system of charity
organization. Bavaria was swarming with beggars. He proposed to
make them industrious and self-supporting; to make them happy first
and virtuous afterward. A large building called the House of In-

3S

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

dustry was equipped for spinning and weaving cloth. A series of
halls was fitted up for clothiers, dyers, saddlers, knitters, etc. The
military workshop besides giving labor to the soldiers at good wages
had also paid a revenue to the government. The House of Industry
for the poor proved equally successful.

Thompson says, " The beggars not only infested all the streets and
public places, but they even made a practise of going into private
houses, where they never failed to steal whatever fell in their way.
These detestable vermin swarmed everywhere, and they had recourse to
most diabolical arts and most horrid crimes in the prosecution of their
infamous trade." He had a large building fitted up in the neatest
and most comfortable way. The rooms were clean, warm and well

Royal Institution of Great Britain Founded by Romford.

lighted. Food was served, teachers provided for those who required
instruction, and generous compensation for all labor performed. In
this asylum for the poor and unfortunate, no ill usage or harsh lan-
guage was permitted. On New Year's Day, 1790, 2,600 beggars in
Munich and vicinity were arrested. Thompson made the first arrest
with his own hands; all were treated gently. They were gathered at
the town hall and informed that they must beg no more. They were
promised comfortable rooms, food and remunerative work if they would
labor. His House of Industry and his system of dealing with poverty
accomplished what was intended, and mendicity was subverted in
Munich.

COUNT RUMFORD

39

Rumford Medal of the Royal Society.

His humane and practical methods of suppressing beggary gave
him the title of " The Father of the Indigent." While he was danger-
ously ill, the poor of the city marched in procession to the cathedral
and offered up prayers for his recovery. " Imagine my feelings," said
he, " upon hearing the confused noise of the prayers, of a multitude of
people, passing in the streets, when told that it was the poor of Munich,
hundreds in number, who were going in procession to the church to
put up public prayers for me — for a private person — a stranger — a
protestant."

Thompson's essays on heat and light had been published by the
Royal Society in their " Philosophical Transactions." He had been
made a member of the Berlin Academy, and of several scientific socie-
ties of Bavaria, and later a member of the Institute of France. The
elector advanced him to chamberlain, major general, head of war de-
partment, chancellor of state, and in 1791 conferred on him the title
of Count of the Holy Roman Empire.

Concord, Xew Hampshire, was incorporated in 1734 under the
name of Bum ford, and in choosing his title, Thompson selected the
earlv name of the American town where he had lived.

Rumford Medai. of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

4°

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Portrait at Forty-five Years of Age.

One of the beneficent acts of Count Kumford was that of establish-
ing a public park, called the English Garden. A neglected tract of
forest in the environs of Munich that had been a part of the hunting
grounds of the elector was by him converted into a beautiful park sur-
rounded by a drive six miles in circuit. Its lovely lakes, walks, grottos,
waterfalls and other charming features, are still alluring to a popula-
tion fond of living in the open air. Within the park is a monument to
the memory of its founder, a massive quadrangular structure of free-
stone. On one side is a bas-relief of Count Kumford in alabaster,
below this is the inscription:

To him who rooted out the greatest of public evils,

Idleness and Mendicity, relieved and instructed

the poor, and founded many institutions for

the education of youth.

— Go, Wanderer, and strive to equal him in genius

and activity, and us in gratitude.

COUNT RUM FORD

41

y fafe

/i£^^*^ Hs#t>

*&/■ &*

y /sa?tj

^rtf

£&£ ^

fiu****/./£ ■#&>

''if

~&^? /$£

ctU#»yfrra£. {

Autograph and Seal of Rumford.

On the opposite side is the following:

Rumford, the friend of mankind, by genius,

taste and love inspired, changed

this once desert place into what thou

now beholdest.

His health being impaired, he spent more than a year in Italy, and
then returned to England after an absence of eleven years. On enter-
ing London he met with a terrible loss, which he never ceased to
bemoan. While passing St. Paul's churchyard in the evening, his post-
chaise was stopped and a trunk containing all his private papers was
cut from its fastenings and stolen. He said : " By this cruel robbery,
I have been deprived of the fruits of the labor of my whole life and
have lost all that I hold most valuable."

Rumford's wife had died in 1792 and his daughter, who was an

Profile Portrait. (Bas-relief.)

42 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

infant when he left America, now a young lady, joined him in London
and lived with him for many years.

He was now forty-two years of age, and the main purpose of his
return to England was to publish his essays. Several editions were
subsequently brought out in both Europe and America, and they have
been translated into German, French and Italian. While on this visit
he presented a fund of one thousand pounds to the Eoyal Society, the
interest of which was to be awarded every second year to the author of
the most important discovery in light and heat. The society decided
that the awards should be made in the form of medals, one of gold and
one of silver, which together should contain an intrinsic value equal
to the interest.

Rumford, at the same time, gave $5,000 to the American Academy
of Arts and Sciences, of Boston, to be used in the same way. In 1837
this fund had increased to $20,000. It has now grown to $59,000 and
the annual income is $2,550. Up to 1905, the Rumford premium had
been awarded but twenty times. The academy has, however, made a
great number of grants of money from the fund to assist those who are
making researches in the phenomena of heat and light, and by a deci-
sion of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, a portion of the income
from the fund has been diverted to Harvard University. The Rum-
ford professorship of Harvard will be referred to later.

After remaining a year in England, Rumford, accompanied by his
daughter Sarah, returned to Munich. Here they occupied a palace
supplied with every elegance, convenience and luxury. They were also
permitted to use the princely summer residence of the elector, with
its extensive park and mountain scenery. His daughter was made
countess of the empire and allowed a pension of 2,000 florins for life.

When Napoleon repulsed the Austrians at Friedburg they retreated
towards Munich, followed by the French. The elector, delegating
Rumford with full authority, left the city, taking refuge in Saxony.
Count Rumford at once employed his military talents to meet the
emergency. He took chief command of the Bavarian forces, deter-
mined to prevent both the Austrians and French from entering the
city. The gates were ordered closed and the Austrian forces occupied
the opposite side of the river, where they planted their batteries. By a
show of force, firmness and presence of mind, he was successful in pre-
venting the occupation of the city by a foreign force.

In 1798 he was appointed Bavarian minister to the court of St.
James's. It was a thing quite unprecedented to receive at the English
court a subject of Great Britain as a representative of a foreign country,
and it was one of the great disappointments of his life when informed
that, being a British subject, he could not be received in a diplomatic
capacity. He did not receive information of his ineligibility until
he had arrived in London in company with his daughter.

Rumford's Statue at Munich. Erected by the King.

44

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Bumford had always intended to take np his permanent residence
in the United States, and he now proposed to establish himself near
Cambridge, Mass. He wrote to his friend, Col. Baldwin, to find a de-
sirable property, suitable to his intentions. To encourage his return
to his native country, Bresident John Adams instructed the American
minister at London to write him as follows :

We have made provisions for the institution of a Military Academy, and
I wish to commit its formation to your experience and its future government
to your care. In addition, I am authorized to offer to you the appointment of
Inspector General of Artillery.

Although his plan to return to America originated with himself, he
concluded that his obligations to the Bavarian government were so
great and his relations with the institution, which he was now estab-
lishing, were so important, that they should not now be relinquished.

v :g?5 ••-•-! '-*:«^rS^^.^.-/ ,-.-,_ ,.'./J...- .-■

Memorial erected to Rumford in English Garden.

COUNT BUM FORD

45

View in English Garden.

He had already published a plan for founding a chartered organi-
zation to be known as the Boyal Institution of Great Britain, its
object being the promotion and extension of science and of useful
knowledge, and the application of the same to the common purposes of
life. The movement at once received the support of the learned men
of England; the nobility and the king appeared as patrons.

The charter was granted in January, 1800, and Rumford was ap-
pointed the first manager, to serve three years. He had been living at
his house in Brompton Bow with his daughter, the countess, who now
wished to return to America, and, on her departure, Rumford took up
his residence in the rooms of the Royal Institution. It proved to be a
perfect scientific Elysium for him, being supplied with every imple-
ment for experiment that he could suggest.

The founding of this institution was his crowning work in Eng-
land. It is still a monument to his genius, practical intellectual
activity and to his interest in the diffusion of knowledge. He em-
ployed Humphry Davy, then little known, as the first lecturer. Fara-
day afterwards joined Davy and for thirty-eight years was a lecturer
there. These geniuses received small compensation at the begin-
ning of the'ir careers. The institution allowed Davy 100 guineas a
year and Faraday 25 shillings a week; both were furnished coal,
candles and lodging rooms.

The writer was a visitor at the Royal Institution last }rear and found
it a flourishing organization of great influence. The Duke of North-
umberland is president and Sir William Crookes, secretary. Among
its professors are Lord Rayleigh, Joseph J. Thomson and Sir James
Dewar. The laboratories are splendidly equipped for research work,

46

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Drawing by Rumford, illustrating his Experiment as to Nature of Heat.

involving the provision of the most costly and complicated apparatus.
No institution in the world can boast such a record of original research
and important discoveries as that of the Eoyal Institution for the last
one hundred years. Public lectures by eminent investigators are given
in the lecture room. Weekly meetings are held by the members.
There is a library of 60,000 volumes, and a reading room containing
journals, magazines, etc. Here are preserved the historical apparatus
of Davy, Faraday and others. Some of the models of Eumford's
inventions are to be seen and his portrait, as founder of the institution,
appears as frontispiece of the society's pamphlet.

In 1801 war with France had paralyzed industry in England, and
Eumford interested himself in practical methods for relieving the poor.
On his recommendations, public kitchens were established in all the
great towns of England and Scotland. Sixty thousand people were
fed daily from the public kitchens in London. The same plan for
feeding the poor was adopted in Paris, and the name of Bum ford was
printed on the tickets issued to the poor authorizing them to receive
food. In Geneva the tickets contained Eumford's portrait as well
as his name. He, at this time, wrote to his daughter — " My greatest
delight arises from the silent contemplation of having succeeded in
schemes and labors for the benefit of mankind."

Eumford left England for the last time in May, 1802. His in-
tentions to return were defeated by the obstacles of war, and the next
two years were spent between Paris and Munich, finally making h's
permanent residence in Paris.

He was made a member of the Institute of France, and read more
than a dozen papers before that body on the subjects of light, heat,
combustion, illumination, etc. His lectures before the Academy of
Sciences were beautifully illustrated by drawings of his own execution.
Napoleon granted him the favor, as a distinguished man of science, to

COUNT BUM FORD

47

reside in France and draw his Bavarian and his English pensions,
during the turbulent times of the empire. His reception in Paris
delighted him. Parties were given him daily. The new elector of
Bavaria wished to make him minister of state, but Rumford preferred
to remain in Paris where were centered all that charmed him. His
name was known everywhere, and the elector wrote him congratulating
him on the cordiality extended to him by the French.

He soon married Madame Lavoisier, widow of the illustrious
chemist who had perished, under the guillotine, a victim of the cruel
Robespierre. They lived in rue d'Anjou, in the finest part of Paris.
The salon of Madame Rumford was the last of the eighteenth century.
Lagrange, Laplace, Guizot, Cuvier and Arago were frequent visitors.
But the union of Count and Madame Rumford proved unhappy. Their
characters and temperaments were incompatible, and after some do-
mestic agitation a separation took place.

Rumford now leased a charming villa at Auteuil, which had been
the abode of the celebrated Madame Helvetius, who had made it one
of the chief literary centers of Paris, where our own Franklin was
a favored guest. Two acres of gardens surrounded the house. It is
said that N~apoleon, when at St. Helena, recalled a remark made to

Drawing of Experiment with Gunpowder.

4s

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Tomb of Rumford at Auteuil.

him by Madame Helvetius while a visitor at this house. " Ah, Gen-
eral, if you only knew how to be happy within the bounds of two
acres of earth ! "

Eumford was delighted with his home at Auteuil. His daughter
returned to him from America. He was occupied with scientific and
literary pursuits, often reading papers at the Academy of France and
occasionally making trips to Munich, in the service of Maximilian who
had now been crowned King of Bavaria. Here he continued to live

COUNT BUMFORD 49

happily until seized with a sudden and violent fever. He expired
August 21, 1814, in the sixty-second year of his age.

Baron Cuvier, the count's intimate and confidential friend, per-
petual secretary of the French Institute, delivered the Eloge before his
associates, in which he said : " It is an honor to France that a man who
was held in such high esteem in the two most civilized continents,
should choose France for a final sojourn. Here fuller celebrity is most
surely awarded, regardless of favors of courts or the freaks of fortune."
Here for ten years he had been honored by Frenchmen and by for-
eigners.

As a philosopher and physicist, Rumford ranks among the greatest
of a period that was prolific in scientific research, discovery and inven-
tion. Before he began his investigations, the world was in almost
absolute ignorance regarding the nature of heat. The metaphysical
philosophy of the Greeks regarding the nature of heat, which had
remained undisputed for two thousand years, was by Bumford over-
thrown and the phenomenon established on a mechanical basis. He
disproved the theory of an " igneous fluid," or caloric, and conclusively
proved that heat could not be a material body. He was the first to
point out that energy and heat are mutually convertible, and that both
are forms of motion. He was thus the founder of our modern science
of thermodynamics.

While superintending the boring of brass cannons in the Arsenal
at Munich, his attention was drawn to the great amount of heat ac-
quired by the cannon and the high temperature of the brass chips. He
investigated the source of this heat. A blunt borer was pressed with
great force against the bottom of the bore hole in the cylindrical riser
of a brass cannon. The cannon was rotated nearly a thousand times
and the heat developed was sufficient to raise the whole cylinder, which
weighed 113 pounds, to seventy degrees, while the amount of metal
rubbed off by the borer was only 837 grains. He concluded that the
supply of heat obtained from a given quantity of metal was inex-
haustible, and hence heat could not be a material substance, but must
be " motion."

He had a talent for inventing scientific instruments for making
experiments. He thus invented the photometer, an instrument for
measuring the relative intensity of different lights; the calorimeter,
for measuring the quantity of heat; the thermoscope for indicating
the difference of temperatures. He was an accomplished linguist,
speaking and writing French, German, Italian and English with equal
facility.

Bumford was buried at Auteuil. His monument bears the follow-
ing inscription:

vol. iiXXin. — 4.

5o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

To the Memory of Benjamin Thompson,

Count Rumford.

Born in 1753 at Concord (?) near Boston, in America;

Died the 21st of August 1814, at Auteuil.

A celebrated Physicist.

An enlightened Philanthropist

His discoveries in Light and Heat have made

his name illustrious.

His labors for ameliorating the lot of the

poor, will cause his name to be cherished

forever by the friends of humanity.

— In Bavaria —

Lieutenant General, Chief of State

Major General, Counselor of State

Minister of War.

— In France —

Member of the Institute

Academy of Sciences.

No mention is made of the honors won by him in England.

In front of the government offices, in that great art center, the city
of Munich, is a noble bronze statue of Count Eumford. The figure,
clad in the uniform of a Bavarian general, stands ten feet in height.
It was modeled by Professor Zambush, and erected by the King of
Bavaria at his private expense.

Eumford's income had been a liberal one, but he did not leave
a large estate. He was free with money and spent it profusely
wherever his interests were concerned. Cuvier said : " Eumford
lavished his own money to teach others how to save theirs." Both his
mother and daughter were, by him, supplied with annuities, and at
one time he sent his mother $10,000 to be used as she pleased.

The Count's last will was executed in 1812. Lafayette signed it
as a witness. After providing for his daughter, he bequeathed to
Harvard University an annuity of $1,000, and also made that uni-
versity his residuary legatee. The bequest was for the purpose of
founding a professorship to teach the utility of the physical and
mathematical sciences. The capital sum received by Harvard Uni-
versity from the Eumford estate was $28,395. This has been increased
until the " Eumford Fund " is now $56,441. The professorship was
established in 1816. A fine portrait of Count Eumford hangs in the
room of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, No. 5, University Hall.

In the summer of 1906 the writer made a pilgrimage to the grave of
Eumford. After passing the fine statue of Franklin, in the Place du
Trocodero, the rue Franklin was followed to the rue de Passy, thence
to the rue Mozart, which leads directly to Eumford's house in the
rue d' Auteuil. While ambassador to France, Franklin traversed these
streets many times to visit his friend Madame Helvetius, who then
lived in the house later occupied by Eumford. In his " Dialogue-

COUNT RUM FORD 51

between Franklin and the Gout" Franklin is accused of taking too
little exercise. Gout says : " Behold your fair friend at Auteuil. . . .
When she honors you with a visit, it is on foot. In this see at once
the preservation of her health and personal charms. But when you
go to Auteuil, you must have your carriage, though it is no farther
from Passy to Auteuil than from Auteuil to Passy."

Eumford's house appears to be much as it was one hundred years
ago, although shorn of its two acres of gardens and now with shabby
exterior. The front is enclosed by a high iron fence, with heavy gates
and there still remains a suggestion of shrubbery and flowers. In 1870
this house was the scene of a tragedy in which Prince Pierre Bona-
parte shot and killed Victor Noir, a young journalist, who had pre-
sented a challenge.

Half a mile southward in the Rue Michel Ange is the cemetery of
Auteuil. It is surrounded by a high wall and contains probably more
than half an acre of ground. The graves are much crowded and the
paths narrow. ~No interments are now made there. The tomb of
Count Bumford is near the south wall. The horizontal stone is
perhaps six feet square; the vertical stone of about the same dimen-
sions, and three feet thick. The material appears to be a soft marble,
now so badly weathered that the inscriptions are illegible.

■ "

52 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

HYPOTHESIS OF KADIANT MATTES1

By MORRIS LOEB, Ph.D.

THE enormous literature which has developed from the discovery of
radium and from the study of cognate phenomena has made it
increasingly difficult to form a calm opinion upon the merits of all
the claims which have heen advanced, and upon the validity of the
theories which have been based upon them. Undoubtedly, the great bulk
of the experimental data is exact, although time may show that some
of the experiments which were recorded before the technique was fully
developed may require correction. Without questioning in the slightest
degree the experiments reported by some of the skillful observers of
modern times, one is, nevertheless, permitted to hesitate in adopting
hypotheses that not only subvert formerly accepted ideas, but also
seem, in many cases, inconsistent with one another.

The chemical world has been accused of accepting too dogmatically
the theory of the conservation of matter, the indivisibility of the atom,
etc. Ought we not, then, to guard ourselves against a similar fault in
adopting newer views?

I propose to take up seriatim the methods of reasoning which have
led to the present hypothesis of radiant matter as expressed by its chief
exponents, and to indicate some points which seem to me to be incon-
sistent with older views, or in conflict with one another; and I shall
begin with what may, from the present point of view, be called a static
phenomenon, the behavior of the atom toward light. It is known that
Lorentz modified Maxwell's electro-magnetic theory of light, by assum-
ing that the vibrations from which light-waves originate are not pro-
duced by the atom as a whole, but rather by the vibration of its positive
or negative electric charge, conceived as a special entity, which we may
now personify, as it were, by the more recently coined name electron.
The electron vibrates in an elliptical path which is really the result of
two circular oscillations in opposite directions, and of differing ampli-
tudes, but of identical period. An alteration of the radii of these cir-
cles would merely alter the shape of the ellipse; but if the periods of
the two circular motions were made to differ, no single resultant could
appear, for the two vibrations would produce waves of different length,
i. e., light rays of different refrangibility. Now, a magnetic strain

1 Extracts from a review presented to the New York Section of the Amer-
ican Chemical Society at its meetings, November, 1907.

HYPOTHESIS OF RADIANT MATTER 53

ought to exert some influence on an electron ; if it accelerated its dextro-
gyratory motion, it would retard its lsevo-gyration, or vice versa. This
is precisely what Zeeman found when he examined the emission-spectra
of vapors that were placed in an electro-magnetic field ; single lines are
broken up into two or more finer lines, placed symmetrically with regard
to the position of the original one. Eighi has generalized the reasoning
so that it covers practically every relation between the vibrating electron
and the external magnetic strain to which it is subjected, and reaches
two conclusions : First, the vibrating electron is electro-negative ; second,
the ratio e/m, i. e., electric charge over mass, is about 1,000 times as
great as the ratio between the electric charge and mass of the hydrogen
ion. Assuming, perhaps arbitrarily, that the electric charge is the
same, the mass of the electron is about 1/1,000 that of the hydrogen
ion; it can be no mere coincidence that Thomson, Kaufmann and
others arrive at virtually the same figure for the mass of the corpuscles
which carry the negative charges in ionized gases of whatever chemical
constitution; in fact, everybody recognizes their identity.

To quote Eighi, the neutral chemical atom (as distinguished from
the ion) consists of a central mass of positive charge, around which
revolve as satellites one or more electro-negative corpuscles, retained
in their orbits by some centripetal force.

In connection with this definition, the following points seem to
require emphasis : the number of electrons per atom are few, practically
corresponding to the valency; this seems to be corroborated by recent
experiments of Becquerel on the phosphorescence of uranium minerals
at low temperatures, which likewise point out that light-emission is not
always confined to the negative corpuscle, as Eighi would have it. The
total mass of the free electrons in an atom is not sufficient to affect
the ratio between specific heats for constant pressure and constant
volume of monatomic vapors, like mercury and cadmium ; their velocity
in their orbits does not approach that of light, and they have no high
momentum retained by comparatively powerful internal attractions.
These electrons can not be identical with the X-particles which are pro-
jected with terrific force from the uranium, radium and other atoms,
according to Eutherford and his followers.

I need only touch briefly on the electric discharges in vacuum tubes :
it is generally accepted that we distinguish Lenard or cathode rays,
which are negative, and positive Goldstein or canal rays within the
tube. They can be deflected by electric or magnetic fields, they produce
mechanical and heating effects, cast visible shadows, etc., and they
behave in general like streams of actual particles charged with elec-
tricity. When the cathode ray strikes an impenetrable obstacle, like
glass, the X-rays are produced as a secondary effect : these do not behave
as if conveyed by neutral particles; have vast penetrating power; con-
tain no electric charge, as they are not influenced by magnetic or elec-

54 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

trie fields, and are neither refracted nor reflected. I would emphasize,
however, their ability to discharge an electrometer, as well as to influ-
ence the photographic plate. Their peculiarities have been recently-
ascribed to the fact that they represented aperiodic impulses given to
the luminiferous ether — which conveys no meaning to my mind, except-
ing that they can not be explained by the modulatory theory. The
velocity of the canal rays has been determined, and the mass of their
hypothetical particles measured by the amount of their deflection in
magnetic fields of varying strength; both values approximate those
found for the ordinary chemical atoms or molecules ; in the case of the
negative cathode rays, however, the velocities and mass correspond
to those assumed for the electrons. I confess to a serious difficulty in
harmonizing the notion of a corpuscular structure of the atoms with
the explanation given by the same school for the need of high vacua
for the production of cathode rays. It is said that the electrons must
have a considerable free path in order that they may travel with undi-
minished velocity toward the anode : but if the atoms, instead of being
compact elastic bodies, be mere nebulas of electrons, the relation of
whose sizes and interstices is comparable to that of the molecules in a
normal gas, it follows that a free electron, hurled vehemently forward
from the cathode, could pass quite through a number of atoms without
collision with any of their constituent corpuscles; the free path of the
electron is so enormous, on this hypothesis, that the order of its mag-
nitude could not be materially affected by the degree of rarefaction of
the gas customary in the Crookes tube.

We must recollect, however, that the hypothesis, first elaborated by
Larmor, that the electrons are the primordial constituents of the atoms,
does not, like that of Prout, simply extend the limits of the divisibility
of matter. The electron is not to be considered as a small speck of
matter at all, but as a permanent manifestation of energy concentrated
on a minute portion of the luminiferous ether. This view and the
explanation of many phenomena on such a basis has been acclaimed as
the triumph of energetics, the final elimination of the conception of
matter. An unbiased reading of J. J. Thomson's Yale lectures, how-
ever, will impress anybody that he decidedly materializes both energy
and ether. Perhaps much of this materialization is purely symbolic,
to bring his mathematical reasoning within the comprehension of his
audience ; but to me it seems that an electric charge which has quantity,
mass, inertia, elasticity and expansibility, which obeys the laws of
hydrostatics, and virtually has a surface beyond which it can only
produce effects by the medium of mysterious lines of force, has a mar-
velous resemblance to the picture which the ordinary chemist's mind
would form of material substance. His ether is not only that puzzling
paradox, at once impalpable and inconceivably dense, rigid and fric-
tionless, which we have accepted as the whole means of explaining the

HYPOTHESIS OF RADIANT MATTER 55

transmission of motion through a vacuum ; to extend its importance as
the substratum of all phenomena it must become heterogeneous and
capable of deformation; to form a neutral atom, some of it must
become a spherical jelly in which other parts of itself are imbedded as
rigid particles. It has, consequently, different degrees of hardness, and
is subject to internal attractions. Thomson even volunteers the admis-
sion that, for the explanation of certain phenomena, his ether must
have structure, or, at least, be stratified.

This can, of course, be no insinuation against the work of some of
the greatest living physicists and mathematicians : accepting their
premises, I do not doubt that they have drawn the consequences in the
most rigid fashion. I do assert, however, that some of their funda-
mental terms are used in a different sense from that to which we are
accustomed, and that we are, therefore, entitled to doubt whether the
conclusions which they reach really affect the jmenomena with which
the chemist deals : as if one were to discuss the crystallographic struc-
ture of Pentelian marble with reference to the architecture of the
Parthenon.

A few examples, pertinent to our inquiry, will more precisely estab-
lish my meaning. One of the fundamental postulates of Professor
Thomson's mathematical argument is the definition of momentum as
the product of mass by velocity. Although this is not axiomatic, we
accept it as such by reason of the many ballistic experiments which
have proved its truth, so long as the projectile's mass was assumed to
remain constant : we should hesitate if we were told that mass was to
vary, i. e., that a bullet which weighs the same before and after the
shot, was heavier during its flight. But the momentum of Thomson's
electrons increases faster than their velocity, when the latter approaches
that of light; hence, he says, the mass of the electrons increases with
their swiftness. True, he calls it an electro-magnetic mass, but some
of his followers have forgotten the distinction. At all events, his terms
momentum and mass must not be accepted by us in their usual meaning.

It is perfectly true that Thomson's calculations are corroborated by
Kaufmann's experiments on the velocity of radium rays in combined
electric and magnetic fields, if the latter's data are calculated according
to Thomson's views; without even seeking a radically different basis —
which would not be difficult — we can follow Thomson to a point where
his departure from ordinary assumptions becomes evident. He shows
that the value e/m diminishes at high velocities and then he assumes
that e, the electro-static charge, is constant; therefore m, the mass,
varies. Now, the value of e is derived from Faraday's law, which
would never have been announced if Faraday had not dealt with the
equivalent weights as fixed mathematical quantities. In fact, just so
far as Thomson substantializes electricity by giving it atomic structure,
with invariable mass, the chemical atom becomes wavy and matter

56 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

evanesces into the ghost-like form which energy has assumed in the
chemical mind. If our scientific terms are, as it were, to receive the
reciprocals of their present significance — progress may ultimately result,
but we should enter into topsy-turvydom with our eyes open.

The electron theory possesses the merit of furnishing a working
hypothesis upon which to coordinate the various electrical phenomena
of vacuum tube and radio-active origin: chief among which is the
increased conductivity of gases. Either direct current measurement
or the more sensitive electrometer, determinative of the decrease of
electro-static potential, indicates that gases begin to conduct electricity
when affected by ultra-violet light, by cathode and X-rays, by radium,
thorium, etc. Ingenious experiments have proved that portions of the
gas are positively, others negatively, charged; that they behave as if
ionized ; the numbers, masses and charges of the hypothetical ions have
been measured and found to agree with the assumption that the nega-
tive ions have the magnitude of the electrons, the positive ions that
of the regular molecules, i. e., the negative ions are always very small
and mobile, with the same value for all gases; the positive ions are,
at least, 1,000 times as large, and vary for different gases. If the gas
moves away from the locality of ionizing influence, its conductivity
disappears gradually at a rate to suggest reunion of the ions. Plaus-
ible, if not quite conclusive, reasoning connects the ionization hypoth-
esis with the novel phenomenon of the saturation constant; viz., the
fact that the flow of electricity through a conducting gas increases
proportionately to the voltage between the electrodes up to a maximum,
when further increase of potential has practically no effect on the cur-
rent. This saturation current, it may be remarked, is used to char-
acterize radio-activity; it is admittedly a complex phenomenon, and I
should be inclined to lay more stress upon the qualitative than the
precise quantitative results obtained in a number of recent experiments.

Those who, like Armstrong, oppose the electrolytic dissociation
hypothesis of Arrhenius, naturally attack the ionization hypothesis with
still greater vehemence, and I believe that this will be the battleground
of opposing theories for some time to come. As the phenomenon is
distinctly a secondary reaction, from our point of view, we need not
discuss it in its various aspects, beyond noting that even without
detectable radio-active agencies the atmospheric air conducts electricity
to a slight extent, varying with location, as well as with the hours of
the day.

The radiations from the active chemical substances present a very
complex aspect; besides light and heat, radium and its congeners send
out a, p and y rays, respectively electro-positive, electro-negative and
neutral when tested in electric and magnetic fields.

From radium a rays are sent out about four times as abundantly
as /? rays, the y variety being relatively few. a rays are electro-positive,

HYPOTHESIS OF RADIANT MATTER 57

have a speed one tenth of the velocity of light, and a molecular mass
of atomic magnitude. They penetrate a few centimeters into air, pass
through thin aluminum foil but are stopped by denser metals. As they
are but slightly deviable in a magnetic field, their momentum is calcu-
lated to be enormous : until, however, better evidence of the total positive
charge which they carry has been obtained, we can not consider the
magnitude of the momentum as definitely established; especially since
their speed does not appear to be uniform. From experiments wherein
a particles are allowed to escape freely, and again restrained by a lead
cylinder surrounding radium, much of the apparent heat of the latter
body appears to be due to the impinging of the a rays upon the sur-
rounding surfaces.

/?-Bays are similar to cathode rays ; they are less absorbable than the
a variety, and proceed at various speed, many approaching the velocity
of light; they are stopped by solids in proportion to their density.

y-Eays are similar to X-rays, of great penetrating power, and they
are thought by some to be secondary effects of a and (3 rays, just as the
X-rays originate from the impact of cathode rays on the glass wall of
the Crookes tube. Besides, we have a multitude of conflicting accounts
of secondary tertiary rays, resulting from these three varieties.

The chief method of research is the study of ionization, with the
interposition of screens and magnetic fields, to separate the different
kinds of rays. On the other hand, the varieties of rays emitted, their
relative strength, and their variations of intensity, are the character-
istics upon which the identification of the various so-called transforma-
tion-products of radio-active material is based. I have, therefore,
copied from Professor Butherford's book2 tabulations of these properties.

With regard to these various transformations, we should realize that
the majority of the names are titles of hypothetical substance, whose
existence within certain mixtures is assumed upon the evidence of their
momentary radio-activity. The only one really isolated is that emana-
tion which has all the properties of a gas, including that of condensi-
bility at low temperatures — with the exception that its liquid form
shows no vapor pressure — but has in addition remarkable energy effects,
and has, undoubtedly, undergone transformation in Eamsay's hands.
Bearing in mind the infinitesimal quantities of emanation which Earn-
say and his associates could obtain, we are alike astounded by their
marvelous manipulative dexterity and by the nature of their observa-
tions. First we had the gradual appearance of helium, when the ema-
nation was stored by itself; then came the appearance of neon, when
the emanation came into contact with water, the latter being partially
decomposed into oxygen and hydrogen; lastly the partial reduction of
copper nitrate solution, with the simultaneous appearance of lithium,

2 " Radio-activity," 1905.

53

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Transformation Products of Thorium, Actinium and Radium according to

Rutherford

Produc

Time to be half transformed

Radiations

Thorium

a rays

i
Th. X

1
Emanation

4 days
54 seconds

a rays
a rays

1

Thorium A

i
Thorium B

11 hours i
55 minutes -

#>

o
<

o

Oh
CD

no rays

a, 3, y rays

i

?

Actinium
Actinium X
Emanation
Actinium A
Actinium B

?

10.2 days
3.9 seconds

35.7 minutes
2.15 minutes

no rays
a (j3 and y)
n rays
no rays

a, 3 and y

Radium
i

1,200 years

a rays

Emanation

3.8 days

a rays

i
Radium A "

<4H

o

3 minutes

a rays

I

Radium B

I

Radium C^

■2 W>

35 c
o a

•a

•■a J

-<

21 minutes
28 minutes

no rays
a, 3, y rays

I

Radium D^

i
Radium E

i
Radium F.,
?

5,1

> -2
'■§53

«<"8

about 40 years
6 days
143 days

no rays

/3 (and y) rays

a rays

while the emanation underwent a change into argon. The lithium, we
are assured, could not be found in the original materials ; it represents
about .01 per cent, of the sodium and calcium found in the same experi-
ment ; its actual amount, after correcting a slight oversight in Eamsay's
estimate, would be 0.00000003 gram. For such a quantity the amount
of copper transformed would be too minute for the detection of a loss
from the 0.3 gram of copper which the original solution may be assumed

HYPOTHESIS OF RADIANT MATTER 59

to have contained: but, until a loss of copper be ascertained, to corre-
spond with the gain in lithium, it appears to me that the assumption
of transformation is premature. Kamsay found that this solution con-
tained in all 1.67 mg. alkaline chlorides, chiefly sodium chloride; while
0.79 mg. were produced in a blank experiment, when the emanation
was excluded. While this latter amount is admittedly derived from the
glass bulb, the excess obtained in the presence of emanation is ascribed
to the degradation of the copper, neglecting the fact that this second
solution must have been fairly acid and would, therefore, have attacked
the glass more vigorously. Accepting his suggestion, however, the
deficit of copper ought to approach 0.8 mg., an amount which ordinary
analysis can detect. We may, therefore, hope that further experiments
by Professor Eamsay will throw light upon this side of the subject.

Of Eamsay's present conclusion, the following resume may be given :
Emanation is a gas of about atomic weight 216.5, derived from radium,
of atomic weight 225, simultaneously with a-particles which are not
helium. When emanation and the a-particles are shut up together, the
bombardment of the latter breaks up the emanation into helium ; but if
heavier molecules, like water, be present, they receive some of the
bombardment, and the emanation is only degraded into neon; the
pressure of copper nitrate still further protecting the emanation, so that
it only breaks clown to argon. This kinetic explanation is not im-
peccable; for, according to the principles of mass-action, the prepon-
derance of water molecules in the copper nitrate solution, as well as the
predominance of hydrogen and oxygen in its decomposition products,
would imply the presence of considerable amounts of neon to accom-
jDany the argon. As neon is said to be absent, we must either seek for
some other hypothesis or explain how the neon reverts to argon after
it is once formed.

Eamsay's views contradict those of Eutherford and others, who seek
to identify helium with the a-rays, and the latter would thereby lose a
good deal of their substantive character. Furthermore, it is to be
noted that the a-particles bear positive charges : if they were merely
chemical atoms, such a charge might possibly be obtained as they tore
themselves loose from the larger complex, during radiation; but if
they be non-substantive masses of free energy, it will be difficult to
reconcile the various assumed transformations with the electro-chemical
properties, valencies, etc., of the elements in question.

It must be recalled that Eutherford does assume that the successive
transformations of radium, for instance, are effected by the expulsions
of the a-particles and that these have atomic mass : an atom of radium,
therefore, contains a finite number of them. As the transformations
are atomic and not molecular, Eutherford's application of the mathe-
matics of mass-action can mean but one thing: that the various rates
of transformation depend upon the chances of encounter and relative

6o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

positions of the particles within the atom. These rates, however, as
measured by the period of decay, vary from thousands of years to a
few seconds for the different educts, and that irregularly in the order
of transformation — such great differences could only be explained by
an infinite number of components, with large free paths, electrons, in
other words. It would then remain to be shown what caused a certain
great number of negative electrons to form an electro-positive a-particle,
and become expelled with great violence from their surroundings.

Natural^, the failure of a hypothesis to explain certain facts does
not invalidate the latter. Eutherford's brilliant analysis of the curves
of increasing and decreasing ionization and the agreement observed
with calculated results prove that he is not dealing with mere fortuitous
coincidences. Many of his conclusions seem incontrovertible upon his
premises; but here again, the advocatus diaboli must step in and ask
whether the premises are axiomatic: two of them appear to me to be
doubtful. (1) A curve of decay is based on electroscopic measurements
upon the tacit assumption that the rays sent out by that particular
phase are always the same ; but we are told that both a and /? rays vary
greatly in speed and momentum, hence neither variety would show a
uniform ionizing power ; assuming that a substance did send out a rays
for a long time, but that their velocities were gradually reduced, would
not the ionization indicate a more rapid decay than was really the case ?
(2) It is practically assumed throughout that ionization is directly pro-
portioned to the amount of radio-active material present: but this
remains to be proven. Where layers of any density are involved, we
know that it is not true, owing to internal absorption, etc. ; for ideally
thin layers, weighing and other measurement are out of the question.

I do not think that this latter objection ought to be dismissed
lightly, when we find such a phenomenon as the almost universal ioniza-
tion of the atmosphere ascribed to the presence of radium or its educts.
Thomson himself has shown a variety of ways for ionizing air, when
any variation in the amount of radium present — or, rather, absent — is
out of the question ; some of these serve particularly well to explain the
phenomena in the open air. Eecently, indeed, quite a number of inves-
tigators have observed diurnal variations in this atmospheric ionization,
sufficiently marked to require some other explanation than the produc-
tion of emanations from the earth or surrounding materials. Gustave
Le Bon, in his " Evolution de la Matiere," shows how the gold-leaf elec-
troscope is discharged when connected with some very dry sulphate of
quinine, which is taking up hygroscopic moisture. Are we ready, with
him, to assume that the quinine is catalyzing some atoms into nirvana,
or that the electroscope may indicate many changes that are not intra-
atomic ?

NEW PHILOSOPHY CALLED PRAGMATISM 61

THE NEW PHILOSOPHY CALLED PRAGMATISM

By Professor H. HEATH BAWDEN

UNIVERSITY OF CINCINNATI

PRAGMATISM is a recent movement of thought which is seeking
to do justice to the neglected claims of common sense, of religious
faith and of science, in determining a true philosophy of life. It isj
as Professor James says, simply a new name for some old ways oi
thinking, yet in its scope and depth of significance it promises to rank
among the important and characteristic products of our Anglo-Saxon
civilization.

Pragmatism originated as a logical principle of method, first formu-
lated by Mr. Charles Peirce in 1878 in an article published in The
Popular Science Monthly. Twenty years later, Professor James,
in an address before the Philosophical Club of the University of Cali-
fornia, brought Peirce's principle to the attention of the philosophical
world, since which time those sympathetic with the general point of
view have been rallying about it as an organizing center.

At the present time pragmatism is connected with the names of
three men, in this country and in England, each being associated with
a distinct phase of the movement. Professor William Jantes, of Har-
vard University, emphasizes the practical meaning of philosophy for
every-day life. Mr. F. C. S. Schiller, of Oxford University, England,
defends the rights of religious faith and feeling in determining our
beliefs. Professor John Dewey,, of Columbia University, is the cham-
pion of a scientific empirical method in philosophy. Professor James
uses the words pragmatism and radical empiricism to describe his
point of view. Mr. Schiller prefers the term humanism and his philos-
ophy has much in common with what in other quarters has come to be
called personalism. Professor Dewey's method is quite generally
known as instrumentalism, but in a recent article is described by Pro-
fessor Dewey himself as immediate empiricism.

These three leading exponents of pragmatism may be regarded as
meeting the objections urged, respectively, by the man of affairs, by the
mystical religious man, and by the man of science.

The man of affairs has objected to philosophy in the past on the
ground of its being abstruse and theoretical, impractical and dreary.
He is unable to convert the speculations of the metaphysician into
market values, on the one hand — it doesn't " bake any bread " — while,
on the other hand, it unsettles his faith in the spiritual verities — " God,

62 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

freedom and immortality " — belief in which he regards as essential to
his peace of mind.

The answer which pragmatism makes to this objection of common
sense is to admit its main contention. Concrete experience must, in
the last analysis, be the test of the truth of ideas, and philosophy in
the past has been out of touch with the interests of practical life. As
Mr. Peirce and Professor James put it, there is no difference which
does not make a difference. The test of theories must be found in
practise. The pragmatic philosophy is a renewed emphasis of this
truth. It is a philosophy of doing, and of knowing, only in relation to
doing. It is a philosophy of work, of activity, of enterprise, of achieve-
ment. And for this reason it has taken up arms against all forms of
transcendentalism and absolutism and dogmatism and apriorism in so
far as these stand for intellectual interests which do not grow out of or
minister to the needs of life.

But the pragmatic philosophy has one trenchent criticism to make
on the attitude of the man of affairs — he stands in his own light, stands
so close to his practise that he loses perspective, holding a nominal
theory which does not correspond with the real theory of his practise.
His attitude is essentially uncritical and primitive — naive, total, im-
plicit, rather than reflective, discriminating and definitive. In becom-
ing practical, philosophy deals common sense a severe blow by showing
its inconsistency and the' narrowness and vulgarity, often, of its empir-
icism— for, after all, theories, while not action in an overt sense, are
yet themselves just refined forms of adjustment in a complicated
environment.

Another type of person, impressed deeply by the so-called spiritual
things of life, by the values as opposed to the facts, believes that the
realities which are of most worth are apprehended through the feelings
and by faith rather than by purely logical processes, and objects to
imilosophy on the score of its being artificial and arbitrary, substituting
formulas for vital experience and abstract propositions for warm con-
crete appreciations of things. This is the essentially mystical attitude
which includes, not only the religionist, but the artist and many others
who distrust the purely intellectualist way of looking at the universe.

Here, again, pragmatism admits the main contention of the objector.
Philosophy too often, as Mr. Bradley says, is the finding of bad reasons
for what we believe upon instinct, and a substitution of abstract imper-
sonal laws for the living personal values of immediate experience.
And this new philosophy called pragmatism is trying to so reconstruct
the intellectual machinery as to meet the needs of this deeper emotional
and volitional nature of man. In so far as pragmatism emphasizes the
personal as opposed to the purely formal conditions of thinking, it may
be described as mystical in the legitimate and good sense of the word.

This is the core of the humanism of Mr. Schiller. Faith underlies

NEW PHILOSOPHY CALLED PRAGMATISM 63

the hypothesis of scientific method as truly as the act of obedience in
religion — not, however, in the sense of the child Mr. Schiller quotes,
who says that faith is believing what you know isn't true, but in the
sense rather of a legitimate speculation where all the factors are uncer-
tain, in the sense of a prudent gambling or betting on your partial
knowledge. If faith lies at the basis of our credit system in business
and is the only sanction of the inductive leap in scientific generaliza-
tion, why should it not be legitimate to take the risk of there being a
God or a future life ? For all we know, the wish and the will to believe
may be a factor in determining the reality — as he who thinketh his
friend to be true maketh him true.

Pragmatism, in this respect, is a protest against the cold intel-
lectualism of the philosophy and science of the age. In mastering the
means of living we have forgotten the ends of life. We confuse money
with wealth, the church with religion, politics with government, the
school with education, leisure with culture. But he fails in the having
who spendeth his days in the getting. The values of life, as Hume
long since taught us, lie in the alogical forces of the soul. Eeason and
the ratiocinative processes find their only justification in serving at once
to satisfy and to modify the feelings and desires which underlie all
other aspects of personality.

But still a third objection is frequently raised to philosophy by the
man of science, and the pragmatic reply to this is contained in the new
instrumental or functional theory of knowledge of Professor Dewey and
his school. The man of science criticizes philosophy for being too
theoretical in the sense of speculative. " not sticking to the facts." The
metaphysician is prone, he says, to spin a universe out of his own inner
consciousness, and tries to make the facts fit this ideal system. Once
again, pragmatism meets the objector by admitting the force of his
objection so far as past systems of philosophy are concerned, and seeks
to win the cooperation of the scientist in constructing a philosophy
which will be scientific in its method.

But the pragmatist reminds the man of science that he is not free
from speculation in his own enterprise, that indeed hypothesis is one
of the leading instruments of scientific research, while his whole pro-
cedure is shot through and through with metaphysical presuppositions
which are the more prejudicial because unsuspected. The aim of a
pragmatic philosophy is to bring metaphysical speculation to the test
of scientific exactness, on the one hand, and, on the other, to help the
scientist to bring to clear self-consciousness his own logical assump-
tions. This involves, not only a new conception of philosophy, but a
new conception of science in relation to philosophy.

The wings of metaphysical speculation are clipped, but philosophy
no longer is relegated to the left-overs. Its subject-matter as ordinarily
conceived is the methodological scrap-heap of the scientist. All the

64 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

residual problems which science shoves aside as unimportant or irrele-
vant are turned over to philosophy, which, as the various sciences suc-
cessively split off from the parent-stem, has to be satisfied with the
vague chaos of general opinions which have not yet come under scien-
tific scrutiny. On such a view philosophy, of course, never can hope to
occupy a position of dignity in the intellectual world, for as soon as
the human intellect takes up seriously one of these remaining problems
and subjects it to careful experimental study, it ceases to be called
philosophy and is scored to the credit of science. The result is that
the field of philosophy becomes more and more restricted until finally
science occupies the whole field and philosophy has only a historical
significance.

The name, to be sure, is unimportant — whether it be called phi-
losophy or science — but the fact is that as science gradually encroaches
upon the field of the so-called philosophical subject-matter, her method
has been becoming more and more philosophic : that is to say, with the
progress of science it becomes increasingly necessary to go beyond the
confines of any particular science in order to explain any one of its
facts. Hence the appearance of the hyphen-sciences and of the com-
parative method, which have grown up in the interstices between the
sciences as formerly classified. Now, in so far as an explanatory law
extends beyond the province of the particular science, it is what, in
the history of thought, has been called a philosophical principle, and
inasmuch as science to-day is increasingly comparative in its method,
it follows that it is becoming increasingly philosophic. Instead of
philosophy being condemned to the unclassified residuum, it is becom-
ing the very methodology of science. Each scientist is perforce becom-
ing philosophic in order to understand the implications of his own
procedure. It behooves the man of science to realize this, and it
behooves the old-fashioned metaphysician, who supposes that his method
is distinct from that of science, to realize that the only fruitful philoso-
jDhizing that is going on at the present time is at the hands of the
philosophic scientists and the scientific philosophers.

One of the main contributions to this new conception of the relation
of philosophy to science is contained in the instrumentalism of Pro-
fessor Dewey. The main contention of this theory is that ideas are
instrumental to action : they are secondary, derived from action, and
they are teleological, dynamogenic, point forward to action; or, in so
far as they win a permanent place for themselves as ideas, it is because
they are more delicate types of action-systems. The reflective or
mediating modes of experience are instrumental to the immediate forms
of feeling and conduct.

It follows that the formal logic which was elaborated out of rela-
tion to the emotional and volitional needs of life, and is consequently
correct only in so far as it remains abstract, and valid only in as much

NEW PHILOSOPHY CALLED PPAGMATISM 65

as it refers to nothing in particular in the world of concrete values — it
follows that this logic will not meet the requirements of a scientific
method which is seeking to explain the actual world of phenomena
conditioned by human interests and purposes.

Instrumentalism, in other words, is an attempt at once to make
philosophy scientific and science philosophic, and pragmatism means
instrumentalism in this sense. In seeking to work out this relation
in detail, pragmatism has become a general theory of experience, and,
interpreted in terms of existing schools of thought, may be described
as presenting both an empiricistic and an idealistic phase of its
methodology.

In the first place, pragmatism is empiricistic. If philosophy is to
be practical and personal and instrumental it must begin with concrete
experience, not with an assumed reality beyond nor with an abstracted
aspect. It must begin with the full tide of life as we live it and try
to understand it from within, not seek to leap out of experience to
some transcendental vantage-ground from which the procession might
be watched from without. Nor will philosophy begin with such partial
aspects as mind and matter nor with such terminal problems as origin
and destiny, but will endeavor by a patient study of the way in which
experience goes on in the present moment of consciousness to construct
the law of the process by which it goes on in other moments. This is
the empircal principle of pragmatism. As Professor Dewey puts it,
Reality is what it is experienced as. Or as Hegel long since phrased
it, " the laws of thought are the laws of things."

This empirical point of view has several important implications.
It implies, for one thing, that the distinction between experience and
reality is not an absolute one, not an ontological distinction, as the
metaphysicians say, but only a methodological or functional one. It
no more represents a distinctness in existence than does the distinction
of the how and the what of anything, or the distinction of process and
content. Experience regarded from the point of view of what it is, its
content, its filling of objects and events, we call reality. Reality,
regarded from the point of view of hoiv it goes on or the way in which
it occurs in consciousness, that is, viewed as a process of evolution
here and now, we call experience. A moment of consciousness is a
sample of how reality evolves. An object in space or an event in time
is a sample of the content of this evolving process. Reality viewed in
longitudinal section as a process gives us what we call experience.
Experience taken in cross-section yields a content which we call reality.

In the second place, mind or consciousness is what it seems to be — a
transformation-phase of experience, not a separate entity. The dis-
tinction of mind and body and their alleged disparateness and supposed
parallelism is a pseudo-problem created by the methodological inutil-

VOL. LXXIII. — 5.

66 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ities of a prejudiced metaphysics. Just as the hypostatizing of the
distinction of reality and experience gave rise to the tedious detour
of the epistemological problem, so the erection of the practical distinc-
tion between the psychical and the physical into an ontological chasm
has produced the paradox of mind and matter in metaphysics. Aris-
totle's doctrine of entelechy was nearer the truth, which sought to
define what a thing is in terms of what it does, in terms of its behavior
and functions, and in terms of how it came to be what it is, its genesis
and growth. Consciousness, the mind, the soul, is to be defined as a
physical object is defined in science : a molecule or an atom is defined in
modern physics as the sum of its attributes, the synthesis of the rela-
tions in which it stands. Consciousness no longer may be regarded as
an entity, nor as the attribute of epiphenomenal manifestation of an
entity; it must be defined, as everything else in modern science, as a
relation or system of relationships. Eeality, Lotze said, means stand-
ing-in-relations, a thing is where it acts, being is doing. If this is true,
then consciousness is what it seems to be — a transition phase of the
contents of experience under certain conditions in which they are under-
going reconstruction into something else. It is not a different kind of
reality nor a permanent parallel aspect of material existence, but a
mode of experience in the phase of metamorphosis into further ex-
perience.

A third implication of this pragmatic empiricism concerns our rela-
tion to the making of reality. There is a sense in which reality is
given and a sense in which it is made. As Mr. Schiller says, you may
" find yourself in love " or you may " make love." You may wish for
a chair and find one or have one given to you, or you may wish for a
chair and invent one, make one. Is reality discovered or created by
knowledge? Are the objects which form the content of experience
revealed or constituted by consciousness? This is one of the age-old
problems of philosophy which have divided thinkers into transcendent-
alists and empiricists, nativists and evolutionists. Taking the two
terms of the distinction abstractly, it seems that in the final analysis
something must be absolutely given, on the one hand, yet, on the other,
that something is absolutely created. It appears that there is nothing
new under the sun, and yet that everything changes. If all is given,
then the apparent progress and freshness of our feelings is an illusion,
and if any single part of experience is absolutely given, the whole must
be given, as the absolute idealists have been logical enough to see. On
the other hand, if all is created, what is to save us from solipsism?
The answer is, that neither term of the distinction is to be taken
abstractly. Given means taken as given for the situation, while made
or created means produced anew relative to some interest or need, not
created ex nihilo. Our givings and takings, our acquiescences and
imperatives, are not ultimate and abstract, but relative in the sense of

NE]Y PHILOSOPHY CALLED PRAGMATISM 67

relevant to the proximate needs of concrete issues. Taken abstractly,
these complementary principles have significance only as limiting con-
cepts, like the infinite and the infinitesimal in mathematics; they are
signs of operations to be performed, not absolute realities blocking
progress. There is no experience in general or in the abstract, no
absolute experience; experience is always in specific centers of concrete
interest and value. Hence questions of the absolute origin or absolute
givenness of reality are unintelligible because irrelevant. We partici-
pate in the evolution of reality by every moment of conscious expe-
rience. The truth hasn't all happened yet, as Professor James says.
Kant was right in a sense when he said that the understanding creates
the world. But it is equally true that for any particular individual
and for any particular moment of conscious experience, the high-lights
of attentional consciousness are set over against a background of what,
for the situation, must be taken as given — and this is the truth the
metaphysical realists have built into a wall of separation between a
subjective and an objective world.

These are some of the implications of the pragmatic philosophy as
a doctrine of empiricism. But we maintained that it likewise repre-
sents a form of idealism, and that this is not only consistent with, but
absolutely indispensable to the integrity of the empirical side of its
method.

The pragmatic philosophy, by virtue of the fact that it purports to
be a philosophy, is a form of idealism. All philosophies are idealistic
in the deepest sense of the word — they are simply developed ideas of
the universe. Pragmatic idealism is only a closer-knit synthesis of
practise and theory than other forms of philosophy. If we define
idealism as any philosophy which finds the key to the nature of reality
in ideas, then pragmatism is a form of idealism, since it is itself a
theory, an idea, a conception, a philosophy of experience. There is no
necessary antagonism between pragmatism and idealism, since there
is no necessary conflict between practise and theory. Pragmatism is
not opposed to theory, but only to bad theory ; it is not opposed to ideas,
but only to ideas that do not work in practise; it is not opposed to
ideals, but only to ideals that do not stand in organic relation to life.

The idealistic phase of pragmatism is to be found in its theory of
knowledge, in its doctrine of the relation of ideas to action. Thinking,
it holds, is action in process of transformation into more adequate
action; the pragmatic philosophy is only human action or practise
passing into the idea or theory phase for the sake of evolving a more
adequate practise. Whether pragmatism is idealistic in either of the
other two historically important senses of the word, which hold respect-
ively that ultimate reality is mental (metaphysical idealism) and that
the objective world has no existence independent of a knowing subject
(epistemological idealism), is easily answered: it is not. These forms

68 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of idealism, as Mr. Schiller and Professor James and Professor Dewey
in their different ways have shown us, are simply methodological cir-
cumlocutions produced by the interposition of false issues by an aprior-
istic preconception.

As long as men stop their practise now and again to think, they
will be idealists. As long as the process of experience is more than
a mere blind rule-of-thumb accidental fumbling or slow learning by
the method of trial and error, as long as human progress takes place
by experiment and invention as well as by repetition and imitation, the
philosophy of experience must in the deepest sense of the word be
idealistic. Ideas are not copies of realities beyond experience, but are
certain contents which, because of their inadequacy, are undergoing
revision in that mode of consciousness which we call knowledge : and
consciousness and cognition are simply names for reality when thus
undergoing reorganization from within. Ideas, as Professor Dewey
says, looked at negatively and in relation to the practise which is break-
ing down, are simply facts which have come under suspicion. Thus
we say that the sun-going-around-the-earth is a mere idea because it
has become doubted: we call it an illusion. Looked at positively, in
relation to further practise, an idea is a plan of action; it is one part
of experience used as a means of getting further experience. There is
no chasm between the world of things and the world of thoughts; the
world of thoughts is the world of things viewed in process of becoming
something different from what they have been in relation to the needs
of former practise. From this point of view there is no need for a
timeless, processless, inscrutable absolute to guarantee the integrity of
a subjective-objective, mind-matter, ego-alter world: the only absolute
required is the concrete process of experience itself. There is no abso-
lutely absolute absolute just as there is no absolutely relative relative.
Absolute idealism and absolute scepticism are self -contradictory limit-
ing conceptions, neither of which is true, taken by itself, but each of
which is useful in refuting the other by throwing it back upon the con-
crete process whence it was derived and where alone it is significant.

Quite the most delightful humor of the present philosophical situa-
tion is the way in which the pragmatists in practise repudiate prag-
matism as a theory, while on the other hand the pragmatic theorists
fail to see their own incorrigible idealism. Rotund in the complacency
with which they regard their abstract ideals, which they sentimentally
revere, but never use, the actual pragmatist looks with contempt upon
the theory of his own practise when some ingenuous idealist seeks to
formulate it for him. For what is pragmatic theory to him who is a
pragmatist in conduct? It is heresy, blasphemy, anarchy — destruc-
tion of established ideals which must be protected at all hazards from
any pollution by the " given case." He does not realize that he is
destroying the only theoretically sound basis of his own practise, that

NEW PHILOSOPHY CALLED PRAGMATISM 69

his so-called ideals are simply masks to conceal the irregularity and
irrationality of his practise.

But the full humor of the situation does not appear until we turn
to the supposed teachers of pragmatism — the pragmatists in theory.
They are not really pragmatists, most of them, but idealists. They
have developed pragmatism simply as a means of realizing a new idea
in philosophy which seems more valuable to them than any of the old
ideals. The fact that the new ideal is not consciously present or clearly
worked out, does not alter the case. The function of the philosophical
pragmatist of the day is not to supplant the various forms of idealism
which have held sway, but to make their ideals operative as forces in
the world of actual conditions and causes. It brings ideals down to
earth ; it does not destroy them. The positive mission of the pragmatic
theorist is to show men how to use ideals as genuine dynamic functional
realities instead of sentimentally worshipping them in their inviolable
isolation. Pragmatism means, not the opportunism or expediency
philosophy which too often is the only working theory of the man of
affairs; it finds the ideal in the conditions, cultivates and guides its
growth within the given case, and formulates it by reading off the " law
of the process " by which those very conditions have given rise to the
given case.

Men can not get along, and remain civilized, without ideals. It is
not only the lover, idolizing the object of his affection, who is actuated
by ideals : the successful statesman, scientist or man of business is
always an idealist. He has an insight and an outlook — a point of
view — which transforms the world of facts in the midst of which he
lives, from a brute mass of obstruction and baffling perplexity into a
systematic scheme or plan for bringing things to pass. His scheme
may be false in certain particulars, but he can no more get along
without some centralizing intellectual machinery than a complex organ-
ism can get along without a central nervous system or a complex civili-
zation without its methods of communication.

Ideals are simply codes, customs, institutions, habits undergoing
reconstruction in the medium of the direct emotional appreciation and
rational insight of individuals. A philosophy must at bottom be an
idealism because it is a theory of human progress — it seeks to deal in
idea methodically with all the conditions by which man evolves an
increasingly enriched experience. But experience is not thus mediated
when certain standards, relevant in some past situation, are carried
over bodily and unrevised into new conditions. This is the fallacy of
most of the rationalistic and absolutistic forms of idealism which have
held sway. Accepted types of thought and action are imposed on a new
situation, and where the new conditions do not fit the rigid framework
of the old standard, effort is made to force them into conformity with
it. This is the obstructive aspect of absolutism against which pragma-

70 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tism has raised its timely protest and its demand that all the factors
of a situation must be represented constructively in the result.

The pragmatic philosophy, in other words, is a functional idealism :
its method is at once intrinsic or immanent and functional or organic.
By saying that its method is immanent, we mean that experience must
be interpreted from within. We can not jump out of our skins, as
Professor James says; we can not pull ourselves up by our own boot-
straps. We find ourselves in mid-stream of the Niagara of experience
and may define what it is only by working back and forth within the
current. " We don't know where we're going but we're on the way."
If it be asked, Where does this " concrete " experience come from ?
the question, as Professor Dewey replies, is irrelevant. Experience
does not " come from " an}rwhere. It is here. We begin with
it as the reality-here-and-now. To pursue the question of the origin
of experience in an absolute sense, is to seek to run out on an abstrac-
tion as if it were a tight-rope, when it has no support at the other end.
" How experience became we shall never find out," writes Professor
Dewey, " for the reason that experience always is. We shall never
account for it by referring it to something else, for ' something else '
is only for and in experience." Or, as Professor James has put it,
" Though one part of our experience may lean upon another part to
make it what it is in any one of several aspects in which it may be
conceived, experience as a whole is self-containing and leans on
nothing."

By organic or functional is meant that all distinctions in theory
are true only in relation to the specific situation within which they are
set up. There is no truth in general or in the abstract : there are only
truths. It further means that in the case of all the dualisms of reflect-
ive thought which have occasioned so much controversy in the history
of philosophy, each abstract member of the dichotomous distinction is
true only in relation to the other. Does a man walk more with his left
or with his right leg ? asks Professor James. If he is lost in the forest
in the northern hemisphere, he may be said perhaps to walk more with
his right leg when he goes around in a circle to the left, but more
important than the fact of inequality is the fact that he must use them
both and that they must cooperate to a common end, if he is to be said
to walk at all. When I follow the squirrel around the tree, do I or
do I not go around the squirrel? As Professor James here, too, has
pointed out, I do, and I do not, go around the squirrel according to
which situation of " going around " is under discussion. As he con-
tinues, it is not particularly illuminating when you ask what o'clock
it is, to be told, as the traditional metaphysician tells us, that he lives
in Kensington Place.

Only by a functional interpretation of the time-honored antinomies
of reflective thought is it possible to put any practical meaning into the

NEW PHILOSOPHY CALLED PRAGMATISM ji

dualisms of actual and ideal, finite and infinite, one and the many,
subject and object, mind and matter, ego and alter, reason and faith,
good and evil, right and wrong, experience and reality, and the host
of other antitheses which the dialectical ingenuity of sapient man has
teased out of the intricate meshwork and living tissue of concrete
experience.

In conclusion it should be said that, just because pragmatism is
idealistic, it is not egoistic, as it has been falsely charged with being, in
either the social or the ethical sense.

One of the main contentions of the pragmatists who have been
quoted in the foregoing paragraphs, especially of Professor Dewey, who
is its most consistent exponent on this side, is the social conditioning
of consciousness and of the knowledge process by which reality is con-
stituted in experience. This is not the place to expand upon it, but
it is important to note that for the pragmatic idealist, consciousness
is essentially social in its content, individuals are functions of each
other, selfhood is achieved only through interaction of selves; and
cognition, which is ordinarily conceived as a mental process going on
in the head of some so-called individual, is a process which includes
the object as well as the subject in its activity. As Professor Eoyce
has so ably set forth, the external world is the communicable world, is
socially constructed, and it may with truth be said, as a recent writer
expresses it, that it is as proper to call ultimate reality a society-of-
selves as to call it the absolute.

The pragmatic ethics is currently described as the art of making
one's self comfortable in the long run, or, in its more cynical form, if
you can't have what you want, don't want it. The reply to the implied
criticism in the first formulation is that egoism is not incompatible
with altruism. It is true, not only that what is good for society is
good for the individual, but that what is good for the individual must
in the long run be good for society. Egoism or individualism in a
functional sense, which recognizes the relationship of the self to the
social whole, is the very essence of progress. Egoism and altruism, like
other abstractions, when taken in isolation, confute each other. An
altruism which is only an excuse for trying to manage other people's
affairs is not different from a self-centered egoism; while an egoism
which conceives of the self so widely and so generously that it can not
find happiness save through the happiness of others, is a very genuine
kind of altruism. And the alternative suggested in the second formu-
lation of the pragmatic morality is not the only one: another would
be : If you can't have what you want, want it more vitally, more organ-
ically, until you get it. A pragmatic ethics refuses to believe that
any craving or impulse of human nature is bad as such. There is no
absolute evil. Error and evil, like truth and good, are matters of rela-
tionship; and, just as the truth is not attained until all the so-called

72 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

errors are seen in relation to each other and to the whole as partial
truths, so all the so-called evil impulses of man must be represented
constructively in that outcome of the moral struggle which we call the
good. " Nothing succeeds like success," " It's true if it works," are
phrases which are capable of an idealistic interpretation in relation to
social progress as well as of an egoistic and ethically materialistic inter-
pretation which results in anarchy.

Life is a game of skill, and pragmatism is an attempt to " play
the game " as well as possible, since perforce we must play it. It is
a philosophy of work, of practise, of labor, of the strenuous life; but
it is not simply that. Since, as we have seen, it is not mere practise,
but likewise a theory of practise, this brings in the other side which
we have called its idealistic aspect. But pragmatism is more than
either an empiricism or an idealism : it is an immediatism or mysticism
in the good sense of the word — it is a philosophy of play and a branch
of fine art. It provides for moral holidays; it is a philosophy of that
culture which in its leisure is not idle; it finds a place for the feelings
and values and ends of life as well as for conduct and ideas and the
means of living. The simple life is as truly its goal as the strenuous
life ! The simple life ! — the " last refuge of complexity ! " How much
effort people put forth in the endeavor to lead the simple life ! It is
not getting away from complexity, but controlling complexity in rela-
tion to the attainment of the values of life, that pragmatism recom-
mends— not the simple life, but the simplified life. And among other
means of the control of cultured living, a true philosophy finds its
place: first, as a balance-wheel to the tangential tendencies of lop-
sided common sense with its uncommon stupidities and rigidities
and foreshortening of view; second, as a clearing-house for bal-
ancing up the credit and debit accounts of science in relation to
this great problem of the control of the conditions of living; and
third, as an enhancement of the appreciation of the values of life
in emotional and personal terms, by seeing all knowledge and conduct
in their widest cosmic and deepest spiritual implications, and feeling
with Kant and Tennyson the relation of the flower in the crannied
wall of one's own door-yard to the stars above and the moral law within.
This is pragmatism and this is a philosophy which must recommend
itself to men and women of to-day.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 73

THE MOVEMENT TOWARDS "PHYSIOLOGICAL"

PSYCHOLOGY. II

By Professor R. M. WENLEY

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

IV

THIS brings us at length to the true physiological line, and to the
rapid assimilation of psychology to positive science. The start-
ing point lies in that French group whom Napoleon nicknamed con-
temptuously, les Ideologues: Cabanis, de Tracy, Laromiguiere, and
Maine de Biran.1 Cabanis and de Tracy were the leaders in all essen-
tials. Their movement formed part of the mighty revolutionary up-
heaval. By analysis of sensations and ideas they proposed to discover a
method of remoulding society, government and education for practical
purposes. De Tracy (175-1-1836) elaborated what Beneke would have
termed the " inner " side of ideology. His noteworthy efforts lie in
the fields of language, grammar and logic, of economics and govern-
ment, of morals and education. Yet the influence of science upon him,
as upon his fellows, produced results that should receive notice here.
He anticipated Comte in the view that knowledge, properly so called,
consists in an organized system of the sciences ; " positive science,"
as he declares, and to him, more than to Comte and his pupils, we owe
this term, now beatified. In the second place, and coming to the
physiological reference, he was the first to recognize the importance
of muscular activity as a factor in consciousness.2 This formed his
point of contact with Cabanis, who studied what Beneke would have
called the " outer " — the physiological accompaniments of psychological
processes.

Cabanis (1757-1808) inherited the English sensational tendencies
represented in France by Condillac, but he added that acquaintance
with the human body which he acquired as a physician. In his person
the philosophical and physiological lines coincided. His principal
work, " Rapports du Physique et du Morale de l'Homme," grew out of
a series of papers read before the French Institute and published in its
proceedings for 1798-99. So far as he possessed any consistent phil-
osophical standpoint, Cabanis was a pantheist (and, in speculative
physiology, therefore, a vitalist), as his posthumous " Lettres sur les
Causes premieres" (1824) and his discussion of the Stoics in the

*Cf! "Les Ideologues," Fr. Picavet (1891).
2 Ibid., pp. 377, 337 f.

74 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

'' Eapports " show. Nevertheless, later materialists find warrant for
their most striking metajDhor in his pages. As the liver secretes bile
and the kidneys urine, so the brain secretes thought; thus ran Karl
Vogt's raucous challenge (1847). Cabanis employed the very phrase
" secretion of thought " which, as his editor, Peisse, says, " has remained
celebrated." But the classical passage, also in the te Eapports," reads
as follows : " In order to arrive at a correct idea of those operations
from which thought arises, we must consider the brain as a particular
organ, destined specially to produce it in the same way as the stomach
and the intestines are there to perform digestion, the liver to filter the
bile, the parotid, maxillary and sublingual glands to prepare the
salivary juice."3 This is the clear summons to a physiological psy-
chology. Very naturally, Cabanis aimed to supply what Condillac
omitted. Condillac's sensationalism, like that of the English school,
found basis in the external senses. It therefore missed those organic
and internal changes which physiology alone could set forth. Cabanis,
accordingly, insisted that multitudes of impressions proceed continually
from the internal organs to the brain, and that the conditions of the
cerebro-spinal system form a determining factor in this process. Or,
to be more emphatic, as it continues to maintain its unstable equi-
librium, the organism originates vital feelings within itself — feelings
that bear no direct reference to the external world. That is, the im-
pressions of Locke and Hume do not play upon a tabula rasa, but are
met, and twisted, by these organic feelings. The unconscious joins up
with the conscious. Of this process instinct offers a conspicuous
example, Here, primordial experiences, traceable to the embryo, pro-
vide a foundation of organic sensation which (in the light of the
doctrine of evolution) would explain away psychological processes as
automatic — as epiphenomena of the bodily substrate. In this respect
Cabanis was a prophet. Nevertheless, despite his studies of age, sex,
temperament, sensibility, irritability, habit, climate, the foetus and
instinct, he fails to work through his great theme with the necessary
grasp upon detail. His epoch would not let him. Yet he saw the
promised land afar off. For, to him, psychology was already a natural
science. It traffics with phenomena, never with metaphysical realities,
and its material must be found in the relation of mental states to
physiological conditions. Hampered everywhere by contemporary
ignorance of nervous anatomy, he still contrived to formulate a vivid
and convincing psycho-physiological schema, for which, we may as well
confess, due praise has never reached him. Physiology passed to
another land, and he fell into an oblivion rather discreditable to the
historical insight of those who came to elaborate his anticipations.

Plainly a physiological psychology can not emerge in absence of a

8 (Euvres, Vol. III., p. 159.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 75

physiology. The numerous accessions of physiological knowledge dur-
ing the last seventy years tend to obscure the unpropitious outlook at
the dawn of the period. Eef erring to the time (1841) when he became
preparateur to his distinguished predecessor, Magendie, at the College
de France, Claude Bernard drew a gloomy picture.4 The established
"natural history" sciences — geology, botany, zoology — possessed fair
equipment, particularly on the museum side. While chemistry, thanks
doubtless, to Liebig's activity at Giessen, made rapid strides. But
physiology enjoyed no such advantages, was opposed, indeed, even by
a genius of the calibre of Cuvier. " So soon as an experimental phys-
iologist was discovered he was denounced; he was given over to the
reproaches of his neighbors and subjected to annoyances by the police."5
Sir Charles Bell had intimated the contrasted functions of the anterior
and posterior roots of the spinal nerves (1807), but had given no
experimental proof: and Marshall Hall (1835) had discovered the
reflex function of the spinal cord. But no group of investigators had
arisen such as was to place Germany in the leadership. Her pre-
eminence, unchallenged still for physiological psychology, dates from
the life-work of Johannes Miiller, and his profound influence, especially
at Berlin, from 1833 till his death in the year before " The Origin of
Species" (1859).

At this date the intellectual condition of Germany may be called
unprecedented without exaggeration. And the fate reserved for unique
things has overtaken it. Later men, particularly on the scientific side,
have heaped on it multiplied misunderstanding or even obloquy. Little
as I cling to them, I am compelled to declare that Schelling and Hegel
were no day-dreamers, evolving camels from their inner self-conscious-
ness. Both were great men, and Hegel takes his place among the few
marvellous intellects of history. But both suffered from their very
success. Hegel's philosophy formed the seedplot of that comparative
and critical Wissenschaft for which human history supplies the ma-
terial. As these disciplines developed, the defects of the Hegelian
system became more and more irremediable. Yet, the system lacking,
the sciences could not have come to birth. Schelling stood in similar
case. German science from 1797, the year of the publication of his
Xi Ideen zur einer Philosophic der Natur," till 1830 or thereby, drew
inspiration from his humane, if vaulting, spirit. Alex, von Humboldt,
as his biographer Bruhns points out, attempted " by means of a com-
prehensive collation of details, and the institution of the most search-
ing comparisons, to give a scientific foundation to the ideal cosmology
of Herder, Goethe, Schelling and their disciples." Further, Schelling
stimulated Carus, the comparative anatomist : Oersted, the father of

4 Cf. " Physiologie generate," p. 203.
6 Ibid., I. c.

76 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

electro-magnetism; Kielmeyer, an anticipator of biogenesis; I. Dol-
linger, of Wiirzburg, who inoculated Von Baer with genetic ideas; Von
Baer himself, who, more objectively than any other scientific man, has
estimated the germinal significance of the Naturpliilosophie; Liebig,
the pioneer of laboratory methods in chemistry; Johannes Miiller, the
first main constructive power in modern physiology; Kieser, the early
exponent of plant phytotemy; Schonlein and Roschlaub, leaders in the
remarkable band who founded the Berlin school of medicine. Nay
more, his power burst forth again, significantly for psychology, as a
factor in the equipment of Fechner. Thus, like Hegel, Schelling paved
the way for his own fall, by sending others to search out the secrets of
nature. Accordingly, even if the vagaries of Oken disgusted manv,0
and if Steffens's analogies between the catastrophies of the human
spirit and the disturbances of the earth's crust furnished queer geology,
there were no call to " swear at large," to rush around shouting
:i vitalism ! " or otherwise to evince complete lack of the objectivity
necessary to analysis of the crisis. Somnambulists haunt the fringes
of all movements, but we fool ourselves when we take them for
prototypes. New ideas ever were heady; this happens to be the price
set upon their power to reveal unsuspected problems, as Schelling and
his galaxy of scholars did.

Johannes Miiller, then, found himself born into this surging age-
He tended the new scientific spirit to budding, but, unlike Von Baer,
he died ere it blossomed. Speaking under reservation, as an ignorant
man must, I would venture to suggest that he did not enter fully into
Hegel's epoch-making idea of process. So far as I can comprehend his
activity, he was a student chiefly of the organism in gross, that is, a
morphologist, more than an investigator of vital processes, a phys-
iologist. His importance lay in his ideals more than in his results.
" A profound teacher," as his pupil Helmholtz declared, he created an
atmosphere which his pupils breathed, and he lives in their splended
work rather than in any single achievement of his own. In essentials
this atmosphere contained the modern perspective. For, although, as
du Bois Beymond has recorded, he " assumed the existence of a vital
force . . . which in organisms acts the part of a supreme regulator,"
this " force " ruled the realm of the unknown only. In all that could
be mastered by contemporary methods and means Miiller accepted the
chemico-physical view. His studies of nutrition, animal heat, motion
and reflex action, his contributions to acoustics and the phenomena of
speech embody, not simply his own work, they also supply a masterly
unification of previous knowledge. But, especially as concerns phys-
iological psychology, his major result undoubtedly consisted in his
doctrine of " specific energies." No matter what the stimulus, the

6 Cf. Huxley, in the " Life of Owen," Vol. II., p. 295.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 77

same nerve always originates the same sensation. " Miiller's law of
the specific energies marks an advance of the greatest importance . . .
and is, in a certain sense, the empirical exposition of the theoretical dis-
cussion of Kant on the nature of the intellectual process in the human
mind."7 Of course, Miiller's views drew criticism,8 but for us now the
point is that they started activity which, bit by bit, built physiological
psychology into a science.

Fortunate in his disciples— Briicke, Helmholtz, du Bois Beymond,
Ludwig, Czermak, Donders (most teachers would forego all personal
glory gladly to obtain such human material)— Miiller enjoyed luck in
the contemporary course of events. For a science more developed and
surer of itself than physiology was about to join forces with the newer
branch. Magnus, his Berlin colleague in physics, became the focal
point of a movement to which Mitscherlich, Liebig, Ohm, F. Neumann,
and the brothers Weber all contributed, the first and last notably. The
sobering drill of hard, experimental fact gained its recognition here.
Or, as we say in philosophy, the prose of Kant was added to the
romance of Schelling. For physiological psychology the steadying in-
fluence came most by way of Ernst Heinrich Weber, of Leipzig (1795-
1878). Weber, with his younger brothers, Wilhelm and Eduard,
worked from the first along distinctively modern lines. The specula-
tive thought, prevalent in his youth, seems to have passed over his
head. Exact experimental methods came naturally, as it were, to him
and to his brothers. From early life they employed mechanical and
mathematical analyses in dealing with physical, physiological and
psychological phenomena. Kunze, Fechner's nephew and biographer,
goes so far as to say, " they were among the first to raise the study
of nature among Germans to the eminence occupied by the philosophers
and discoveries of the Latin races."9 Their first joint research is
typical of this. In the " Wellenslehre auf Experimente begrundet "
they add to Chladni's acoustic theory a parallel account for light, which
leads substantially to the inference of an elastic ether. Prior to this
Weber had published researches on the " Comparative Anatomy of the
Sympathetic Nerves" (1817) and " On the Ear and Hearing in Men
and Animals" (1827). His psychological contributions appeared in
Wagner's " Handworterbuch der Physiologie," Vol. III., part 2 (1831),
and in the " Archiv fiir anatomische Physiologie" (1835). The
classical paper, " Tastsinn und Gemeingefiihl," was printed in the
former and published separately in 1851. Weber here applied the
method of least observable differences to sensations of pressure and to
the measurement of lines by the eye. These experiments resulted in

' " Physiol. Optik.," Helmholtz, p. 249.
8 Cf . Mind, V., pp. 1 ff. (old series).

9"Gustav Theodor Fechner (Dr. Mises) : Ein deutsches Grelehrtenleben,"
243.

78 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the generalization to which the name " Weber's Law," or the " Fechner-
Weber La.w," or the " Psycho-physical Law/' has been given. Re-
ferring to this discover}-, in the preface to the first great book on phys-
iological psychology, Fechner affirms : " The empirical law which forms
the principal foundation, was laid down long ago by different students
in different branches, and was expressed with comparative generality
by E. H. Weber, whom I would call the father of psycho-physics."10
The law summarizes mathematically the relation between physiological
stimulus and psychical sense-perception. It is based on the fact, fami-
liar in common experience, and now authenticated by numerous observa-
tions and experiments, that the difference between two sensations bears
no direct proportion to the actual difference between their stimuli.
Granted that the least observable difference be a constant, then, the
strength of sensations does not grow in proportion to stimulus, but
much more slowly. Weber's experiments were directed towards meas-
uring the exact proportions, and involved comparisons of lines by the
eye, of weights and of tones. The resultant generalization has been
formulated in various ways. The most direct are as follows : " In
order that the intensity of a sensation may increase in arithmetical
progression, the stimulus must increase in geometrical progression " ;
or, as put more briefly by Fechner, " the sensation increases as the
logarithm of the stimulus " ; or, as Delboeuf has it, " the smallest per-
ceptible difference between two excitations of the same nature is always
due to a real difference which grows proportionately to the excitations
themselves." Like all laws, so-called, this one is an abstraction from
experience. Consequently, it has been subjected to various interpreta-
tions, has been transformed and criticized, and even denied. Again,
like all laws, so-called (e. g., Boyle's law), it holds good only within
limits, and round this aspect of the matter multitudinous experiments
cluster. Space forbids more than a reference to easily accessible litera-
ture.11 Whatever psychological experts may consider to be the present
status of the conclusion, Weber's withers are unwrung. His crowning
achievement was to have shown that measurements and mathematical
methods can be applied in this region of experience. He thus served
himself the founder of the Leipzig line, the torch passing from him to
Lotze, to Fechner, and finally to Wundt.

As at the beginning of modern European thought, in Descartes,
Spinoza, and Leibniz, so here in the Leipzig men, philosophical insight

10 " Elemente der Psychophysik," preface, p. v.

u " German Psychology of To-day," Th. Ribot (where Delboeuf 's researches
are given). "The Human Mind," Sully, Vol. I.; article "Weber's Law" in the
" Encyc. Britannica"; "Principles of Psychology," Wm. James, Vol. I. (a most
unfavorable critique ) ; " Elements of Physiological Psychology," Ladd ; " Human
and Animal Psychology," Wundt, Lectures II., III. and IV. ; " Outlines of
Psychology," Kiilpe.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 79

and power were joined to scientific competence. I, therefore, leave
them for a moment to take a glimpse — it can be no more — at the
strictly scientific interest as we see it illustrated in Johannes Miiller's
greatest pupil, Helmholtz (1821-1894).

Helmholtz ranks not simply with the foremost scientific intellects
of the nineteenth century but with the master minds of all time. His
range, grasp and insight combined to render him monumental. A
contributor to at least eight sciences — physics, physiology, mathemat-
ical physics, meteorology, medicine, chemistry, anatomy and esthetics,
in three of them he stands high among the foremost. More than this,
as Volkmann has recalled, " one of his chief merits was to establish a
harmony between the vast accumulation of facts that characterized the
period comprehending the middle of this century and the more theo-
retical studies." 12 Besides, he possessed unusual manipulative skill,
his inventions of the ophthalmoscope and ophthalmometer alone would
have assured any ordinary reputation. Above all, he was a humanist,
being an accomplished musician, an art critic, and acquainted with the
trend of philosophical thought. His discoveries of classical grade
amaze one by their thoroughness and versatility. The conservation of
energy; the mechanism of the lens of the eye in relation to accom-
modation; the movements of the eyeballs with the attendant problems
of binocular and stereoscopic vision; the profoundest questions of
hydrodynamics, thermodynamics and electrodynamics, the last cul-
minating in the revelations of his favorite pupil, Heinrich Hertz; the
axioms of geometry; the dark places of meteorology; the deeps of
physiological optics and of mathematical physics, all bear witness to
his profound, masculine and subtle intellect. But, for our present
study, the palm must go to his long struggle with the difficulties of
sensation and perception. These absorbed his principal attention from
1852 till 1867 and, in a lesser degree, till his death. He laid the
foundation characteristically by his inquiries into the rate of nervous
impulse in the motor and sensory nerves, about 1850, and his first
paper, on sensation proper, followed in 1852. These labors were
crowned magnificently by the publication, in 1863, of his " Sensations
of Tone," and, in 1867, of his " Physiological Optics " — masterpieces
both. The former, which involved the most complicated research, has
earned the title, " the Principia of acoustics," and must be studied
long to be appreciated. For, it not only ranged over the entire subject
but, incidentally, raised important problems that belong elsewhere,
especially to the domains of phonology and esthetics. Questions about
the quality of the human voice and the absolute pitch of vowel sounds
lead us away from the physical and the physiological laboratory to a very
different environment. Similarly, the " Physiological Optics," with
12 " Hermann v. Helmholtz," J. G. McKendrick, p. 284.

So POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the Young-Helmholtz theory of color, presents investigations about
which psychologists are bound to trouble for many a day.

Thus, the significance of Helmholtz's career may be traced to his
combination of the mathematical and exact-scientific with the human-
istic interest, a union to which we may attribute our greatest advances
alike in science and in intellectual insight. And this fitted him rarely
to execute work of abiding value for physiological psychology. No one
has contrived to reach better results in those unplumbed reaches of
experience where the joint action of body and mind can be studied
with a measure of success. Proceeding from the theory of " specific
energy " of his master Miiller, he wrought it out in detail, eminently
for the mechanism of sight and hearing, by experimental methods and
by mathematico-physical analyses. Upon the romantic interest in
nature stimulated by Schelling he superimposed the critical processes
of Kant, armed with all the resources of the most delicate apparatus
and rigid analytic procedure. This coalition of endowment and out-
look continued in the three leaders who were destined to build psy-
chology into an independent science — Lotze, Fechner and Wundt. To
them we shall turn next.

ENZYMES Si

A PHYSIOLOGICAL PROBLEM: ENZYMES

BY ORVILLE HARRY BROWN, Ph.D., M.D.
PHYSICtAN IN CHIEF OF THE MISSOURI STATE SANATORIUM FOR INCIPIENT TUBERCULOSIS

MT. VERNON, MO.

THE question of enzymes is one of fascinating interest to the
biologist. There is more or less of a mystical atmosphere sur-
rounding these unknown ever-present bodies in all living organisms,
on account of the difficulty in effecting their isolation, and in regard
to the method in which they perform their function. The study of
enzymes has been pursued with much vigor for years by eminent in-
vestigators of the biological sciences, and yet their exact nature is
almost as little understood to-day as ever. Xo enzyme has been abso-
lutely isolated, and consequently the chemical constitution of these
principles is yet a matter of conjecture. We can, however, unerringly
detect their presence, both qualitatively and quantitatively.

The terms enzyme and ferment as used to-day are practically
synonymous. The latter term is doubtless the more familiar of the
two to the laity. A classical example of fermentation is the changing
of sugar, by means of yeast, to alcohol and carbonic acid gas. The
yeast is necessary to this process, in so far as it elaborates the active
agent — enzyme, or ferment — which is essential. The yeast, more
properly according to our former conception, than now, is spoken of as
an organized ferment. This was on account of the supposition that the
yeast itself was the ferment. It has only recently been shown that
a substance can be extracted from the yeast cell, which brings about
the process, spoken of as fermentation. In contradistinction to the
organized ferments there were the unorganized ferments, as, for
example, the enzymes of the alimentary canal, which were capable of
bringing about digestion as wTell outside of the body in a test beaker,
as in their normal habitat, the stomach and intestines. The separa-
tion of a material from the yeast cell, which still possessed its activity
made obsolete the classification of unorganized and organized ferments.
The agents which were formerly classified under the two heads,
although differing in characteristics, are alike in that both are definite
chemical substances secreted or manufactured by cells — a single-celled
organism in one case and a multicellular in the other. Many bacteria
were formerly believed to belong to the same class as the yeast, and
thought to possess a fermentative function; now it is known that the
bacteria elaborate a substance which has the enzymotic properties.

The physiologist defines an enzyme as a body, which, remaining

82 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

unaltered itself, accelerates a chemical reaction, otherwise going on very
slowly. To elucidate with an example: fat is a chemical union of
two compounds, one of which is called a fatty acid, and the other an
alcohol. Fat, in the absence of a fat splitting enzyme, yields very
small quantities of these two substances in the course of a long time.
But, in the presence of a proper enzyme the fat yields considerable
quantities of fatty acid and alcohol in a comparatively short time. The
rapidity of the splitting is directly proportional to the amount of the
enzyme added. A small amount of the enzyme will decompose just
as much of the fat as a large quantity will, but a longer period of time
is required. A quantity of the enzyme may be used over and over
again for splitting any amount of fat, unless it is destroyed by bacteria,
heat, chemicals, or some other deleterious agent.

When fat and an enzyme are placed in a test tube together, not
all the fat is changed into its component parts. The reaction proceeds
until more than half the fat is decomposed. Then there is a reversal
of the chemical reaction. Fat is reformed from the fatty acid and
alcohol; the splitting process proceeds very slowly if at all. The fat
formation goes on as the predominant process in the tube until an
excess of fat is formed, when a reversal again occurs, and fat decom-
position becomes the chief reaction in the test tube. The alternate
breaking down and building up goes on indefinitely, like the swinging
back and forth of a pendulum. The sweep of the pendulum when
first started may be broad, but if allowed to swing uninterruptedly,
there is a gradual diminution of the distance traversed until the pendu-
lum eventually comes to a standstill. Thus it is with the chemical
reaction. This power of an enzyme to carry a chemical reaction in
either direction is spoken of as the reversibility of enzymes. This has
not been demonstrated to be true of all these bodies, but the physi-
ologist delights in the speculation that it is; and many are the prob-
lems planned to demonstrate this characteristic in this or that enzyme.

Enzymes have important functions to perform in both animal and
plant economy. Practically all of the chemical reactions, normally
occurring in life processes, are believed to be aided by ferments. The
distribution of these bodies in an organism is general. In man they
are found, not only in the alimentary canal, but in the blood and
lymph and presumably every cell of the body. The ferments of the
alimentary canal are there for the purpose of splitting the food stuffs
into their components, which are more readily absorbable than the
original materials. Those of the liquids and cells of the body reform
and build up the food elements into the vital tissues or protoplasm of
the organism.

Another process in which enzymes play an omnipotent part is that
of respiration. The oxidation of the protoplasmic constituents, from

ENZYMES »3

which the heat and energy originate, and upon which life is so alarm-
ingly dependent — going on, not chiefly in the lungs or blood, but in
every cell of the body, is responsible to an enzyme, or catalase, known
as an oxidase. The result of these elements, which is the bringing
about of the union of oxygen with the tissue, is perfectly well known,
but the chemical nature and the physical characteristics of the oxidases,
are problems for speculation.

The enzymes in plant cells are similar at least in action to the
corresponding ones of animals; but, in addition to those possessed by
animals, plants have ferments which enable them, in the sunlight, to
use carbonic acid gas in building up some of its cell constituents.

The method used in the laboratory for demonstrating the presence
of an enzyme is very simple. The tissue to be examined is finely
minced and ground up in a mortar. In order to facilitate the divi-
sion of the cells, sand may be used in the grinding. The pulverized
mass is then mixed with water or a dilute salt solution, which dis-
solves the enzyme. To find out what the nature of the enzyme may be,
a small amount of the solution just prepared above, free of residue, is
added to a solution of a substance, as starch, fat, or proteid, which an
enzyme may decompose. After the course of a few hours the mixture
is "tested for the splitting products of the respective substance added.
If such be found and none were in either solution when kept separate,
it may be safely concluded that an enzyme has been discovered in the
tissues examined. Very likely it can be demonstrated that the tissue
contains more than one ferment, by showing that the tissue extract
will split more than one class of substances.

It has been but recently discovered that enzymes or, better, pro-
enzymes have an interaction. The pure secretion from the pancreas
does not digest proteids. The unadulterated juices from the intestinal
wall do not split up proteids. But a mixture of the two secretions
possesses marked proteolytic powers. This phenomenon has also been
observed with other ferments.

It has been known for years that certain finely divided metals, like
silver, platinum, gold and others, possess the property of accelerating
some of the reactions of, or chemical changes in, inorganic chemistry.
As an example — if any one of the above metals be added to a solution
of hydrogen dioxide, the compound is decomposed into its constituents,
water and oxygen. It remained, however, till recent years for a young
man working in the physiological laboratory of one of our great uni-
versities to show that these finely divided metals, elements of the
inorganic world, could perform the function of a body ferment. Finely
powdered platinum prepared by precipitation — known as platinum
black — when added to a simple fat, decomposes it, in the same manner
as a body enzyme would do. The metal has practically all the char-

S4 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

acteristics of an organic enzyme. It digests the fat; it rebuilds fat
from the component parts, i. e., its action is reversible; it is affected
similarly by temperature changes and chemicals.

Another parallelism exists between the " vital " and inorganic phe-
nomena, in the action of the salivary juice and acids on starch. The
starch is to a greater or less extent digested in the mouth by virtue
of a starch-splitting enzyme of the saliva. The same thing occurs if
the starch and saliva are put together in a test tube. Acids will also
digest starch. There is one marked difference, however, between the
two. Enzymes act best at body temperature or a little above, while
acids require boiling for their optimum action.

The temperature at which ferments act best is usually a little above
the temperature of the body to which they belong. The optimum
temperature for the action of enzymes of cold-blooded animals is below
that for warm-blooded animals. A rise of twenty or thirty degrees
above the optimum temperature destroys the ferments. A lowering of
the temperature unless to the extreme does not kill; it only inhibits.
The enzymes regain their function when the temperature returns to
normal.

Many drugs have a very decided influence upon the fermentative
processes. Of recent years this problem has occupied the mind and
time of a number of physiologists. It is evident that this is a question
of vital importance, on account of the general distribution of enzymes
in the body, and the common introduction of drugs into the body.
Very much too little is known, by even the scientific physician of to-day,
regarding the action of drugs on the enzymes of the body. Some
chemicals when present with the enzyme increase its power to do work;
others decrease its power; and others stop it entirely. The concentra-
tion of the chemicals is of paramount importance. Most chemicals
in concentrated solutions entirely prevent the action of ferments.
On dilution the inhibitory power of the solutions decreases. In mod-
erate concentrations some inhibit, more or less, and some stimulate,
more or less. Both these processes usually decrease as the concentra-
tion of the respective solutions decrease. In some cases an effect may
be noted in even very dilute solutions; a good example of such a
solution is hydrocyanic acid.

If the author has been successful in the presentation of this subject,
the reader should be impressed with the importance of the problem.
The intimate relationship of enzymes with the vital processes renders
an extensive knowledge of these bodies fundamental in the research
into the phenomena of life.

A SYSTEM OF AQUATIC FARMING 85

NEEDED: A SYSTEM OF AQUATIC FAEMING

By Profkssor HERBERT OSBORN
OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY

THEEE is a natural resource available in many parts of the country,
indeed, on a large number of farms or in larger unused tracts of
the entire Atlantic and Mississippi Valley region, that is not only almost
wholly neglected, but the neglect of which involves a number of phases
of economic loss. This loss becomes more serious and the reparation
the more difficult as time passes, and hence a note of warning and
appeal seems justified.

The present tendency is to reduce not only all accessible forest areas
to ordinary farm cultivation, but by drainage of all possible swamp
areas to still further increase the area for ordinary tillage and to
decrease those tracts which have in some degree the function of holding
and regulating the outflow of our rainfall.

Without attempting to discuss all the economic problems connected
with this phase of the subject, we may note that it affects the con-
stancy of water level over considerable areas, the flow of streams with
its bearings on flood disasters and navigation, but perhaps more vitally
the carriage of fertility from the farming regions to the sea, where,
if it ever becomes available as a human resource, it is so remotely
advantageous to the farm or to the nation that it must be counted an
economic loss.

The assumption seems to have been, based, doubtless, on our knowl-
edge of but one kind of farming, that every bit of land not under
ordinary farm culture Avas a loss, and therefore to be transformed as
rapidly as possible to cultivated fields. To this end, forests have been
felled, and lowland swamps and marshes, even including many extensive
and valuable bodies of shallow water, have been drained. This means
that instead of acting as natural reservoirs and conservators of moisture
and fertility, their surplus moisture content has been discharged as
rapidly as possible into the rivers and so on to the seas.

Before making some suggestions as to systems of farming by which
it seems possible to avoid this waste, and, on the other hand, to develop
some most productive sources of wealth, it will be in place to call
attention to the capacity for production resident in every permanent
body of water.

Every one is familiar with the rank growth of swamps and lowlands
and the most superficial observation will reveal the enormous masses of

86 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

plant life growing in bodies of still water, or even in running water
where the bottom will permit the rooting of the plant. But in addition
to this evident growth there is an enormous development of life, micro-
scopic or transparent and invisible except when collected and studied
by proper methods, which, in rapidity of growth and amount of mass
may far outclass the visible portion. Some of this becomes apparent as
green scum or as floating masses when its growth exceeds the capacity
of the aquatic animals to consume it. Sometimes these minute algae
become a great source of annoyance in water supplies if for any reason
their multiplication is unchecked, since they give offensive odors and
taste to the water.

It has been estimated that the rate of development in some of
these organisms is such that the possible progeny of one individual
would suffice to fill all the waters of the globe in less than a week.

This is significant to us here simply as showing the enormous pos-
sibility of these organisms in utilizing water and air in the formation
of vegetable substance, which substance may, with proper utilization,
be transformed into fertilizing agents for the production of valuable
plant crops or into animals having direct commercial value. To under-
stand this process, let us consider for a moment the relations existing
among aquatic organisms. The algae may be considered among the
more simple and these develop with only water and air or the other
inorganic contents of water, but they furnish food for an innumerable
host of microscopic animals such as amcebas, rotifers, etc., and these
in turn are fed upon by others, such as microscopic Crustacea, which
again form an important part in the diet of young fishes. These, when
grown, or after furnishing the basis of food for other larger species,
may reach our tables as human food. This, however, is but one line of
transformation, as we have fishes of very different habits utilizing dif-
ferent kinds of aquatic life as food.

Where the life taken from the water does not balance the produc-
tion, or where this product is not drained off into the sea, the accumu-
lation of organic debris forms at the bottom a mass of richest organic
matter, which by its decomposition may in a large part result in marsh
gas, and in this form escape into the air.

Having indicated the possibility of an unworked phase of agricul-
ture, or aquaculture, let us now turn to some of the possible lines of
development in this field.

We have in America practically no established system of cropping
our water areas. It is true that some progress has been made in the
sponge farming of Florida, and oyster farming in Rhode Island, Con-
necticut, Virginia, North Carolina and Louisiana, but even these need
further development to utilize the natural possibilities.

But so far as fresh-water culture goes, there is scarcely a begin-

A SYSTEM OF AQUATIC FARMING S7

ning. Something has been accomplished in fish culture in some sec-
tions, but even here the full utilization of the resources of a body of
water are but poorly accomplished. A few sporadic efforts have been
made here and there in the culture of frogs and turtles, but how many
of them with such attention to the subject as to warrant the term cul-
ture? In fact, these efforts have often resulted in failure and their
projectors looked upon as visionaries, worthy the contempt of the hero
in the " Virginian."

The farmer who drains and cultivates an acre of swampy land on
his farm gains that much additional space for his ordinary culture
and for a time at least it may be unusually productive as it contains
the accumulated organic debris of years, but would it not be far greater
wisdom to dredge out occasionally a portion of this accumulation to
spread upon the higher ground and keep the acre as a source of fertil-
izing material for the years to come. This seems all the more desirable
when it is remembered that this basin must collect quantities of the
finest and most fertile parts of the soil washed from the higher ground.
Moreover, I hope to show that there is good reason to expect that the
acre can be made so productive over and above this function of con-
serving fertility that it will be worth more in water than it could be as
cultivated land.

What is needed in the matter of utilization of our great tracts of
marshy or swampy land is some such systematic study and the develop-
ment of some such adapted system as is in progress of development in
the systems of " dry farming " in the arid or semi-arid regions of the
west — a system which will intelligently conserve and utilize our heri-
tage of water, not throw it ignorantly away and reduce our uplands to
a condition of sterility.

Frog farms, turtle farms, fish farms by themselves might be put
in the same category as skunk farms and fox farms; useful to utilize
certain minor tracts of otherwise worthless land, but what is needed,
if any general good is to follow, is a rational system applicable to the
treatment of all tracts of level swampy land, especially those at the
head waters of the great river systems and in the coastal swamps of the
Great Lakes and river deltas — in fact, to all areas where a fairly
constant water level is possible.

Possible Crops

It is evident that in the nature of things wherever private owner-
ship exists, or is possible, the effort inevitably will be toward gaining
the largest immediate return from any such area, and the only hope
of preserving these swampy tracts as reservoirs of water will be to hold
them as public reservations or to devise some system of production
which will make them more profitable with the water retained than they

SS POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

can be with the water removed. Hence an extended and careful study
of the crops available for culture in such tracts becomes a pressing
necessity. Such a study will of necessity involve years of investigation,
both of the practises in countries where some such systems exist and of
possibilities under our own conditions of available crops, markets,
machiner}', etc.

A short resume, however, of some of the crops which already have
some claim to notice and those which give promise of availability will
help to show the possibility and practicability of such a system.

Among the plant crops which may be mentioned are water cress,
which is already an article of considerable commercial value, but prob-
ably much less used in this country than elsewhere and doubtless much
less than if the supply were increased. Methods of its culture are,
of course, well known and would be simply a matter of adaptation to
particular areas. The cranberry is also a well-known crop, adapted to
bog or swamp conditions and for which there is unlimited demand.

Some of the marsh grasses, cat tails, rushes and other plants make
a most abundant growth, and in association with other crops could no
doubt be cultivated to good advantage. The basket willows are of great
value and are used extensively in the manufacture of baskets, an indus-
try which is capable of much expansion. The pond lily surely offers
an opportunity for a most valuable aquatic crop, if systematically culti-
vated and harvested, especially in the vicinity of large cities and popular
excursion resorts.

We may mention, also, the development of the industry, based on
the slough-grasses of the northwest, including the manufacture of bind-
ing twine, mattings or carpetings and furniture. This utilizes an
extensive area of wet land, not available for other crops, and which, if
retained for this crop, doubtless could be utilized also in the culture
of some other more distinctly aquatic crop. Other fiber plants are a
possibility.

Of animal crops which are already known, fish culture is the most
extended, but in general this is not reduced to a systematic farming
basis. I can recall the furore created some twenty-five or thirty years
ago, in connection with the introduction and proposed production of
carp, but so far the carp industry in this country is mainly confined
to that grown without attention, and gathered indiscriminately by
fishermen without reference to any private rights. The market for this
fish has, however, greatly increased and in centers where there is a
large European population, as in New York City or Chicago, im-
mense quantities are sold, and it is claimed that these people prefer
carp to other fish which are greater favorites with American tastes.
Under other names carp are sold to a considerable extent in our markets
and, under such disguises as " smoked sturgeon," may pass as a distinct

A SYSTEM OF AQUATIC FARMING 89

delicacy. This fish, on account of capacity for rapid multiplication
and growth in restricted quarters and in ponds with abundant vegeta-
tion, is, perhaps, one of the most available for systematic cultivation.
Other fishes, such as catfish and some of the species of bass, could be
utilized in certain situations to good advantage.

While frogs have not been, as yet, a very common article on our
markets, I do not know that the market has ever been over-stocked,
and in the vicinity of large cities it would seem that a much larger
quantity could be disposed of. As it is, immense numbers are utilized
in the laboratories of schools and colleges, this demand being met for
the most part by the capture of frogs in natural ponds. Crayfishes
have not attained any special market value in the majority of markets,
but I am told that they are sold to a great extent in New York City,
and I see no reason why they should not be used as much as shrimp.
Terrapin and no doubt other species of turtles could be marketed in
much greater numbers than they are at present if their cultivation were
systematized and markets properly handled. Both ducks and geese,
while reared, so far as domestic species are concerned, very largely on
land, would no doubt thrive better and get the best part of their growth
on aquatic plants which form the greater part of their native food.
They could be readily cultivated in connection with other crops.

The shells of fresh-water clams have been the basis for the estab-
lishment of some extensive button factories and the pearls that they
produce have furnished a livelihood to a considerable number of indi-
viduals. But it is said that many of the factories have had to close
on account of the exhaustion of the clams in adjacent streams. Doubt-
less, some reasonable system of gathering the shells or providing for
the propagation and growth of successive generations would easily make
this a permanent crop in suitable waters.

Alligator hides have a high commercial value and are all too scarce,
with good prospect of disappearance from the extermination of the
ungainly animal that produces them. I do not know that an alligator
farm, fenced out in a suitable swamp or bayou, would be a commercial
success, but it would seem well worth while to experiment in some of
the swampy wastes in the domain of this prince of reptiles.

It may be somewhat remote, but it seems conceivable that it would
be possible to utilize some fur-bearing animals in this direction, as,
for instance : the beaver, muskrat, and possibly the otter, as these
animals could certainly be colonized in suitable localities where an
abundant water supply at a fairly constant level is available. As to
possibilities of securing any regular crop from such animals, we have
little data to guide us, but we know that under natural conditions they
multiply at a fairly rapid rate. Muskrats in some localities are caught
and marketed for food as well as for the skins.

go POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

y

With regard to salt or brackish water crops, we have already a good
deal of knowledge, and with some animals and for certain localities
quite thoroughly organized systems of cropping have been established;
for instance, the sponge farms in Florida and oyster farming in some
of the Atlantic states. The latter, however, are by no means so fully
regulated as to secure the best results, as is shown by the exhaustive
discussion of the subject by Professor Brooks. His estimate that the
product from Chesapeake Bay of $2,000,000 annually, could and should
be increased to $60,000,000, has, I believe, never been challenged, and
indicates the possibilities. There are other marine forms like lobster,
crab, shrimp and turtles which would lend themselves to similar definite
systems of cultivation, and in fact a study of the basis for such systems
has been in progress in the Bureau of Fisheries for many years past.
It is necessary, however, that the results be carried into definite regula-
tions or embodied in appropriate legislation in order to secure perpe-
tuity in the crops and the most profitable returns.

In many instances, in both salt and fresh water areas, there will
need to be entirely new legislative enactments providing for the regu-
lations of water areas in which certain more or less sedentary animals
may be cultivated. For such as migrate freely in the open waters there
is perhaps no better policy than to permit capture by any individual
under such restrictions as to season and quantity as may serve to pro-
tect the future supply. If animals have a fixed habitat and are capable
of artificial propagation or culture, there is no logical reason why a
person who plants and cares for such a crop should not be protected in
the right to harvest it. Under existing laws, however, there is great
difficulty in securing such rights, as all waters which have any connec-
tion with navigable streams or lakes are assumed to be public property.
It would be entirely practicable, however, to guard the rights of prop-
erty in the bottoms or shores without interfering in their public use
for navigation, pleasure or even for fishing for such forms as are
migratory. These are questions, however, which can be worked out
when once the advantages of systematic cropping of water areas is fully
recognized.

Aside from measures which utilize existing areas of swamp it
appears to me that great advancement may be made in the combination
of certain land and water crops, for instance, in a tract of marshy land
having practically a constant level it would seem possible to alternate
strips of land and water by the use of suitable dredging appliances, the
land portion being utilized for the cultivation of such intensive crops
as celery, asparagus, onions, strawberries, blackberries, etc., the fertility
being maintained by adding dredged materials from the bottom of
adjacent water strips. The water strips could then be utilized in the
culture of such aquatic forms as fish, frogs, clams, turtles, ducks, etc.,

A SYSTEM OF AQUATIC FARMING 91

as may have the greatest value in the particular localities. By these
methods we should avoid the loss incident upon constant drainage of
water, secure an unfailing irrigation for crops cultivated in the land
portion, secure a valuable source of fertility, and at the same time a
valuable aquatic crop. Systems of this character, however, would be
gradually developed and modified to suit conditions of particular
localities.

A recent number of the National Geographic Magazine gives the
areas of swamp lands in the United States (not including Alaska) at
sixty millions of acres, almost entirely in the humid regions of the
Atlantic slope and the Mississippi Valley.

A bulletin issued later by the U. S. Department of Agriculture
gives an estimate of 77,000,000 of acres for swamp and overflowed lands
and claims a possible reclamation of practically this entire area.

Both of these authors put great stress upon the wealth to be gained
by the drainage of this area, and discuss some of the great national
and state projects already in view, but no hint is given by either that
any part of this vast area could be put to useful service except by dis-
posing of the water.

Sik Edwin Ray Lankester
Who has recently retired from the directorship ot the British Museum of Natural History

THE PRO GEE SS OF SCIENCE

93

THE PKOGRESS OF SCIENCE

ADMINISTRATIVE 21 ET HODS IN
AMERICAN UNIVERSITIES

Recent events at Syracuse, Cincin-
nati and Oklahoma direct attention to
the anomalous conditions of university
control that obtain in this country.
Elsewhere throughout the world the
university is a republic of scholars,
administered by them. Here it is a
business corporation. The ultimate
control is lodged in a board of absentee
trustees, whose chief duty is the elec-
tion of a president. The qualifications
most regarded in the president are
the ability to get money for the insti-
tution and a good presence at public
functions ; but he is expected to " run "
the university. The professors and in-
structors are employed " at the pleas-
ure of the trustees," and so long as
the president maintains his position
this means at his pleasure. Advances
in salary or position, appropriations
for apparatus, etc., are subject to the
same pleasure. In larger institutions
the department-store system naturally
grows up. Deans and heads of de-
partments are responsible to the presi-
dent, and their subordinates are re-
sponsible to them.

As a matter of fact, men are not
dominated by governments and laws,
but conversely. In a great university,
such as Harvard, courtesy and consid-
eration do not fail. In the smaller
colleges, there is the spirit of the
family. So long as the best men are
found at our colleges and universities,
it may not matter greatly under what
system of academic government they
live. But there is real danger that
the existing system may prove repul-
sive to men of the highest intelligence
and character, and that mediocrity and
time-serving may be developed, where

we need the most vigorous ability and
independence. Then we have occasional
i academic scandals which exhibit the
seamy side of the system.

At Syracuse University the chan-
cellor did not like the dean of the
School of Applied Science, and has
dismissed him, giving no grounds ex-
cept that he had. been a disappoint-
ment to the administration. However
this may be, it appears that the dean
has conducted the affairs of his school
with skill, and has the sympathies of
his colleagues at Syracuse and in the
engineering profession, of the students
: and the alumni. A competent engineer
can earn far more by practising his
profession than as a professor, and the
Syracuse dean has not been forced to
sacrifice his independence to feed his
children. He has consequently con-
ducted a good public fight, which will
doubtless lead to an improvement of
affairs at Syracuse and elsewhere. The
Syracuse chancellor has written : " Our
professors have nothing to do with the
hiring, continuing or dismissing of
professors and students." But when
Syracuse recently needed a professor
of botany, men looked askance at the
position, and the same thing will hap-
pen now when the deanship of the
school of engineering must be filled.
Neither the largest stadium in the
world, nor a chancellor who is a
methodist orator, nor a president of a
board of trustees, whose corporation
controls the kerosine of the country,
suffices to make a university.

At the University of Cincinnati
there was a few years ago a deplorable
state of affairs. A president was
brought there to dismiss a large part
of the faculty and then he was in turn
dismissed. Xow the head of the de-

94

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

partment of philosophy has been dis-
missed because his family relations are
not approved. It is not alleged that
he is immoral, and it is admitted that
he is a good teacher and an able in-
vestigator, but his conduct and opin-
ions are said to be subversive of the
family. Whatever may be the merits
of the case, the administrative meth-
ods do not show to advantage.

In the new state of Oklahoma " the
best constitution in the world " has
not provided an ideal educational sys-
tem. Indeed the conditions approach
opera bouffe too nearly to be taken
quite seriously. The head of the state
university, the heads of the normal
schools and of other institutions have
been dismissed and supplanted by
southern democrats. At the university
the question appears to be not whether
a professor is an able teacher and in-
vestigator, but whether he is a good
southern methodist and democrat, who
does not dance. Such conditions are
transient. The danger is that methods
which can not be approved in politics
and business may obtain such footing
in our universities that they will no
longer be centers of democratic indi-

vidualism and of
moral leadership.

intellectual and

THE BOYDEN DEPARTMENT OF

THE HARVARD COLLEGE

OBSERVATORY

Uriah A. Boyden, a Boston inventor
and engineer who died in 1879, be-
queathed property valued at over
$230,000 for "the establishment and
maintenance of an astronomical ob-
servatory on some mountain peak at
such an elevation as to be free, so far
as practicable, from the impediments
to accurate observations which occur
in the observatories now existing,
owing to atmospheric influences."
The fund was transferred by the trus-
tees named in the will to the Harvard
College Observatory, which carried out
the provisions by the establishment of
the Arequippa Observatory in Peru.
An illustrated account of this moun-
tain observatory and of the researches
that have been undertaken there was
contributed to a recent volume of the
Monthly by the director, Professor
Solon I. Bailey. Prior to the founda-
tion of the Arequippa Observatory in
1891, several expeditions were sent out
to determine the conditions that would
best fulfil the terms of Mr. Boyden's
will, and an account of this prelim-
inary work has just been published in
" The Annals of the Harvard College

Station at Pike's Peak.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

95

Station at Mt. Wilson.

Observatory,' by Professor William H.
Pickering.

The first expedition was to the sum-
mit of Pikes Peak, in 1887, where at
an altitude of 14,200 feet, there was a
stone hut erected, by the U. S. Signal
Service. Observations were made for
a month, and it was concluded that
altitude was not as important a factor
in " the seeing " as dryness. In the
following year an expedition went to
California and erected a pier and a
building with a revolving drum on
Mt. Wilson at an altitude of 5,700

feet. This observatory was occupied
for more than a year, and the defini-
tion was found to be good. There was,
however, some question as to the title
of the land and there were advantages
in selecting a location for the observa-
tion of southern stars. As Mr. Bailey
had reported favorably on the Peru-
vian climate, the next expedition was
sent there, and the Mt. Wilson site
was abandoned. It has since been oc-
cupied by the buildings and fine instru-
ments of the Solar Observatory of the
Carnegie Institution.

Station at Jamaica.

96

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The expedition to Peru arrived in
Arequippa at the beginning of 1891,
and a site for the observatoiy was
selected on the crest of a ridge about
300 feet above the city. Here was
erected an observatory in which there
have been carried forward under the
direction of Professor Bailey important
observations on the southern stars.

After working in the observatory es-
tablished by Professor Lowell in Ari-
zona, Professor W. H. Pickering con-
cluded that neither dryness nor alti-
tude is the important factor affecting
the quality of the seeing, and, in order
to study the problem further, an ex-
pedition to Jamaica was undertaken
in 1899, where observations were made
at several stations from the sea-level
to an altitude of 2,300 feet. In a sec-
ond Jamaica expedition the following
year a horizontal telescope, with an
18-inch mirror and 15-inch lens, was
erected at Mandeville.

Professor Pickering concludes that
elevation above the sea-level gives
somewhat better definition, especially
towards the horizon, and avoids dust
and haze. A dry climate has advan-
tages in its freedom from dew, cloud
and fog, but does not give better defi-
nition than one that is moist. A low
latitude has three advantages: The
definition is better, the bodies to be
observed pass near the zenith and a
larger portion of the heavens is
brought into view.

THE HANOVER MEETING OF THE
AMERICAN ASSOCIATION

On the invitation of Dartmouth
College the American Association for
the Advancement of Science will hold
a special meeting at Hanover, N. H.,
from June 29 to July 3. The Amer-
ican Physical Society and the Geolog-
ical Society of America will meet with
the association, and regular programs
will be arranged only in physics and
in geology. There will, however, be

public lectures and numerous interest-
ing excursions, and those able to at-
tend may look forward to a pleasant
visit to a typical New England college
under the most favorable conditions.
The railways offer rates of a fare and
a third on the certificate plan, and
excellent local arrangements are as-
sured for the entertainment of visitors.
Many members regret the transfer
of the annual meeting of the associa-
tion from the summer to the winter.
It is certainly true that the large
meetings in a city are likely to sacri-
fice the social pleasures to business
efficiency and to neglect one of the
main objects of the association — the
diffusion of science. A meeting such
as this at Hanover should be attractive
to those who wish to meet their col-
leagues amid pleasant surroundings,
and to those not professionally en-
gaged in scientific work but interested
in it. Men and women of this class
are especially welcomed to the present
summer meeting and may feel free to
attend without being elected in ad-
vance to membership. Those who go
are certain to find the meeting both
pleasant and useful.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS

We record with regret the deaths of
Dr. Heinrich Maschke, professor of
mathematics in the University of Chi-
cago; of M. Albert de Lapparent, the
eminent French geologist; of Dr. K.
Mobius, professor of zoology at Berlin,
and of Dr. Pierre Jacques Antoine
Bechamp, eminent for his researches
in organic chemistry.

The house of representatives con-
curring with the senate and by a
unanimous vote, has granted an an-
nuity for life of $125 a month to the
widows of the late Major James Car-
roll, surgeon, U. S. army, and the late
acting assistant surgeon, Jesse W.
Lazear, whose lives were sacrificed in
the study of yellow fever in Cuba.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

AUGUST, 1908

THE HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY;
THE AGE OF THE EARTH AND SUN

By Professor FLORIAN CA.JORI

COLORADO COLLEGE

IN the small town of Heilbronn, in Wiirtemberg, stands a monument
erected to the memory of. the physician, Robert Mayer. It was
unveiled in 1892, just fifty years after the publication of Robert
Mayer's first essay on the conservation of energy. His career as a
scientific discoverer is marked by many pathetic incidents. After the
study of medicine he was made sanitary officer on a Dutch vessel, bent
for the East Indies. During the long ocean voyage on the slow sail-
ing vessel he was left much to himself. He gave his leisure hours to
the contemplation of scientific subjects. He had occasion to observe
that, in tropical countries, blood taken from the veins of patients looks
almost like arterial blood. He concluded that in the tropics less
oxidation is necessary than in a cold climate, in order to maintain a
uniform bodily temperature. There must be a quantitative relation
between the amount of heat generated and the temperature in which
we live. In cold, northern climates "more heat must be developed for
the maintenance of uniform bodily temperature. During the 219 days
between February and September, 1840, spent on the water, Mayer
dwelt in close intellectual communion with nature, and she gradually
revealed to him one of her most precious secrets. Upon his return to
Heilbronn he kept on thinking. A moving body is brought to rest by
friction; heat appears. Has the motion disappeared into nothing?
Has heat sprung out of nothing? If not, then there must be an
equivalence between the heat generated and the motion destroyed.
Causa aquat affectum, " Cause is equal to effect/' became his favorite
axiom. At first he thought that kinetic energy varied as the velocity.
Later he recognized his error and perceived its variance with the square
of the velocity.

On June 16, 1841, he sent an essay embodying his new ideas for
vol. Lxxirr. — 7.

98 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

publication in Poggendorff's Annalen, but the manuscript was not
published nor was it returned to the author.2 Thirty-six years later
it was found among the papers of Poggendorff. In 1842 Mayer pre-
pared a second short paper of seven pages and had the satisfaction of
seeing it printed in Liebig's Annalen der Chemie. This was a happy
time in his life, for at the very hour when he learned of the acceptance
of his manuscript, he was bringing home his bride and presenting her
to his aged parents.3 But it is one thing to secure the publication of
a manuscript and quite another thing to get scientific men to read and
study it. A new discovery necessitates a new language. A new lan-
guage is not generally understood. The curse of Babel fell upon
Mayer's paper : " Confound their language, that they may not under-
stand one another's speech." Other papers were printed by Mayer as
pamphlets in 1845 and 1848.

Something of the personality of Mayer may be gained from the
following stories.4 During a hurried meeting with Mayer in Heidel-
berg once, Jolly remarked, with a rather dubious implication, that if
Mayer's theory were correct water could be warmed by shaking. Mayer
went away without a word of reply. Several weeks later ... he rushed
into the latter's presence, exclaiming, " Es ischt so ! yj (It is so, it is
so). It was only after considerable explanation that Jolly found out
what Mayer wanted to say. Of metaphysics Mayer had no apprecia-
tion. Biimelin narrates that in 1841 Mayer borrowed from him a
copy of Hegel's " Logik " and Hegel's " Naturphilosophie," but re-
turned the books a few days later with the remark that he did not
understand a word, and that he could not understand any part of it,
were he to study it a hundred years.5

For years Mayer was unable to bring his great discovery to the
serious attention of scientific men. Later there followed controversies
on his rights of priority. A gloom fell upon him through the death
of two of his children. His mind became seriously affected, and on
May 26, 1850, he unsuccessfully attempted suicide by jumping from a
second-story window. In 1851 he was placed in an insane asylum,
where he was cruelly treated. Two years later he was set free, but he
never again regained complete mental equilibrium. Such is the
pathetic story of the first discoverer of the conservation of energy.6

2"Mechanik der Warme," von R. Mayer (ed. J. J. Weyrauch), Stuttgart,
1893, p. 16; "Kleinere Schriften u. Briefe," von Robert Mayer (ed. J. J.
Weyrauch), Stuttgart, 1893, V., p. 99.

3 "Kleinere Schriften," p. 379.

4Mach in the Monist, Vol. 6, 1896, p. 171, copied in Cajori's "History of
Physics," New York, 1899, p. 210. Several passages in this address are taken
from this " History of Physics."

BG. Riimelin, " Reden und Aufsatze," Freiburg i. B., 1881, p. 380.

8 For a statement, by Clausius, explaining the manner in which Mayer's

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY 99

In 1858 a few voices were heard in Germany in praise of Mayer,
but the one who did most to bring him historical justice was John
Tvndall, who in 1862 lectured before the Eoyal Institution on Robert
Mayer.7 I shall remain silent on the extremely bitter controversy,
between Tvndall and Tait, regarding Mayer's researches.8 Tait and
William Thomson placed a low estimate on Mayer's work and brought
the charge that Tvndall, by praising Mayer, was belittling the work of
Joule. One would suppose that gross historical errors would have
been eliminated by this time from a subject like the conservation of
energy, about which so much has been written. Such is not the case.
Professor E. T. Glazebrook, writing in the great " Dictionary of
National Biography" (article, "Joule"), said in 1892, just before
the publication of Mayer's correspondence, that Mayer in 1842 en-
deavored to measure the heat produced in the compression of air, but
committed the very serious mistake of assuming without experimental
evidence that " all the mechanical energy spent in compressing the air
was used in producing change of temperature." This same criticism
was passed upon Mayer by Joule, Tait and Helmholtz. A funda-
mental question is here involved, but the charge is not true. As early
as September 12, 1841, in a. letter to his friend Professor Baur, Mayer
explained Gay-Lussac's experiment of 1807 on the flow of gas into a
vacuum, and drew upon it to complete his argument on the equivalence
of the work of compression and the heat generated by the compression.
Gay-Lussac had found that when a gas expands into a vacuum it under-
goes no change in temperature large enough to be detected by his
thermometers. Hence, during compression practically all the work
done upon the gas goes to produce change of temperature, and Mayer's
argument is sound. That the criticism of Mayer's reasoning is invalid
is not generally known to recent writers on the subject, but can now
be verified by any one who will examine Mayer's collected works and
letters, edited by Weyrauch in 1893.9 It should be added, however,
that Mayer himself is partly to blame for the strictures passed upon his
paper of 1812. Gay-Lussac is not mentioned and the whole matter is
disposed of in a single sentence, though that sentence, we admit, is
somewhat Germanic in its structure and linear dimensions.

publications became known, consult " Die Mechanische Warmetheorie," von R.
Clausius, dritte umgearbeitete und vervollstandigte Auflage, Erster Band,
Braunschweig, 1887, pp. 394-403.

7 Proceedings of the Royal Institution, June, 1862; Philosophical Magazine,
Vol. 24, p. 57.

8 See Thomson and Tait's article in the Philosophical Magazine, April, 1863,
and various articles by them and Tyndall in Vols. 25 and 26 of the Philosoph-
ical Magazine, as well as translations into English of Mayer's papers.

9"Kleinere Schriften u. Briefe," p. 131; " Mechanik der Warme," pp. 53,
130, 269.

ioo POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Mayer's failure to secure recognition from the scientific public
found its counterpart on a smaller scale with Joule and Helmholtz.

Joule was the son of a wealthy brewer. In 1830 he saw the first
trains which traveled between Liverpool and Manchester. One of the
happy circumstances of his boyhood life was his connection with John
Dalton and Dalton's laboratory containing effective home apparatus.
His association with Dalton gave direction to his constructive genius.
Joule's father fixed up a room for a chemical laboratory. Before the
boy was of age he began experimentation in chemistry and electricity.

After laborious tests he succeeded in showing that the heat
developed by the union of two chemical elements effected in a bat-
tery is the same as that developed by combustion, and that the heat
has a definite equivalent in the electromotive force between these
elements.10 He studied the relations between electrical, chemical
and mechanical effects and was led to the great discovery of the
mechanical equivalent of heat. In a paper read before the British
Association in 1843 he gave the number as 460 kilogrammeters. This
was only one year after Mayer had published his first paper. Friends
who recognized the physicist in the young brewer persuaded him to
become a candidate for the professorship of natural philosophy at
St. Andrews, Scotland, but his slight personal deformity was an objec-
tion in the eyes of one of the electors and he did not receive the
appointment.

The early papers of Joule attracted little attention. His facts
were so novel, so apparently heterodox, and the language in which
they were conveyed so unfamiliar, that the older physicists permitted
them to remain without due consideration. Faraday was then busy
with his experimental researches. Graham was studying the diffusion
of gases. Wheatstone, Whewell, Herschel, Forbes, Airy were engrossed
with problems of their own. Those who were first to applaud Joule a
few years later were still pupils. William Thomson and Gabriel
Stokes were at Cambridge; Bankine, a youth of 22, was studying engi-
neering; Tait was a boy at school; Clerk Maxwell had just acquired
the nickname of " Dafty " at Edinburgh Academy. In 1844 a paper
of Joule, " On the Changes of Temperature produced by the Baref ac-
tion and Condensation of Air," was rejected for publication by the
Boyal Society, but was printed in the Philosophical Magazine the year
following.11

In April, 1847, Joule gave a popular lecture in Manchester, deliv-
ering the first full and clear exposition in England of the universal
conservation of that principle now called energy.12

10 "Memoir of James Preseott Joule," by Osborne Reynolds, 1892, p. 50.

11 Reynolds, op. cit., p. 78.

12 Reynolds, op. cit., pp. 104, 105.

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY 101

The local press would at first have nothing to do with it. One
paper refused to give even a notice of it. The Manchester Courier,
after long debate, published the address in full. In June, 1847, the
subject was presented before the British Association meeting at Oxford.
The chairman suggested that the author be brief. ISTo discussion was
invited. In a moment the section would have passed on to other mat-
ters without giving the new ideas any consideration, if a young man
had not risen from his seat and by his intelligent observations created
a lively interest in the new theory. The young man was William
Thomson, now better known as Lord Kelvin. The result was that the
paper caused a great sensation. Joule had attracted the attention of
scientific men. After the meeting Joule and Thomson discussed the
subject further and the latter obtained ideas he had never had before.

Joule experimented on the mechanical equivalent of heat for about
forty years. By magneto-electric currents he got in 1843 the value
of 460 kilogrammeters as the equivalent of the large French calorie.
By the friction of water in tubes he obtained 424.9; by the compres-
sion of air, in 1845, 443.8; by the friction of water he obtained, in
1845, 488.3; 'in 1847, 428.9; in 1850, 423; in 1878, 423.

Comparing Joule with Mayer, it will probably be admitted now-
adays that Joule stands first as an experimentalist, while Mayer towers
above Joule as a generalizer, as a physical philosopher.

The same year, 1847, in which Joule announced his views on energy
before the British Association, Helmholtz, a youth of 26, read before
the Physical Society in Berlin a *paper on the same subject, entitled,
" Die Erhaltung der Kraft." It was at first pronounced a fantastic
speculation. The editor of Poggendorff's Annalen, who in 1841 de-
clined Mayer's paper, rejected Helmholtz's also. As Joule was sup-
ported by William Thomson, so- Helmholtz was defended by his fellow-
student Du Bois-Beymond, and by the mathematician C. G. J. Jacobi.
Helmholtz's paper was published in pamphlet form in 1847. For a
time it attracted little notice, but in 1853 some parts in it were vigor-
ously attacked by Clausius in Poggendorff's Annalen. Later it sub-
jected its author to bitter attacks from Eugen Karl Diihring13 and
others, who accused him of being a dishonest borrower from his fore-
runner, Bobert Mayer. In a publication of 1898, issued in Berlin,
Dr. Thomas Gross does not quite accuse Helmholtz of plagiarism, but
claims that Helmholtz did all he could to discredit Mayer. In my
judgment both Diihring and Gross failed to establish their contentions.
In the absence of clear evidence to the contrary we prefer to accept
Helmholtz's own statement, as given in one of his lectures. Helm-
holtz says in one place, " The first who saw truly the general law here

13 Dr. E. K. Diihring, " Robert Mayer, der Galilei des Neunzehnten Jahrhun-
derts," Chemnitz, 1880; Zweiter Theil, Leipzig, 1895.

io2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

referred to and expressed it correctly was a German physician, J. E.
Mayer, of Heilbronn, in the year 1842." Then he says, " I myself,
without being acquainted with Mayer or Colding, and having first
made the acquaintance of Joule's experiments at the end of my investi-
gations, followed the same path." 14

We have now briefly sketched the birth of the principle of the con-
servation of energy in the minds of Mayer, Joule and Helmholtz.
After examining the facts we are convinced that these great physicists
were independent discoverers. Lack of time prevents us from making
reference to forerunners like Count Rum ford,15 Sadi Carnot,16 Seguin,17
Mohr18 and to the Dane, named Colding,19 who in 1843 gave utterance
to the law before the Academy in Copenhagen. We pass by the
researches of Rankine, to whom we owe the expression, " conservation
of energy," as well as William Thomson's doctrine of the " dissipation
of energy."

We come now to the second part of this paper — the application of
the conservation of energy and other principles of physics to the exam-
ination of the age of the sun and of the earth. The two problems are
closely interrelated; the earth-age is measurable by the sun-age.

Before the time of the Scotch geologist, James Hutton, some 6,000
years was believed to indicate the age of the earth, and, indeed, of the
entire universe. The advent of the uniformitarian school of geologists
marks a radical departure from the old estimates. The pendulum
swings from one extreme to the other. Boundless distances of time
were now drawn upon. So great an antiquity of the earth seemed to
reveal itself to geologists, as to defy all attempts at measurement. In
the further pursuit of Hutton' s line of investigation, Play fair and
Lyell were unable to discover among the records of the earth and in
planetary motion either a beginning or an end of the present order of
things. They found no indication of infancy or decaying old age.20

This convenient doctrine of infinite durability came to be rudely
attacked by the physicists. Here, as in the history of the conservation
of energy, the earliest investigator is Robert Mayer. To be sure, he

""Popular Lectures," by H. Helmholtz (transl. by E. Atkinson), New
York, 1897, p. 1G7.

15 "The Complete Works of Count Rumford," published by the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences, Boston, Vol. I., pp. 481-488.

16 " Reflexions sur la puissance motrice du feu," 1824, reprinted in Ostwalds
Klassiker, No. 37; English translation by R. H. Thurston appeared in 1890.

17 "De L'influence des Chemins de Fer," Paris, 1839, pp. 378-397.

18 " Allgem. Theorie der Bewegung," Braunschweig, 18G9, pp. 80-84.

19 A. Colding, Det. Kongel. dansk vidensk. selsk. naturv. ogmath. afh. (5),
II., 1843, p. 121, 167.

20 Sir Archibald Geikie, presidential address before British Association, in
Report, British Association for the Advancement of Science, 1892, Vol. 62, pp.
3-26; Smithsonian Report, 1892, p. 124.

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY 103

did not attempt an estimate of the age of the solar system, but he
discussed the preliminary question as to the source of solar heat. As
soon as Mayer had convinced himself that energy can not be destroyed,
and that the energy of the earth comes mainly from the sun, he began
to study what Sir William Herschel had called " the great secret " of
the maintenance of solar heat. In 18-11, before the publication of his
first paper, he asked questions relating to solar heat, in a letter to
Baur, " Is it the glowing of the sun ? Why does he not cool off ?
Is it a burning depending upon willing meteoric stones ? " 21

In 1816 he had a paper ready on this subject. Being reminded by
a friend that no one can be a prophet in his own country, he sent the
paper to the Academy of Sciences in Paris. A committee of the
academy was directed to report on this paper, but it failed to do so
and the paper was ignored. It could be published only at his own
expense. It appeared in 1818 under the title, " Celestial Dynamics."
Mayer concludes that the sun can not be a glowing mass, sending out
radiation without compensation; solar heat can not be due entirely to
chemical changes; solar heat can not be due to solar rotation. He
finally embraces the theory that solar heat is due to the energy of
meteors falling into the sun. He did not overlook the fact that the
resulting increase of mass of the sun would increase its attraction for
the planets, and would shorten the sidereal year. He knew that ob-
servation does not disclose any variation in the length of the year.
An easy explanation would be offered by Newton's corpuscular theory
of light, ^according to which the sun sends out matter into space. But
this theory was then known to be untenable. In this dilemma Mayer
takes refuge in an idea which rests on a misconception of the unclula-
tory theory of light, and he offers an explanation which is now easily
recognized as invalid.

From Mayer we pass to William Thomson, the late Lord Kelvin,
who, six years later, took up the very same problem and arrived inde-
pendently at almost identically the same conclusions. That solar heat
may be due to falling meteors was first suggested in England by
Waterston. Unlike Mayer, Thomson sees no objection to the increase
in the sun's mass resulting from meteoric showers, for, " according to
the form of the gravitation theory " which he proposed, " the added mat-
ter is drawn from a space where it acts on the planets with very nearly
the same forces as when incorporated in the sun." In an appendix to
the paper, Thomson ventures an estimate of the age of the sun. This is
the first attempt, made by a physicist, to compute the age of our great
luminary and to prepare a mortuary estimate of it. He goes on the
supposition that the solar energy of rotation is derived from the energy •
of falling meteors. He calculates that, allowing for the constant loss

21 " Mechanik der Warme," p. 146.

104 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of solar energy by radiation, the sun could acquire its present energy
of rotation in thirty-two thousand years. From an estimate of the
limited amount of meteoric matter available near the sun, he concludes
that " sunlight can not last as at present for three hundred thousand
years." This calculation of the year 1854 attracted no attention at
the time. Later, the theory was abandoned by its author, as at vari-
ance with known facts.

Evidently the theory of solar heat was still in a very crude form.
But important new ideas were brought into view in the same year,
1854, by Helmholtz, in a popular lecture at Konigsberg, delivered on
the occasion of the Kant commemoration.22 Unlike Mayer and Thom-
son, he starts out with the nebular hypothesis of Kant and Laplace,
and derives solar heat from nebular contraction. During the contrac-
tion of the nebula from which sun and planets were formed, and also
during the contraction of the sun, now assumed to be in progress, the
kinetic energy obtained thereby is converted into heat and compensates
for the loss of solar heat by radiation. He concludes that if the sun
contracts the ten-thousandth part of its radius enough heat is gen-
erated to supply radiation for 2,100 years.23 His figures yield twenty-
two million years as the probable age of the sun, on the assumption of
uniform radiation and homogeneous density. Experimental data on
the intensity of solar radiation, found later by Langley, reduced this
age to eighteen million or less.

Helmholtz's theory was a tremendous advance on that of falling
meteors, assumed by Mayer and Thomson. No doubt meteors fall into
the sun, as assumed by Mayer and Thomson, but the Mayer-Thomson
theory made demands upon these meteors that bordered on extrava-
gance. We are certain that a part of the solar heat is due to falling
meteors, but its amount is as nothing, compared with the heat result-
ing from the gravitational energy of shrinkage. Until recently these
were the only important sources considered.

In the sixties fresh attacks were made on the problem of the age of
the sun by William Thomson. In 1862 appeared in the Macmillan's
Magazine an article, " On the Age of the Sun's Heat," 24 in which he
favors a meteoric theory like that of Helmholtz, by which there is no
difficulty in accounting for 20,000,000 years' heat radiated by the sun.
He concludes that we may accept " as a lowest estimate for the sun's
initial heat, 10,000,000 times a year's supply at present rate, but 50,-
000,000 or 100,000,000 as possible, in consequence of the sun's greater

22 H. Helmholtz, "Popular Lectures" (transl. by E. Atkinson), New York,
1897, pp. 153-193, " On the Interaction of Natural Forces."

23 Op. cit., p. 190.

21 Sir William Thomson's " Popular Lectures and Addresses," Vol. I., 1891,
pp. 356-375.

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY 105

density in his central parts."25 " As for the future, . . . inhab-
itants of the earth can not continue to enjoy the light and heat essen-
tial to their life, for many million years longer, unless sources now
unknown to us are prepared in the great store-house of creation."
More detailed studies of the same subject were made in 1887, in a
lecture " On the Sun's Heat," delivered before the Eoyal Institution
of Great Britain.26

In this lecture Sir William Thomson refers to a very able paper,
" On the Theoretical Temperature of the Sun," by J. Homer Lane,27
of Washington, which establishes the apparently paradoxical statement
that, within certain limitations, the more heat a gaseous body loses by
radiation, the hotter it will become. This theorem was discussed in
connection with the solar heat by Benjamin Peirce,28 Simon New-
comb29 and Sir Robert Ball.30 Results similar to Lane's were reached
in the years 1878-83 in a series of very exhaustive papers by A.
Bitter.31 A rival to the Helmholtz-Thomson theory of solar heat was
advanced about 1882 by William Siemens,32 who imagined the rotating
sun to hurl, by centrifugal action at his equator, enormous quantities
of gas into space, which returned to him again at the poles.

A refinement of the theory as presented by Helmholtz was intro-
duced in 1899 by T. J. J. See,33 wherein he abandoned the Helm-
holtzian hypothesis of a sun of homogeneous density and, using Lane's
law, investigated minutely the more complex case of central condensa-
tion. Thereby the probable solar age was extended from about 18
to about 32 million years.

Returning to the problem of the age of the earth, considered inde-
pendently of the sun, we find William Thomson the great moving
spirit. He approached the subject from more than one point of view.
One argument for limitation of the earth's age was based on the con-
sideration of underground heat.34 " The heat which we know by

25 Op. cit., p. 375.

26 Op. cit., pp. 376-429.

"American Journal of Science, 2d S., Vol. 50, 1870, pp. 57-74.

28 Proceed. Am. Acad., XV., p. 201.

29 "Popular Astronomy," 1st ed., p. 508; "The Stars," New York, 1901,
p. 210.

30 "Story of the Heavens," London, 1893, p. 497.

31 Wiedemann's Annalen, V., p. 405; X., p. 13; XI., p. 978; XII., p. 445;
XIIL, p. 360; XIV., p. 16; XVI., p. 166; XVII., p. 322; XVIIL, p. 488;
XX., pp. 137, 897. See Rosenberger, " Geschichte der Physik," Vol. III., 1887,
pp. 689, 690.

32 " Ueber die Erhaltung der Sonnenenergie," Uebersetzt von C. E. Worms,
Berlin, 1885; see Rosenberger, "Geschichte der Physik," Vol. III., p. 687.

33 Science, N. S., Vol. IX., 1899, pp. 737-740.

34 W. Thomson, " The Doctrine of Uniformity in Geology Briefly Refuted,"
read in 1865 before the Royal Society of Edinburgh. See Smithsonian Report,
1897, p. 343.

io6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

observation to be now conducted out of the earth yearly is so great
that if this action had been going on with any apparent uniformity,
the history of life on the earth could not exceed a few thousand million
years." Another consideration leading to similar conclusions was
based on the shape and rigidity of the earth. With Sir William
Thomson, the age of the earth continued to be a question studied with
great predilection. His aim was not so much to determine the exact
age as to fix an upper age limit. As the years passed by, investiga-
tion supplied much of the knowledge which was at first wanting regard-
ing the thermal properties of rocks, and Sir William Thomson was able
greatly to reduce this upper limit.

" The Physical Condition of the Earth " was the topic of Sir
William Thomson's presidential address in 1876, before Section A of
the British Association. He took the gradual increase of temperature
downwards to be on an average 1° C. for 30 meters of descent and
gave reasons for his belief that for great depths the rate of increase
does not diminish. He concludes that if at great depths the tempera-
ture does not exceed 4,000° C, then the geological age of the earth
does not exceed 90 million years. This argument involves some very
uncertain factors. Sir William Thomson has shown quite conclusively
that the earth's interior is solid, but at what temperature the substance
of the earth would begin to melt under the high internal pressures was
a matter of pure conjecture.

About 1885 Carl Barus, of the United States Geological Survey,
made a series of very important experimental researches on the phys-
ical properties of rocks at high temperatures, for the purpose of sup-
plying trustworthy data for geological theory.35 Mr. Clarence King,
in an article published in the American Journal of Science/5 used the
data on specific heats, thermal conductivities and temperatures of
fusion of rocks, which had been supplied by Barus, for a more accurate
determination of the age of the earth. King concludes from these
experimental data on diabase, " that we have no warrant for extending
the earth's age beyond 24,000,000 years." A computation made by
Lord Kelvin led to about the same figure.37 These results were em-
bodied by him in his address of 1897 before the Victoria Institute.

What was the attitude of geologists toward these researches? In
England, geologists did not pretend to be able to find any flaw in the
argument of Lord Kelvin, but they were in a position described in the
well-known couplet,

" A man convinced against his will
Is of the same opinion still."

35 Am. Jour, of Science, 3d S., Vol. 42, p. 498; Vol. 43, p. 56.
38 "On the Age of the Earth," 3d S., Vol. 45, 1893, pp. 1-20. See also
Smithsonian Report, 1897, p. 345.

37 Smithsonian Report, 1897, p. 346.

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY 107

To the geologist, yonder snow-capped peaks symbolized eternity; to
the physicist, the mountains were as transient as the clouds.

A calm statement of the geologists' attitude was made before the
British Association in 1892 by Sir Archibald Geikie.38 In one place
he expresses himself as follows :

Lord Kelvin is willing, I believe, to grant us some twenty millions of
years, but Professor Tait would have us content with less than ten millions.
... I frankly confess that the demands of the early geologists for an unlim-
ited series of ages were extravagant . . . and that the physicist did good
service in reducing them. . . . That there must be some flaw in the physical
argument I can, for my own part, hardly doubt, though I do not pretend to be
able to say where it is to be foimd. Some assumption, it seems to me, has been
made, or some consideration has been left out of sight, which will eventually
be seen to vitiate the conclusions, and which when duly taken into account
will allow time enough for any reasonable interpretation of the geological
record.

Five years later an American geologist, Professor T. C. Chamber-
lin, invaded the domain of physics and made a vigorous attack on
Lord Kelvin's argument, challenging the correctness of some of his
assumptions.39 This criticism did not secure the attention it deserved,
for scientific events soon took a different turn.

Lord Kelvin's address of 1897 is permeated, as Professor Chamber-
lin puts it, " with an air of retrospective triumph and a tone of
prophetic assurance." " It is only by sheer force of reason," says
Kelvin, "that geologists have been compelled to think otherwise, and
to see that there was a definite beginning and to look forward to a
definite end of this world as an abode fitted for life." Nor was this
feeling of retrospective triumph confined to Lord Kelvin or to the
students of the problem of the age of the sun and earth. At the close
of the century physicists and chemists gloried in the triumphs of their
predecessors, in such achievements as are indicated by the words " con-
servation of energy," " conservation of mass," and " atomic theory."
In physical research the nineteenth century was a golden age. It pro-
duced Faraday, Helmholtz, Mayer, Joule, Kelvin, Eayleigh, Eowland
and many other great men. With the close of the century timid souls
doubtless feared that the golden age had come to a close, and they per-
haps experienced strange emotions like those attributed to Adam in
the Garden of Eden, on seeing the sun go down, not knowing that it
would ever rise again.

Others were perhaps haunted by another fear — a feeling that the
great and fundamental truths of science were all revealed to the full
sight of man, and it now remained only to work out the less important

38 Smithsonian Report, 1892, p. 125.

39 Science, N. S., Vol. IX., pp. 889-901; Vol. X., pp. 11-18, 1899. Reprinted
in Smithsonian Report, 1899, pp. 223-246.

108 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

details. Some doubtless felt disheartened because of lack of oppor-
tunity, as did the Edinburgh anatomist, Dr. John Barclay a century
ago. Dr. Barclay looked upon the great anatomists of earlier periods
as " reapers who, entering upon untrodden ground, cut down great
store of corn from all sides of them. . . . Then come the gleaners who
gather up ears enough from the bare ridges to make a few loaves of
bread. Last of all come the geese, who still continue to pick up a
few grains scattered here and there among the stubble, and waddle
home in the evening, poor things, cackling with joy because of their
success." But the history of science shows that Dr. Barclay's reapers,
gleaners and geese do not belong to separate epochs. They are con-
temporaneous. The reaping, gleaning and cackling go on as a rule
in the same field, all at one time, in a grand comic medley of sounds.
It is certain that anatomists had not so nearly exhausted their field
one hundred years ago as Dr. Barclay believed that they had.

We are told that, about 1878, the president of a certain chemical
society informed his hearers in an annual address that the age of dis-
covery in chemistry was closed, and that henceforth we had better
devote ourselves to a thorough classification of chemical phenomena.
But at that very time Crookes was experimenting in England on high
vacua, and the year following he electrified the British Association by
his brilliant experiments on " radiant matter." Then came the Lenard
rays and in 1895 the Boentgen rays, in 1896 the Becquerel rays and in
1899 radium, with its mysterious radiation. This was followed by the
report that probably all matter is slightly radio-active. The study of
these phenomena has shaken the old atomic theory, and calls for a
reexamination of the principle of the conservation of energy and of
matter. The earthquake in San Francisco did not shake buildings so
violently as did these new facts shake the great edifice of physical
science. The principle of the constancy of matter was called in ques-
tion in an experiment of Kaufmann on particles shot off from radium.40
This experiment is hard to interpret, but I am not aware that J. J.
Thomson, or Butherford, or Soddy, or Boltwood, is denying the in-
destructibility of matter. One French experimentalist, however,
LeBon,41 has advanced the new theory of the destructibility of matter
to explain the new phenomena. He advances his new theory as a
demonstrated fact, and assumes to speak ex cathedra, when others
observe extreme caution. Were he advancing the destructibility of
matter merely as a working hypothesis, few could complain; but he
puts it forward as a firmly rooted fact.

40 See J. J. Thomson, "Conduction of Electricity through Gases," 1903,
p. 534.

"Dr. Gustave Le Bon, "The Evolution of Matter" (translated by F.
Legge), 1907, Charles Scribner's Sons.

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY 109

The principle of the conservation of energy has quite withstood all
attacks. To be sure, Le Bon claims to have overthrown it, too,42 but
the validity of his argument is questionable. Even scientists some-
times play with logic. You have heard the story of the Assyriologist
who argued : " The Assyrians understood electric telegraphy, because
we have found wire in Assyria." " Oh," replied the Egyptologist,
" we have not found a scrap of wire in Egypt, so we know the Egyp-
tians understood wireless telegraphy."

In the presidential address before the British Association in 1907,
Professor E. B. Lankester uttered the following weighty words : " The
kind of conceptions to which these and like discoveries have led the
modern physicist in regard to the character of that supposed unbreak-
able body — the chemical atom — the simple and unaffected friend of
our youth — are truly astounding. But I would have you notice that
they are not destructive of our previous conceptions, but rather elab-
orations and developments of the simpler views, introducing the notion
of structure and mechanism, agitated and whirling with tremendous
force, into what we formerly conceived of as homogeneous or simply
built-up particles, the earlier conception being not so much a positive
assertion of simplicity as a non-committal expectant formula awaiting
the progress of knowledge and the revelations which are now in our
hands." 43

This same address touches questions of cosmical physics. It says:

Radium has been proved to give out enough heat to melt rather more than
its own weight of ice every hour; enough heat in one hour to raise its own
weight of water from the freezing point to the boiling-point. . . . Even a small
quantity of radium diffused through the earth will suffice to keep up its tem-
perature against all loss by radiation! If the sun consists of a fraction of one
per cent, of radium, this will account for and make good the heat that is an-
nually lost by it.

He continues to say:

This is a tremendous fact, upsetting the calculations of physicists as to
the duration in past and future of the sun's heat and the temperature of the
earth's surface. The physicists, notably Professor Tait and Lord Kelvin, . . .
have assumed that its material is self-cooling. ... It has now, within these
last five years, become evident that the earth's material is not self-cooling, but
on the contrary self-heating. And away go the restrictions imposed by physi-
cists on geological time. They now are willing to give us not merely a thou-
sand million years, but as many more as we may want.

Some of the views relating to radium, expressed in the summer of
1906 at the York meeting of the British Association, appeared to Lord
Kelvin open to objection. It seemed to him that some of the younger

4= Le Bon, op. cit., pp. 17, 18, 53, 54.

43 E. Ray Lankester, inaugural address before British Association, Nature,
Vol. 74, 1906, p. 325.

no POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

men were carried away by the strangeness of the new phenomena and
were ready to adopt the most extravagant theories when there was no
logical necessity for abandoning old views and, in their intoxication,
were embracing new hypotheses without exercising due circumspection.
After the meeting Lord Kelvin boldly opened a controversy in the
London Times. Almost single-handed the old warrior fought with
great intellectual keenness against the transmutational and evolutionary
doctrines, relating to the chemical elements, framed by the younger
investigators, to account for the properties of radium.44 Among his
opponents were Sir Oliver Lodge, the Hon. Mr. Strutt, Mr. A. S.
Eve and Mr. F. Soddy. It can not be said that Kelvin was victorious,
but the controversy helped to define the points at issue. Among other
things, Lord Kelvin said that there was no experimental foundation
for the assertion that the heat of the sun was probably due to radium.
He was still inclined to ascribe it to gravitation. Lord Kelvin also
denied that it was proved that the heat of the earth is due to radium.
It was possible, he claimed, that radium does not decompose under the
conditions prevailing in the interior of the earth, and in that case it
emits no heat.

In considering the perturbations produced by radium in the prog-
ress of our ideas, it is well to remember that, thus far, we have been
able to experiment with radium in only small amounts. Professor
Lankester remarks that the Curies never had enough of radium chlo-
ride to venture on any attempt to prepare pure metallic radium.

Altogether the Curies did not have more than some four or five grains of
chloride of radium to experiment with, and the total amount prepared and now
(1906) in the hands of scientific men in various parts of the world probahly
does not amount to more than 60 grains at most. When Professor Curie lec-
tured on radium four years ago at the Royal Institution in London he made
use of a small tube an inch long and of one-eighth inch bore, containing nearly
the whole of his precious store, wrenched by such determined labour and con-
summate skill from tons of black shapeless pitch-blende. On his return to
Paris he was one day demonstrating in his lecture room with this precious tube
the properties of radium when it slipped from his hands, broke, and scattered
far and wide the most precious and magical powder ever dreamed of by al-
chemist or artist of romance. Every scrap of dust was immediately and care-
fully collected, dissolved, and re-crystallised, and the disaster averted with
a loss of but one minute fraction of the invaluable product.45

In a reinvestigation of the age of the earth it is extremely impor-
tant to undertake extensive investigation of the amount of radium
contained in the various rocks. Such researches have been begun by
the Hon. E. J. Strutt. He has made determination of the amount
of radium in rocks at the surface of the earth, and has found about

"See Nature, Vol. 74, 1906, pp. 516-518.
46 Nature, Vol. 74, 1906, p. 323.

HISTORY OF THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY m

3 X 10"12 grains of radium as the average amount present in 1 c.e.
of soil.

From the rate of increase of temperature below the earth's surface
and the heat conductibility of rocks, Mr. Strutt concludes that radium
is confined to a comparatively thin crust of the earth. While these
reasons are not conclusive, they are weighty. Our incomplete knowl-
edge of the properties and the distribution of radium and other radio-
active substances, makes it necessary to suspend judgment on the age
of the earth. There is no necessity that the question be settled
immediately.

The same remark applies to the antiquity of the sun. Much de-
pends upon the presence or absence of radium there. As yet this sub-
stance has not been found in the sun, but the presence of helium, com-
bined with the fact that helium may be obtained from radium, renders
the presence of radium in the sun quite probable. That radium affects
the problem of the solar age was pointed out by Mr. G. H. Darwin in
the following words :46

Knowing, as we now do, that an atom of matter is capable of containing
an enormous store of energy in itself, I think we have no right to assume that
the sun is incapable of liberating atomic energy to a degree at least com-
parable with that which it would do if made of radium. Accordingly, I see no
reason for doubting the possibility of augmenting the estimate of solar heat as
derived from the theory of gravitation by some such factor as ten or twenty.

In conclusion, it is very evident that, however unpleasant it may
be for the older men to revise their theories to meet the demands of
new observations, we have in radio-activity the entrance into a region
of new knowledge which will cast light upon many a dingy avenue of
philosophy. Great are the trials and great the final triumphs of experi-
mental science.

In Norse m}Tthology there is a wonderful tree called Igdrasil, whose
branches spread over the whole earth and reach up into the clouds.
At the foot of the tree, away down at the deepest root, is a well from
which the tree draws its sap. To us of the twentieth century that
tree symbolizes science. The well which nourishes the tree is the
fountain of eternal truth.

46 Nature, Vol. 68, 1903, p. 496.

V

ii2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII

Bx Phofessob T. D. A. COCKERELL

UNIVERSITY OF COLOEADO

IN" attempting to trace the evolution of plants and animals, the
naturalist finds himself continually regretting what is called
" the imperfection of the geological record." Of all the creatures
which have lived and died upon the earth, only a very small propor-
tion have left any record in the rocks ; and since the remains are widely
scattered and belong to very diverse periods of time, anything like a
complete consecutive series is usually unattainable. It is somewhat
as though the student of languages of some future age might be obliged
to depend for his knowledge of the English tongue upon small frag-
ments of the pages of Webster's Dictionary, perhaps about an inch
square for each page. He would gather his precious scraps together,
and by diligently comparing them, would readily deduce a number of
things about the construction of the language. He would feel able to
restore, in some measure, a certain proportion of the missing words,
forming derivatives according to the rules he had been able to ascer-
tain. But how he would long for a single complete page ! — for a
single series actually presenting to him the different modifications and
amplifications of some root in all their richness and variety.

Each year witnesses an increasing number of paleontological dis-
coveries, so that the incomplete series in our museums are gradually
becoming more complete and more representative of the actual course
of evolution. In some well-known instances, such as those of the horse
and elephant groups, the successive stages are now so well known that
it is not very difficult for imagination to supply the connecting links;
but in others the record is either a total blank or a miserable scrap
merely sufficient to awaken curiosity. Take, for instance, the butter-
flies. According to Dr. D. Sharp, the living species of butterflies
known to science number about 13,000, while it is not impossible that
30,000 or even 40,000 actually exist. Butterflies form such a large
and varied group, spread over nearly every part of the world where
vegetation grows, that it is certain that they have a long history behind
them, and that the total number of forms which have existed must run
into the hundreds of thousands. Yet the actual number of fossil but-
terflies so far discovered is only twenty-two ! Even this meager figure
is in a sense an exaggeration, inasmuch as many — indeed most — of the

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII

"3

^ossil Cai.yx of Porana tenuis.
(.The genus is now Asiatic. I

species are only partially known
from very incomplete fragments.
The paleontologist and the historian
not only desire to know how suc-
cessive events are related, but are
keenly alive to the necessity for de-
tailed information concerning the
contemporaneous events and objects
of any one period. Hence it is that
the uncovering of Pompeii and Her-
culaneum stirs the blood of the most
lethargic, for there is presented to
our gaze the actual life of nearly
two thousand years ago in all its
detail and variety. We know, per-
haps, that the ancients had certain
customs, used certain tools, enjoyed
particular kinds of art and litera-
ture; but to accurately restore their
daily life, even with the aid of many
brilliant descriptive passages left by
their writers, was a difficult feat for

the imagination. To find two cities
buried just as they stood at the
beginning of the Christian era is
not merely to gain an incalculably
precious insight into the life of, that
period, but to obtain a landmark of
the utmost service for comparisons,
both with earlier and later times.

For like reasons, the naturalist
may well look for earlier deposits
in which living animals and plants
are preserved somewhat as at Pom-
peii; and may feel thankful if in
all the world one or two such places
exist.

The most famous of such locali-
ties is CEninoen, on the north or
Baden side of a narrow arm of
Lake Constance leading to the
Pihine. The products of this won-
derful fossil-bed — or rather, succes-

VOT.. LXXII. — 8.

Fossil Land Snail (Yitrea
fagclis). (Enlarged.)

ii4 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

sion of fossil-beds — have been principally elucidated by Heer, who was
professor at the University of Zurich, and for many years the leading
authority on fossil plants and insects. There were found more than
450 different kinds of plants, over 470 species of insects, and many
fishes, reptiles and other animals. In America the corresponding
locality, much more recently discovered, and much less extensively
worked, is Florissant, in Colorado.

The first notice of Florissant as a locality for fossils was given by
Mr. A. C. Peale in the " Annual Eeport of the U. S. Geological Survey
of the Territories," in 1874. It was remarked that in the upper part
of the valley on the South Platte Eiver, a few miles from Pikes Peak,
there was an ancient lake basin, marked by extensive deposits in which
were found remains of leaves. In the years following, the place was
visited by various naturalists, several of whom made collections. In
1877, Dr. S. H. Scudder, accompanied by Messrs. Arthur Lakes, of
Golden, Colorado, and F. C. Bowditch, of Boston, spent the summer
there, and made an enormous collection, especially of fossil insects.
Mrs. Charlotte Hill, a resident of Florissant, also became interested,
and with the aid of the neighboring children gathered together many
valuable specimens, which are now to be found in various museums.
An expedition from Princeton University, including the well-known
paleontologists, W. B. Scott and H. F. Osborn, also went to Florissant,
and the collections obtained were in part sent to the British Museum,
and probably to other institutions. Another large collection was made
by Dr. G. Hambach, of St. Louis, Mo., forming the basis of a paper
on the fossil flora by Mr. W. C. G. Kirchner.

After a period of activity lasting a number of years, interest in
Florissant died down, and not only were the fossil beds neglected, but
hundreds of precious specimens already gathered were allowed to
remain hidden away in various museums and colleges unstudied. When
the material first came in, all the fossil plants were referred to Leo
Lesquereux, who was at that time the one great authority on paleo-
botany in this country. Lesquereux published many descriptions of
Florissant plants in his great works on the " Tertiary Flora " and
" Cretaceous and Tertiary Floras," issued in sumptuous form by the
U. S. Geological Survey in 1878 and 1883, respectively; while Dr.
Scudder took charge of the insects, and wrote several very important
monographs, the largest being that on " Tertiary Insects," published
by the Geological Survey in 1890. When Lesquereux died, and later
Dr. Scudder was incapacitated by paralysis from doing any further
work, it was natural that Florissant should be neglected, for these two
men were almost the sole authorities upon the subject. Furthermore,
although the Geological Survey had in former years used funds for the
Florissant work, and in particular had published the results at great

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII 115

expense, the fact that the latter were of no obvious value to the mining
or kindred interests led to a withdrawal of financial support. That the
restoration of the past — the discovery of the conditions which obtained
in Colorado perhaps a million years ago — is of no value to mankind
is a proposition which would scarcely be endorsed by any scientific
man ; but the fact remains that our present-day public makes a stronger
demand for cash than for philosophic illumination, and the latter must
often wait.

In the summer of 1905 the Florissant work was taken up anew by
the University of Colorado, and Judge J. Henderson and Dr. F.
Ramaley, of that institution, went there and collected a quantity of
material. In 1906 a new expedition, consisting of Dr. W. M. Wheeler,
of the American Museum of Natural History, and Mr. and Mrs. Cock-
erell and Mr. S. A. Eohwer, of Boulder, Colorado, spent a considerable
time excavating fossils; and in 1907 the work was carried on still more
extensively, with the financial cooperation of the American Museum
of Natural History, Yale University, the British Museum and the
University of Colorado. As a result, there has accumulated an almost
embarrassing amount of material, and many remarkable things have
been discovered.

Florissant is to-day a small town on the Midland Railroad of Colo-
rado, about as far west of Pikes Peak as Colorado Springs is east of
it. It is situated in an open valley or "park," surrounded by low
hills, and consisting mainly of rather barren grass-land, with moister
and even swamp areas along the creeks. The altitude is about 8,000
feet, and is far above the zone of oak bushes which forms such a con-
spicuous feature in the vicinity of Manitou. The hills are clothed with
an open forest of conifers, mostly pines, and owing to the dry and sunny
character of the locality, some of the southern plants, such as the
Spanish Bayonet or Yucca, grow in abundance, The town itself is
small, and exists principally for purposes connected with the railroad;
it is a shipping point for a certain amount of lumber, but in no sense
a mining center.

In ancient times — say about a million years ago — the valley was the
site of a beautiful lake — Lake Florissant. This body of water was
perhaps about nine miles long, but very narrow, and strongly indented
by wooded headlands at every point. Here and there were small
islands, upon which grew tall redwood trees and other vegetation. It
was just such a place as would have delighted the heart of Fenimore
Cooper and his hero of the Leatherstocking tales. The climate was
very different from that of modern Colorado; mild, warm and damp,
not unlike that of the uplands of our southern states. Yet the hills
were probably rather dry. for we find remains of plants suited to diverse
ecological conditions, from semi-arid uplands to swamps. Not far away

n6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

vapor and fumes arose from several volcanic vents, and at frequent
intervals there were showers of fine ash, while more rarely molten lava
escaped and flowed down the slopes into the lake. During the larger
eruptions, as has been recently witnessed at Martinique, there were
violent gusts of wind, and blazing cinders of various sizes fell on all
sides. Green branches were torn from the trees, and are found with the
leaves still attached in the shales; while many leaves are burned and
torn, and an abundance of charcoal testifies to the existence of forest
fires. The clouds of fine ash bore to the ground all winged insects and,
when falling in the shallow water of the lake, gave rise to layers of soft
mud and sand,, which, under the pressure of subsequent deposits, solidi-
fied into rock. In this way the shales were formed, the best being under
heavy flows of mud or lava, which compressed them and permitted the
preservation of the remains they contained, before decomposition had
gone too far. Within a limited area hot waters strongly charged with
silica surrounded and bathed the remains of the redwood trees, with the
result that these are now wonderfully preserved as fossil stumps, one of
them of great size.

In the course of ages, after the lake had disappeared, the streams
flowing through the valley cut out the soft shales and carried them in
fine particles to the Platte River, whence they found their way toward
the plains. It is sad to think of the thousands of magnificent fossils
which must have been thus destroyed — the infinitesimal fragments of
which are now scattered far and wide over the Colorado plains, or have
traveled perhaps to the Mississippi and the sea. The result of all this
destruction, however, has been favorable to the paleontologist in this
sense, that it makes the shales readily accessible at many points. Along
the sides of the valley, close to the old shore lines, the fossil-bearing
layers are plainly visible, and no doubt those which are preserved are
far richer than were those which occupied the middle of the lake. The
amount of the deposit still remaining is not known, but it must be very
great, so that its possibilities could not be more easily exhausted than
those of Herculaneum. Only a few places have been worked for any
length of time, while small outcrops, inviting investigation, are very
numerous. The work of uncovering the fossils is necessarily very slow.
First of all, the heavy cap of solid rock has to be removed — and the
farther one goes into the hillside, the greater it is — and then the shale
has to be split with a knife into fine layers, often with great difficulty.
With the utmost care, it is certain that many things will be lost, either
from not being observed when uncovered, or from the shale not split-
ting in the right places. It would not be practicable to have the work
done by untrained laborers, with the exception of the preliminary dig-
ging and shoveling, for they would destroy and lose far more than they
found. Frequently the most precious and perfect insect remains are

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII

117

1m

N

r

Fossil Tsetse Fly (Glossina oligocena) . The tsetse flies are no longer found

in America. (Much enlarged.)

scarcely visible at all, especially on the wet shale as it is dug out; but
under a strong lens they show every detail of the structure of the wings.
On the other hand, some specimens which superficially appear excellent
prove upon minute examination to be of small scientific value.

When the fossils have been obtained, it is no easy matter to deter-
mine and describe them. In the case of the plants, many species are
easily recognized and can be classified with much certainty; but there
are living species of oaks and maples, for example, which possess foliage
wholly unlike that which we usually associate with those names. A
maple from Japan, judged by its leaves, would be taken for a hornbeam ;
some oaks resemble willows. The commonest leaf in the shales was
considered by Lesquereux to be allied to the water elm of the southern
states; but we have found some pieces with the fruit attached, and it
seems to be a beech. Calyces, once supposed to belong to persimmon
or some allied plants, prove to be those of a poplar; while the giant
redwood itself was first introduced as a moss, from a fragment of a
twig !

The insects, when well preserved, offer much better characters than
most of the plants. Unfortunately, however, they are frequently in-
distinct or fragmentary, and the accurate determination of the remains
becomes extremely difficult. Only those who have worked on fossil
insects can appreciate at their proper value the tremendous labors of
Scudder, resulting in the description and classification of many hun-

n8

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

dreds of species. Sometimes very striking structural characters may
be observed; but when assistance is sought from the literature on living
forms, the student finds that characters of this class have been ignored,
and it is necessary to make a fresh study of the modern genera before
proceeding with the fossils. In order to do this, however, large collec-
tions are needed, and it is no easy matter to secure sufficient specimens.
Thus, in one way and another, the opportunities for error in the study
of fossil insects and plants are very many; so many, that it is easy to
become discouraged, and yield to the temptation to confine oneself to
the comparatively easy problems presented by modern types. In such
times of discouragement, however, the student may be cheered by the
discovery of some splendid thing, telling a tale beyond dispute; and so
he returns to his labors, determined to unravel the secrets of the past,
and to accept as philosophically as may be the inevitable results of his
inability io avoid a certain percentage of error.

In an effort to reconstruct the landscape of the Miocene period in
Colorado, we may well begin with the plants. The number of fossil
plants described from Florissant is not nearly so great as that from
(Eningen ; but the deposits of the latter locality are, apparently, not
so nearly contemporaneous; while, on the other hand, not nearly all
the Flor'ssant species that have been found have yet been published.
The collections of the 1907 expedition, rich in new materials, have only

■ ■■

ii

"*-».

i€

rJ< .

■* ',"

■i •"*'

• ■

■**.!

►XJ»*>! $&,

■•*."-ft •'

v V*

Fossil White Ant (Hodotermea coloradenaia of Scudder).

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII 119

•

recently been unpacked, and their study has scarcely more than begun.
The shores of the lake, while doubtless steep in places, must have
sloped gradually at many points, and there was much shallow water.
In this grew the broad-leafed cat-tail of those days, the Typha les-
quereuxi. The remains of its leaves are found in the greatest abun-
dance and upon some of them it has even been possible to detect a
fungus, which has been called Didymosphceria betheli. In the water
near the bases of the cat-tails was a duckweed. Water lilies have not
been found; a round water-lily-like leaf proves to belong to a semi-
aquatic plant, a kind of frog's-bit. A small rush, a species of J uncus,
scattered its fruits everywhere. Small fresh-water molluscs, similar to
those of the present day, abounded. There were bivalved forms
(Sphcerium), and representatives of the pond snails Lymncea and Plan-
orb is. Dragon-fly and May-fly nymphs were excessively numerous, espe-
cially the latter; while the adult insects flew along the shore. Minute
bivalved Crustacea were in myriads, but no crayfishes have been de-
tected, and there is no reason for supposing that any existed. In
slightly deeper water, there were innumerable fishes, and well-preserved
specimens of several species have been obtained. From the fish speci-
mens actually secured, one might suppose that these animals were
comparatively rare; but this idea is contradicted by the abundance of
their excrement, often containing ants and other insects which may
have been killed by the volcanic fumes or ash. It would seem, indeed,
that at the beginning of an eruption, the fishes gorged themselves with
the falling insects; but when things got too hot for them, they mostly
retreated in safety to deeper waters, where they escaped entombment.
No frogs or turtles have been obtained, much to our disappointment;
it is hardly to be supposed that there were none — we may rather antici-
pate that they will be unearthed by some happy collector of the future.
Near the shores, the principal trees were the narrow-leafed cottonwood
— differing little from the one common in Colorado to-day — a kind of
beech, Fagus longifolia, and a Myrica with slender twigs, which may
not have been more than a shrub. A little more distant from the water,
perhaps, were the redwoods, Sequoia haydeni, very like those growing
in California at the present time. Under or near the redwood grew
the incense cedar, a tree now confined to the Pacific coast (where it
still grows with Sequoia) and China, though a closely allied genus
occurs in the southern hemisphere. There were no firs or spruces,
but two or three species of pine trees were plentiful, probably upon the
tops of the little hills ; and a shrubby or tree-like juniper — like the
so-called cedar of modern Colorado — was a conspicuous object. The
warmth and dampness of the climate are indicated by an abundance of
ferns, such as may be seen in the forests along the Hudson at the
present time. Indeed, the whole aspect of the country must have been

I 20

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

much more like that of the forest region of the eastern states than any
part of Colorado to-day. After working at Florissant in the summer
of 1907, I had occasion to spend some time at Garrison-on-Hudson,
and as I daily went through the splendid woods of that region, it
seemed to me as if the flora of the shale had come to life. There was
the sweet fern, Comptonia, to-day confined to a single species of the
eastern United States; in Miocene times wide-spread, and represented
by two kinds at Florissant. There was the large-toothed aspen;
leaves with even larger teeth, but very similar, were found in the shales.
Then the chestnut — great chestnut leaves, of an undescribed species,
were among the best of our finds. So also the basswood, the walnut,
the ironwood, elm, hickory, holly and many other trees, now wholly

Fossil Febn (Phcgopteris guyottii).

absent from Colorado, but common to the Miocene shales and the east-
ern states. One of the most interesting of the fossils is the sweet-gum,
or Liquid ambar; a genus widely dispersed in the Miocene, from America
to Europe, while now its few scattered remnants are found in our
Atlantic coast region, in Mexico and Central America and in Asia.
On the other hand, the existing Eocky Mountain flora is represented
in the Florissant shales by species of oak, alder, birch, hackberry, bar-
berry, mock-orange or Philadelphia, maple, gooseberry, grape, rose,
hawthorn, mountain ash, willow, Virginia creeper, sumach and a num-
ber of others, showing that with all the change of climate which has
occurred, the flora has not been totally transformed.

No recognizable mammal has been obtained at Florissant; only a

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII

121

Fossil Soapberry Tree {Sapindua stellaricefolius).

few fragmentary remains, without a skull. There is no doubt that
mammals of many kinds abounded in the vicinity of the lake, and it is
very likely that some of them were entombed, their bones waiting to
be exhumed by eome fortunate paleontologist of the future.

Feathers are occasionally found, and two fairly complete birds have
been discovered, one a plover, the other apparently a finch. The fishes
already mentioned number eight species. Of molluscs, we know two
terrestrial species and four or five fresh-water ones. Thirty different
spiders have been described by Scudder, and we have found others.
The harvest spiders or phalangids, and the millipedes, are each repre-
sented by a single kind. It is for the insects, of course, that Florissant
is most famous, surpassing even (Eningen.

Mr. Scudder wrote:

The insects preserved in the Florissant basin are wonderfully numerous,
this one locality having yielded in a single summer more than double the
number of specimens which the famous localities at CEningen furnished Heer

122

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

in thirty years. Having visited both places, I can testify to the greater pro-
lificness of the Florissant beds. As a rule the CEningen specimens are better
preserved, but in the same amount of shale we still find at Florissant a much
larger number of satisfactory specimens than at CEningen, and the quarries are
fifty times as extensive and far more easily worked.

The total number of species of insects so far described from Floris-
sant is about seven hundred, but several hundreds have been found,
belonging to groups not yet worked up. The list, as it stands, contains
only a single ant, but, as a matter of fact, ants are much more abun-
dant than any other insects, at least in individuals. Those obtained
by Scudder, and also the materials secured by the recent expeditions,
are all in the hands of Dr. W. M. Wheeler, of the American Museum
of Natural History. His account of them will be of extraordinary
interest, based as it will be on the examination of thousands of speci-
mens by a naturalist fully competent to make them contribute, not

Fossil Incense Cedar (Heyderia coloradensis) with small piece of redwood

(Sequoia haydeni). (Enlarged.)

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII

123

merely to the science of myrmecology, but to wider biological theories
as well. It is, indeed, through the examination of myriads of speci-
mens representing particular periods in the history of the world, that
we may expect to solve some of the most difficult questions of evolution.
Scudder noticed that among certain of the groups of fossil insects there
were particular tendencies observable throughout, notwithstanding the
'fact that the species belonged to different groups. Legs had grown
longer, or wing-cells had shortened, since the Miocene, and different
series, already at that time quite separate and free from crossing, had
been affected in the same manner. The same sort of thing was later
remarked by Professor Osborn in the teeth of extinct animals, and he
became convinced that there were fundamental predispositions to vary
in particular directions. Theories of this sort, if completely verified,

Fossil Chestnut Leaf (Castancu doUchophyUu). Close to the leaf is also seen
a small freshwater shell (Phmorbis florissantcnsis).

would greatly affect our ideas of the process of evolution ; but the chief
need at present is for more light, derived from more and more diverse
groups of animals. Hence the study of the fossil insects, at first seem-
ing of purely entomological interest, is likely to lead to results of the
first importance.

While we thus search for trends of evolution, we note also the great
conservatism of insect types. It is well known that warm-blooded
animals have undergone great changes since the Miocene, one of them
being the evolution of man himself. In the case of the insects, how-
ever, the modifications have been slight indeed, even where these have
been driven far and wide by adverse changes of climate.

We find, it is true, a fair number of extinct genera; types which no
longer persist in the modern world; but these appear to be merely those
which have died out, not the ancestors of any modern kinds. None of

i24 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the species, of course, are supposed to agree with living ones ; but most
of the genera agree well, except in certain groups, like the plant lice,
in which there is a similar divergence throughout.

Owing to this singular constancy of fundamental structure, we are
able to ascertain that some striking types now confined to particular
parts of the world, were once very widely spread.

Perhaps the most remarkable instance of this sort is afforded by the
tsetse fly, Glossina. Scudder obtained from Florissant an imperfect
specimen of a large fly, which he regarded as representing a new genus
and species. We were so fortunate as to secure a much better example,
showing the long proboscis, and it was not difficult to recognize it as a
veritable tsetse fly. The species, of course, is extinct ; but the genus is
the same as that now confined to Africa, where it is dreaded as the
disseminator of some of the most terrible diseases known. What part
the existence of such flies may have played in the destruction of the
Tertiary mammalia we can only surmise; but it is not impossible that
their influence was great. How it happened that they disappeared
entirely from America and survived only on the Ethiopian continent
is, of course, unknown.

Another discovery, hardly less interesting, was a species of Neurop-
tera belonging to the family Nemopteridse. These insects are very
fragile and delicate, somewhat dragon-fly-like in form, but with the
most extraordinary hind wings — consisting of a long narrow stalk,
with a dark-fiddle-shaped expansion at the end. One species of this
family has been found in Chile, while others are known from the
warmer parts of the old world. The whole group has become extinct
in North America, but the fossil proves that it once existed there. Such
a fossil as this not merely throws a flood of light on the past migrations
of a peculiar group, but is the first and only indication we have of the
past history of its race.

Florissant is famous for its fossil butterflies, having nearly half
of the number known in that condition. My wife was particularly
anxious to find a fossil butterfly, and often as we went out to work, we
asked, would this be the day to yield the coveted treasure? Yet all
the first season passed, and no butterfly was obtained. Toward the
close of the second season, however, my wife sat down one day at a new
place, to see what it might be worth. She had scarcely begun to turn
ever the shale when, behold, a truly magnificent specimen ! It showed
the upper wings, the body and one antenna, the spotting still plainly
visible upon the wings. It proved to be an undescribed species, but
of a genus still existing in Colorado, though more common southward.
When compared with the Scudder collection, it was seen to be the
second finest of the butterflies, yielding place only to Scudder's in-

FLORISSANT; A MIOCENE POMPEII

i25

comparable Prodryas perseplionc. During the same season we secured
a second butterfly, much larger, but very poorly preserved.

When the fine butterfly was discovered, it was naturally expected
that the new locality would yield other like treasures. Alas ! it was
worked all one day, with practically no result. Such are the fortunes
of fossil hunting. While the first season yielded no butterfly, it did
produce a wonderfully preserved caterpillar, still showing the bristles
it bore in life. It is not the usual custom to describe a lepidopterous
insect from the caterpillar alone; but in this case we had no option,
since it could not be ignored, and it certainly could not be raised to
maturity ! Its characters were peculiar, so that it did not fit com-
fortably into any modern family, so far as we were able to judge.

Tfrifc..

A**-t**tju^t~ ^a

m.

Fossil Neuropterous Insect (Halter americana) of a Family not now found
in North America. (Much enlarged.)

Among the plants, one great treasure was a branch of the narrow-
leafed cottonwood, with about ten leaves upon it. Although the
leaves of this tree are exceedingly common in the shale, such a mag-
nificent specimen is very rarely obtained. During the second season
another nearly as good was found; we packed it up with the greatest
care, and sent it by express to Yale University Museum, where it ar-
rived in safety.

The large specimens, however, are not necessarily the most valuable.
One small but unique object was a tuft of moss, with the fruiting
bodies upon it. This was the first really recognizable moss ever found

i26 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

fossil in America, and it was appropriately transmitted for study to
Mrs. Britton of the New York Botanical Garden, the best authority on
American mosses. It may now be seen in the great Botanical Museum
in Bronx Park.

Flowers and fruits are quite numerous in the shale, though, un-
fortunately, nearly always detached from the plants, so that they can
not be correlated with the leaves. Some of them are very well pre-
served and easily recognizable; others, even though reasonably perfect,
have puzzled all the botanists who have examined them. One curious
specimen is a bean pod, with most of the beans still in it, but one just
in the act of falling out. Grass-seeds are often found, and we have
one which had just begun to sprout when it was overwhelmed by a
fall of ash.

CRIMES OF VIOLENCE

12 J

CRIMES OF VIOLENCE IX CHICAGO AND IN
GREATER NEW YORK

BY MAYNARD SHIPL1 Y
RENO, KEY.

u

HUMAN life is the cheapest thing in Chicago," recently declared
Judge Cleland. " This city," he asserted, " witnesses a
murder for every day in the year." Now 365 homicides a year would
mean, for Chicago, that one out of every 5,614 of her citizens is
destined to be murdered each year; or, in other words, that 17 in each
100,000 of the population would annually meet death at the hands
of a fellow citizen. This would place Chicago on a criminal level with
Lexington, Ky., where nearly 39 per cent, of the population are negroes.
In Chicago the negro element forms scarcely 2 per cent, of the total
inhabitants. As a matter of fact, however, whereas Lexington stands
first in the scale of American cities in respect to the ratio of deaths
by homicide to total population, Chicago stands about eighth in the
list, showing a lower record for homicides than either San Francisco
or Los Angeles, as may be seen in the accompanying table.

Table showing the Annual Average of Deaths by and Arrests for Homi-
cide in each 100,000 of Population, in Various Cities of the United
States, based on Reports of Health Officers and of Chiefs of Police.
(Most of the averages given are for a period of six years.)

Annual Average Annual Average

of Deaths by of Arrests lor

Homicide per Homicide per

100,000 of 100.000 of

City Population Population

Lexington, Ky 17.77 40.07

Kansas, Kan 17.64 18.27

Louisville, Ky 14.85 17.41

Cincinnati, O.1 14.28 6.9C

St. Louis, Mo 14.16 1 1.30

San Francisco, Cal 9.25 19.69

Los Angeles, Cal 9.00 4.86

Chicago, 111 7.30 6.87

Cleveland, 0 6.12 9.56

Greater New York 4.93 13.23

Indianapolis, Ind 4.18 4.74

Providence, R. 1 3.59 1.70

Baltimore, Md 3.39 7.74

Philadelphia, Pa 3.27 4.93

Boston, Mass 3.13 1.98

St. Paul, Minn 2.32 2.13

Newark, N. J.2 1.50 9.16

Milwaukee, Wis 1.45 1.77

1 As the Census estimate of population is too low, the ratio of deaths by
homicide is proportionately too high.

2 Probably incomplete returns on number of deaths by homicide.

128

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The annual average ratio of deaths by homicide in Chicago, as
given in the table, is, for the six years 1901-06, 7.30 per 100,000 of
inhabitants. The minimum for these years was 5.23, in 1901 ; the
maximum was 9.26, in 1905, the ratio for 1906 being 9.17. The
maximum for San Francisco was 11.90, in 1902; and for Cleveland,
8.57, in 1906. From these figures it may be seen that the " carnival
of crime" in Chicago, in 1906, did not by any means place the Windy
City in the lead as a " Scarlet City." While it is true that crimes of
violence are increasing in Chicago faster than the growth of popula-
tion, the augmentation has been gradual, and no greater, relatively,
than in Philadelphia. Cincinnati. Cleveland. Louisville, Los Angeles

CRIMES OF VIOLENCE

129

Anhxtai Number of Deaths by Homicide in Various Cities during Nine

Years— 1898-1906

New York....

Chicago

St. Louis

Louisville ....
Philadelphia.

Eoston

Cleveland ....
Baltimore ..,.
Indianapolis .
Providence ...
Milwaukee ...
Los Angeles. .
Lexington....,

Newark

St. Paul

San Francisco

1898

1899

1900

1901

1902

1903

1904

1905 |

121

137

140

112

127

137

176

165

77

108

102

92

108

142

130

185

78

81

74

109

82

80

82

87

32

26

23

44

22

29

30

36 !

22

18

16

28

32

46

40

37 i

12

15

15

23

31

17

24

14 i

3

4

12

4

32

11

16

24

24

5

26

21

15

14

24

17

3

8

5

7

5

9

10

8 !

9

8

5

5

5

6

12

6

5

4

3

4

4

2

8

?

9

?

?

?

12

9

11

24

?

?

?

4

4

6

5

6

•

?

?

?

5

3

5

3

1

?

1

10

1

5

6

6

27

32

?

?

43

36

?

?

HUM-,

253
187
63
48
62
18
36
26
10
11
?

20

6

9

1

?

and many other cities. If the number of homicides, in proportion
to population, was much higher in 1905 and in 1906 than in 1901 and
1902, such an increase is by no means unprecedented, nor are such
annual variations from the average unusual either in Chicago or else-
where. Already in 1888, the proportion of murders to the number of
inhabitants was almost as " alarming " as in 1905, and the ratio was
even then higher than it was to be as late as 1903, being 8.09 in the
year 1888, and but 5.88 in 1902. As late as 1904 the ratio was only
6.72. Again, while the ratio was 9.17 in 1906, it was 8.38 as far back
as 1893, and 7.24 in 1886, which is just about equal to the average for
the six years ending with 1906. Taking a period of thirty-five years,
the increase in deaths by homicide has been as follows : For the period
1872-79 (eight years), the annual average ratio was 3.20; for the
thirteen years 1880-1892, 5.55; for the fourteen years 1893-1906, 7.19
homicides per one hundred thousand of population. The maximum
ratio for any one year of the three periods was, 5.00 in 1873; 8.09 in
1888, and 9.26 in 1906. Of grave crimes in general, the increase of
arrests was from an annual average of 243.0 per one hundred thousand
of inhabitants for the three years 1901-03, to 269.1 for the three years
1904—06, an augmentation during the latter three years of 26.1 in each
100,000 of the population. This increase consists almost entirely of
arrests for assaults with a deadly weapon and for assaults with intent
to kill. There has been little or no increase in the proportion of arrests
for burglary and robbery.

That the increase in crimes of violence in Chicago is due to the
presence of a large foreign-born element of an inferior economic and
social status is amply attested by the available statistics. For instance,
the police records for 1905 show that whereas the ratio of arrests per

VOL. LXXIII.

i3o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

100,000 of population among native whites for murder and murderous
assaults was 94.16, among the foreign white population the ratio was
146.65 per one hundred thousand. Among the negroes the ratio was
107.52.

In considering the above statistics, the fact should be borne in
mind that the greater frequency of crimes of violence among certain
elements of the foreign-born population does not imply an inherent
and ineradicable viciousness or criminality among these unfortunate
immigrants, but merely a lawlessness due to unfavorable environment
and inadequate education, mental and manual. Crime is twin brother
to poverty, and both are the children of ignorance and greed.

It may be said, in conclusion, that while crimes of violence have in-
creased in Chicago during the past thirty-five years, the increase has
not been so great as has been represented, and that the alarming reports
sent out about the " carnival of crime " in Chicago are usually without
especial significance, since crimes of violence occur in all great cities
sporadically, generally in quick succession. At the end of the year
it is found, as a rule, that no unusual increase for the twelve months
has taken place, or that even an actual decrease has occurred, as was
the case in Chicago during the year 1906.

For the past four or five years the American public has been
startled by sensational reports regarding " the terrible increase of
crime in New York City." The year 1906 brought the usual quota
of comment and criticism. More recently the apparently unprovoked
killing of a policeman by an Italian assassin has focused attention
upon the fact that at least 1,600 of the foreign-born element of the
great metropolis have been permitted to go about the streets armed
with a deadly weapon. This evil practise is tolerated more or less in
nearly all our great cities, and with the same disastrous results. New
York, Chicago, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Philadelphia and other rapidly
growing cities, nearly all show an increase in the proportion of crimes
of violence commensurate with the changing character of their im-
migrant population.1 But, contrary to popular opinion, the increase
of homicide in New York City has been very slight during the past
decade, the year 1906 excepted. This agrees with the fact that the
racial composition of the population has not materially changed during
the five or six years preceding 1905. Taking a longer period, how-
ever, we find quite an increase in the number of crimes of violence,
especially assaults Avith a deadly weapon, and, apparently, murder and
attempts thereat. In 1880, when less than ten per cent, of New
York's alien population was drawn from Russia and southern Europe,

1 The extent of this change was partially traced by the present writer in
an article on " The Effects of Immigration on Homicide in American Cities,"
Popular Science Monthly, August, 1906.

CRIMES OF VIOLENCE

J31

with less than three per cent, from Italy, the number of arrests for
the various forms (or degrees) of homicide was less than four in each
one hundred thousand of the population. In 1890, when over 30 per
cent, of immigrants were from Eussia or southern Europe, there were
nearly seven such arrests in an equal number of residents. In 1900,
the percentage of aliens of this socially and economically inferior type
had reached nearly seven tenths of the total volume of immigration,
while the ratio of arrests on the charge of killing a fellow-man had
increased to 13 per one hundred thousand of inhabitants. In 1906, the
ratio rose to 21.51 per one hundred thousand of population. Mean-
while, in other large cities of the Empire State, such as Buffalo,
Rochester and Syracuse, where the foreign-born population was derived
almost entirely from northern Europe, no increase in the proportion of
homicides to total population has been noted. In Syracuse there have
been but six cases of homicide under jurisdiction of the police depart-
ment in a period of fourteen years.

Annual Number, and Proportion per One Hundred Thousand of the Popu-
lation, of Deaths by Homicide; and Annual Number of Arrests made
for Murder, Manslaughter, Homicide and Infanticide, during the
Nine Years 1898-1906

1898

1899

1900

1901

1902

1903

1904

1905

1906

Arrests for murder, 347

406

451

429

517

582

630

737

885

manslaughter,

homicide and in-
fanticide.

Deaths by homicide. 121

137

140

112

127

137

176

165

253

Deaths by homicide
per 100,000 of
population.

3.80

4.12

4 07

3.15

3.46

3.62

4.52

4.12

6.15

For the Six Years 1898-1903

1904-06

Annual average
ratio per 100,000
of population.

3.

70

4.93

It is worthy of note that while the number of homicides in New
York City has greatly increased during the past thirty-six years, there
has been no increase, to speak of, in the ratio of convicts to total popula-
tion, held in the state prisons for murder and manslaughter. In 1880,
there were 5.50 in each one hundred thousand of the population held
for murder or manslaughter; in 1890, 7.36; in 1906, 5.78 per one
hundred thousand of population. This may be partly due to the fact
that the police force of New York City, where about one third of the
homicides of the whole state are committed, has grown steadily smaller
relative to the growth of population. Coroner Eeter B. Acritelli de-

132 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

clares that " only one in ten murders and assaults is followed by
arrests." Moreover, he states that, " Even when an arrest has been
made, when the case comes to trial the Italian witnesses either myste-
riously lose their memories or disappear until the trial is over." The
Italian of southern Italy thinks there is something unmanly in an
appeal to the law, and that it is the duty and privilege of every man to
right his own wrongs.

While the police court records show an increase in the number of
arrests for the various forms of homicide from 347 in 1898, to 517 in
1902, and to 885 in 1906, these figures do not represent a proportionate
increase in the number of deaths by homicide, as may be seen by the
accompanying table.

From the foregoing figures it may be seen that the ratio of deaths
by homicide to total population was the same in 1905 (4.12) as it was
six years earlier, in 1899 ; and that whereas the annual average ratio
for the six years 1898-1903 was 3.70 per one hundred thousand of
inhabitants, the average annual ratio for the three years 1904-06 was
4.93. Such an increase is hardly sensational. In the matter of the
more serious crimes in general, such as robbery, burglary, arson, feloni-
ous assault and the various forms of homicide, taken altogether, the
increase was from 120.9 per one hundred thousand of population, to
166.3 (in 1905) ; an increase of 45.4 in each 100,000 of inhabitants.
The greatest increase to be noted is in the number of arrests for
felonious assault.

That a large share of the more grave forms of criminality is per-
petrated by certain elements of New York's alien population is easily
demonstrated. Thus, of the 4,124 aliens held for grave crime in the
penal institutions of the United States in 1904, one fourth were de-
tained in the prisons of the empire state. It is also a significant fact
that of the ninety-one persons who met death at the hands of a fellow-
man in the borough of Manhattan, in 1905, thirty-eight only were
born in this county, and the parents of twenty of these were foreign-
born. Of the 71 foreigners who were killed, twenty, or 28 per cent.,
were Italians, though eleven other nationalities were represented.
Seven of the deceased were Chinamen (who are, in this country, more
murderous in proportion to their numbers than the Italians) ; six of
the deceased were Eussians, five were natives of Ireland, four were
Germans. No other nationality was represented by more than two
victims. It is thus apparent how few of those murdered were native
Americans of native-born parents. It is, perhaps, not too much to say
that the lives of the better classes of citizens in New York City are as
safe now as in previous decades, most of the deaths by homicide being
confined to the immigrant quarters, the result of quarrels, of family
or tong feuds, rather than of cold-blooded murder, for gain. Coroner

CRIMES OF VIOLENCE 133

Peter B. Acritelli states that " Two thirds of the list of homicides in
the Tombs are men of Italian birth." And doubtless nine tenths of
these are from Sicily, Sardinia or southern Italy, since the natives of
northern Italy are not given to crimes of violence; human life being
safer in Venice or Florence than in Boston or Philadelphia; more
secure in Milan, Turin or Genoa than in Cleveland, Chicago or San
Francisco.

The accompanying table shows the comparative security of human
life in various cities, and reveals the fact that the life of the average
citizen is as safe in New York as in most urban communities.

Table showing the Average Annual Ratio of Deaths by Homicide peb
100,000 of Population in Various Cities, based upon Official Reports

Annual Average
of Homicides per
100,000 Popu-
City lation Period

Mexico, Mex 70.72 1899

Girgenti, Sicily 40.48 1897-1899

Sassari, Sardinia 38.64 1897-1899

Lima, Peru 36.G0 1899-1900

La Paz, Bolivia 33.71 1902

Naples, Italy 29.23 1879-1899

Lexington, Ky 17.77 1901-1905

Kansas, Kan 17.64 1904-1905

Louisville, Ky 14.85 1901-1905

St. Louis, Mo , 14.16 1900-1904

Rome, Italy 13.81 1897-1899

San Francisco, Cal 9.00 1899-1903

Chicago, 111 7.03 1893-1904

Turin, Italy 6.56 1897-1899

Budapest, Hungary 6.13 1895-1901

Cleveland, 0 6.12 1904-1906

Genoa, Italy : 5.83 1897-1899

New York, N. Y 4.93 1904-1906

Providence, R. 1 3.59 1900-1904

Baltimore, Md 3.39 1901-1905

Milan, Italy 3.20 1897-1899

Philadelphia, Pa 3.27 1904-1906

Boston, Mass 3.13 1904-1906

Venice, Italy 2.82 1897-1899

Newark, N. J 1.50 1902-1904

Milwaukee, Wis 1.45 1898-1904

In regard to the reputed increase of highway robbery in Greater
New York, the police records would seem to show that no such increase
has taken place. In comparing the number of crimes annually com-
mitted in New York City, it should be borne in mind that the popula-
tion increases at the rate of nearly 113,000 yearly. As to the increase
of highway robbery, the police court records merely show that the num-
ber of such crimes is far greater in some years than in others. This is
true of all our great cities. We may note, for example, that there were
thirteen times more arrests made in Baltimore for highway robbery in
1903 than in 1901; in Newark, there were fifteen times more arrests

i34 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

for this offense in 1902 than in 1900, though the average for a period
of six years shows only a slight increase in any of our cities, years of
frequent arrests on this charge alternating with few, or, as in Balti-
more, in some years, none at all on this charge. The number of such
arrests in New York in 1899 was nine, in 1901, thirty-four, followed
in 1903 by nine only. As a matter of fact, New York is one of the
few cities in the union which show an actual decrease in the number
of arrests for highway robbery. The official records show that whereas
the annual average of arrests on this charge for the six years 1898-
1903 was 19.3, for the three years 1904-06 the average was 16.7.
Meanwhile, the population of New York had increased by about one
million inhabitants. Arrests on the charge of arson show a very
material increase, from an annual average of 26.0 for the six years
1898-1903, to 35.2 for the three years 1904-06. Arrests on the charge
of felonious assault increased from 1,480 in 1898, to 3,375 in 1906.
A proportionate increase in crimes of violence has occurred in nearly
all cities of the union whose rapid growth is largely due to immigration
from southern Europe and Italy. On the whole, the increase has been
greater in Philadelphia than in New York. Boston and St. Louis are
the only large cities that show an actual decrease in the number of
deaths by homicide.

The chief encouragement to acts of violence in all the cities which
show an increase of felonious assaults and homicides is a deplorably
inadequate police force. Despite the fact that the growth of most of
our cities is due to the immigration of a socially inferior type of citizen-
ship, the strength of the police force is, in proportion to population and
extent of ground to be patrolled, becoming smaller each year. If
crimes of violence are far less frequent in London, Paris and Berlin, it
is also true that the police and detective forces of these cities are, rela-
tive to population, much larger. And what is more important still,
those who are held responsible for efficiency and discipline are free
from political interference and the domination of office-holders.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 135

THE MOVEMENT TOWARDS "PHYSIOLOGICAL"
PSYCHOLOGY. Ill

By Professor R. M. VVENLEY

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

LOTZE'S (1817-81) career as an author opened in 1841, and his
psychological contributions relevant to the present theme came
to an end practically in 1852. Thereafter, save for a few articles,1 he
devoted himself to the elaboration of his highly significant philosoph-
ical system. He therefore antedated the work of Helmholtz. A
prominent figure in the bitter controversy over vitalism and material-
ism (1817-60), he suffered grave misunderstanding; nevertheless,
thanks to lapse of time, his psychological position admits of no doubt.

The son of a physician, Lotze entered the University of Leipzig to
prepare for the paternal profession. Under the influence of Weisse he
became interested in philosophy, and, upon graduation, qualified as
Docent in both the medical and philosophical faculties. Till 1852 the
studies proper to the former predominated, philosophy claimed him
later, and his system represents more symptomatically than any other
the stress resultant upon the cross-currents of modern thought. It is
meaningful that he occupied successively Herbart's chair at Gottingen
and Hegel's at Berlin.

In 1842 he took a decided stand, or even lead, in the vitalist con-
troversy,2 and also published his " General Pathology and Therapeutics
as Mechanical Sciences." His " General Physiology of the Corporeal
Life " appeared in 1851 and, in the next year, the work of importance
for us now — " Medical Psychology, or Physiology of the Soul." Viewed
in the perspective of cultural development, especially in Germany, his
position seems to me quite evident. Here is his own statement of it:

We have two kinds of scientific knowledge. We know, on the one hand,
nature, the essence of the object studied; on the other hand, we know only the
external relations that are possible between it and other objects. In the first
kind of knowledge, there is a possible question of a cognitio rei only when our
intelligence apprehends an object, not simply under the form of external being,
but in an intuition so immediate that we are able, by our senses and ideas, to

1 Cf. " Formation de la notion d'espace " in Revue Philosophique, Vol. IV.,
pp. 345 ff . ; appendix to Stumpf's " Ueber den psychologischen Ursprung d.
Raumvorstellung " (1873); " Metaphysik," Bk. II., Chap. IV.; " Grundzuge d.
Psychologie " ( posthumous ) .

2 Leben u. Lebenskraft, in Wagner's " Handworterbuch," 1842.

136 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

penetrate its peculiar nature, and consequently, to know what ought to be,
according to its internal and specific essence, the order of such a being. On the
contrary, the other kind of scientific knowledge, the external, cognitio circa rem,
does not penetrate to the essence of things, but consists mainly in a clear and
precise apprehension of the conditions under which the object manifests itself
to us, and under which, in consequence of its variable relations to other objects,
jt is regularly transformed.3

Prior to Lotze's generation, philosophy had shaped scientific learn-
ing, leaving, at the same time, a large field open only to strict scientific
treatment. In his person, science shapes philosophy, leaving, at the
same time, a large field open only to strict philosophical treatment.4
One is surprised that such a simple explanation should have escaped
notice, and that a presentation of Lotze so fantastic — almost imperti-
nent— as that of Eibot, for example, should have been perpetrated.
Lotze's ability to see both sides of a problem, and his consequent sense
for the limits of physiological psychology (which, in my humble
judgment, remains completely justified still in essentials), provide the
clue to his attitude. So, he really presents two kinds of psychology.
One would investigate the factors, combinations and mechanism of
consciousness; the other would consider the import of consciousness,
and the end (if any) which it subserves in the universe. To under-
stand -the latter it is necessary to master his very subtle cosmology
("Metaphysics," Bk. II.) . The former is physiological psychology,
and has been presented more particularly in Bks. II. and III. of the
" Medical Psychology." Here Lotze writes as a scientific man, and
the " conception of a psychophysical mechanism " suffices ; that is,
physical, chemical and physiological causality rules. Thus, he regards
" physiology of the soul as an exposition of the mechanical conditions
to which, according to our observation, the life of the soul is attached." 5
" The conception of a psychophysical mechanism can be stated as fol-
lows : As ideas, volitions and other mental states can not be compared
with the quantitative and special properties of matter, but as, never-
theless, the latter seem to follow upon the former, it is evident that two
essentially different, totally disparate, series of processes, one bodily
and one mental, run parallel to each other. In the intensive quality
of a mental process the extensive definiteness of the material process
can never be found; but if the one is to call forth the other, the pro-
portionality between them must be secured through a connection which
appears to be extrinsic to both. There must exist general laws, which
ensure that with a modification (a) of the mental substance a modifi-
cation (b) of the bodily substance shall be connected, and it is only in

8 " Med. Psych.," Vol. I., p. 50.

* Cf . Rehnisch in Rev. Philos., XII., 321 ff. ; Achelis in Vierteljahrs. f. iciss.
Phil, 1882.

B " Kleine Schriften," II., p. 204.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 137

consequence of this independent rule, and not through its own power
and impulse, that a change in the soul produces a corresponding one
in the body. ... It is quite indifferent to medicine wherein the mys-
terious union of soul and body consists, as this is the constant event
which lies equally at the bottom of all phenomena. But it is of the
greatest interest to medicine to know what affections of the soul are
connected in that mysterious manner with what affections of the
body." 6 Accordingly, his phenomenal psychology was guided by com-
petent knowledge of physics and physiology, the latter, as we must
recall, being a subject which he actually professed. His speculative
psychology, dealing with the mysterious union, falls within his
philosoplry.

The third book of the " Medical Psychology," which still conveys
lessons to the physician, deals with subjects such as sleep, attention,
emotion, the influence of the flow of consciousness upon secretion,
nutrition, and instinct, and with abnormal psychology. The second
book reviews the factors of self-consciousness, especially in the light
of the relation between the physiological mechanism and the mind. It
thus includes his most distinctive contribution to physiological psy-
chology— the famous theory of "local signs." This is an integral
part of his analysis of space-perception, one of the subtlest ever formu-
lated. His latest presentation of it runs thus:

Let it be assumed that the soul once for all lies under the necessity of
mentally presenting a certain manifold as in juxtaposition in space; How does
it come to localize every individual impression at a definite place in the space
intuited by it, in such manner that the entire image thus intuited is similar to
the external object which acted on the eye?

Obviously, such a clue must lie in the impressions themselves. The simple
quality of the sensation " green " or " red " does not, however, contain it ; for
every such color can in turn appear at every point in space, and on this ac-
count does not, of itself, require always to be referred to the one definite point.

We now remind ourselves, however, that the carefulness with which the
regular position on the retina of the particular excitations is secured, can not
be without a purpose. To be sure, an impression is not seen at a definite point
on account of its being situated at such a point; but it may perhaps by means
of this definite situation act on the soul otherwise than if it were elsewhere
situated.

Accordingly we conceive of this in the following way: Every impression cf
color " r " — for example, red — produces on all places of the retina, which it
reaches, the same sensation of redness. In addition to this, however, it produces
on each of these different places, a, b, c, a certain accessory impression, o, /3, 7,
which is independent of the nature of the color seen, and dependent merely on
the nature of the place excited. This second local impression would therefore
be associated with every impression of color " r," in such a manner that ra
signifies a red that acts on the point a, r/3 signifies the same red in case it acts
on the point b. These associated accessory impressions would, accordingly,

'Ibid., I., pp. 193-97.

138 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

render for the soul the clue, by following which it transposes the same red,
now to one, now to another spot, or simultaneously to different spots in the
space intuited by it.

In order, however, that this may take place in a methodical way, these
accessory impressions must be completely different from the main impressions,
the colors, and must not disturb the latter. They must be, however, not merely
of the same kind among themselves, but wholly definite members of a series
or system of series ; so that for every impression " r " there may be assigned,
by the aid of this adjoined " local sign," not merely a particular, but a quite
definite spot among all the rest of the impressions. The foregoing is the
theory of " Local Signs." *

The best anatomical and physiological researches fail tu reveal
spatial order as inherent in sensation; and, even if this ignorance be
due to the impossibility of following up the evolutionary regress, it is
a real difficulty. Lotze therefore concluded that " localization in
space belongs to the unconscious product of the soul's action through
the mechanism of its internal states." 8 We gain a field of vision from
an ensemble of local signs, and, as concerns tactile sense, the same
thing happens, the functions of the corpuscles of touch being like
those of the cones and rods of the retina in sight. As a result, our
notion of the extended originates in a perception of qualitative differ-
ences, from which the mind, by its own power of transformation, con-
structs extensive relations. Later researches into the structure of the
peripheral nerve terminations seem to confirm, rather than undermine,
the hypothesis. That it is a typical example of the limitations of
hypothesis Lotze acknowledged quite frankly. But he claimed, with
justice, that it explained the actual phenomena better than any other
theory. As a consequence, even if modified, it has been incorporated
in physiological psychology, and, especially as regards vision and touch,
must be reckoned with still.9 To sum up — the point is this: Lotze
held that every sensation, say, of color, was accompanied by an " acces-
sory impression " of locality. The facts made it necessary to assume
this " accessory impression." Now, just because it happens to be an
assumption, it lies open to several interpretations. In other words,
the principle of the hypothesis may stand, but opinions as to the way
in which it may be read can differ widely. However this may be, more
than any other psychologist, he has laid bare the numerous pitfalls sur-
rounding the explanation of a psychological fact so obvious and com-
mon as space perception.

Nascent sciences present a certain family likeness in their life

7"Grundziige d. Psychologie " (1881); Eng. trans, (from ed. of 1884),
pp. 51 ff.

8 " Med. Psych.," Bk. II., Sect. 294.

9 Cf . " Elements of Physiological Psychology," Ladd, pp. 396 ff . ; " Prin-
ciples of Psychology," James, Vol. II., pp. 157 f. ; "German Psychology of
To-day," Ribot, p. 95 (Eng. trans.).

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 139

history. Commonly, they begin as special inquiries, somewhat off the
traditional lines, in the science which bears close or closest affinity to
the future discipline. Such movements continue lonely for a time,
systematization being difficult or unattainable till many facts have been
collected. To the point reached now we see this stage predominating
in physiological psychology. Physics and anatomy, physiology and
philosophy present special departures toward psychology, but a unifica-
tion of the last still lacks. The final step must be associated always
with the names of Gustav Theodor Fechner and Wilhelm Wundt (the
latter more emphatically), who, building on the accumulations of their
predecessors, at length brought the new science into formal shape.

Fechner (1801-87), like Lotze, studied medicine at Leipzig, where
he became professor of physics in 1834. Like Lotze, too, he was an
expert in philosophy. Both were " masters in the use of exact meth-
ods, yet at the same time with their whole souls devoted to the highest
questions, and superior to their contemporaries in breadth of view as
in the importance and range of their leading ideas — Fechner a dreamer
and sober investigator by turns, Lotze with a gentle hand reconciling
the antitheses in life and science."10 In a fashion Fechner's psy-
chology is more intimately connected with his philosophy than Lotze's,
and his philosophico-psychological perspective offers points of strong
contrast to Wundt's. Indeed, his definition of psychophysics — a term
original with him — hints as much. " I understand by psychophysics
an exact theory of the relations of soul and body, and, in a general way,
of the physical world and the psychical world." Undoubtedly, the
psychology may be disengaged from metaphysical entanglements, as
Wundt said in his address on the occasion of the Fechner centenary.11
But, after all, Fechner's panpsychism forms a motive force of his
psychophysics, because, intellectually, he was a double personality.12
His philosophical theory teaches a universal parallelism between the
physical and the psychical. Or, as Nageli, the botanist, has it :

Sensation is clearly connected with the reflex actions of higher animals.
We are obliged to concede it to the other animals also, and we have no grounds
for denying it to plants and inorganic bodies. The sensation arouses in us a con-
dition of comfort and discomfort. In general, the feeling of pleasure arises when
the natural impulses are satisfied, the feeling of pain, when they are not satis-
fied. Since all material processes are composed of movements of molecules and
elementary atoms, pleasure and pain must have its seat in these particles.
Sensation is a property of the albuminous molecules; and if it belongs to these,
we are obliged to concede it to the other substances also. If the molecules pos-
sess anything even remotely akin to sensation, they must have a feeling of
comfort when they can obey the law of attraction or repulsion, the law of their
own inclination or aversion; a feeling of discomfort, however, when they are

10 "History of Modern Philosophy," Falckenberg, pp. 601-2 (Eng. trans.).

11 Cf. "Gustav Theodor Fechner," K. Lasswitz, p. 91.

12 Cf. ibid., p. 154.

i4o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

compelled to make contrary movements. Thus the same thread runs through
all material phenomena. The human mind is nothing but the highest develop-
ment on our earth of the mental processes which universally animate and move
nature.13

Fechner had worked out this fundamental theory ere he arrived at
his psychological results. We find glimmerings of it so soon as 1835,
in the attractive " Little Book on Life After Death," in the tract " On
the Highest Good" (1846) ; enlarged views in " Nanna, or the Soul-
life of Plants" (1848); while the system appears full-fledged in
"Zend-Avesta, or the Things of Heaven and the Hereafter" (1851) ;
in 1861 he returned to it in his book, " On the Soul Question," occa-
sioned by contemporary materialism, and in " The Three Motives and
Grounds of Belief "; and in 1879 he reaffirmed and restated the position
in the remarkable volume entitled " The Day View and the Night
View." The essence of his teaching may be summed up in the thought
that the material or external world is a half-truth, a concession to the
sensuous, rather than an explanation of the psychical;

However complicated our brains may be, and however much we may feel in-
clined to attach to such a complexity the highest mental properties, the world
is unspeakably more complex, since it is a complication of all the complications
contained in it, the brains among them. Why not, therefore, attach still higher
mental properties to this greater complexity? The form and structure of the
heavens seem simple only when we consider the large masses and not their
details and concatenation. The heavenly bodies are not crude homogeneous
lumps; and the most diverse and complicated relations of light and gravity
obtain between them. That, however, the plurality in the world is also grouped,
comprehended, and organized into unity does not contradict the thought that it
is also comprehended into a corresponding mental unity, but is in harmony with
the same.14

Consequently, the physical symbolizes the psychical. They are two
faces of a single existence. Human research may, therefore, deal with
the one or the other, and attain, as it has attained, great success. But
the real problem centers in the relation between the two. Of this,
physiological psychology is the science. You can, accordingly, pursue
it qua science, but you must never forget the larger setting in which
it finds itself.

Proceeding to the psychology, then, note at once that Fechner en-
visages the problem rather as a physicist than as a physiologist. So,
he suffers from his limitations, but gains in precision. Soul and body
being a single existence, it is practicable to investigate their mutual
functioning and to state the results as laws of nature, which, in turn,
are no more than assemblages of observations concerning phenomenal

13 Cf. " Die mechanische-physiologische Theorie d. Abstammungslehre "
(1884).

" " Ideen zu einer Schopfungsgeschichte," p. 106.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 141

existence. Of course, a developed psychology would endeavor to extend
this plan to the entire range of consciousness. Fechner, however, con-
fines himself to a single fundamental point — the relation between
stimulus and sensation as generalized in Weber's law ; although, just as
Lotze before him, he considers other questions in a most suggestive
manner, such, notably, as the seat of the soul, sleep and reminiscence.
In pursuance of his early conviction,' that soul and body are but opposite
sides of an identical existence (conscious), he took it for granted that
their reciprocal action would be proportional. But this was belief, not
science. Weber's work led Fechner to test the hypothesis, that the in-
crease of physiological excitation holds the key to psychological changes.
And his interest was stimulated by the fact that, if this could be proved
accurately, his philosophy would benefit by so much indubitable evi-
dence. Consequently, he was moved to verify Weber's law by numerous
experiments, chiefly of a physical sort. Sensations of pressure and
muscular effort, detected by the use of weights ; sensations of tempera-
ture, determined by cold and hot water; sensations of light, handled
by the photometer; and sensations of sound, observed by reference to
falling bodies, all tended to confirm the same general relation between
stimulus and the psychological event. Given what Herbart called a
" threshold of sensation," and having fixed this as a constant for each
class of sensation, Fechner found it possible to infer, by strict induc-
tion, that the intensity of the sensation is equal to the proportion of the
stimulus, multiplied by the logarithm of the excitation, divided by the
threshold of stimulus. In other words, we can obtain a formula for
the quantitative relation of physical and psychological events consid-
ered as magnitudes. This formula, which provides a means of meas-
urement, declares that the sensations increase proportionally to the
logarithm of the stimulus.15 As a law, Fechner affirms dogmatically
that it applies for internal (psychological) states and, within limits,
reasons for which can be given, for external (physiological or physical)
conditions. The result was obtained by three methods. (1) The
Method of Differences which are Just Observable. This means that
the operator finds, first, the least greater or the least smaller stimulus
which can just be sensed as different by the subject; and then proceeds
to add increments to this, or, inversely to subtract increments from it,
till the intensity or diminution come into clear recognition. Divide
the sum of the initial and the altered stimulus and you arrive at the
differential of sensibility. (2) The Method of True (Eight) and
False (Wrong) Cases. Here the operator applies two stimuli, which
differ slightly, to the subject, and inquires whether the first is greater

15 Cf. "German Psychology of To-day," Ribot, pp. 138 f. (Eng. trans.);
" Outlines of Psychology," Kiilpe, pp. 164 f. ; Ward in Mind, Vol. I. (old series),
pp. 452 ff. ; ©r in any standard psychology, e. g., James or Wundt or Ladd.

i42 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

or smaller than the second. The replies are recorded; the ratio of
true judgments to the total number of judgments gives the measure of
sensibility, and varies directly with it. (3) The Method of Mean
Errors — or of Probability of Error. Given a stimulus, the subject is
asked to add another just equal to the datum. He deviates more or
less; the probable error of the adjustment, in its deviation from the
known mean, affords the direct measure of sensibility. The last, so
far as an amateur can judge, would seem to be the most important,
because the most accurate procedure. As has been said, the resultant
generalization holds within limits, upper and lower.16 But this is just
what one anticipates in any law of nature. And there is another, much
more pertinent, question. Does the law apply to the relation between
sensation and neurosis, or merely to that between neurosis and excita-
tion? If the former, it is psycho-physiological; if the latter, it is no
more than physiological or, strictly, physical. Now this raises pre-
cisely the fundamental problem: Are sensations measurable? And
this, in turn, seems to me to depend upon the possibility of differen-
tiating between sensation and perception (the manner in which we
experience sensation). So far as I catch the present drift, the central
difficulty remains sub judice. On the other hand, if one be prepared
to accept the theory that I call " organicism " — the analogue on the
metaphysical side of activism on the ethical, which declares that our
whole experience can only be interpreted as a single vast organism, in
which every part bears a relation at once of means and end to every
other, it follows plainly, in my judgment, that, if not Fechner's law,
then some law (possibly not yet known, but necessary all the same)
must be operative; and, further, that this law, in certain of its mani-
festations, is capable of discovery and verification by psycho-physiolog-
ical methods. You see we must not demand finality from a new science
in the first generation of its formal career. At this point the most
pitiable errors have been made both by critics and by advocates. The
critic who insists that physiological psychology has nothing to tell is
in far too big a hurry to judge ; and the advocate who urges that physi-
ological psychology can tell everything forthwith deposes his own sub-
ject from its hard-earned place as a positive science. It is fair to add,
as opposed to my own view, that the greatest American psychologist,
Professor James,17 states (1) that "Fechner's originality consists ex-
clusively in the theoretic interpretation of Weber's law" (p. 545);
(2) that "the entire superstructure which Fechner rears upon the
facts is not only seen to be arbitrary and subjective, but in the highest

lflRibot, q. s., p. 1G8; Helmholtz, "Physiol. Optik," pp. 314 f . ; "Hereditary
Genius," Galton; and, for a very destructive view, "Introduction to Psycholog-
ical Theory," Bowne, pp. 49 ff. See also refs. under Weber's law above.

17 Cf. " Principles of Psychology," Vol. I., Chap. XIII.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 143

degree improbable as well" (p. 547); and (3) that "Weber's law is
probably purely physical" (p. 548). And he concludes, "the only
amusing part of it is that Fechner's critics should always feel bound,
after smiting his theories hip and thigh and leaving not a stick of them
standing, to wind up by saying that nevertheless to him belongs the
imperishable glory of first formulating them and thereby turning psy-
chology into an exact science ( ! ) :

" And everybody praised the duke

Who this great fight did win."
" But what good came of it at last ? "

Quoth little Peterkin.
" Why, that I can not tell," said he,
"But 'twas a famous victory" (p. 549).

All of which need not be taken with too many grimaces. For it
merely means that physiological psychology remains in the " natural
history " stage — it is still occupied mainly in the assemblage of facts.
And no one would oppose it were it not that some foolish partisans,
after the fashion of fools in all ages, go about to magnify their office.
That psychology can never hope to be " exact " after the kind of
physics, or even, mayhap, physiology, seems beyond doubt. Yet one
attaches little, if any, weight to this remark. For, as physiology
ceases to be physiology when it assimilates itself to physics or to chem-
istry, so psychology ceases to be psychology when it attempts to become
physiology, just as sociology, masquerading in the guise of psychology,
is no science, but simply a homeless bastard. Sceptical as the con-
clusion may seem, Fechner, nevertheless, needs no justification, as his
work for esthetics proves abundantly.18 For, in psychology, as in every
other science, the investigator assumes the intelligibility of nature;
and then, by an attack in detail, attempts to show that natural inter-
relations are as his conceptual conclusions anticipated they would be.
And from this process no sphere of experience can be held exempt.
Doubtless, the application is most difficult in psychology, because there
abstraction from either body or mind leads to positive error. But, here,
again, we are only saying that, despite all its laboratories and apparatus,
psychology remains that new revelation — a philosophical science. And
to my mind its first-rate importance grounds exactly in this very fact.

18 Cf. "Fechner," Lasswitz, p. 101.

i44 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF HUMOR

By LINUS W. KLINE, Ph.D.

I. Introduction

~VT"0 stimulus, perhaps, more mercifully and effectually breaks the
-L ^ surface tension of consciousness, thereby conditioning the mind
for a stronger forward movement, than that of humor. It is the one
universal dispensary for human kind : a medicine for the poor, a tonic
for the rich, a recreation for the fatigued and a beneficent check to the
strenuous. It acts as a shield to the reformer, as an entering wedge to
the recluse and as a decoy for barter and trade. A German writer
observes that it is a parachute to the balloon of life. To change the
figure, it is a switch on the highway of life to prevent human col-
lisions. Zenophon reckons that the man who makes an audience laugh
has done a lesser service than the one who moves it to tears. But the
comedian Philippos, when Socrates asked him of what he was proud,
declared, " I believe that I ought to be as proud of my right to the
gift of arousing laughter, as Kallipides, the tragedian, of his art in
causing tears."1

Darwin points out that the causes of laughter are legion and exceed-
ingly complex.2 Humor may often be a cause, in which case it is
the mental aspect of a psychophysical fact. The mental aspect, only,
forms the subject matter of this paper. It offers problems for investi-
gation similar to any other concrete mental fact. I propose to show
that the character of its stimuli, the conditions of its origin in the race
and in the individual, its nature and function as a mental process, are
discoverable, describable and susceptible of explanation.3

II. The Nature of the Stimulus

(a) Non-humorous Stimuli

The immensity of space, the infinitude of time, the motion of the
heavenly bodies and all cosmic rhythms are void of humor. The same
thing is apparent of all physical, chemical and mathematical laws, and
likewise of all macroscopic things of earth such as the waters, the tidal
movements, the cataracts, the mountains, the forests, the deserts and

1Nick, Fr., " Narrenfeste," Bd. I., Zeit. 2, 1861.

2 Darwin, Chas., " The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals,"
p. 198.

3 The physiological conditions of laughter have been treated at length by
Ewald Hecker and Herbert Spencer; the latter's contribution still remains the
classic on this subject.

NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF RUMOR 145

the plains. Swift rhythmic movements of organic life in the large,
and the orderly expression of life processes, as the heart-beat, the
mystery of sleep, birth and death, may inspire awe and dread, but
never humor.

There is a large group of objects and actions which incite feelings
of contempt, disgust and loathing, such as parasites, creeping and
slimy things, filth, skin and eye diseases, all forms of tyranny,
treachery, poltroonery, ingratitude and, according to Bain, " the entire
catalogue of the vanities given by Solomon."

All common and customary activities and events and objects of
familiar notice constitute, so far as the pleasure-pain field is concerned,
an indifferent zone.

By this eliminating process it appears that the conditions averse to
humor are: (1) The macroscopic things of the world, including her
laws, order, harmony and rhythm, (2) those things which are inimical
to life and freedom, (3) those things, largely of the social order, that
have become habituated, regular in occurrence and necessary to human
comfort.

(b) Humorous Stimuli

There remain for consideration : (1) Animals and their actions, (2)
man, (3) his actions, (4) clothes, (5) customs and manners, (6)
words, language and thought.

1. Animals. — The statements that " There is no comic outside of
what is properly human," and that the lower life and inanimate objects
provoke humor only when endowed with human qualities, are perhaps
true and the many exceptions pimply prove the rule. Small animals,
like small people, are more likely to provoke humor than large ones.
The bantams and games, are the clowns and Don Quixotes of poultry-
dom, while the Plymouth Rocks and Shanghais are the prosaic members.
The poodles, terriers and spaniels are the fun-makers of the kennel;
the St. Bernards, great Danes and bulldogs command our serious
respect and sometimes more. When an animal of one class does the
task common to an animal of quite a different class, it is apt to pro-
voke humor. An ox in shafts drawing a top buggy, mules, asses or
buffalos running a race, an elephant drawing a chariot are examples.
But if the animal is set to doing a human task the humor is intensified.
The inimitable iEsop, endowing animals with human craft and quali-
ties, made this style of humor classical for all time. It appears in
modern humor in the stunts of Johnny Bear, in the clever tricks of
Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox and in the county fairs, charity balls,
political conventions, clinics for appendicitis and the like conducted by
clivers species humanly socialized.

2. Man. — Man may provoke humor by his size, especially if ex-
tremes meet. The undersized is likely to amuse— especially in his pre-

VOL. IiXXIII. — 10.

146 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tensions and passions. Unusual features, types of ugliness, odd shapes,
Falstaff proportions, contain humorous elements.

3. Actions. — Mimicry and all actions of a pretentious and useless
sort and in false time and space relations may provoke humor. All
mimicry is humorous, whether in the form of the puppet show, the
pantomime, the burlesque or the comedy. Hazlitt calls attention to a
large group of humorous acts as seen in the " pursuit of uncertain
pleasure or idle gallantry." Professor James refers to the same subject
in describing our desire for recognition : " We are crazy to get a
visiting list which shall be large, to be able to say when any one is
mentioned, ' Oh ! I know him well ' . . . there is a whole race of
beings to-day whose passion is to keep their names in the newspaper,
no matter under what heading ; ' arrivals and departures,' gossip, even
scandal will suit them if nothing better is to be had." Useless actions
of the ideomotor and absent-minded type are the causes of many of the
comedies of errors in every-day life. A young lady who had partially
disrobed to make a toilet at the noon hour, wound up by " saying her
prayers," that being the usual next step in the evening. A college girl
stopped at her own room and knocked vigorously for admission. For-
getfulness, too, is often a source of humor. Here belong the host of
stories of the forgetful and absent-minded professor, from which
we select one. A certain professor asked the lady of his choice for
her hand, in total disregard of the fact that he had made the same
request with the happiest result on the day preceding. The wrong use
of objects, tools and machinery often makes an act humorous; for in-
stance, posting letters in a neighbor's private letter box, an Indian
taking his family to church in a hearse purchased for a carriage,
sharpening a hand saw by grinding the teeth out of it. Awkward-
ness is a common type of action naturally humorous. Any action
inherently serious may become humorous by occurring out of time or
out of place. Singing ahead of time or out of tune, applauding alone,
answering questions at the wrong time at a marriage service, an
unmindful deacon removing his small coat with his overcoat and
sitting down in his shirt sleeves in church, are cases in point. Hazlitt
remarks, " In Jocular history everybody is at angles to real life ; people
do precisely what they ought not to do, say what they ought not to
say, are found where they ought not to be found."

4. Clothes. — Clowns and professional fools supplement their wit,
humor and mimicry by their well-known forms of dress. Johnny Bull,
Uncle Sam and Santa Claus are always received good-naturedly partly
on account of their dress. Hallowe'en, masked balls, the Mardi Gras
and Carnivals ancient and modern owe much of their charming good
humor to dress. It is well known that we laugh at the dress of
foreigners, and they at ours. " Three chimney sweeps meeting three
Chinese in Lincoln's-inn-fields, they laughed at one another till they
were ready to drop down. . . . Any one dressed in the height of

NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF HUMOR 147

fashion or quite out of it is equally an object of ridicule." Doubtless
if the centuries could rise up and view each other en masse, their first
act would be mutual laughter at each other's clothes.

5. Customs and Manners. — As stimulants of humor customs and
manners have, perhaps, no equal. They excite it alike in the vulgar
and the cultured, in the illiterate and the learned. They appear in
excesses and exaggerations and in violating time and space relations,
either as innovations or as lingering too long. To appear in excess or
out of time and place implies some age and stability in human institu-
tions. Norms and standards of fashions must be formed, regularity
in activities must freeze into custom and the free spirit of good-fellow-
ship and of social intercourse must become habituated to the plane of
manners before the spirit of satire, wit and humor can react for or
against them. The gentle old countryman whose habit it had been to
exchange the courtesies of life with his fellow travelers along the
country highway, awakened a ripple of humor when he graciously shook
hands with all the occupants of a city street car. Mark Twain in his
" Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's Court," gives us a charming
glimpse of the humor of manners and customs out of time. Fielding
observes of even so playful a dramatist as Sheridan that he attacks
affectation, false sentiments, hollow forms and empty words in life and
literature.

6. Words, Language and Thought. — This is the favorite tramping
ground for both the humorist and his critic. The most delicate, subtle
and refined specimens occur here. It is also here that an attempt to
give an adequate treatment resembles trying to bottle a fog or lasso a
cloud. To make some headway, however, we are under the necessity of
drawing a few distinctions. All words, language and thought, not
humorous to the speaker but so interpreted by the observer, may be
termed unconscious humor (following the lead of common usage).
The humorous interpretation of unconscious humor may be called
passive humor. All deliberate manipulation of words, language and
thoughts by the subject for humorous effects may be considered active
humor. In what follows the text will show which sort is meant.4
Concerning words, it appears that their misspelling, mispronunciation,
misinterpretation, forced usage and misusage, punning, repetition, local-
isms and foreign accents endow them with a certain degree of humor.
Many of the humorous classics use one or more of these methods.
The writings of " Artemus Ward " and " Josh Billings " about exhaust
the possibilities of misspelling. Negro, Irish and foreign dialects now
occupy much of the field of mispronunciation and misinterpretation.
Dickens displays the worth of forced usage in the inimitable Pickwick.
Sheridan creates Mrs. Malaprop largely by these methods. Shake-
speare had the courage to pun to his own satisfaction. Dickens has

4 For a discussion of the forms of the comic see Th. Lipps, " Komik und
Humor," pp. 78-102.

148 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

used repetition to a fine effect in several of his characters. We recall
Mr. Totts', " of no consequence," and Joey Bagstock who is " devilishly
sly." Provincialisms and foreign accents enter into the humor of
daily life rather than that of literature.

The unconscious distortion of words by the illiterate, the naive and
the pretentious adds to the quality of this sort of humor. In fact,
whether the distortions are " made " or are unconscious, their humor
depends on our apprehending them as such. A farmer who made
daily business trips to Eichmond assured his neighbor that he always
dined at a " first-class reservoir." A colored servant in my own home
asked for a half holiday in order to go on a " railroad squashin "
(excursion). (What irony in the light of recent events!)

Language much more than custom and manners requires a civiliza-
tion of some age and stability in order to furnish both the conditions
and material for humor. George Meredith5 has urged that it requires a
society of cultivated men and women, wherein ideas are current and of
some duration and perceptions quick, that the humorist may be fur-
nished with matter and an audience. " The semibarbarism of merely
giddy communities and feverish emotional periods " creates no humor.

Quaintness in language as in other things possesses a tinge of
humor. A description of the table manners of a nun or a lady of
culture in modern language would be sorry business, but when Chaucer

says of the nun

At mete wel y-taught was she with-alle;
She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe.

He stimulates our sense of humor. Here too belong the grave and

serious in connection with trivial and prosaic matters, for example the

records of colonial legislative enactments and the minutes of their

town meetings. Many of the failures of language to fit the thought

yield humor ; a common type is verbosity. In this connection I give the

following :

Mt. Sterling (Ky.) Reporter. (Colored)

Dear Editor: Please allow me a space in your momentous Gazette to recip-
rocate my gratitude to the indefatigably workers of the Evergreen Baptist
Church. While sitting in my studio last Friday evening greatly obsorbed in
the monotonous problem so-called Negro problem I were interposed by the
anthem, " There shall be showers of blessing " which rendered me surprisal
happy. . . . After a general parlance I were divinely impressed to descant on
the altronistic spirit that should characterize the christiandom. A sumptuous
repast followed and all present shaiated their gastronomic desire. Bro. Ben
Mitchell distinguished himself by his implacable vorasity. May God bless the
members of the Evergreen Baptist Church. Many thanks. F. B. — Pastor.

Opposed to the quaint is the ultra-slang, brusque catch-words and
phrases of common life ; witness the monologues of " Chimmie Faddin "
and the writings of George Ade.

6 Meredith, George, " An Essay on Comedy," p. 8, London, 1905.

NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF HUMOR 149

The speech of the excited, the irritated and the fatigued often be-
comes humorous by inversions. A prospective bridegroom at the church
door in consultation with his minister inquires excitedly, " Is it
kistomary to cuss the bride?'5 Grumio answers his master. "Ah, sir,
they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses" (see "The Taming of
the Shrew," Act III., Scene 2).

What a man thinks and feels, although serious to him, may be
just as much an object of humor as a situation, an awkward movement
or a form of speech. The unconscious maker of humor in thought is
your next neighbor. Every one is a contributor on occasions to this
type. Certain classes, however, are much more productive than others ;
among them may be mentioned the ignorant, the illiterate, the inex-
perienced, the credulous, the skeptic, the superstitious, the over-serious,
the vain and the prosaic. Their humor appears in their attempt to
deal with situations and problems somewhat beyond their ken. The
ignorant and illiterate amuse by their literalisms, pretensions, evasions
and superstitions. In looking over some papers written by students of
Plato's Eepublic I noticed that they usually began the story of the
Lydian shepherd, Gyges, and his magic ring, in somewhat this fashion :
" A shepherd lad was tending his flock on a mountain side when sud-
denly a violent storm arose. The rain fell in torrents, the ground was
rent asunder by an earthquake and a yawning gulf opened in the very
midst of the flock. Inspired by curiosity, he descended into the gulf
and among the marvelous objects he saw a hollow brazen horse," etc.
One paper ran thuswise : " A , shepherd one day noticed a large horse
standing in a hole in the ground. He climbed inside," etc. Dickens
employs pretensions in .the interests of humor, as Joe Gargery's de-
ceptive attempts at reading for Pip's benefit. Thackeray's Capt. Paw-
don Crawley is a fine specimen of stupid ignorance. I am persuaded
that many superstitions are kept alive by their humorous vein. To
turn back is bad luck, the " spell " may be broken by making a cross
in the path with the big toe and then spitting in it. A negro boy
taught us this when children. We did not believe it, but practised
it for fun. Inexperience is the lot of childhood, and the condition of
its humor, which is expressed in the questions, in the wonderings and
in the explanations of child thought. This is abundantly verified in
the writings of the " pot-hunters " of childlore. The humor of the
credulous appears in a condensed form in their responses to the yarn-
spinner and the prank-player. The faith and works of the inventor
are often ahead of his time and are therefore sometimes the butt of the
common mind. Cervantes made Don Quixote the humorous peer of all
time among the over-serious, and Malvolio of Twelfth Night typifies
the humor of vanity among individuals of small parts. Putting great
force into small matters, exercising much thought over petty ques-

150 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tions, exalting trifles into the plane of the magnificent form perennial
sources of humor.

Active Thought Humor. — This type of thought humor is as complex
and infinite in variety as thought itself. Cicero was the first to have
extensively considered it, and even he apologized for his number of
headings. He says, " I have divided these matters into too many head-
ings already." He includes : deceiving expectation, satirizing the
tempers of others, playing humorously upon our own, comparing a
thing with something worse (Bain's degradation theory), dissembling,
uttering apparent absurdities, pretended misunderstandings, wishing
the impossible, uniting discordant particulars (Krapelin's theory of the
comic), concealed suspicion of ridicule. He illustrates the latter by
" the Sicilian who, when a friend of his made lamentations to him,
saying that his wife had hanged herself upon a fig tree, said, I beseech
you give me some shoots of that tree, that I may plant them."

Cicero's6 list has been considerably increased by later writers with-
out contributing anything essentially new. I shall not attempt to in-
crease the list. I wish here to emphasize some of the more common
ways by which active thought uses the material, already detailed, in
the interest of humor. Some of the simpler uses are seen in childhood
in their " fooling " and playful deception. The vigorous use that the
child makes of "April fool" is an example. The child employs the
recognition jDrocess for humorous effects in his mimicry, drawings and
riddles. To draw an object with doubtful resemblance and require
an adult to identify it affords him pleasure. Constructive imagina-
tion is put to the service of humor by the various forms of roguery.
A negro boy asked my brother of twelve if he had seen a stray cow.
" Did she wear a small bell ? " asked my brother. " Yeah, dat's de
cow." " Did she have a short tail ? " " Yeah, dat's de veay cow."
" Then I haven't seen her." The essential principle in cartooning is to
display an association formed either by evident or obscure resemblances.
Both wit and humor of the highest type depend upon the power of
perceiving unusual, exaggerated and remote relationships. Mark
Twain stands alone in this country in the use of exaggerated relation-
ships. Groos7 has marshaled considerable evidence to show that the
higher mental processes may be used in the service of play. Kant
pointed out that play and humor are closely related, if not actually
crossing each other. This suggests the notion that every process
exerted in the service of play may at the same time, or under slightly
different conditions, be used for purposes of humor. The making and
solving of conundrums and riddles, impromptu and otherwise, are prac-
tised no less for their humor than for their play value. I hardly need
mention the coarse type of active thought humor which makes a
liberal use of profanity and other vulgarisms.

6 Cicero, " Oratory and Orators," p. 304, Bonn's edition.
1 Groos, Karl, " The Play of Man," pp. 152-158.

NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF HUMOR 151

III. The Nature and Origin of Humor as a Mental Process

Schuetze, in 1817, and Hazlitt, in 1819, summarized the various
opinions as to the nature of humor up to their time. The former cites
some fifteen different authorities and views. Schopenhauer, in 1819,
made a decided contribution in that he attempted an exact description
of the mental processes involved. Since then the nature of the mental
process and its physiological basis have been the main points of dis-
cussion. Schuetze, Hoeffding and Sully call attention to the sense of
freedom involved. Penjon, in 1893, described at some length the
relation of this sense to humor.

I have already pointed out that the appreciation of law, of order,
of harmony and of those things that are inimical to life and freedom
begets a sober mental attitude, the intensity of which varies with the
weightiness of the matter and the issues involved. Now if, when deal-
ing with such matters, the thinking process continues organized and
controlled and progresses towards an end, it is termed rational. But if
the mental tension exceeds the capacity for controlled thinking, brought
on by the sudden triumph of wrong and evil values, disruption of the
thinking process at once ensues, accompanied by an unpleasant emotion
ranging from mild disappointment to the tragic; if, on the contrary,
the disruption is caused by the sudden triumph of good values, a
pleasant emotion results. In either case organized and rational
processes give way to those of an uncontrolled and emotional sort. The
mental stream has had its banks torn away and its forward movement
stopped, voluntary movements are replaced by hereditary. In the more
intense forms a reversion to primitive conditions may occur; for we
then do and say things that may shame us in our sober moments. Now
the humor process occurs in just such a disrupted consciousness in-
duced hy the triumph of good and pleasurable values preceded by a
mental tension similar, but not always equal, to that preceding emo-
tions. The common and quiet forms of humor usually occur in a
consciousness that has been running at its usual strength and depth,
sufficiently organized to command the situation, assume a definite form
and take on a certain strength of surface tension. (The term surface
tension simply extends the water metaphors of psychology in a logical
direction. I use it to indicate the impervious condition of conscious-
ness formed in any attentive state, the strength of the surface tension
being in direct proportion to the intensity of attention.) The func-
tion of the humor stimulus consists in cutting the surface tension, in
taking the hide off of consciousness as it were, and in breaking up in
part only its organization, which is at once followed by the humor
feeling — the next link in the conscious chain. The principal elements
in the humor process consist (1) of the perception of the stimulus,
(2) the sense of freedom, (3) its recognition. These elements are each
suffused by a pleasurable tone and produce by their total synthesis the

i52 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

unique humor tone. The uniqueness of the tone is the crux of the
matter. The mental tension preceding the humor process, although
an essential condition thereto, is not a differentium, for it precedes any
and all emotional states.

The clue lies in the nature of the humor stimulus, and the relation
sustained to it by the individual. This is in line with Dr. Dewey's
theory of the differentia among the several emotions themselves. He
holds that each emotion is marked off from other emotions by the
different reactions produced by the exciting fact. I have indicated that
the humor stimulus belongs to an order of knowledge whose laws, uni-
formities, manners and customs have arisen since the human mind has
attained its present estate. Contrast with the humorous stimuli the
non-humorous, and it appears, humanly speaking, that the latter has
always existed. The heavens, the laws of matter, cosmic forces of
whatever sort, were in full swing when human consciousness dawned,
their operation has participated in mind evolution and to that extent
has impressed law and order upon it. Therefore, when we are engaged
with these things, sober thinking, pleasant or unpleasant emotions, are
the outcome, but never humor. But it will be noticed that the humor-
ous stimuli consist of departures, of exaggerations, even of violations of
the laws, uniformities, concepts and what not that have evolved out
of man's experience. The significant fact for humor is that these
departures, and exaggerations do not disturb the recognized values of
good and evil. The mind maintains all the while a disinterested atti-
tude toward the object of its activity. We seek neither to correct nor
further to exaggerate the departure from the normal. It is time to
feel and not to act. We enter into aesthetic rather than practical rela-
tions with the object of our humor ; should we seek the practical, humor
at once ceases, issuing perhaps, in bitterness or joy, sarcasm or flattery,
indignation or admiration.8 Penjon,9 writing upon this point, says :

August, 1893.

I shall have to distinguish these varieties of the comic laugh, sometimes so
near to tears and often so cruel. But if one separates, as must be done, the
causes which too easily deform the comic and make of it an emotion of wicked-
ness or bitterness, the comic emotion will appear purely disinterested. I mean
by this that the object or the event which is the occasion of the comic excludes
every idea of loss or of profit, that it makes us conceive neither hope nor fear
and seems to us at the same time neither advantageous nor harmful to any
one; it is worth in itself what it is worth without adding to our idea of it any
consideration of end or ideal. The comic emotion is then essentially a play
emotion.

The humor process then, like play, is its own end and justification.
The kinship between humor and play already indicated not only sug-

8 For subjective proof of this one may read Benjamin Franklin's " Polly
Baker's Defense " ; also Dickens's satire on American life in " Martin Chuz-
zlewit."

9 Penjon, A., " Le Eire et la Liberty," Revue Philosophique, pp. 113-140,

NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF HUMOR 153

gests relationships between humor and freedom, which Penjon has so
well worked out, and between humor and aesthetics, long ago indicated
by Kant and recently by Lipps, but that mental activity so long inter-
preted as play should be credited to humor. I have already indicated
the survival value of humor for superstitions. It doubtless performs
a similar and larger function for play. Humor, then, is an end in
itself. It is disinterested in its object. This fact constitutes it first
differentium.

I have already indicated that the sense of freedom is a constituent
element in the humor process. Its consideration is next in order. To
that end I submit some of the evidence as it had formed in my own
mind before meeting with Penjon's more extended account. The
family and guests are seated about the fireside enjoying the moments
of silence. The only light is that of the glowing embers. A smoulder-
ing bit of bark suddenly flashes up and a smile plays over the faces
of the silent group. The stroke of a sweet-toned clock, or a sneeze,
or the dropping and rolling of a sewing thimble or a ball of yarn pro-
duces under similar conditions the same effect. A group of boys are
seated on the bank of a bathing pond apparently gazing at the water's
glassy surface. Suddenly it is broken by a few drops of rain out of a
cloudless sky. The boys smile. The humor in such cases is weak and
simple. At such times consciousness is damped down to dreamy
monotonous processes under lax attention, and the mild humor results
from the sudden, delicate and harmless stimulus piercing its surface
tension, disrupting its feeble structure, and permitting it to flow in a
more free and spontaneous fashion. This simple type finds verification
writ large in every-day life. Objects and actions of little or no
inherent humor may become excruciatingly humorous under hard and
tense conditions. " Snickerin' at nothin' " in the schoolroom, giggling
before strangers and company, especially when at the table, the in-
creasing intensity of the annoying return waves of humor on solemn
occasions, are cases in point. Members of college glee clubs inform me
that they see humor in everything while on their vacation musical
tours. Darwin records that the German soldiers before the siege of
Paris, after strong excitement from exposure to extreme danger, were
particularly apt to burst into laughter at the smallest joke. I have
received abundant reliable evidence that the sufferers of the San Fran-
cisco earthquake, while enduring intense mental strain, burst into
laughter on the slightest provocation. This and like cases should not
be confounded with hysteria, which may occur unaccompanied by mental
strain. The history of humorous literature discloses the fact that it is
most prolific in those crises and changes in human affairs at which the
consciousness of freedom breaks out. The work of the cartoonist is
most vigorous and poignant when official tyranny and high-handed
abuses are laying heavy hands on the public. We recall the heroic

i54 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

work of Th. Nast10 during the brazen days of the Tweed Eing.
Martin11 observes that the parody, was first introduced during the
performance of Greek tragedies to relieve the audience from the intense
mental strain. In the severe atmosphere of the king's court the court
fool was an important adjunct. In reality his was the freest per-
sonality of the group, the king not excepted. A most striking example
of this in literature is that of King Lear and his fool.

These considerations indicate an intimate kinship between the
humor process and the sense of freedom. The real relation becomes
apparent when the nature of the stimulus is taken into account. It
has already been shown that the humor stimulus violates and breaks
up the order and mechanism about us. It appears as the only objective
fact in our experience that dares to defy the social order with impunity,
that can violate ruthlessly, without pain and without apology, the
human contrivances about us, and thereby not only remind us that
freedom is an abiding reality, but that we may escape, temporarily at
least, from the uniformities and mechanisms of life. We are rather
chary of an over-scientific game, one in which luck and spontaneity are
entirely supplanted by principles and rigid regulations. Speaking of
a game or a contest as a " dead sure thing " is an implication that
spontaneity and life are inoperative. Any instrument, therefore, that
reveals freedom to us through the veil of mechanism and the social
order will produce pleasure. Play, art and the humor stimulus are
such instruments ; play is largely for the young, art for the trained and
educated, but the humor stimulus is for every one. The second dif-
ferentium of the humor process, therefore, is the sense of freedom.

The failure to see that the sense of freedom is a constituent part of
humor is doubtless responsible for the " superiority " (and its opposite
statement "degradation") theory. The sense of power is pleasur-
able, but not humorous, for the reasons that (1) the sense of power
contains an element of practical relationship and (2) the humor stim-
ulus does not make us aware of power. Incongruity, descending or
otherwise, all disorders of time and space relations in our actions,
customs and language, deceived expectation, all disorders of mechanized
living movements are only humorous when they excite the sense of
freedom. Incongruities are not inherently humorous. They may be-
come excitants of humor by revealing freedom behind human uniformi-
ties. It would appear then that the multiplicity of humor theories
may be resolved into the freedom theory. The theories hitherto ad-
vanced have been more a classification of humorous stimuli than an
explanation of humor as a mental process.

A cross section of our adult mental life shows three interrelated
aspects: (1) an aspect composed of hereditary factors (unlearned
reactions), (2) a well-defined aspect of acquired factors or mechanisms

10 " Nast, Th., His Period and His Pictures," The Macmillan Company, 1904.
"Martin, A. S., "Parody," p. 1.

NATURE, ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF HUMOR 155

(learned reactions), composed of what the individual does for himself
and what is done for him, and (3) an ill-defined aspect that permeates
the other two and in addition occupies a separate existence of its own
made up of unmechanized and elementary mental factors. The second
aspect will be recognized as intelligence. Professor Boyce12 calls it
" docility." It might be termed mechanized mind in that it represents
mind reduced to law and habit. Getting on in the world is dependent
to a degree on a certain quantum of mechanized mind. Common
speech employs such terms as habit, adjustment, education to designate
such an equipment. Several processes are involved in its making, such
as imitation, learning by " trial and error," by tradition and by
" understanding." Of these ways, those that make the most of
voluntary attention are the quickest in results and the most extrav-
agant with mental energy; here it is that mental tension reaches its
highest pitch. Relief comes in a variety of well-known ways, humor
perhaps being the most unique of the lot, from the fact that it accom-
plishes its purpose with the least expenditure of mental energy and at
a time, too, when the individual can ill afford to make sacrifices in the
interest of recreation. Considering then the nature of humor as a
mental process, and the nature of its stimulus, together with the con-
ditions under which it appears, it seems highly probable that it emerged
as a distinctive process from states of inattentive-freedom immediately
preceded by states of necessary-attention.

TV. The Functions of Humor

The psychical function of humor is to delicately cut the surface
tension of consciousness and disarrange its structure to the end that it
may begin again from a -new and strengthened base. It permits our
mental forces to reform under cover, as it were, while the battle is
still on. Then, too, it clarifies the field and reveals the strategic
points, or, to change the figure, it pulls off the mask and exposes the
real man. In fact, humor is an instrument to aid in the approach to
the realities of life- — not metaphysical, but real, realities !

The physiological function is common knowledge. Its influence on
adipose tissue has passed into a proverb, and Kant cherished the
belief that laughter had a beneficent effect upon our entire vegetative
life. Hecker advocated that it relieved the angemia of the brain in-
duced by the tickle.

Its biological function in my judgment is far more unique in
mental economy than its nature as a process. I have already referred
to the unmechanized aspect of mind, a matter more readily believed
than easily proved. To adduce adequate evidence of its existence and
of the extent of its magnitude and importance over the mechanized and
hereditary portions of mind would lead us too far afield. For a better

12 Royce, Josiah, " Outlines of Psychology," p. 38.

156 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

appreciation of the problem, however, a few considerations on the point
seem worth while. First, we register our belief in its existence by such
expressions as " mind growth," naivete, self-activity, spontaneity,
genius, " mental initiative," and by more remote terms like open mind,
youthful mind, unprejudiced mind, simple mind. Second, many stu-
dents of mind tacitly accept it and forthwith attempt its description.
This is clone by Professor Eoyce in his " Outlines of Psychology."
Professor Shaler expresses his conviction of its existence as follows :

One of the results of the marvelously swift, absolutely free development of
man's spirit is that there has as yet been insufficient time for it to become
organized as are the conditions of the body. Working in the instinctive manner
in which the lower species do their complicated work through the fore-deter-
mined mental processes we term instincts, there are always gauges and stand-
ards for the endeavors in the mind as there are in the bodily frame. With us,
however, all kinds of thinking are still a hurly burly, a confusion, to which
time and culture may possibly bring something like the order it has in the
lower life, but which probably is ever to remain in its present uncontrolled
shape.13

Third, biologists are generally agreed that the human hand, the vocal
organs and the cerebral cortex have developed possibilities far beyond
present realization. Their possibilities are as yet unknown. The
capacity of the cortex appears to be infinite with only a small portion
reduced to law and order. If we can so confidently assert unlimited
capacity of these physical structures, then any lesser conception of mind
is, indeed, an untenable one. It does not yet appear what we shall be,
but there is a general agreement that the immediate path of evolution
will be spiritual rather than physical. And if spiritual, it can only
go on in the free portion of mind, in those parts not yet harnessed to
matter and frozen into laws and habits. Of course there is universal
agreement that the mind should be mechanized to the extent of the
needs of common life, of routine business, of the alphabets of learning
and of the elements of culture, but anything beyond these points is
inimical not only to individual development, but to racial evolution.
While, on the other hand, influences that tend to check mechanization
and to incline the mind to grapple with the ideal, the novel, the reali-
ties rather than the formalities of life prolong the possibilities of
spiritual development. Humor and play are two such influences, with
the honors in favor of humor. It stands guard at the dividing line
between free and mechanized mind, and like play, it keeps the indivi-
dual young, projects the best of youth into adult life, sets metes and
bounds to " docility " and prevents the mental life of the race from
hardening into instinctive and hereditary forms of action. It saves
to the world its geniuses and saves the individual from the blighting
influence of commercial and utilitarian ideals,

13 Shaler, N. S., " The Measure of Greatness," Atlantic Monthly, December,
1900, p. 751.

SOILED PAPER MONEY 157

A BACTERIOLOGICAL STUDY OF SOILED PAPER MONEY

By warren w. hilditch

THE SHEFFIELD LABORATORY OF BACTERIOLOGY AND HYGIENE, YALE UNIVERSITY

IT is generally acknowledged to-day that little progress can be made
in sanitation or hygiene without the general cooperation of the
public. To obtain this cooperation, it is essential that the people be
correctly informed upon all sanitary or hygienic subjects; for should
it be found that the demands for this or that improvement are not
based upon true scientific facts, how can success be hoped for, when a
reallv essential reform is brought forth?

All will agree that soiled paper money is at least not a thing of
beauty, and the unpleasant odors and filth accompanying some bills
offend every esthetic sense, and give -good foundation for the demand
for a more frequent issue or redemption of our currency by the govern-
ment. Everybody who has traveled abroad will admit that our paper
currency is a disgrace when compared to the clean, crisp money to be
found in many of the foreign countries, where soiled or worn bills are
almost unknown.

In our arguments for clean money, should we include the one which
claims that soiled paper money is a frequent medium for the trans-
mission of infectious diseases? The popular opinion to-day is that
paper money is very filthy and extremely dangerous to handle, as on it
may be found any and all kinds of disease germs known to science.
Many people, especially women, have a dread and horror of dirty money
and often insist on clean bills when getting change; yet cashiers and
bank tellers very seldom think of the filth on the money, and they have
no aversion for it. Physicians often seem eager to blame our currency
for the spread of disease or the cause of death, especially when it is
difficult to find out the true source of infection.

The frequent occurrence of diphtheria and tuberculosis led me to
be especially interested in attempts to find Bacillus diphtheria? and the
tubercle bacillus on money, and thus prove it to be one medium for
the transmission of these diseases. The soiled money used for this
study was the dirtiest I could obtain from various sources, such as
railroad, trolley and theatre ticket offices, banks, drug stores and indi-
viduals in different parts of the state. Some of the bills were much
more worn than others, being very soft, cracked and soiled, with frayed
edges.

Each bill was thoroughly brushed in twenty-five cubic centimeters
of sterile physiological salt solution, the work being carried on under

158 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

a glass jar to avoid contamination from the air. In order to estimate
the number of bacteria present, 0.5 c.c. of this wash water were
diluted with 10 c.c. of physiological salt solution and three series of
agar plates were poured, using 0.2, 0.3 and 0.5 c.c. of this dilution.
The wash fluid was then measured and centrifugated, the coarse
particles of dirt and paper thus thrown down were filtered off and the
fluid again centrifugated. With the sediment of bacteria and fine dirt
obtained in this manner, I inoculated three bouillon tubes in order to
look for streptococci and other forms that might develop. Ten tubes
of serum were smeared for the detection of Bacillus diphtheria7, while
the rest of the sediment was then carefully injected subcutaneously into
a guinea pig. The animals were closely observed for several days so
that in case of a fatality an autopsy could be performed immediately
after death and the lesions thus more correctly observed. All media
used for this experiment were prepared according to the standard
method of the American Public Health Association, with a final re-
action of + 0.8 (0.8 per cent. acid).

At first I intended to make a study of only twelve bills, since it
required a full week to complete the study of each bill; but the ap-
pearance in the daily press of accounts of the present agitation for
clean money led me to make a total of twenty-four examinations. In
twenty of these all the sediment was injected into guinea pigs, in order
to allow the development of tuberculosis or septicaemias that might be
caused by the bacteria in the sediment; in the other four, the sedi-
ment was used for smearing serum plates to detect Bacillus diphtheria.

It was surprising to find the flora so constant, Staphylococcus
pyogenes alius being by far the most common form present, with
various members of the subtilis group next; Staphylococcus pyogenes
aureus was found on all bills, but not in large numbers. The follow-
ing were found on some bills, but always few in number; Staphylococcus
cereus albus, a streptothrix, Sarcina lutea, streptococci and in one in-
stance, Bacillus xerosis. Other chromogenic bacteria were frequently
found but not identified.

The numbers of bacteria present on the bills ranged from 14,000 up
to 586,000, with an average for twenty-one bills of 142,000. There
seemed to be no connection between the amount of dirt and the
number of bacteria present; the cleanest-looking bill that I used had
next to the highest count (405,000), while the bill that looked the
dirtiest had but 38,000. When a bill has been in circulation for a short
time and has become somewhat cracked, and its peculiar glaze worn off,
the bacteria very easily cling to it without the presence of dirt and
grease.

All inoculations gave negative results, the time limit being placed at
from six to seven weeks. All of the guinea pigs showed more or less
local reaction, with swelling of the lymph glands of the groin, but

SOILED PAPER MONEY 159

none gave any indication of even temporary illness. Inoculations of
pure cultures of staphylococci, as well as of Bacillus verosis (which
was at first suspected of being Bacillus diphtheria;) also gave negative
results.

From the observations that I have made, it would seem that the
bacteria present on paper money are non-vinttent and the forms most
common are the air forms. Could the loss of virulence be due to dry-
ing, the bills having a peculiar dry feeling, no matter how moist the
air ; or is there some antiseptic action in the ink used for the printing
of the bills ? I have not taken up the question as to why the bacteria
found on money are without virulence, but have confined this study
to a careful search for pathogenic forms that might be present on the
bills.

The literature on this subject is exceedingly scanty. I have been
unable to find any report upon any good scientific work done along this
line. Inquiry at the Congressional Library at Washington revealed
only four articles — one in Spanish, one in German and two in English,
while inquiry among a number of scientific men failed to give me any
further assistance with the literature upon the subject of the trans-
mission of infectious diseases through paper money.

That the interest in dirty money, or desire for clean money, is not
of recent origin is shown in an article by Dr. Otto Miiller,1 which
appeared in 1879. He suggests that money is one means of transmit-
ting the infectious diseases, and although it is extremely difficult to
prove an actual case, it certainly offers possibilities. He lays par-
ticular emphasis upon the pernicious habit of giving coins to children
to play with, especially when they are sick; and also the habit of keep-
ing money under bed pillows, or in commodes or closets where linen
or food is kept.

Drs. Acosta and Eossi2 reported in a Havana journal the results
of bacteriological examinations of bank notes made by them. They
examined two bills that had been in circulation for some time and
found them loaded with germs of various kinds and degrees of malig-
nancy. Cultures were made from the scrapings of the notes and these
were injected into the peritoneal cavity of rats and guinea-pigs, most
of which died within twenty-four hours, the post-mortem examinations
showing signs of peritonitis and congestion of the liver and kidneys.
They did not identify any of those germs having " various degrees of
malignancy." The fact that the animals died within twenty-four
hours indicates that death was not due to the action of any one or more
pathogenic forms that might have been present, but rather to the great
numbers of bacteria suddenly thrown into the peritoneal cavity.

*"Das Geld, ein Krankheitsvermittler," Monatsblatt f. Offentliche Oesund-
heitspflege, 1879, No. 2, p. 173.

2 Medical Record, August 27, 1892.

i6o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fifteen years ago Dr. J. C. Graham,3 of Columbus, Ohio, carried
on a study of soiled paper money, to furnish data to be used as the
basis of a bill placed before Congress for a more frequent redemption
of damaged paper currency. He examined fourteen bills, simply
shaking them in 50 c.c. of distilled water and adding portions
(0.1 c.c.) of this wash fluid to gelatin, for plating.

Agar was used twice, with resulting growth only once; but the
author presumes that not all microbes present developed, since many
pathogenic forms, especially Bacillus diphtheria? and the tubercle ba-
cillus, will not grow at a temperature much below that of the body, or
on the media used. He was able to recognize only Bacillus subtilis.
To determine the pathogenic characteristics, only two inoculations were
made; a twenty-four hour bouillon culture of an unknown bacillus
was injected subcutaneously, into a full-grown rabbit, with negative
results, excepting a slight rise of temperature. For the second inocu-
lation, the wash fluid from a bill was placed in the incubator for forty-
eight hours, and fifteen minims of this were injected into the peritoneal
cavity of a rabbit, with negative results. He usually found only two
or three species, but in one case claimed to have found five; three
bacilli, one of them a spore form, an ordinary micrococcus and a dip-
lococcus. One bill he estimated to have the enormous number of
901,320,000 bacteria upon it. He sums up his article by saying that
" Money may be a source of danger by transmitting diseases."

Personally, I can not see that the object of Graham's study was
accomplished, for no data were given which could support a bill for a
more frequent redemption of our paper currency. The author himself
saw the faults of his experiments when he presumed that not all bac-
teria present developed, especially since the ones in which he was most
interested, the pathogenic forms, particularly, Bacillus diphtheria and
the tubercle bacillus, would not grow at a temperature much below that
of the body or on the media used; yet he did not attempt to overcome
these faults.

In Bevista Medica de Bogota of July, 1904,4 there is an article on
" The Spread of Infectious Diseases by Paper Money." The author
(his name was not given) suggests that the rapid increase of leprosy,
in a certain locality during the past three years, may be due to the
money in circulation, and he suggests a special currency for lepers.
A bacteriological study was made by macerating some bills (twenty)
in sterile, distilled water and allowing the wash to stand two or three
days in a cylinder. The sediment was pipetted off and smears of it
examined. The only germ identified was Bacillus subtilis, though

3"A Bacteriological Study of Soiled Paper Money," Columbus (O.) Med-
ical Journal, Vol. XI., 1892-93, p. 391.

4 " Del Contagio par el papel moneda," Revista Medica de Bogota, Julis,
1904, No. 291, p. 355.

SOILED PAPER MONEY 161

three or four other species were observed. No animal inoculations
were made.

Writing on " Money as a Carrier of Infection," 5 in 1895, C. I.
Wendt says : " A thoughtful man and careful student will want some
positive information on this subject." He reports upon the experi-
ments of Professor Bolton, on coins, showing that when a coin is placed
in the center of a sterile Petri dish, and agar which has been inocu-
lated with pathogenic organisms is poured over it, the medium imme-
diately surrounding the coin reveals no growth, but remains sterile,
due to the slight solution of copper, as shown by the potassium ferro-
cyanide reaction. These experiments should prove of some interest
and value by setting at rest any fears which might have been enter-
tained as to the power of coins to act as carriers of disease germs, and
by reason of grease and dirt on them, to allow of bacterial growth.

Thus we see that this subject has received no truly scientific study,
and those investigations that have been made show little or no merit.
Of the various forms of bacteria found upon the dirty bills only
Bacillus sub tilis was identified, and no trace of any pathogenic forms
could be found, through either cultures or animal experiments. Inocu-
lations were made in only a few cases, and these all proved negative.
In the study upon coins no attempt was made to find what forms of
bacteria are common on them, and the results given above do not show
coins to be incapable of carrying disease germs, but merely indicate
that coins placed in certain media yield enough copper for solution to
prevent the growth of bacteria. Coins, as we handle them, do not
usually have moisture upon them, and the dry alloy has no antiseptic
action ; so we should expect to^ find some bacteria upon coins, as on
the bills.

My attention was first called to the present agitation for clean
money by articles appearing in the New Haven Register and other
papers, some weeks after the beginning of this study. Eeference was
made to " Clean Money Morrison," whom I found on inquiry to be
A. Cressy Morrison, of New York, and the origin .of all the articles in
the daily press and magazines of the country, to be his pamphlet
" Clean Money— Can We Have It ? If Not, Why?" Inquiring of
Mr. Morrison for reference to any work that he might have done along
this line, I was referred to an enclosed copy of his pamphlet and cir-
cular letter. This pamphlet was " offered to a carefully selected list
of 1,000 of the leading newspapers and magazines of the country, . . .
and, with a view to the great value of simultaneous publication, a date
of release was placed upon the article, ... it being presented for
editorial comment, judgment and criticism, with the hope that all or
part of it be printed."

8 Hahnemannian Institute, Philadelphia, Vol. II., No. 4, p. 4, February, 1895.

vol. Lxxni. — 11.

1 62 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Further quotation from this circular letter aptly describes this
recent agitation : " There has been much talk on the subject, but no
' do/ " for Mr. Morrison gives no experimental evidence as a basis for
this agitation, but says "the statistics regarding germs and microbes
found on coins and bills are from one of the most eminent chemists of
New York/' who, at the instance of Mr. Morrison, made an especial
investigation and found that money is one of the most effective ways
by which contagious diseases are disseminated, especially loathsome
diseases and " the white man's plague.'?

The statistics, as given, are from the Eesearch Laboratory of the
Board of Health of New York; pennies averaged 26 living bacteria
each; dimes, 40; moderately clean bills, 2,250, and dirty bills, 73,000
living bacteria each. In order to have these statistics at first hand,
I wrote to Dr. Park, of the Eesearch Laboratory, who informed me
that the only study made upon bacteria on money, in his laboratory,
was completed some years ago. He also said : " We found paper money
to be similar to other paper and rags and capable of carrying living
tubercle and diphtheria bacilli for some days or longer. We have
never found any evidence whatever of the actual transfer of disease
through money."

Mr. Morrison outlines clearly his plan for clean sanitary bills and
coins: (1) a much larger issue by the government of bills of small
denominations, so that there shall be plenty of new money to redeem
the old; (2) free registry of all bills sent to the treasurer of the United
States for redemption; (3) the establishment in all states of central
government stations to which money may be sent by all banks to be
cleansed and polished; (4) the antiseptic cleansing by all banks, stores
and corporations, of all coins and bills passing through them; and
last, that every individual cleanse and disinfect all money which he
receives.

I certainly agree with Mr. Morrison that the government should
issue enough new bills of small denominations to replace the old, and
that it would be a good plan to allow the people to cooperate in the
redeeming of the old bills by making the registry of all bills sent to
the treasurer for redemption, free. As for the establishment in all
states of government stations for cleansing money, would the expense
involved be justified, when we consider that not a single case is on
record where an infectious disease has been transmitted through soiled
money ? Is there any method known whereby we can sterilize a stack
of tightly bound bills; or will each bill be sterilized separately, per-
haps by being spread on a continuous belt passing through a disin-
fecting solution? And would not the process of sterilization greatly
diminish the (non-bacterial) "life" of a bill?

When one bank official of New Haven was informed about the
suggestion that banks, stores and corporations should sterilize all money

SOILED PAPER MONEY 16

»>

that passed through them, he asked, " What good would it accomplish
to sterilize the same bill two or three times a week? It is surprising
how frequently a bill returns to the bank. It is given to one depositor,
who uses it for change ; soon another depositor obtains it through trade,
and when the next deposit is made the bill may again find itself within
the same bank."

With a more frequent redemption of soiled money, all these sug-
gestions for such cleanliness and the formation of clean money-clubs
may be avoided, and particularly if we learn to keep our fingers away
from our mouths both while and after counting money.

Very few people realize the expense and work involved in the
redemption of soiled money. Many banks to-day go to great expense
and trouble in redeeming soiled and worn bills in order to have crisp,
new ones on hand when the demand is made for them. Bankers and
business men do not prefer these crisp, new bills, for they can not be
counted with as much speed -and accuracy as those that have been in
circulation for some time. Some banks deposit all their soiled and
worn bills with another bank, and thus avoid the expense involved
m redeeming them.

All money for redemption must be sorted, so that all bills of one
denomination are together; and each denomination must have the
various species sorted, such as gold and silver certificates, United
States and " coin " notes, etc., while national bank notes must be kept
separately. Each package must be labeled with its face value and the
words " currency for redemption.''" National banks pay the express
charges on their notes one way, while on all other currency the sender
pays the charges both ways. The expense involved is not merely the
time taken for sorting the bills or the express rate of forty cents per
$1,000, but also the loss of interest and use of the bills while in
transit.

During the past six months a series of diseases and deaths have
been recorded as being caused by the handling of filthy money. The
stimulus for such an increase in the reports of these diseases can easily
be traced to abstracts of Morrison's pamphlet appearing in the news-
papers and magazines. In the New York Evening World, November
8, 1907, there was a report of the death of Edward H. Hall, from
" myxcedema," caused by moistening his thumbs on his lips when
counting money. Since myxcedema is not considered an infectious
disease, this case has no value. The Bridgeport Standard was quoted
in a local paper on February 25, 1908, concerning the death of John
M. Hopkirk, manager of the Mills Hotel No. 2, in New York, who died
from scarlatina, contracted, his physicians believe, through the handling
of the dirty bills coming from the slums of the city. Personal contact
with these poor people who have little or no medical attention and
among whom disease often appears in mild and unrecognized forms,

i64 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

seems to have been overlooked as the most probable means of trans-
mission in this case.

" Germs on Money, Harmless — Dr. Doty rejects a popular theory
as to source of infection " says the New York Times of February 23,
1908. Dr. A. H. Doty is the health officer of the port, New York.
I inquired of him whether he had been correctly quoted in that article
and he replied that it practically expressed his views; in fact, he gave
me a detailed account of his views which were given in his original
article appearing in the New York Tribune on November 11, 1907,
under the headlines, " No Disease on Money — Foolish to Consider It
as a Medium of Transmission." Dr. Doty writes : " This heading may
be a little misleading as I do not say that it is impossible for money
to act as a medium of infection, but that if it does occur, it is only in
rare instances, and this question must be settled principally by prac-
tical experience."

The United States treasurer, who has given this subject long and
careful consideration, is emphatic in his statement that there is not
the slightest evidence to show that the employees in his department
contract infectious diseases any oftener than others who are not in this
line of work. This also applies to bank tellers and clerks. Peculiarly
enough, those who claim that they have made a careful study of this
question do not seem to understand that persons whose vocation in-
volves the constant handling of money are susceptible to the same out-
side influences or exposure that others are, and are therefore equally
liable to contract infectious diseases in the ordinary way, and that
the handling of money does not render them immune to disease.

Dr. Park's statement that he found " paper money to be similar to
other paper and rags, and capable of carrying living tubercle and
diphtheria bacilli for some days or longer," does not mean that money
is a frequent medium for the transmission of infectious diseases.

Dr. Doty has for years made a study of infectious diseases, and
especially the medium of their transmission. He has collected reliable
statistics from paper manufacturers in this country, and has made a
personal investigation of the rag depots of Alexandria, Egypt; yet no
evidence has ever been found to show that these rag pickers are more
subject to infectious diseases than those not connected with the work.
" It is fortunate," he says, " that money constitutes such an unim-
portant factor in the transmission of disease, as nothing could be more
farcical, from a sanitary point of view, than an attempt to disinfect it,
although this has been seriously proposed. It is important that those
who have given this subject careful investigation should aid in the
education of the public, in order that they may have a proper under-
standing of the matter and not be alarmed by sensational literature
on the subject."

I do not claim that my study of twenty-four bills proves con-

SOILED PAPER MONEY 165

clusively that money is not a means for the transmission of infectious
diseases, but I do think that the absence of virulent disease germs shows
that soiled money is at least not a common means of transmission of
disease. In order to obtain any conclusive evidence on this point it
would be necessary to make a careful study of hundreds or even a
thousand bills from hospitals and private sick rooms, drug stores and
various other sources.

Emphasis must be given to the animal inoculations carried out in
connection with this study, for in a study of this kind they are much
more important than the culture experiments, when we consider the
susceptibility of guinea pigs to many of the infectious diseases, espe-
cially tuberculosis and diphtheria. There may develop within the
animal body other forms which would not be detected in a study of the
cultures or smears.

It is no surprise that the theoretical does not agree with the prac-
tical side of the subject under discussion. This is often the case,
especially when the subject is one which concerns the general public,
the majority of whom readily agrees with any one who says that
dirty money is a certain means of transmission of infectious diseases.
Why shouldn't this be so, when we think of the dirt and odors that
accompany some of our paper currency? The bills have been in con-
tact with many hands, not necessarily infected ones, but some that have
at least been in contact with sores or sputum. Certainly a black picture
could be painted and the possibilities made to appear enormous; yet
another view is clearly set forth by a bank teller who said : " If one stops
to think, monejr can't be a very common means of transmission, for if
it were there wouldn't be so many of us alive to-day; the escape from
sure death of those whose duty calls for the constant handling of
money, is certainly not merely due to chance."

One conclusion that may be drawn, after a careful study of the
subject, is that " money constitutes an unimportant factor in the
transmission of disease." We want and certainly need a more fre-
quent redemption of our soiled and worn bills, yet the facts and evi-
dences at hand do not justify us in alarming the public needlessly by
rash statements concerning our currency. Admitting the possibility
that money may act as a medium of transmission, certainly the failure
of any virulent disease germs to manifest themselves in the foregoing
experiments will allow us to feel a bit easier in regard to dirty money.

1 66 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

FACTS CONCEKNING MILK

By A. E. P. ROCKWELL, M.D.

WORCESTER, MASS.

THE cow is the foster mother of our civilization. And fortunate
are we in being able to secure the services of this humble animal
in our endeavors to arrest the most important cause of race suicide.
For our greatest menace in this direction resides in the fact that an
alarming proportion of infants must be vicariously nourished at some
period of their development by the cow.

Owing, on the one hand, to that sinister development of our in-
dustrial system which compels many women to engage in competitive
factory labor, and the invasion by women of almost every field of
human activity; and, on the other hand, to the unwholesome influences
surrounding those immersed in the fatuitous struggle for social
supremacy, we find that each year rewards us with a larger percentage
of women who are unable to nurse their children.

One way, then, of registering the progress of civilization is in noting
the constantly increasing proportion of infants in the rearing of which
artificial feeding plays an important part.

It may, with some truth, be urged that owing to the educational
influence of mothers' clubs and the like, and the entreaties of physi-
cians, there is among a certain class of women possibly a greater desire
to nurse their little ones; but of what avail is this inclination if their
previous condition of servitude to a life not in consonance with this
result, renders them physically unable to perform this important func-
tion? And it must be noted that this physical unfitness is not neces-
sarily due to a failure on the part of the glands to which the duty of
supplying lacteal fluid is assigned.

Many mothers are able to furnish for their children a fluid, but it
can scarcely be designated as milk, owing to the fact that the blighting
effects of unhappy or unwholesome emotions so common among wage
earners, the over-worked housewife and the social aspirant render the
milk entirely unfit for food.

To-day we live under high-pressure conditions, with accompanying
wide fluctuations in emotional experiences, developing resultant temper-
amental effects notably prejudicial to the manufacture of a wholesome
milk in the nursing mother. The chemistry of the emotions plays an
important part in the welfare of the child.

FACTS CONCERNING MILK 167

It has been shown that as the result of vexation, disappointment,
grief and kindred emotions certain highly organized chemical products
are elaborated within the economy which find their way into the blood
stream and thus into the mother's milk, rendering it more or less harm-
ful to the infant receiving it. Hence, if it were possible during the
period of lactation to transmute all women representative of the classes
above indicated into wholesome, phlegmatic German peasant mothers,
our milk problem in its multiform aspects would be wonderfully
simplified. The present social order not only makes impossible such
conditions, but we must calmly face a future in which maternal in-
efficiency in this regard will be even accentuated.

Some of us believe the solution of the vexed question of the over-
population of the earth is resident in this problem of artificial feeding,
particularly as certain statistical relationships seem to be springing up
between the notorious modern birth rate and inefficient maternal
nourishment, and we are learning that unsatisfactory as is artificial
feeding at its best and perilous as it may become, it is, in any event,
much more likely to be productive of good results than the attempt
to nourish an infant on the milk of the mother physically, occupa-
tionally and temperamentally unfit.

Again, our apprehension must not be transformed into despair, for
unremitting educational endeavors will ultimately insure a better milk
supply and greater intelligence in its use. So while milk is regarded
the most perfect of all foods for the young or old, in sickness or in
health, the milk problem is virtually the children's problem, for cows'
milk, modified in accordance with the requirements of each particular
case, has been found to be the only practical method by which nature's
plans for early nourishment of the human infant may be successfully
imitated. Any attempt" at the solution of this question, therefore,
which fails to emphasize our guardianship of the interests of the
child would be calamitous.

Surgeon-General Walter Wyman of the Public Health Service says :

The steady decrease in general mortality does not apply to infants. It is
recognized that gastro-intestinal disease is the largest single factor determining
infant mortality. This enormous loss of potential wealth is of grave concern
to the state and worthy of most careful consideration.

Further he says :

Dr. Eager gives figures to prove that the high infant mortality may be
attributed almost entirely to impure milk.

Inasmuch as one child in every twenty in our large centers of popu-
lation dies before five years of age of maladies traceable directly or
indirectly to contaminated cows' milk, it may be well to outline very
briefly some of the properties of this indispensable food and a few of
the problems associated with its production and supply.

1 68 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Milk is at once the most important and the most perishable of all
food products. Fresh milk is the most perfect mechanical emulsion
known and contains roughly proteicls (albuminoid substances equiva-
lent in nature to the white of the egg) fat, in the form of minute
globules which are later represented as cream, milk sugar, certain
mineral salts and water. There is more or less fluctuation in the
proportion in which these substances appear in all milks, particularly
the milk of cows, owing chiefly to the development (in some instances
covering periods of many hundred years) of certain breeds of cattle,
possessing, among other qualities, certain characteristics as milk pro-
ducers. I say chiefly to the development of breeds, because repeated
experiments with various breeds have shown that it is not possible to
alter materially the proportion in which the various constituents of
milk appear in the milk of any given cow by any process of feeding yet
discovered.

Improved methods of feeding increase the total quantity of the
output, but not materially the quality, and any attempt to force by
feeding an increase in the percentage of any one of the ingredients in
the milk (particularly the fat content) may increase slightly for a
short time such content, but it soon drops to the normal for each
cow, and the experimenter has run the risk of ruining the animal
experimented upon.

A popular fallacy prevails which enshrines in the minds of the
uninformed the belief that milk having a large percentage of fat is
rich milk, and hence, the best milk. Milk rich in fat and the best
milk from both a physical and a chemical view are not synonymous
terms, either as a matter of domestic economy or as applied to its use
for infants. While all good milk must possess fat, the consideration of
the amount thereof from a nutritive standpoint is second to that of
the proteid content except in a certain few selected cases, which rarely
include babies or young children.

Dr. J. A. Gilbert, writing in The Medical Record (New York),

takes the view that this devotion to " rich " milk has no logical basis.

In our earnest search after a fat milk, he says, we have probably gone

too far. To quote from an editorial in The Hospital (London) which

notes Dr. Gilbert's opinion appreciatively:

The milk which is richest in cream is not, therefore, the most nutritious,
for the very simple reason that a rich milk is less easily digested and absorbed
than a milk in which the fat percentage is low. As far as its other constitu-
ents are concerned, a milk poor in fat is as valuable a food as a milk rich in fat.

Owing, then, to ignorance or personal interest, recent discussion of
the milk problem throughout the land has revolved around the per-
centage of fat in milk and undue prominence has been given this phase
of the question.

Protein is the most important nutritive content in all milks, and

FACTS CONCERNING MILK 169

is the one toward which breeding efforts and the attention of the con-
sumer should be directed. As protein, the tissue former, is the most
valuable constituent of milk, it follows that an endeavor to insure a
high percentage of this indispensable food element should be the aim
of any legislative enactments having in view the establishment of milk
standards (of which we hear so much in this day) and not the main-
tenance nor increase of the fat content. And when it is understood,
moreover, that as the fat content of milk increases, the tendency prob-
ably is toward the decrease of the proteid content, the folly of this
course becomes patent.

Legislative measures referable to the production, transportation,
sale and consumption of milk have had and will continue to have a
most important, direct and indirect influence upon the character of the
herds supplying the milk to the several communities in which such
legislation is operative.

As laws represent the will of the majority and as the majority in
this instance are the consumers, it behooves us, as such, to understand
what is desirable in the matter of milk and then through educational
effort work toward the attainment of it.

A word here regarding the leading characteristics of breeds of cattle
may not be amiss. All cattle may be roughly divided into three
general classes according to the purpose for which they are designed —
the beef breeds, the general purpose breeds and the dairy breeds, with
the last of which only we are concerned. The dairy breeds are again
roughly divided into two great classes.

First, those who give large quantities of milk containing a normal
proportion of fat divided into small globules. Of this type the Hol-
steins and Ayrshires are examples.

Second, those in whose milk a large percentage of fat is found in
the form of large globules but who in general are somewhat delicate
and comparatively small milkers.

Jerseys and Guernseys are typical of this class.

Before the introduction and general use of the separator, a device
which separates the cream by centrifugal force from the fresh milk,
the dairy breeds represented in the second class were in great demand,
because with their milk the cream rose quickly to the surface on
standing and was easily skimmed. The skimmed milk, however, of
these breeds has the bluish color, familiar to all housewives, and is
possessed of small nutritive value. Excessive fat production having
been developed at the expense of the food value contained in the
whole milk. Moreover, the fat globules are large, being about three
times the size of those of the breeds representative of the first class,
and hence much more difficult of digestion by children and most
invalids.

i7o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

In this connection, Chas. W. Townsend, M.D., of the Boston Float-
ing Hospital, says:

The quality of the fat of Jersey and Guernsey milk, aside from its quan-
tity, is in some infants a cause of digestive disturbance; I have many times
seen babies gain but slowly and show fatty stools on Jersey milk modifications,
even when the percentage of fat was low, while the same babies gained rapidly
and digested well the modifications having the same amount of fat, made with
the milk of Ayrshire, Holstein or common red cows.

Since centrifugalization was introduced much more attention has
been given to breeds giving more rational milk, for the separator
removes as easily and at the same cost the fat from a low as a high
percentage milk. Hence, the effort as indicated has been to develop
breeds which would produce skimmed milk which was nutritious and
regarding the manifold virtues of which as a food we need not enter
into here.

So highly developed are some of these breeds of the first class that
it is worthy of note that many individuals are to be found that will
give their weight of milk each month and total butter production for
the year, equivalent to one half their weight.

Hence, we find in breeds representing the first class, namely, the
Holsteins and the Ayrshires, the qualities particularly desirable in the
family cow, inasmuch as their milk is best for infants, and furnishes
a perfectly balanced ration alike for older children and adults.

Again, important as are the chemical analysis of milk and urgent
as is the necessity of its being delivered fresh and uncontaminated, the
question of the vigorous health and temperament of the individual cow
is quite as vital.

Let us then again consider the relative merits of the two classes
of dairy cows as heretofore indicated, in relation to their claim for
excellence in this indispensable particular. Mention will be made only
of the leading breed in each class in order to emphasize the illustra-
tion.

It is a well-known fact that the Jerseys, as bred and cared for in
this country, have a highly irritable nervous temperament, and are
more difficult to feed, rear and manage than any other breed.

The Holsteins, on the contrary, are a large, healthy breed of placid
temperament, great constitutional vigor, enormous digestive and pro-
ducing capacity, comparatively resistant to disease, and flourish to a
high degree in our trying climate. The same qualities which commend
the wet nurse in the performance of the function which the child's
natural mother is unable to perform, are those which should commend
to the community the cow which now, more than ever, sustains to the
infant population the relationship above indicated.

Common knowledge independent of scientific observation sustains
the fact that a nurse with poor or delicate digestion, sensitivelv and

FACTS CONCERNING MILK 171

highly organized, irritable nervous temperament, doubtful vital re-
source or resistance, is entirely unsuitable to rear a child. The same is
true of the cow, and her individual adaptability must now be sub-
jected to the same scrutiny. Many an infant has had its life imperiled
or has been lost owing to its receiving its nourishment from a nurse
who has suffered from disappointment, anger, hysteria, indigestion, lack
of exercise or the like.

Much of our artificially fed infant mortality is due, directly or
indirectly, to the presence in cows' milk of similar poisons generated
in nature's wonderful laboratory and as defiant of test-tube analysis
as are those other qualities in the milk of strong, hardy cows which,
for want of better names, we designate as vital energy or vital force.

Speaking of vitalizing power in the milk of certain cows as com-
pared with others, Professor Carlisle, of the Wisconsin Experiment
Station, says:

The point I wish to make here is that there is such a thing as vitality in
milk, and that it is of equal if not greater importance than is chemical com-
position especially for the milk supply of cities. And there can be no question
but that the vitality of the milk is closely associated with the vitality of the
animal producing it.

The effect, then, of laws requiring a high percentage of fat will be to
put a ban upon the most sturdy, healthy, normal, productive and
useful breed of cows the world has ever known, for they are to be
found in every country of the globe and probably produce more milk
and by-products than all other breeds combined. It will encourage
the sale of the milk product of a breed which is neither hardy nor
vigorous; which is pr*obably more susceptible to tuberculosis and other
diseases, owing partly to the fact that their delicate constitution requires
housing more months of the year than any other breed ; a breed giving
a milk not only entirely unsuited to the purposes of artificial feeding
of infants, but possessing excessive fat and other deleterious proper-
ties to such a degree that many of the cows of this breed are unable to
rear their own calves; a breed originating in a salubrious climate,
reared with the tenderest care, and brought to this inclement land to
be exposed to conditions unnatural to them or their ancestors and
therefore resulting in a milk product which, according to modern
standards, is undesirable in many ways.

Many state institutions throughout our commonwealths maintain
herds of Holsteins, some of which are among the finest in the land,
in the confident belief that it would be impossible to supply such an
abundant quantity of highly nourishing milk through the medium of
any other breed.

Thomas Morgan Fiotch, M.D., the distinguished authority on the
diseases of children, speaks as follows regarding the value of the milk
of this particular breed :

172 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

For instance, good Holstein milk is at times not salable on account of its
total solids not coming within the limits of the law (Massachusetts State
Standard). The law demands during winter 3.70 per cent, fat and 13 per cent,
solids, while in the summer 3 per cent, fat and 12 per cent, solids. As we all
know, the Holstein milk, unless the cows are especially fed, falls below this
standard. Now, from a medical point of view the Holstein milk is exactly
what we find best for infant feeding and it is an extremely good milk for any
one to drink.

The immense number of infants, however, who live entirely upon milk
should be taken into consideration in this question, and I believe that the
people should be allowed to buy this milk just as they should be allowed to
buy a milk modified to suit a special infant who is being taken care of.

Too much can not be said or done to encourage the production and
consumption of a food product which possesses nutritive elements of
the right kind in the proper proportion, and nourishing qualities of
such high value — a product which is essential to the proper develop-
ment of the child, upon the future health of .which the state becomes
dependent for its prosperit}^ a product which has made healthy, con-
tented and prosperous the nation, which for two thousand years has
enjoyed its benefits.

As we have seen, no cow can obey the mandate of a legislature,
no matter what liberty she may be allowed to exercise in the choice of
her food. Some protection against adulteration and other forms of
fraud in these selfish and greedy commercial days is necessary, but a
standard based upon the total fat and total solids not fat, in milk,
particularly when that fat percentage is placed so high that none of our
most useful and healthful breeds can produce her,d milk in compliance
with it, simply defeats the object for which it was designed.

For example, the milk test at the St. Louis Exposition was probably
the most scientifically conducted and most illuminating in results ever
made in this or any other country.

Among others the following groups competed in the tests: twenty-
five Jerseys, five Brown Swiss, fifteen Holsteins and twenty-five Short
Horns, not one of which produced milk up to the legal standard estab-
lished by some states, and yet these cattle had been selected and fitted
for an international exhibition, and were fed, groomed and tutored by
experts in the art of milk production. Some of the very animals,
valued perhaps at several thousand dollars, are producing milk in
several different commonwealths to-day, which if sampled by the state
inspector could put its owner in jail for violation of the law. More-
over, when we understand that the relative percentage of fat and solids
not fat, in milk, varies in each cow with the period of lactation, time
of day when the sample is taken, with the weather and seasons, the
physical condition, and many other contingencies, and when we realize
that two quarts from the same cow can differ; also two quarts from

FACTS CONCERNING MILK 173

the same milk pail and mixing tank, some of the difficulties in estab-
lishing a just, arbitrary standard may be appreciated.

It is difficult to induce the public to realize that refined methods
of analysis, the more careful attention to breeds and breeding, the
great difficulty of supplying from considerable distances, the ever-
increasing urban demand, the introduction of centrifugalization and
other important considerations have entirely changed the complexion
of the milk problem within a very recent period.

Many of us do not realize that much of the milk consumed in our
large cities is taken from herds kept as far as 300 miles or more from
the consumer, and when it is delivered to him is frequently forty-eight
hours old. The problems surrounding the transportation of such milk
in the summer season may be in part appreciated when we know that
the presence of 5,000 bacteria to the cubic centimeter is considered
a reasonably low count and that under favorable conditions this number
is capable of doubling by geometrical progression every half hour.

Samples of commercial milk taken in New York city recently
showed 35,200,000 bacteria to the cubic centimeter; London, 31,888,-
000; Washington, 22,134,000. That seventy-eight typhoid germs in
one cubic centimeter of milk increased in seven days to 440,000,000
furnishes an illustration of the possibilities in this direction, and when
one realizes that one cubic centimeter is equivalent to about sixteen
drops, some idea may be gained of the bacterial population of much of
the milk we drink.

Milk removed properly from a perfectly healthy cow, and kept in
receptacles previously sterilized, contains practically no bacteria, and
may at a low temperature be -preserved for days without material
change. When, however, these precautions are not observed the results
are as above indicated. Not all these germs are harmful, but many
varieties are exceptionally prejudicial to the health of children. Each
of 500 epidemics recently investigated, including typhoid fever, scarlet
fever and diphtheria were found to be caused by contaminated milk.
That 11 per cent, of milk samples examined from Washington con-
tained tuberculosis germs need not be considered as exceptional and
can be verified by the examination of data of a similar nature from
other cities. And when we understand that the milk supply of New
York city, for example, is derived from the product of 35,000 farms
and shipped from 700 creameries located in six different states, it is
easy to appreciate some of the difficulties surrounding the protection of
the community from the sources of infection contained in milk.

In recent years the prominence given to tubercular disease in cattle,
with the consequent appearance of the tuberculosis germ in the milk
of such cattle, has entirely overshadowed the importance of certain
other diseases in cows, likewise accompanied by the presence in the
milk of cows so suffering of enormous numbers of bacteria charncter-

i74 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

istic of such diseases. I refer particularly to the disease known as
" Mastitis," an inflammation of the udder accompanied by the pres-
ence of certain bacteria largely of the pus-forming type which are dis-
charged with the milk in enormous numbers.

While possibly a smaller number of cows suffer from this disease
than from tuberculosis (and herein probably lies the reason why this
important source of infantile mortality has been overlooked), many
cows not only suffer from repeated acute attacks in which far greater
numbers of these bacteria are eliminated with the milk than tuber-
cular germs in pulmonary tuberculosis or even tuberculosis of the
udder, but not a few suffer from a more or less intractable, chronic
type of this malady which renders them a never-failing fountain of
mischief.

Probably the major portion of the grave intestinal disturbances of
children are due directly or indirectly to the presence in milk of the
bacteria characteristic of this disease and the ptomains, toxins and
kindred substances which always accompany certain types of bacteria
activity. And notably is this true of milk, for it is a most excellent
example of what is known technically as a culture medium, meaning
a substance favoring in a high degree bacteria development and growtb.
Some one says : " Yes, while this is all very bad we can protect our-
selves by pasteurizing or sterilizing our milk." While either of these
processes properly carried out will destroy the germs or for a few hours
prevent their activity they can not destroy the ptomains or like highly
organized poisons already present, and as dangerous to human life as
they are crafty in eluding chemical analysis.

Pasteurization, then, the proper execution of which requires much
skill and training, removes from contaminated milk but part of the
danger while its palatability has been impaired and its nutritive proper-
ties somewhat altered, and we are obliged to drink the carcass of mil-
lions of bacteria still suspended in it. The tendency, moreover, of
pasteurization is to put a premium upon dirt, which gains entrance to
milk chiefly through careless methods in milking and caring for milk
after it leaves the cow which carries with it a great multitude of
bacteria and is the most important source of bacteria contamination
of milk.

It has been computed that the people of the City of Berlin drink in
one year many hundred pounds of cow-barn filth suspended in milk.

Milk so produced as to be free from dirt (unhappily not the milk
of commerce) may be considered also comparatively free from bacterial
growth.

Pure milk, fresh milk produced free from germ and dirt contamina-
tion in the stable and during handling and transportation, is the birth-
right of our children, is what we all desire and is the goal toward
winch the various boards of health, cattle inspection bureaus and

FACTS CONCERNING MILK 175

similar agencies of our commonwealths are striving for against heavy
odds.

Two great obstacles stand in the path :

1. The difficulty, even under repeated inspection of premises on
which milk is produced (inspection in some instances emanating from
four or five separate sources) to induce the producer to adopt cleanly
methods of production.

2. The increased cost to the consumer of milk so produced, a cost
which the poor man can not and the well-to-do are disinclined to meet.
For in many of our states it is doubtful if such milk as we would all
like to use could be delivered at our doors, under the conditions of
increased cost which prevails to-day, at 15 cents a quart and allow
the farmer and the retailer each a reasonable profit thereon; for in
farming, as in other lines of business, cost of production must include
interest on investment, taxes, depreciation, labor, raw material (hay,
grain and the like) insurance, and similar charges.

But what remedy may we hope to apply to extricate ourselves from
the present dilemma? Eather than fritter away the money and
energies of the various states in trying to maintain standards for fat
and solids not fat which are not only impossible of attainment, but a
constant menace to the farmer and a prolific source of irritation and
discontent to all concerned in the milk industry. Let us now con-
centrate our efforts upon an endeavor to insure a pure milk supply for
the children. This can best be done by taking the machinery of the
state boards of health and kindred agencies now employed in cattle and
milk inspections and direct their activities along the lines of a certified
milk supply which has been applied with measurable success in con-
nection with certain cities — the plan being to enlarge the scope of the
work, as at present conducted, so as to include all the dairies supplying
the commonwealth with milk whether situated within or without the
state.

Certified milk means that a dairy has been properly inspected by
trained and competent officials who give to the owner thereof a cer-
tificate allowing him to place upon the containers of milk leaving his
farm (for a certain period until a subsequent inspection is made) a
label indicating that the milk is absolutely clean and produced under
sanitary conditions by a healthy herd.

This plan minimizes the technicalities and red tape ordinarily at-
tending work of this nature and promises to vouchsafe to us and our
children a milk supply in character consonant with the demands of
the civilization in which we live, but it can not be secured unless a
majority of us demand it and are willing to pay for the additiona,
expense which it entails.

176 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

SHALL OTTK FOEEST WEALTH BE DESTROYED?

By THOMAS ELMER WILL
SECRETARY OF THE AMERICAN FORESTRY ASSOCIATION

IN" the sunny southland, stretching from Pennsylvania in the north-
east to Alabama in the southwest, are the Southern Appalachian
Mountains. These constitute not a single ridge or chain, but a zone or
belt composed of numerous parallel ridges, as the Alleghenies, Blue
Eidge, Black, Unakas, Smoky, etc. Connecting these ridges, often, are
cross ridges equaling in cases and even exceeding the longitudinal
ranges.

Surmounting these ranges at many points are lofty peaks. Of
these the chief, Mt. Mitchell, is 6,711 feet high; 46 more, a mile or
more apart, with 41 miles of divide, rise to an altitude of 6,000 feet,
while 288 others, with 300 miles of divide, reach a height of 5,000 feet
above the sea. Among these may be mentioned, in the Blue Eidge,
Grandfather Mountain, 5,964 feet, Pinnacle, 5.693 feet and Standing
Indian, 5,562 feet high. In the Smoky Mountains, Mount Guyot
reaches a height of 6,636 feet, and Clingmans Dome, 6,619 feet.

" Between these groups of mountains and far below them, though
still at an elevation of 2,000 feet or more above the sea, are the numer-
ous narrow valleys of this region." Many of them are marked by great
fertility and beauty.

Save on the highest peaks, or on the slopes where man has inter-
fered, these mountains are clad with a magnificent growth of forest.
Near the bases are found oaks, hickories, maples, chestnuts and tulip
poplars, suggesting in size the great trees of the Pacific coast. Higher,
one passes through forests of great hemlocks, chestnut oaks, beeches
and birches, and, still higher, through groves of spruce and balsam.
Near the tops, the balsams become dwarfed and are succeeded, largely,
by clusters of rhododendron and patches of grass fringed with flowers.

In this region, ranging from 60 inches in Georgia to 71 inches in
North Carolina, occurs the heaviest annual rainfall in the United
States, save on the Pacific coast. The water thus precipitated finds its
way to the sea, east, west, southeast or southwest, through practically
all the important rivers of the south. The Southern Appalachians
thus constitute the watershed for, practically, the entire region below
the Potomac and Ohio and east of the Mississippi. The descent of the
water from the mountainsides is marked by some of the most beautiful
cascades and waterfalls that ever gladdened human sight. Among

OUR FOREST WEALTH

177

&3i

Planting Pine Seeds, San Gabriel National Forest, California.

these may be named the Falls of Elk Creek, near Cranberry, N. C, the
Upper Falls of the Whitewater Eiver, the Lower Cullasaja Falls of
Macon County, N. C, and the Toccoa Falls of Habersham County, Ga.
Thus, with infinite variety of mountain and valley, forest and stream,
cascade and waterfall, beetling crag, bold precipice and dizzy gorge,
this entire region presents a scene of transcendent natural beauty and
sublimity.

As a national park and recreation ground this area has no equal in
the United States. Unlike the splendid but remote Yosemite, it is
within twenty-four hours' ride of 60,000,000 people. With modern
transportation facilities the cities of the east — New York, Boston,
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington; of the south — Charleston, At-
lanta, Xew Orleans, Nashville, Louisville; of the middle west — Cin-
cinnati, Cleveland, Indianapolis, St. Louis, Kansas City and Chicago —
are almost at its doors.

i78

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

OUR FOREST WEALTH 179

Such a recreation ground is a crying national necessity. As a
people,, we work too much and rest too little. Herbert Spencer, when
in America years ago, declared that we had heard enough of " the
gospel of work," and that what we most needed was " the gospel of
relaxation." Since then the situation has grown worse rather than
better. It is the old story of " all work and no play " ; and the effects
are seen in nervous prostration, insanity and suicide.

Again, from the economic standpoint this area is invaluable. It
contains our last remaining, important stand of hard woods. Forest
Service statistics, the prices of lumber and all wood products — mount-
ing by leaps and bounds — and common observation unite in testifying
that our timber resources are being consumed and wasted in prodigal
fashion and at a startling rate. The Southern Appalachian forests,
however, the hand of the spoiler has delayed to enter ; and, though the
supplies, once thought inexhaustible, of New England and the Great
Lake regions are practically gone, this area still contains a vast and
priceless stock of the choicest timber on the continent.

We have heard of the " new south." It is the industrial south ;
the south of the railroad, the furnace, the loom and the spindle.
From the purely agricultural, this section is rapidly entering upon the
manufacturing stage. Irrespective of the question of labor, for such
activity it enjoys some special advantages. Its staple, cotton, is near
the mill, and its water-power facilities are magnificent.

Like many other things, power is a creature of evolution; first, it
manifests through human strength ; then, through " the energizing of
brutes"; later, through wind and water crudely applied; and then, as
the Yankee said, through water " biled," releasing, thus, the titan,
steam, at whose feet, it has seemed, the very earth lay prostrate.

But the waning of the steam-engine is already in sight. New
powers are appearing on the scene; the next of which, we may well
believe, is electricity.

What a coal vein is to the steam-engine, a waterfall is to the
dynamo.

As indicated, the Southern Appalachians abound in magnificent
falls ; from these, electric power can be developed cheaply and in great
abundance. With the introduction of means of transmission it now
becomes possible, instead of carrying the plant to the power, to bring
the power to the plant. The gain is obvious.

The possibilities of electric power as applied to manufacturing
in the south may be appreciated when it is known that North Carolina,
South Carolina and Georgia alone maintain cotton mills operated by
water power which produce annually a product valued at over $60,000,-
000. " The water power of this southern region already developed or
being developed is estimated at 500.000 horse-power. The uncle-

i8o

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Rangers IIazzard and Beown, of Leadville National Forest, Colorado.

veloped water power is probably not less than 1,000,000 horse-power
more."1

The mighty interests here indicated are bound up with the preserva-
tion and perpetuation of the forests upon the Southern Appalachian
Mountain slopes. The value of water power is limited by the low
water flow. The question is not, How much water is discharged
annually? nor even, How great is the average flow per month? but
How great is the minimum ? Hence constancy and a reasonably large
volume are essential.

These are insured by the preservation of the forests, for the forest
mulch holds back the water precipitated by rainfall and thaws, and
discharges it gradually the year round. If, on the other hand, the
mountainsides are stripped of their vegetation and then, by fire and
floods, denuded of their soils, the water which, gradually supplied,
might have driven the mills, now descends in disastrous floods, only to
be followed by long periods of low water.

Agriculture is, of course, largely dependent upon natural irriga-
tion from the rivers fed from these mountains. To it the alternation
of flood and drought is as disastrous as to manufacturing bv water
power. Similarly, the great transportation interest of the south is
intimately concerned. Its profits are directly dependent upon ton-
nage, and tonnage is dependent upon the productiveness of the region
served.

What, now, is the situation of the south as respects the conserva-
tion of these interests ?

1 U. S. Senate report No. 2537.

OUR FOREST WEALTH

181

Three foes menace the forests. First is the exploiter of forest
lands. Chief among these is the small mountain farmer. In a region
never designed for agriculture he endeavors, with primitive appliances
and obsolete methods, to grub out for himself a scant subsistence. To
do this, he must sacrifice the trees.

Making a mountain farm, however, is quite a different thing from
maintaining it as a farm. Under the crude culture practised, a period
of from five to twenty years suffices to exhaust the land and send the
farmer farther up the slope. Here he repeats the process; and thus,
as he ascends, he leaves in his wake a tract of desolation, for the swift-
descending rains soon convert these cleared areas into irreclaimable
gullies.

Second come the exploiters of the woods themselves. Among
these may be mentioned the turpentine man, who, by a crude method
of extracting the resin, though a far less hurtful might be employed
with greater profit to him, is rapidly despoiling large areas of forest.
The tan-bark man, next, strips from the trees their bark, and leaves
their unused hulks to cumber the ground. The pulp man clears the
ground of all trees — old, young, large and small — and so prevents the
forest from renewing itself. Finally, as the bonanza farmer attacks
the Dakota wheat-field, the lumberman, with methods long tested and
equipment perfected, invades the forests, and the monarchs fall before
him like grain before the sickle of the harvester.

Next and most terrible, sometimes from accident, sometimes from
design, comes the fire. In the slash and wreckage left by wood-cutters

Still Hand-dipping Rosin from Vat into Barrels. Ocilla, Ga.

182

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

it rages as in a Chicago or a San Francisco ; and in its seething caldron
disappears not only the last vestige of wood but the very soil itself.

Last of all follows the rain. This, falling upon denuded slopes, is
transformed from a blessing into a curse; for whatever movable tiring
remains is swept by it clown the mountainsides to glut the streams
and harbors and insure the overflows which convert the streams of the
south into so many Hoang-hos or " rivers of sorrow."

In the face of this process almost every legitimate interest of the
south is menaced. Natural beauty disappears like the splendor of the
butterfly clutched by the schoolboy. Agriculture, manufacturing,
transportation and the industries tangent thereto are doomed to pro-

Dinkby Engine and Geared Locomotive, Douglas Spruce District. Operations
of Simpson Logging Co., Mason Co., Wash.

digious losses and, in cases, to extinction. The whole region involved
is threatened.

And the remedy? President Roosevelt, quoting and endorsing
Secretary Wilson, has put it tersely : " The preservation of the forests,
of the streams, and of the agricutural interests here described can be
successfully accomplished only by the purchase and creation of a
na'ional forest reserve." A cluster of thinkers, writers and publicists
have borne similar testimony.

And why should a national forest reserve prove a remedy ?

For this reason. There are in operation in our industrial life
to-day two principles. The one is that of private initiative, individual
profit and laissez fairc; the other is that of public ownership, and

OUR FOREST "IV E ALT II

183

administration for the public good. That the first has achieved vic-
tories, belted continents, surmounted Alps, tunneled mountains and
worked miracles let us concede. Nevertheless, it has its limitations.
That this is true, experience, with its insurance investigations, rate
bills, meat inspection, pure-food legislation and the like, is daily
making clear. In the field of forest administration and exploitation —
notably when the forests in question control important river sources —
the limits of laissez faire were long since, and after fearful public loss,
recognized in Europe.

In such a case, the individual initiative principle works directly
counter to the public good. Private interest impels the doing of almost
all the mischievous things above enumerated : clearing slopes for farm-

The Ruins of a Brick House demolished ly ti:e Freshet of May 21, 1901.
Bakeksville, Mitchell Co., N. C.

ing, stripping trees for bark and leaving the trunks to rot, cutting
clean for pulp, and felling at once for lumber purposes trees which
should be left indefinitely on the ground. Abusing the exploiter is
gratuitous, vain, unjust. His " greed," so called, and his disregard
for public interests are no greater than those of other men. He is
simply following the principle whereby successes have been achieved
and fortunes won on every side; but, in so doing, he is, nevertheless,
mining and sapping at the very foundations of national well-being.
The second principle, on the other hand, impels the quest not for

1 84

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The sHArE of the Cloudland Mountain, between Green Cove and the Head

of Beak Creek, showing Land Slides in Pasture. These were made in

the storm of May 21, 1901, and covered from 100 to 500 square feet.

Mitchell Co., Cal.

private profit and individual fortunes, but for the general welfare.
It views a question from the standpoint not of the individual, but of the
community. It recognizes that the nation which would hold its place
in the world struggle and in universal history must husband its
natural resources and raise the general level of its average citizenship.
Viewing a forest-covered slope, the representative of the private in-
terest principle says : " Here a principality may be won. Come, see
and conquer ! '; But the exponent of the public-interest principle says :
"No; your present, petty gain can be reaped only by irremediable
public loss. The whole is greater than any of its parts. The public
safety is the supreme law. The government stands for all the people.
In their interest, therefore, we encircle this area with the ramparts of
public protection. To private initiative we say, ' Thus far shalt thou
come, but no farther.' For the nation's sake this territory shall be
conserved and forever publicly guarded and administered."

The present national forest area of the United States now exceeds
the combined areas of New England, New York, Pennsylvania, New
Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, the District of Columbia and
West Virginia— all west of the Mississippi. Already the policy is
amply justified by its fruits. Now let it be extended.

For the establishment of a national forest to protect the grand ok!

OUR FOREST WEALTH

185

white hills of Xew Hampshire and the great commercial and manu-
facturing interests dependent thereupon an argument may be made
almost or quite as strong as that for the protection of the Southern
Appalachian forests.

Xine years ago the struggle began for the establishment of national
forests first in the southern Appalachians, and then in the White Moun-
tains. In the fifty-ninth Congress this effort almost succeeded. The
bill was unanimously passed by the Senate and reported without dis-
sent for passage by the House Committee on Agriculture. The presi-
dent approved it in advance and strongly urged its passage. Through
the opposition, however, as is generally understood, of the speaker, this
bill could not be brought to a vote in the House. The fifty-ninth
Congress did, however, appropriate $25,000 for surveying the Appala-
chian-White Mountain area. In the summer following, the survey was
made and the report was made at the first session of the sixtieth
Congress. Appalachian bills were promptly introduced into both
Houses. The House bills went to the Committee on Agriculture.
Here, on January 30, a hearing was had. It lasted an entire day and
was of a character apparently to convince all who were open to con-
viction. Later, however, the constitutional question was raised and the
bill was sent to the House Committee on Judiciary. A hearing was had
before this committee on February 27, the arguments for and against

A Serious Fire was stopped at this Lane. It is 60 feet wide, and was hastily

cut through a Dense Sapling Stand. Litter scraped up on the right.

Beede, Adirondack Mountains, N. Y.

i86

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Likvillb River and Falls, showing Steep Rocky Gorge, whose Walls
500 to nearly 2,000 feet high. Byunis Bluff, Mitchell Co.. N. C.

are from

OUR FOREST HEALTH 187

the constitutionality of the measure being presented. Then came the
familiar delay. Meanwhile boards of trade, chambers of commerce,
women's clubs, civic and patriotic organizations and individuals with-
out number representing every section of the country, every political
creed and practically every social class and interest, poured in letters,
telegrams, petitions and resolutions, as one congressman declared, " by
the millions." The Senate passed the bill.

The House Committee on Judiciary, by unanimous vote, on April
22, decided as follows :

Resolved, that the Committee is of opinion that the federal government
has no power to acquire lands within a state, solely for forest reserves; but
under its constitutional power over navigation, the federal government may
appropriate for the purchase of lands and forest reserves in a state, provided
it is made clearly to appear that such lands and forest reserves have a direct
and substantial connection with the conservation and improvement of the
navigability of a river, actually navigable in whole or in part; and any appro-
priation made therefor is limited to that purpose.

Resolved, that the bills referred to in the resolutions of the House, H. E.
10,456 and H. R. 10,457, are not confined to such last mentioned purpose, and
are therefore unconstitutional.

This decision, apparently adverse, was really favorable. The bills
were at once modified to meet the requirements of the Judiciary Com-
mittee and reintroduced. The Agricultural Committee of the House,
however, reported a new bill, providing only for a Congressional investi-
gation or " junket " during the recess. This passed the House, but
went no farther.

Effort should now be concentrated on the House, to secure the
passage, by that body, of the excellent Senate bill. Already the tide
of public opinion has risen high in favor of this legislation. It is
still rising. An earnest, united, systematized effort, by all concerned,
should bring success at the next session of Congress.

i88

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

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THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

189

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

DARTMOUTH COLLEGE AND THE
SUMMER MEETING OF THE

AMERICAN ASSOCIATION FOR

THE ADVANCEMENT OF

SCIENCE

The American Association for the
Advancement of Science in planning
a special summer meeting had in view
a visit to an educational institution
of interest in a region attractive in
the summer time, rather than a con-
venient place for the presentation of
scientific papers. The meeting was j
entirely successful from the point of
view of place and environment, and
the fact that the scientific programs
were not extensive was scarcely a
drawback. Nor did the small attend-
ance interfere seriously with the pleas-
ure of those present, though it seems
a pity that only two of the eleven
sections of the association organized
and that but few of those interested
in sciences other than physics and
geology made the meeting an occasion
to visit Dartmouth College and meet
their friends.

It is perhaps true that the holidays
are not the best time to visit a col-
lege, which should be regarded as its
men and their work rather than as its
buildings and equipment. But in any
case it is not possible for a visitor to
do more in a couple of days than ob-
tain a general impression. Dartmouth
is one of the oldest of our colleges
and one of those which have grown
most rapidly in recent years. It is in
many ways a typical New England
college, though its school of medicine
and its graduate schools of engineer-
ing and affairs give it better warrant
to bear the name of university than
many institutions which assume this
dignity.

Dartmouth College traces its origin
to a school for the christian education
of young Indians, opened in 1754; it
received a charter with its present
name in 17G9. In 1819 a lawsuit be-
tween the trustees and the state of
New Hampshire was decided which
made the college independent of the
state. Otherwise it might have been
the University of Xew Hampshire, and
this it may yet become. The reaction
against state control which separated
most of the eastern institutions from
the state is not apparent west of the
Atlantic seaboard, and it is by no
means unlikely that through their col-
leges of agriculture and the mechanic
arts or by adoption of one of the pri-
vately controlled institutions there
may yet Le state universities in each
of the eastern states.

The Dartmouth Medical School began
with the appointment of a professor of
medicine in 1798. The Thayer School
of Engineering was established in 1867
and the Amos Tuck School of Admin-
istration and Finance in 1900. These
two schools are based on the college
course, or rather, following the
" Columoia plan," on the first three
years, the last year of college and the
first year of the professional school
being identical. The college predom-
inates, having 1,102 of the 1,219 stu-
dents in the institution. In it the
group system obtains and the possi-
bility of completing the course in three
years. Latin is required for the bach-
elor of arts degree, but not Greek.
The students in the course leading to
the bachelor of science degree, for
which neither Latin nor science is re-
quired, are about half as many.

The catalogue says that tne under-
graduate life develops independence,

190

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Dartmouth Hall. Used for the opening exercises and public lectures

College Hall. Headquarters of the association

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

191

originality, adaptability and broadness
of mind, and probably uses with dis-
cretion " life " rather than " curric-
ulum." The general spirit in the col-
lege is said to be excellent, and credit
is given for this, as well as for the
remarkable growth of the institution,
to President Tucker.

As shown by the accompanying illus-
trations, the situation of Dartmouth
among the New Hampshire hills is
beautiful, and the campus and build-
ings make a pleasing impression. The
original Dartmouth Hall, destroyed by
fire, has been rebuilt effectively in
brick. College Hall, a club house
and commons, made excellent head-
quarters for the association. The sci-
entific departments are well housed in
the Butterfield Museum for the nat-
ural sciences, the Wilder Laboratory
for physics, Culver Hall containing
the chemical department and the Shat-
tuck Observatory.

INTERNA TIONAL CONGRESSES
AND PERMANENT INTERNA-
TIONAL BUREAUS
Science and commerce are breaking
down the barriers between the nations.
Commerce is at present competitive,
having tariffs, navies and the rest as
its adjuncts, but it will gradually be-
come denationalized. Science is by its
very nature cooperative, and interna-
tional congresses advance in equal
measure science and good will. Of
somewhat unusual interest are the two
international congresses which meet in
Washington next month, one concerned
with fisheries and one with tubercu-
losis. The fisheries are to a consider-
able extent subject to international
control, and tuberculosis is the disease
most likely to be mitigated by com-
bined action against it.

The fisheries congress, which is the
fourth to be held, opens on September
22, and after the sessions in Washing-
ton, special meetings will be held in
New York, Boston, Gloucester and pos-
sibly in other places in New England.

Other places which may be visited
are Baltimore, the center 01 the oyster
industry of Chesapeake Bay, and Chi-
cago and other lake ports, where the
fishery trade and methods of the great
lakes, the most valuable fresh-water
fisheries in the world, may be studied.
, Twelve governments have already ac-
cepted the invitation of the United
States to be officially represented, and
delegates have been appointed by the
governors of many of the states. In
view of the large number of persons
who will attend as individuals or as
representatives of important fishery
societies, the congress promises to be
important in its representative char-
acter, size and the value of its pro-
ceedings. The subjects included in the
program are: Commercial fisheries;
Matters affecting the fishermen and
the fishing population; Legislation and
regulation ; International matters af-
fecting the fisheries; Aquiculture;
Acclimatization ; Fishways ; Biological
investigation of the waters and their
inhabitants; Diseases and parasites of
fishes; Crustaceans, mollusks and
other water animals; Angling and
sport fishing.

The International Congress on Tu-
berculosis will meet on September 28,
in the new building of the United
States National Museum, where an ex-
tensive exhibit will be arranged. Six
or seven hundred delegates from all
nations of the world will be present,
and the pathologists, physicians and
students of social conditions will prob-
ably be numbered by the thousands.
The members will include the most
eminent students of the disease, and
their discussions will lead to the dif-
fusion of knowledge concerning causes
and remedies and to renewed efforts to
increase knowledge. The congress will
also perform an important service by
awakening "popular interest and con-
cern. More than 6,000,000 of those
now living in the United States will
die of tuberculosis, yet it is essentially
a preventable disease. Both of the

192

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

political parties have pledged them-
selves to increase the national agen-
cies for suppressing disease and pro-
moting the public health, and public
sentiment will doubtless be further
awakened by this congress.

International scientific congresses
are leading to permanent international
bureaus. Thus an International Asso-
ciation for Cancer Research has been
founded at Berlin, to promote the in-
vestigation of cancer and the care of
cancer patients, the collection and pub-
lishing of international cancer statis-
tics, and the establishment of an inter-
national center of information on all
matters concerning cancer research.
Other objects of the association are the
publication of an international tech-
nical organ and the organization of
international cancer conferences. So
far, thirteen states, including all the
great powers except Great Britain,
have joined the association, the seat
of which will be at Berlin.

The International Institute of Agri-
culture was formally opened on May
23 by the king of Italy, who has given
it a building and an endowment yield-
ing $60,000 a year. The new building
in the gardens of the Villa Borghese
in Rome is said to be admirably suited
to the purposes of such an institution.
All civilized nations have joined in
this movement, inaugurated three
years ago, and it promises much for
the promotion of agriculture through-
out the world.

Permanent international bureaus
must have a local home, and in addi-
tion to the two new institutions noted
here there are others in London, Paris
and Berlin. There are none in this
country, and it is but proper that we
do our share. The fisheries and re-
search in tuberculosis and propaganda
for its suppression would be proper
objects for our government to promote,
and it may be hoped that the approach-

ing congresses will lead to the estab-
lishment of international bureaus at
Washington for one or both of these
objects.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS

We regret to record the deaths of
Mr. Henry Lomb, one of the founders
of the Bausch and Lomb Optical
Company; of Dr. Chamberland, sub-
director of the Pasteur Institute ; of
Dr. Ostwald Seeliger, professor of zool-
ogy at Rostock, and of Dr. Rudolf
Credner, professor of geography at
Greifswald.

The Albert medal of the Royal So-
ciety of Arts has been awarded to Sir
James Dewar. — Sir William Ramsay
succeeds Lord Kelvin as a member of
the Dutch Academy at Amsterdam. —
Colonel W. C. Gorgas, eminent for his
work on yellow fever, chief sanitary
officer of the Isthmian Canal Zone, has
been elected president of the American
Medical Association.

Mr. Henry Phipps, of Pittsburg
and New York, has made a large gift
to the Johns Hopkins University for
the founding of a Psychiatric Clinic.
It provides for the construction of a
hospital building, together with appa-
ratus, and laboratories for the scien-
tific investigation of mental abnormali-
ties by pathological, chemical and psy-
chological methods. Mr. Phipps will
provide for the maintenance of a med-
ical and nursing staff, including sal-
aries for a professor of psychiatry and
assistants and other expenses for a
period of ten years. The total amount
of the gift is withheld in accordance
with the wishes of Mr. Phipps, but it
is understood that it will considerably
exceed half a million dollars. Dr.
Adolf Meyer, director ot the Patholog-
ical Institute of the New York State
Hospitals, has accepted the professor-
ship of psychiatry and the directorship
of the hospital and clinic.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

SEPTEMBER, 1908

THE BOTANICAL GAEDENS OF CEYLON

By Peofessor FRANCIS RAMALEY

UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO

fcfc A X English glass house glorified" is the description which a
-£j- British friend of the writer gave to the garden at Peradeniya,
Ceylon. And such it truly is. The brilliant foliage, the strange
orchids and pitcher plants, the luxuriant ferns, the uncanny screw-
pines, are just what one might see in a gentleman's conservatory — only
more wonderful and luxuriant, grown taller and more fair. As a
" show place " these gardens are not equaled anywhere in the world
and as a place of scientific interest to botanists there are few rivals.
Haeckel, the German zoologist and philosopher, said of his visit to
Peradeniya that in the four days which he spent there he learned more
botany than he could have learned at home in as many months of hard
study.1

Ceylon has been described as a " dew-drop on the brow of India "
and so far as position is concerned it is certainly very closely related
to the Indian peninsula. In climate, too, and in the flora and fauna,
the northern part of the island is strikingly Indian; the same may be
said of the inhabitants. On the other hand, southern and central
Ceylon has a climate of its own and the people as well as the plants
and animals are quite different.

Peradeniya is situated in the center of Ceylon about seventy miles
Try rail from Colombo, the capital of the island. There is no town
here, but only a post-office and a few scattered huts. The city of
Kandy, however, is only three miles distant by rail or wagon road.

In going from Colombo to Peradeniya the trains are slow, but the
traveler does not complain. Indeed, he would wish his journey length-
ened, for the trip affords a four-hour introduction to tropical scenery
which is nowhere surpassed. Any one can enjoy the journey whether

1 Haeckel, " India and Ceylon," Ch. VI.
vol. iiXxin. — 13.

i94

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

interested in the world of nature or in his fellow man. There are
broad lowlands with coeoanut trees and fields of rice, alternating with
patches of deep jungle in which the natives have cleared bits of ground
and built their huts. In the higher altitudes tea fields and chocolate
plantations are the rule. But here also are stretches of uncleared
forest with trees of all heights and sizes, frequently some with hand-

Fig. 1. View in the Pandanus Quarter of the Peradeniya Gardens, Ceylon*
Note the curious prop roots of these trees. From a photograph by the author.

some red or violet colored flowers standing out boldly amid a mass of
dark green.

The garden at Peracleniya is only one of a number on the island.
It is, however, the largest and most important. Here are the offices
of the director of the gardens, whose duties correspond to those of a
government secretary of agriculture. Other gardens and experiment

THE BOTANICAL GARDENS OF CEYLON 195

stations, five in number, are established in parts of the island where
differences in climate furnish altered conditions for plant life.

The Peradeniya garden is in the wet zone, or area of natural rain
forest, at an altitude of 1,600 feet above the sea. With an annual
precipitation of about 90 inches and a mean temperature of 75°
Fahrenheit there are furnished the necessary conditions for luxuriant
plant growth. A " dry season," extending through February, March
and April, limits the growth of air plants hanging from trees, so that
in this respect Peradeniya is not so interesting as Buitenzorg, in Java.
The " dry season " is, however, not long enough to interfere with the
growth of most plants and nearly all of the trees retain their leaves
through this period. It is quite otherwise in the arid districts of
northern Ceylon, where a monsoon forest with a considerable number
of deciduous trees is the natural plant formation. Peradeniya, though
rather too cool for cocoanuts or Para rubber, has a climate well suited
to Castilloa rubber and to tea and chocolate, while palms of nearly all
kinds thrive to perfection.

The garden was not originally laid out according to any system of
plant classification, but was rather a beautiful park in which trees were
planted for landscape effect. Now, however, the director,2 is develop-
ing the garden according to systematic plans and making definite
groups of plant families. Thus there are at present well-arranged
plots devoted to palms, others to screw pines, others to cycads. It will
necessarily be many years before the new plan can be fully carried out,
for most of the plants in a tropical garden are trees. Indeed, the
herbaceous garden forms but a small part of the whole.

Here, as in any first-class garden of the tropics, much is very new
and strange to the botanist from temperate climes. Palms, screw-
pines, giant bamboos, orchids and tree ferns, which he has known
hitherto only from books or from the puny specimens of the plant
house, become the commonplaces of every-day life. The sight of trees
of the Composite family, Verbena family and many other groups repre-
sented at home only by herbs opens the eyes to some of the real wonders
of tropical plant life. An interesting example is that of the " potato
tree " belonging to the nightshade family. It does not produce
potatoes, but its flower resembles that of a potato very much enlarged.
At home we think of the nightshade family including only herbs and
vines, but in the tropics it includes trees as large as our ordinary
shade trees, such as elm and maple.

Nearly every kind of plant will grow at Peradeniya ; tropical and
sub-tropical plants very well indeed; temperate plants for the most
part indifferently well. The latter are, however, taken care of at the
mountain garden at Hakgala where the higher altitude (5,500 feet)

2 John C. Willis, M.A. (Camb.), FL.S.

196

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

gives them a climate resembling that of western Washington and
Oregon. The comparative coolness of tropical highlands is well illus-
trated by Nuwara Elliya, a resort near Hakgala, where in the hotels a
grate fire is lighted nearly every evening throughout the year.

Jaff.

MAP

of the

SLAND of CEYLON

Show mq

RAINFALL REGIONS

COLOMBO

Scale of Miles.

Pig. 2. Map of Ceylon. Peradeniya, not shown on the map, is about three miles
east of Kandy in the central part of the island. The figures indicate annual rainfall as
follows : 1, Under 50 in. ; 2, 50 to 75 in. ; 3, 75 to 100 in. ; 4, 100 to 150 in. ; 5, 150 to
200 in. ; 6, 200 in. or more.

While an attempt is made to grow in the gardens all of the
plants which are native to Ceylon, a great many plants from other
parts of the world are also to be seen there. Indeed, the wealth of

THE BOTANICAL GARDENS OF CEYLON 197

tropical beauty is here assembled. The flame tree of Madagascar,
named from the brilliant color of the flowers, is a wondrous sight in
March and April, the whole tree being a mass of red which hides the
dark-green foliage. From India there is a tree, Saraca indica, with a
profusion of brilliant orange-yellow flowers ; and from tropical America
various trees of the genus Brownea, especially interesting because of
the graceful clusters of pendant young leaves. The leaves droop when
young and tender, thus presenting very little surface for injury by
the overhead sun. As they grow older a horizontal position is assumed
and the red color is lost. It is supposed that the red coloring matter
acts as a screen which protects the living substance of the young leaves
just as the red glass in a photographer's dark-room window protects
the sensitive plates from injury by light.

Among the most interesting plants are the bamboos, of which many
different kinds are cultivated, some native, others imported from penin-
sular India or from other parts of Asia. Some interesting studies
have been made at the gardens on the rate of growth of bamboo stems.
These spring up almost as if by magic. To measure the growth from
day to day no expensive auxanometer is needed, but only a tape measure
and a coolie to climb an adjacent tree with the end of the tape. A
day's growth is measured not in millimeters but in feet or inches.
Bamboo stems are hollow, as are most grasses — for bamboos are but
grasses — and are wonderfully strong considering the weight and the
amount of material in them. Indeed, the principle of the hollow
cylinder so well known to engineers was long understood by the
Asiatics, who use bamboos for building purposes.

Of economic plants in the garden there seems almost no end. The
balmy breezes of Ceylon may v/ell be spice-laden. Ceylon cinnamon
is known the world over. The various peppers, as black pepper, long
pepper, betel pepper, are woody climbers. A handsome grove of nut-
meg trees is planted near the entrance — the trees about seventy years
old. On the ground under the trees may be found the seeds, i. e., the
nutmegs, and around them a covering, the aril of the botanist, which
forms the spice known as mace. Clove trees may be seen also; it is
the young flower buds of the tree which are dried to make the cloves
of commerce. In the garden one may see the plants which furnish
vanilla, citronella oil, tea, indigo, pineapple, ramie, sisal hemp and
sago. Almost countless trees there are of economic importance. A few
may be named, as those which furnish coffee, chocolate, cola, cocoanut,
Brazil nut, camphor, rubber, gamboge and other tropical products.

In speaking of economic plants mention must be made of the
experiment station which is really a part of the garden, although
situated across the river. As a matter of fact nearly all the world
lies across the river from the Peradeniya gardens, as these are situated
in a bend of the stream which flows first north, then west, then south

iq8

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

around the gardens. The experiment station was formerly a private
estate bought by the gardens at a low price because it had been allowed
to run down and the chocolate trees nearly all become diseased. Sci-
entific methods of tending and care have been introduced and a model
plantation developed. Here experiments are made with new agricul-
tural crops and with new methods of treatment. The different species
of trees furnishing rubber are being tried as well as improved varieties

Fig. 3. Bamboos along the River in the Perademya Gardens. In the clearing
across the stream is a small rice field. From a photograph by the author.

of chocolate, cardomoms and other crops. Throughout Ceylon there
is much general interest in scientific agriculture and the controller of
the experiment station has the encouragement and moral support of
the thinking population, both European and native. The daily news-
papers at Colombo also give much attention to such matters and assume
a sympathetic attitude toward government scientific work, in refresh-
ing contrast to many of the newspapers in this country.

THE BOTANICAL GARDENS OF CEYLON 199

An attractive plot at Peradeniya is the Kitchen Garden, in which
are assembled such " vegetables " as will grow in that hot, moist
climate. Many of our common vegetables do well and can be had at
all seasons, for example, beans, beets, peas, celery, lettuce and cress.
Potatoes are generally small and poor. Sweet corn will grow in
Ceylon, but has not thus far come into use. Of tropical vegetables
various " yams " are much used, particularly by the natives. The word
" yam " is applied to tubers and thickened roots of many different
species of plants. Eggplants, different from ours in the temperate
zone, are cultivated, also certain plants used, for " greens." Bread-
fruit trees produce the large heavy fruits of that name, but these
would properly be classified among vegetables. Breadfruit is not
much used by the British in Ceylon, who, in fact, eat chiefly the same
things that they are accustomed to eat at home on their own tight
little island.

Thus far we have been considering the attractions of the Peradeniya
gardens to the casual visitor. To the botanist they are even more
interesting. Every facility is offered by the director of the gardens for
investigation by visiting men of science. There is a good herbarium
in charge of competent curators and a working library of botanical
books and periodicals. Good laboratory facilities are also offered.
Although the laboratory for visitors is not fully equipped with phys-
iological apparatus, there are the usual necessaries and it is easy to
obtain all ordinary supplies at Kandy or Colombo. Native joiners,
tinsmiths and metal-workers can be secured at very low rates to make
articles needed. Photographic materials may be obtained at Kandy,
only three miles away, and skilled photographers may be engaged to
develop negatives or do other photographic work such as making lantern
slides.

Opportunities for securing museum material are excellent. Col-
lections of tropical woods properly named are prepared to order by
dealers in Kandy. Plant material may be collected from the garden
and preserved in formaldehyde or alcohol. Herbarium specimens from
the garden can be collected and dried, but the botanist will need to
remember that nothing short of the most thorough drying will suffice.
It will also be necessary to use a liberal amount of naphthalene scat-
tered through the dry specimens at all times. A native plant collector
is detailed by the director of the gardens to assist visiting botanists
in getting material from either the garden or the jungle. This man
is well acquainted with nearly all of the species in the garden or grow-
ing in the vicinity and can usually tell the scientific name offhand,
although sometimes he needs to refer to the herbarium. At the
laboratory native assistants are provided who clean up apparatus and
glassware and make themselves generally useful.

One of the most interesting things about Ceylon is the way in

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POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 4. Brownea, a Tree with Young Leaves hanging limp at the Ends op
the Branches. At the right a Talipot palm in blossom. From a photograph by
the author.

which the jungle comes to the very door of civilization. In our own
country we do not find " backwoods " close to cities and towns, but
must travel a long way from Boston or New York to find the
primeval forest. Ceylon, however, like other tropical countries, fur-
nishes examples of jungle in close proximity to the large towns. In-
deed, everywhere throughout the island the forest is easily reached.
There is no half-way land in Ceylon. That which is needed for roads,
gardens or fields is well cared for; other land grows up quickly to
jungle. Old fields, abandoned a few years, soon become a dense thicket
and later a forest. This is well seen at Anuradhapura, one of the
ruined cities in the north central part of the island. Here, the govern-
ment archeologists, as they find various parts of buildings such as
columns and arches, set them up in place ; but sometimes they neglect to

THE BOTANICAL GARDENS OF CEYLON

20I

clear out the trees for a sufficient distance and their " finds " once more
become overturned by growing roots or the stems of gigantic climbers.

So, where jungle is the rule, and clearings have to be protected,
it is natural that the botanical gardens should have a patch of jungle.
This is situated in the experiment station grounds, but easily reached
by the visitor. Here may be seen the native trees of the region in
their natural condition and the visitor may get some idea of tropical
luxuriance in the large number of species present on even a small tract
of ground. It must be said, however, that a visit to this bit of jungle
would be, to many visitors, a disappointment, for it is not filled with
air plants hanging from the trees nor rendered impenetrable by inter-
lacing stems of climbing plants. It is, however, much easier to travel
through than the jungles at sea level in districts of great heat aiid
humidity.

The botanist who is interested in ecology — the relation of the plant
to its environment — is often on the lookout for field and roadside
weeds. In temperate regions, particularly in the western United States,
roadside weeds make a constant and striking feature of the landscape.
This is not the case, as a rule, in the tropics. Indeed, there are not
only rather few weeds, but few flowering herbs of any kind. The

Fig. 5. A " Screw Pine " ; not a pine at all, but a monocotyledon of the genus Pan-
danus. From a photograph by the author.

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POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tropics are a region of big things and the herbaceous plants make little
impression on the visitor. At the Peradeniya garden, the writer noted
a small area of perhaps half an acre that had been neglected for a
time. Here, although there were many tree seedlings started, there
was a fairly good patch of weeds — enough to make a lonely American
feel quite at home. These weeds were chiefly Lantanas and some of
our American composites, particularly the fleabane Erigeron and also
Conyza,

It would be difficult to find elsewhere in the world an area the
size of Ceylon, or even much larger, with so many different vegetation
regions. The differences in these regions are brought about largely by

Pig. 6. Laboratory and Herbarium. At the far right is the office of the director.

From a photograph by the author.

the winds which determine the distribution of rainfall and by altitude
with consequent temperature changes. The wet weather comes with
the rains from two different directions. The northeast monsoon com-
mences in October and brings heavy rains throughout the higher parts
of the island and in the lowland country of the northeast. A series of
rains continues through November and December, with a rather light
rainfall during January, February and March. In April the wind
changes to southwest and there is more rain, with June especially wet.
From then until October the rainfall is again lighter. It will be seen
then, that in the highlands it is always moist, but that there are certain
districts which have a rather pronounced dry season. The driest parts
of the island are in the north and the south or northwest and south-

THE BOTANICAL GARDENS OF CEYLON

203

east, in other words, in those parts placed as outlying districts at right
angles to the directions of both monsoons.

The climate at Peradeniya is such that the botanist can live there
in comfort and work regularly. It is a good place to begin the study
of tropical plant life, as it is not extreme in either rainfall or tempera-
ture. From Peradeniya it is easy to reach the various parts of the
island with their remarkably different floras. Traveling is not ex-
pensive and as English is the regular commercial language it is easy
to get around.

Although the different plant formations of Ceylon are almost with-
out number, yet a rough classification may be made as follows: (1)
lowland evergreen rain forest; (2) upland evergreen rain forest; (3)

Fig. 7. Government Rest House near the Entrance to the Garden.

photograph by the author.

From a

mountain evergreen rain forest; (4) monsoon forest (half deciduous).
There is no plain or prairie of any extent. Our first named formation
is in the southwestern part of the island extending from Galle to
Colombo and inland for twenty to fifty miles. Peradeniya is situated
in the upland evergreen rain forest. Xuwara Elliya and Hakgala
(about 6,000 feet altitude) may be taken as examples of our third
region. These points are easily reached from Peradeniya by rail, the
trip taking about half a day. Above these points the mountains rise
2,000 or 3,000 feet higher, but there is no true alpine vegetation any-
where in Ceylon. At Nuwara Elliya the general aspect of vegetation is
much like that of temperate America or Europe. The trees are much

204

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

■&■$'&*

Fig. 8. A portion of the Garden, with formal beds and wide expanse of
lawn arranged to please European tourists. From a photograph by Macmillan kindly
furnished by the director.

stouter than those of lower altitudes and not so tall. In these moun-
tain highlands in addition to forest there is a certain amount of " open
country," the patanas. These are expanses of grassland on hillsides
and rolling ground. The monsoon forest occurs in the drier regions
of the island in the northwest and southeast. Here there are no very
tall trees as compared with those of the rain forest and many of them
are short and scrubby — very much branched after the manner of dry-
country plants the world over. A considerable number are deciduous,
losing their leaves in the hotter and drier months of spring to put them
on again in the period of the monsoon or rain-bearing winds.

In the hot, moist lowlands of the southwest part of the island a
typical strand flora may be seen. There are mangrove swamps and
thickets of Mpa palm. It is in such very hot districts that rubber is
grown and the cocoanut flourishes also. The drier regions have usually
what would be a fair allowance of rain if in the temperate zone, but
the tropical heat causes such rapid evaporation that the fifty inches of
annual rainfall at Anuradhapura is not sufficient to grow crops without
irrigation. Here then is a truly arid district. Farther north at Jaffna
it is still drier, so that almost desert conditions prevail at least for a part
of the year. As these dry regions can be visited easily at all times of
year they make a very attractive feature of the island from the stand-
point of the botanist. They are especially interesting to the American
student familiar with the arid conditions of the west. In America all

THE BOTANICAL GARDENS OF CEYLON

205

arid lands are practically treeless, but in Ceylon the forest is the natural
plant formation even in dry areas.

With all of the different floras to be seen in the various parts of
the island a botanist may get a good idea of the tropical world in a
short time and with slight expense. The director of the gardens and
his staff are anxious to have scientific visitors, not only botanists, but
zoologists and geologists as well. Two rooms at the government Eest
House (a kind of hotel) are reserved for scientific visitors and no charge
is made for lodging, although, of course, table board must be paid for.
The cost of living will be found to be not more than in other tropical
countries with fewer advantages for study.

Ceylon has never attracted a great number of students, but a con-
siderable amount of valuable work has been done there. Haeckel cer-
tainly obtained many of his philosophical ideas of the plant and animal
worlds during his visit to the island. Modern science and philosophy
owe much to the influence of Ceylon on his writings. But Haeckel's
zoological collections were also valuable, and the collections of others
at later times have added much to the world's store of knowledge in
regard to tropical life. On the side of botany probably the name which
is oftenest associated with Ceylon is that of the late H. Marshall Ward,
who as a young man spent two years on the island studying the coffee
disease. Although he worked out the etiology of the disease and the
life history of the parasite, he was unable to devise a method of pre-
vention. Henry Trimen, who was director of the gardens at Pera-
deniya for sixteen years, published the " Flora of Ceylon," which was
completed by Sir Joseph Hooker in 1900, after the death of Trimen.
It is interesting to note that Hooker had himself collected plants in
Ceylon fifty- three years before. Of recent publications the work of
Mr. Willis, the director, on a curious family of plants, the Podosto-

Fig. 9. Giant Bamboos. Photograph by Macinillan kindly furnished by the director.

2o6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

maceae, is especially noteworthy. An exhaustive study of the trees of
the ebony genus has been made by Mr. Herbert Wright. Mr. E. H.
Lock has also done some remarkably good work in plant-breeding ex-
periments which deserve special mention. Various students have
worked on minor problems, with results which have been published in
both European and American journals. In June, 1.901, there was
begun the publication of the Annals of the Royal Botanic Gardens,
Peradeniya.3 This publication is issued at irregular intervals at a
nominal price. It contains contributions from the director and other
members of the scientific staff of the gardens.

The West Indies and the Philippines will, no doubt, attract more
students of botany from America than will Ceylon, but in a few years
no one will claim to be a trained botanist unless he has had the ad-
vantages of study in some tropical laboratory. There is no tropical land
which offers better opportunity than Ceylon for botanical study. Nor
can one find any tropical country with a more intelligent and progress-
ive population, finer cities or more beautiful scenery.

One will naturally make comparisons between botanical opportunity
at Peradeniya and at Buitenzorg,4 in Java. It may be said that the
establishment at Buitenzorg is much older and better provided with
funds, but that Peradeniya is a more comfortable place to live, that
traveling is much less complicated and communication more easy be-
cause of the use of English by the natives. In Java one must learn
Malay in order to communicate with servants. On account of the very
moist climate, Buitenzorg presents a more luxuriant vegetation, but this
very great moisture makes work harder, and in the afternoons it is
practically impossible to do any kind of study in the garden on account
of rain. To many people the large number of visitors in the Buiten-
zorg gardens seems a detriment. The place is too much " civilized."
At Peradeniya, on the other hand, the number of casual visitors is
rather small, and they do not embarrass the student by their presence or
their questions. It will be seen that it is impossible to say which of
the two places will be better for the student. Something depends on
the kind of work he wishes to do and very much depends on his own
temperament. In fact, both gardens should be visited, and the length
of time spent in each be determined by conditions as they arise.

3 Students interested in knowing more concerning the opportunities for
research at Peradeniya should consult the first number of the Annals in which
these opportunities are fully set forth. An excellent account of the island of
Ceylon with a statement of its resources is given in the " World's Fair Hand-
book of Ceylon," prepared for the St. Louis Exposition.

4 See an article by the present writer in this magazine for November, 1905.

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 207

THE PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA AND

THEIR MIGRATIONS1

BY n. h. winchell

MINNEAPOLIS, MINN.

IT would have been considered an act of great temerity twenty-five or
thirty years ago to enter upon an investigation of the Indians of
Minnesota in prehistoric time. But, thanks to the rapid progress that
has been made in aboriginal research in North America, chiefly under
the guidance of the late J. W. Powell and his associates in the Bureau
of Ethnology at Washington, it is now necessary only to apply to
Minnesota some of the great truths that have been established as to the
Indians at large, and to designate under those principles what Indian
stocks and tribes have inhabited the state in some of the centuries that
preceded the advent of the whites.

In order to clear the field at the outset by the removal of any
obstacles that we may have inherited from earlier conceptions of the
aborigines, it will be well to repeat some of the important results that
have been reached within recent years, viz. :

1. The origin of the ancestors of the Indians was so remote that
nothing yet discovered indicates its date or the source from which they
came.

2. There are between fifty and sixty Indian stock languages, some
of which are as distantly related as the languages of the various Aryan
nations, but most of which are as distinct as the English from the
Semitic.

3. This shows that the aborigines, if they came at all to America,
must have come from a great many directions, or that their coming
was so remote that they must have developed these differences amongst
themselves by long periods of isolated residence in North America.

4. The Indian stock languages can not be connected, at least have
not been connected as yet, with any convincing bond of relationship,
with either European or Asiatic languages. The Eskimo are here not
included, as that stock ranges from Greenland through North America
into Siberia.

5. The aborigines, therefore, are indigenous to the soil of America
in the same sense that the Mongolian and Caucasian are indigenous
in the lands of the Eastern continent.

6. The " moundbuilders," that fabulous race of Squier and Davis,

1 An address before the Minnesota Historical Society, February 9, 1907.

208

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

were the ancestors of some of the Indian tribes of history. What those
tribes were is gradually being unraveled.

7. The greatest number of the aboriginal language stocks were
located along the Pacific coast, say in California, and along the Atlantic
and Gulf coasts in the southeast; the interior of the continent being
occupied thinly by only three or four stock tongues, these being
Athapascan, Shoshonean, Algonquian and Siouan. The Kiowa, who

Powell's Map

From the Seventh AmML Report

Bureau or Ethnology
1885-86

also were in this central area, are thought by some to be an independent
stock, but by others related to the Comanches, and hence may, for our
present purpose, be classed with the Comanches in the Shoshonean
family. The Pawnee, or Caddoan, family was feebly represented in
the interior of the continent aside from their main habitat at the gulf
coast and in Texas ; but the Iroquois shared with the other wide-spread
families in the possession of the interior. These, however, appear to
have linguistic alliances with the Cherokees and more distantly with the

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 209

Siouan stock. Hence again, for the purpose of the present discussion,
the Iroquois may be considered with the Siouan family.

Of these four great family stocks it will be the purpose of this
paper to deal mainly with the last two mentioned, i. e., the Algonquian
and the Siouan.

In the Algonquian family are embraced the following tribes, as
stated by J. W. Powell, as well as several other small tribes that domi-
nated the north Atlantic coast; the arrangement here is that of D. G.
Brinton in the previsional order of their linguistic affinities, the oldest
and perhaps the parent tongue, the Kilistino, heading the list :

Cree (Kilistino)
Old Algonkin
Montagnais

Ojibwa

Ottawa

Pottawotomi

Miami

Illinois

Pea

Piankishaw

Kaskaskia

Menominee

Sac

Fox

Kikapoo

Micmac

Etchemin

Abnaki

Delaware
Shawnee
Mohecan
Nanticoke

Gros Ventres (of the Plains)*
Sheyenne

To these may be added the Arapahoe, associates of the Sheyenne in
Wyoming, not mentioned by Brinton. These show, according to
Krceber, certain characteristics that mark them as differing from the
other Algonquians, both in speech and in tribal organization. There
is no history or tradition of their origin. They have no clans nor
totemic divisions, whereas these are marked features of the most of the
Algonquian stock. Certain more elemental characteristics of their
dialect, and the certainty of their having long preceded the Sheyenne in
their present habitats, seem to warrant the assumption that they are
more primitive than even the Kilistino.

The area formerly occupied by the Algonquian family was more extensive
than that of any other linguistic stock of North America, their territory reach-
ing from Labrador to the Rocky Mountains, and from Churchill River of Hudson
Bay as far south at least as Pamlico Sound of North Carolina. (Powell.)

2 There were two tribes of Gros Ventres, so named by the French, distin-
guished as Gros Ventres of the Missouri, a tribe of the Siouan tongue, and
Gros Ventres of the Plains, who were Algonquian.

vol. lxxiii. — 14.

2io POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The Dakotan, or Siouan, family comprised the following Indian
nations, arranged approximately in order of apparent derivation:

Biloxi
Tutelo
Waccon
Catawba

Huron Iroquois?
Cherokee ?

Winnebago

Omaha

Osage

Issati

Mandan

Missouri

Dakota

Iowa

Ottoe

Hidatsa (and Crows)

having numerous subtribes, viz., Santee, Sisseton, Wahpeton, Yankton,
Yanktonai, Teton, Blackfeet, Minneconjou, Ogalala, Ponka, Assini-
boin, Akansea, Kansa and others.

The position above assigned to the Cherokee and Iroquois is con-
jectural, but is based on the statements of some authorities. Mr.
Horatio Hale has sufficiently established the connection between the
tongues of the Cherokee and the Iroquois, and Mr. Mooney has shown
the relation between the Cherokee and the primitive tribes of the tongue
in South Carolina. It may be that the alliance of the Iroquois with
the Dakotan stock is so feeble that the two should be considered as sepa-
rate stocks. But, for reasons that will appear, the Cherokee (Tselaki),
the ancient Alligewi, seem to have had an ancestry which was cognate
with that of the Dakota. It will be shown that they both moved from
their pristine seat on the Atlantic coast in the Carolinas, where some
archaic remnants of both tongues still continued in early American
history.

The country occupied by the great Dakota stock, aside from the
small tribes that remained near the Atlantic, was, in general, the " in-
terior continental basin " so far as it lay west of the Mississippi River
and east of the Rocky Mountains, with a broad tongue that extended
into Canada so as to take in some of the waters that reach Hudson Bay,
west of Lake Winnipeg. It covered the Missouri Valley except in its
utmost upper reaches in the region of the Yellowstone Park, which be-
longed to the Shoshonean stock, and excepting also the valley of the
Platte. It extended eastward in a narrow tongue, across the
Mississippi, through southern Wisconsin to Lake Michigan, an anom-
alous geographic exception, the important significance of which will
be referred to later. As to Minnesota, it was divided between the
Algonquian and the Dakota stocks, the larger part being in possession of
the Dakota. The Kilistino, an Algonquian tribe, were in the north and
northeast, in the wooded region north of Lake Superior. Their

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 211

dominion included the boundary waters not farther west than Kainy
Lake, but continued unbroken to Hudson Bay.3

A few other general considerations ought to be stated at this point
in order to prepare for the discussion of the topic in hand. These
are:

1. During the prevalence of the last ice-epoch the state of Min-
nesota was covered with ice, and all previous inhabitants, whether fauna
or flora, were driven southward to more congenial climes.

2. This condition ended between seven and eight thousand years
ago. It is not necessary here to rehearse the investigations on which
that result is based.

3. Between the ice-fields and the habitable portions of the continent
lying to the south was a belt of country, the width of which varied
according to the longitude and according to the topography, which was
uninhabitable by reason of the severity of the climate. This unin-
habitable belt may be compared to a belt in northeastern and northern
Canada at the present time which is uninhabitable for the same reason.
It was wider, however, than the northern Canadian belt, and less
ameliorated along the banks of the rivers. Their waters drained from
the northern ice fields, whereas the Canadian rivers carry waters from
southern and more temperate latitudes. But like the Canadian belt it
was wider toward the west. The ice-margin and the accompanying
severity of climate crossed the country from southeast to northwest.
The prehistoric isothermals, same as the present, passed northwest-
wardly.

4. Hence the habitable portions of the United States, until seven or
eight thousand years ago when the ice began its retreat, were along the
Atlantic seaboard south of New Jersey, a belt along the coast of the
Gulf of Mexico, a large interior area without ascertainable limits, and
the Pacific coast west of the Sierra Nevada.

5. So far as Minnesota is concerned, and the same is true of much
of the northern United States, it seems to be necessary, therefore, to
confine all investigation of aboriginal migration to an antiquity not
greater than seven or eight thousand years.

6. For Minnesota it is necessary to make a still further restriction,
for it was the ice-margin itself that retired seven or eight thousand

3 Powell's map of linguistic stocks accompanying the seventh annual report
of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1885-6, is quite incorrect for Minnesota. It gives
by far too much area to the Algonquian. The boundary as shown by his map
would be more applicable in the eighteenth century, after the inroads of the
Ojibwa upon the Dakota had won a large part of the state. As it should be
drawn from the earliest known habitats of the aborigines, it should start from
the St. Croix River not far from the eastern side of Pine County, run thence
northwardly to near the east end of Rainy Lake, thence northward and north-
westward so as to leave Lake of the Woods to the Assiniboin, but to the south-
ward of Lake Winnipeg and thence northwestwardly indefinitely to the valley
of the Saskatchewan.

2i2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

years ago from the vicinity of the falls of St. Anthony. It required,
maybe, two thousand years more for the passage over the state of that
uninhabitable belt already mentioned.

7. The people along the gulf coast and on the ocean shores would
not have been quick to follow up the retiring cold of a glacial winter.
They would not readily leave the warm lowlands, where food was
abundant, to penetrate the wastes of a country that was still swept by
cold winds and whose wide-spreading waters were chilled by the dis-
solution of the northern ice.

8. The occurrence, however, of an opportunity for migration was
equivalent to the creation of an impulse, and after a time the southern
tribes moved into the regenerated new country.

It is the purpose of this paper to give a glimpse of some of the
movements of this migration, and to show how it affected Minnesota.
The time within which these migrations occurred, for reasons already
stated, can not therefore exceed five or six thousand years.

It will be reasonable to assume that wherever the chance for hopeful
migration first presented itself there the first movement took place.
Some weaker tribe was expelled by war, or, the people being crowded,
some tribe sought more room and better quarters to expand in. This
change must have begun in the southwest, perhaps no further south
than Utah or Colorado, or perhaps some tribe of Mexico began the great
migration. The same impulse toward northward migration was felt
all along the gulf coast and on the Atlantic seaboard. Sometimes
whole tribes abandoned their ancient seats and sometimes only a dis-
contented portion of a tribe parted from their kindred. There must
have been many conflicts and counter migrations and movements in all
directions; but those who started first probably continued to move in
the van as they were again pressed by those in the rear.

When there came finally a condition comparatively fixed, it must be
allowed that the tribes had settled where their environment was best
suited to their needs, subject, of course, to the dominance of more
powerful tribes. It may be reasonably accepted that on attaining a
condition of comparative quiet, the geographical situation of the
linguistic stocks was approximately as represented on the linguistic
map of Powell, barring, of course, such later changes of habitat as can
be shown to have taken place either within historic time or by con-
sistent application of tradition. A general sketch of the Powell
linguistic map has already been given.

It is now necessary to examine it a little more closely and to note
some of the more remarkable features. It is a most notable fact that
the southern parts of the United States are thickly dotted over with
small areas that denote the locations of numerous distinct aboriginal
stocks, while the broad interior is occupied by a few widely spread

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 213

stocks that were, as is known, thinly dispersed along the river courses
and ranged in pursuit of game or of their enemies occasionally over the
plains. The Athabascan stock, now occupying the interior of Alaska
and of northern Canada, may be presumed to have been the first, or
among the first, to leave their pristine seats. But they must have left
a considerable number of their friends at home, since they still subsist
in a large tract in eastern Arizona, western New Mexico and south-
western Texas, under the names of Apache and Navajo, with their
subdivisions. The Shoshonean family may not have moved far from
their pristine home, at least seem not to have entirely abandoned it,
since the Shoshonean area still lies contiguous to the Pacific coast in
southern California. They apparently simply improved the opportunity
of expansion, and latterly perhaps dispossessed some weaker tribes.
Still, it is quite possible that the Shoshonean people were powerful and
spread over a wide interior area from which they have never departed
even during the prevalence of the glacial climates of the north.

The two great Indian families, however, in which we are most in-
terested are the Algonquian and the Siouan. Let us notice the con-
trasts in their distribution. The Algonquian spreads over the north-
eastern part of the United States and Canada, with a small root linger-
ing adjoining the Shoshonean in Colorado, but has no representative on
the southeast Atlantic coast. It is true that according to the map the
Algonquian stock extends as far south on the Atlantic seaboard as North
Carolina, but this southward expansion there is of later date and
can be excluded from the discussion. Indeed, the whole Delaware
confederacy, covering the Algonquian areas in New Jersey, New York,
and some portions of New England as well as all of that in the stales
of Kentucky, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana and the most of Illinois,
can likewise be excluded, since, as will appear, their acquisition of those
areas is of comparatively recent date. It appears, therefore, if the
Algonquian stock was governed in post-glacial time by the forces which
have been mentioned, that that people started from the southwestern
country, spread over the interior plains, and preempted the timbered
regions of Canada and the northern United States. It hence follows
that the northern part of Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan, and the
most of New England were the first settled habitats, in the United
States, of the Algonquian people. Prior to the Dakotan incursion, the
Algonquian probably controlled areas farther south, especially in Min-
nesota, while the mainly uninhabited interior, i. e., the plains of the
Missouri and of the upper Mississippi, were the fields over which for
a long period of time all the surrounding nations sent war parties and
hunters, but did not venture to make permanent settlements.

Now compare with this the distribution of the Siouan stock. It has
two small areas on the Atlantic seaboard contiguous to similar areas

2i4 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of the Iroquois, but its main area is west of the Mississippi, embracing
the wide plains over which roamed the buffalo. These areas are
separated by the states of West Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana,
Illinois and Michigan, where now reside the Algonquian, or at least
where they were found by the Europeans when they made acquaintance
with the region. Guided by the same principles, we may infer reason-
ably that, on the amelioration of the glacial climate, the Siouan family,
residing wholly on the southeastern Atlantic seaboard, migrated toward
the north and west, crossing the mountains that bound them in, and
sought the plains on the west. With the vicissitudes of war and the
lapse of thousands of years, those who remained on the east side of the
Alleghany Mountains were permanently separated from those who mi-
grated, and the western tribes expanded rapidly over the western plains
of the Missouri, becoming powerful and a scourge to their neighbors,
" the Iroquois of the West," as they have been termed not inaptly.

We can infer, therefore, that these two stocks, the Algonquian and
the Siouan, moving, one from the southwest and the other from the
southeast toward the Mississippi Valley, early came into collision, and
that in the main the Mississippi River at first constituted the boundary
line separating their domains. This early hostility became a hereditary
war, and on the side of the Siouan stock the Iroquois also participated.
I do not know of any record, and of but one tradition, of war between
the Iroquois stock and the Siouan stock west of the Alleghanies, but
both these stocks maintained bitter and hereditary war against the
Algonquian. The prehistoric Siouan people were neighbors in the
Carolinas of the prehistoric Iroquois, and the two people more or less
allied in language and having similar customs and the same opportuni-
ties for northward migration probably moved about simultaneously,
both tribes crossing the mountains into the country where the waters
flowed in the western direction, the Iroquois to the north of the Sioux.

It is a remarkable fact that, with the exception of the earthworks
of the gulf coast, these two stocks are the only ones that have been
found to have had a general custom of constructing earth mounds
and embankments.4 These common resemblances, regardless of any

4 The mounds that are common in southern Michigan and along the Lake
Huron shore northward from Detroit, as well as those in northern Ohio and
western New York are attributable to the Iroquois or to some of their kindred
tribes, viz: the Hurons, Eries and Neutrals. The Iroquois dominion extended
to the north shore of lake Huron even in historic time. An old Dutch map of
1690 (?) published by Van der Aa has " Iroquoysen " in the northern part of
Wisconsin. Indeed there is good reason for believing that the Iroquoian and
Siouan stocks at this time possessed the whole country east of the Mississippi
River and south of the Great Lakes to northern Georgia, constituting together
the great Ohio dynasty of the mound-builders. The true earth mounds of
northern Wisconsin are probably later than this period. Mr. Geo. A. West says

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 215

linguistic affinity, are sufficient to point to an early common origin.
If the Algonquian stock in any of its tribes is found to have con-
structed mounds, such as those characteristic of the Ohio mound-build-
ers, it seems to have been only exceptional or sporadic, or may be
attributed to adoption from their neighbors belonging either to the
Iroquois or the Siouan stock. I know that Dr. Thomas has shown the
great probability that the Shawnees, an Algonquian tribe, were the
authors of certain mounds in western Tennessee and contiguous
territory farther southeast, and specially of those that cover the char-
acteristic stone-box graves. Admitting that, it is still true that the
Shawnees have not been shown to have been mound builders in a wide
sense, and that, carrying the habit of subsurface burial with them when
they left their kindred and migrated into southern Illinois and western
Tennessee, they might easily have adopted the custom of their mound-
building new neighbors and covered their box graves with earth mounds.
But, without admitting at present that the Shawnees constructed the
mounds that cover the stone-box graves, it seems to be reasonable to
refer those mounds to the predecessors of the Shawnees, viz. : the Osage
and perhaps the Omaha, who belong to the Dakotan stock, and who have
a tradition, which is confirmed by other traditions, that they once lived
east of the Mississippi in that very region. With this understanding,
it is, I repeat, a remarkable fact that, aside from the Muskogean earth-
works of the gulf coast, which have distinctive characters, only the
Dakotan and Iroquois stocks can be shown either by history or tradi-
tion to have been characteristic mound-builders.

It is due to the research of the late J. V. Brower that the Dakota
tribes of Minnesota have been proved to belong to the so-called mound-
builder dynasty. But the mound-builder domain was, par excellence,
in the Ohio Valley and southward into Kentucky, Tennessee and
northern Georgia and eastward into West Virginia. There is also a
remarkable series of effigy mounds in central and southern Wisconsin
which extended across the Mississippi into Minnesota and Iowa. With
slight exceptions the typical mound-builder area was occupied, as shown
by Powell's map, at the coming of the whites, by non-mound-building
people ; while the great body of the mound-builders, represented by the
Siouan stock, were on the west side of the Mississippi, in a region which
had been passed by, or ignored, by the early migrating stocks.

As between a prairie and a forested country it is plain that the
forested area would be chosen first by the aborigines. Aside from the

that the Sioux at different periods occupied the greater part of what is now
Wisconsin. Mounds have been described by John T. Short ( " North Americans
of Antiquity," p. 30) in the valley of the Columbia River, south from Olympia,
but these have since been ascribed to natural causes by Messrs. Rogers and
Upham (Am. Geol., Vol. XI., p. 293 and Vol. XXXIV., p. 203).

2i6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

shelter afforded by the timber, the forests yield food more easily cap-
tured, aj3 well as material for his habitation and for his implements of
war and the household; while the annual devastation by fire rendered
the prairie not only uninhabitable, but actually dangerous. It is cer-
tain, therefore, that the occupancy of the prairies has been, in general,
the latest step in the establishment of the dominion of the aboriginal
tribes. In other words, it is only a late migration which has brought
the Siouan tribes into the plains of the Missouri and of the upper
Mississippi, and with this fact agrees all the evidence that can be found
that bears on it, whether from a study of the people themselves, of the
mounds, or of their traditions.

It will be anticipated, from what has been said thus far, that the
original mound-builder dynasty in the Ohio Valley was destroyed by
an incursion of hostile people belonging to the Algonquian stock. It
will be the burden of the rest of this paper to establish that great pre-
historic event, and to show what effect it had on Minnesota.

Dr. Cyrus Thomas is to be accredited with the most thorough in-
vestigation of the aboriginal earthworks of the country. Under the
direction of the Bureau of Ethnology he has established some important
generalizations and has traced out some of the movements of the tribes
that were concerned in the war which resulted in the expulsion of the
original mound-builders from Ohio and the contiguous regions. Suffice
it to say here that he considers that the evidence shows a movement, at
least an extension, of the earliest mound-builders from the region of
eastern Iowa, southeastern Minnesota, and southwestern Wisconsin,
across Illinois and Indiana into Ohio. He shows that these people were
driven out toward the east and southeast. He traces this retreat, which
may have required several hundred years for its completion, with the
most patient and convincing research, and arrives at the conclusion that
when the whites came upon the scene the defeated and expelled people
were known as Cherokee, living in western North Carolina and eastern
Tennessee, and were still building mounds. The last statement is
abundantly verified, even by historic documents. De Soto met them in
his trip across the cis-Mississippi region, and his chroniclers describe
the mounds which they saw. Some of the mounds built by the Cherokee
in their new home contain articles of European manufacture.

But this line of persistent aggression from the northwest to the
southeast, resulting in the expulsion of the Cherokee from the upper
part of the Ohio Valley, was not the whole of the great war, though
it is the only part that has been established by evidence like that ad-
duced by Dr. Thomas. It can hardly be questioned that such an in-
cursion would have had a disastrous effect on the mound-builders of
the whole Ohio Valley, and that they were all driven out at the same
time and by the same hostile force.

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 217

It is necessary now to rely on tradition, and on the preliminary con-
siderations already presented, to show what became of the rest of the
moundbuilders of the Ohio dynasty. It is apropos, however, to remark
that the whole of the mounctybuilding people could not have escaped by
the route traced out by Thomas up the valley of the Kanawha River.
By far the larger part of them had a habitat further south and further
west, and the most probable line of retreat for them was down the
Ohio Valley.

There are many traditions that relate to the migrations of the native
tribes within the United States. I will call your attention to but two
of them. These relate to the great movements that are here discussed,
but they are confirmed by several others that supply contributory
details, and when taken all together their force amounts almost to as
great a body of evidence as if the events were a matter of history.

These two traditions have been accepted by all archeologists as
trustworthy testimony, as far as the Indians could communicate a his-
tory of past events. The only differences of opinion that have ap-
peared pertain to the interpretation and application of the traditions
themselves.

One of these two traditions recounts the hostile incursion of the
Lenni-Lenape, an Algonquian tribe or group of tribes, into the region
west of the Alleghany Mountains, their conflict with the " Tselaki,"
a word which has been corrupted into Cherokee, and with the Allegewi,
a word which is perpetuated in the term Alleghany, and their final
settlement, under the name Delaware, in the eastern part of Pennsyl-
vania and in New Jersey, together with some further migrations toward
the east. The other relates to the migration of some of the Siouan
tribes down the Ohio Eiver and their going " up stream " and " down
stream " on the Mississippi on reaching the mouth of the Ohio. I do
not know that any one has called in question the essential parts of this
tradition.

John Heckewelder, a Moravian missionary with the Delaware or
Lenni-Lenape in Pennsylvania, gave the first printed account of the
hostile incursion of the Lenni-Lenape against the Ohio mound builders.
It is published in Vol. XII. of the memoirs of the Historical Society
of Pennsylvania, in 1818. He took it from the relation of the intel-
ligent Indians. With some abbreviation it is as follows:

"The Lenni-Lenape (according to traditions handed down to them
by their ancestors) resided many hundred years ago in a very distant
country in the western part of the American continent." For some
reason they determined on migrating to the eastward, and accordingly
set out together in a body. After a very long journey, and with many
long stops on the way, they at length arrived on the " Namaesi-sipu,"
which by Mr. Heckewelder is translated "Mississippi, or Eiver of

218 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fish/' when they fell in with the Mengwe, who had likewise emigrated
from a distant country, and had struck upon this river somewhat
higher up. [The Mengwe were the Iroquois.] " Their object was the
same with that of the Delawares : they were proceeding on to the east-
ward until they should find a country that pleased them. The spies
which the Lenape had sent forward for the purpose of reconnoitering
had long before their arrival discovered that the country east of the
Mississippi was inhabited by a very powerful nation, who had many
large towns built on the great rivers flowing through their land."
These people called themselves Tallegewi or Allegewi. [According to
later research this is the aboriginal rendering of the name " Tselaki "
which De Soto gives to the Cherokee when he encountered them at a
much later date farther south.]

Many wonderful things are told of this famous people. They are said to
have been remarkably tall and stout, and there is a tradition that there were
giants among them, people of much larger size than the tallest of the Lenape.
It is related that they had built for themselves regular fortifications or en-
trenchments, whence they would sally out, but were generally repulsed. I have
seen many of the fortifications said to have been built by them.

When the Lenape arrived on the banks of the Mississippi, they sent a
message to the Allegewi to request permission to settle themselves in their
neighborhood. This was refused them, but they obtained leave to pass through
the country and seek a settlement farther to the eastward. They accordingly
began to cross the Namaesi-sipu, when the Allegewi, seeing that their numbers
were so very great, and in fact consisted of many thousands, made a furious
attack on those who had crossed, threatening them all with destruction if they
dared to persist in coming over to their side of the river. Fired at the treachery
of these people and the great loss of men they had sustained, and besides not
being prepared for a conflict, the Lenape consulted on what was to be done,
whether to retreat in the best manner they could, or try their strength and let
the enemy see that they were not cowards, but men, and too highminded to suffer
themselves to be driven off before they had made trial of their strength and
were convinced that the enemy was too powerful for them. The Mengwe, who
had hitherto been satisfied with being spectators from a distance, offered to
join them on condition that after conquering the country they should be en-
titled to share it with them. Their proposal was accepted, and the resolution
was taken by the two nations to conquer or die.

Having thus united their iorces, the Lenape and the Mengwe declared war
against the Allegewi, and great battles were fought in which many warriors
fell on both sides. The enemy fortified their larger towns, and erected fortifica-
tions, especially on large rivers and near lakes, where they were successively
attacked and sometimes stormed by the allies. An engagement took place in
which hundreds fell, who were afterward buried in holes, or laid together in
heaps, and covered with earth. No quarter was given, so that the Allegewi at
last finding that their destruction was inevitable if they persisted in their
obstinacy, abandoned the country to their conquerors, and fled down the Mis-
sissippi River, whence they never returned. [Mr. Heckewelder gives some
further details of the war, the result of which was that the Mengwe, or Iroquois,
chose the country round the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence River, and the
Lenape settled farther south. After a time the Lenape moved farther east, and
even to the sea.]

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 219

They say, however, that the whole of their nation did not reach this coun-
try; that many remained behind in order to aid and assist that great body of
their people which had not crossed the Namaesi-sipu, but had retreated into the
interior of the country on the other side on being informed of the reception
which those who had crossed had met with, and probably thinking that they had
all been killed by the enemy.

The tradition continues further, but is not essential to this inquiry
except so far as it shows that the Lenape finally spread themselves into
the eastern states, establishing new tribes, and into Virginia and Mary-
land, and states that these younger offshoots recognized their relation-
ship by calling the Lenape their grandfathers, this proving a confirma-
tion of the recentness of the southern Algonquian tribes.

Several important conclusions can be drawn from this tradition,
should it be accepted as mainly based on fact. First of all it should,
however, be remarked that the well-known Iroquois were never on
the Mississippi Elver in any such war. Either some other river must
be understood, or it must be presumed that the alliance with the
Mengwe was an event of the later part of the war, and that in the
relation it was not sufficiently indicated that the Lenape waged alone
a long war of aggression against the Allegewi and drove them from a
large part of their domain before the Iroquois tendered their services.
The latter alternative is the more probable, since the Huron-Iroquois
have only been known as an eastern nation, and since the legend would
not so many times mention the Mississippi by name unless there was
a grounded conviction in the mind of the narrator, which seemed not
likely to be misunderstood, that the Mississippi was crossed by the
Lenape.5

We may reasonably infer from this tradition, in the light of what
we know from a study of the mounds and their characteristic dis-
tribution :

1. That the Lenape struck the then mound-builders in southeastern
Minnesota and northeastern Iowa, in the region of the effigy mounds,
these earthworks being admitted by all to be older than the great mass
of the small tumuli of the Mississippi Valley.

2. There was a period of interruption in the war during which the
aggressors rested and dwelt peacefully in the land which they had won.

3. On the resumption of the war not all of the Lenape participated,
but some remained on the banks of the Mississippi. These may have
become known later as the Kaskaskia, Kikapoo, Illinois, Miami, and
further south, the Shawnee. It is distinctly stated that a large body

5 Since this was written the old Dutch map of unknown date has been dis-
covered showing " Iroquoysen " in the region of northern Wisconsin, and if
dependence can be placed on that map the Iroquois (i. e., the Hurons or other
tribe of that stock) may have united with the Lenape on the east bank of the
Mississippi in Wisconsin, according to the statement of the tradition.

2 2o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

remained, some " beyond the Mississippi/' and others " where they left
them on this side of the river/' in the words of the missionary.

Mr. G. E. Squier (1848) later examined this tradition. He fell
into the possession of a series of original manuscripts, "through the
hands of the executors of the lamented Nicollet/' among which was
one by Professor C. S. Rafmesque, which was entitled the " Walum
Olum/' a record preserved on painted sticks, translated by Rafmesque
from the original symbols and the Algonquian words written along
with them by some interpreter who understood both.

Omitting those portions relating to the creation of the earth, to
the deluge and the running off of the waters which show the effects
of contact with the European missionaries, I will briefly mention the
views of Mr. Squier and the points of coincidence or divergence from
the rendition of Heckewelder. Mr. Squier says :

The details of the migrations here recounted, particularly so far as they
relate to the passage of the Mississippi and the subsequent contest with the
Tallegwi or Allegwi, and the final expulsion of the latter, coincide generally
with those given by various authors, and well known to have existed among
the Delawares.

According to the Rafmesque rendition, as given by Squier, there
were two great wars. The first was after a migration from the north
to the south, attended by a contest with a people denominated Snakes,
who were driven toward the east, and the Lenape remained for a time
in their land, and multiplied and spread toward the south to a beauti-
ful land which is also called " big-fir " land. In consequence of drouth
they move again south into the buffalo land. Here they dwell for
some time, when finally their chief leads them toward the rising sun
and they arrive at the " Messissipee " or the Great River, the Missis-
sippi, when they stop ; but they soon descry the Tallegwi and make war
upon them. This war continues through the lives of several chiefs,
but ends by the expulsion of the Tallegwi who were driven southward,
the victors taking possession of the land where they resided and
flourished under a long succession of chiefs. Here they built towns and
planted corn, and here, after the expulsion of the Allegewi, is the first
mention of the Iroquois, and instead of being their allies they are
enemies. They are called Talamatan and Mengwe.

Then commences, apparently, a repetition of the same narration in
different words and more in detail, a characteristic feature of many
ancient records and legends. In this account, the Lenape departed
from a northland, where it was cold and froze and stormed, and they
went south to possess milder lands abounding in game. They hunted
in all directions and came to the Snake land, whose inhabitants fled

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 221

in great fear.6 The pursuers passed over a hard, stony and frozen
" sea/' and came to the land of fir trees, which they called " Shinaki."

After the lapse of an indefinite time, during which they remained
in the land of firs and came into hostile contact with several of the
surrounding people, among whom are Chiconapi, Makatopi, Akonapi
and Assinapi, they passed " over a hollow mountain " and found food
in the plains of the buffalo land, along a yellow river, where they built
towns and raised corn, and remained for a long time, under a number
of different chiefs.

Becoming dissatisfied, they " longed for the rich east-land," and
on moving in that direction they came into conflict with the Tallegewi.
" The Talamatan and the Nitilowan all go united " (to the war) ; and
fell upon and slew great numbers of the Tallegewi. Sometimes they
were repulsed by the Tallegewi, but finally all their towns were cap-
tured and they fled to the south, and the Talamatan (Hurons?) settled
north of the lakes, the Lenape on the south side, i. e., in the land of
the Tallegewi.

The rest of the chronicle pertains to later movements in Pennsyl-
vania and New Jersey and their early dealings with the English.

According to both these renditions, all those events preceding the
crossing of the Mississippi may have taken place, and probably did,
in the region extending from the Hudson Bay southward to the north-
ern boundary line of Iowa, or some miles farther south. The Snake
land is problematical, but seems to have been in Canada. The crossing
of the frozen water may have been the crossing of the Bainy Lake, or
some of the contiguous waters. Shinaki, the land of firs, is the pine-
clad region of northern Minnesota. The Assinapi could not have been
the Dakota Assiniboins, but may have been some Indians living in the
same rocky region.7 The Buffalo land may have been the southern part
of Minnesota and northern Iowa. The " Yellow " Biver, where they
raised corn, may have been that which by the early French was called
" La Jaune riviere/' now known as Vermilion Biver, uniting with the
Mississippi a little below Hastings, and it is probable that the Talle-
gewi, as before, were the effigy-builders of the Wisconsin-Minnesota-
Iowa region of the old mound-builders. Their movements through the

6 The term " Snake " here may mean nothing more than enemy. The
Algonquian termed the Iroquois snakes, also the Dakota, applying to them
the term Nadoue, or Nadoivay, or finally Nadouessi. The last became with the
French Nadouesioux and with the English Siovx.

7 The Algonquian words asin and ovoan, from which the term Assiniboin is
derived, simply means stone people. It is commonly supposed to have reference
to the use of heated stones by which they made water sufficiently hot to cook
food. But instead it may more probably be referred to the characters of the
country in which they lived, which was called by Nicolut the " region of rocks
and water." The cooking of food by water heated by stones was not peculiar
to them.

222 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

country east of the Mississippi, according to one of these renditions, was
marked by the friendship and later by the hostility of the Talamatan.

It remains to notice one more interpretation of this tradition, that
of the late Dr. D. G. Brinton. On a previous page has been given the
arrangement which Dr. Brinton presents of the tribes of the Algon-
quian, having the Cree dialect, which is that characteristic of the
region of northern Minnesota and thence northward to Hudson Bay,
at the head of the list. Dr. Brinton remarks of this:

The dialects of all these were related and evidently at some distant day
had been derived from the same primitive tongue. Which of them had pre-
served the ancient forms most ciosely, it may be premature to decide posi-
tively, but the tendency of modern studies has been to assign that place to
the Cree, the northernmost of all.

Accepting this indication for what it may be worth, it certainly
points to the Cree, or Kilistino, as being not only more nearly con-
nected geographically with the primitive habitat of the Algonquian,
but also as representing their ancestors' tongue more nearly than any
other dialect of the Algonquian stock. This will allow the post-glacial
migration of that stock from the southwest, as has been supposed, per-
haps from Colorado and Wyoming, where they seem still to have a
representative in the Arapahoe. The Cheyenne who are now associated
with the Arapahoe are later comers, having joined the Arapahoe from
the northeast within the historic period. On this supposition, the
dialect of the Arapahoe would prove, on close comparison, to be more
archaic than all other Algonquian dialects, holding for that stock the
same position as that held for the Siouan stock by the Catawba dialect
in South Carolina, and the late researches of Kroeber bear out this
presumption.

As to the tradition itself, it should be premised that Dr. Brinton,
along with Horatio Hale, had a belief that the American aborigines
had all migrated from the Atlantic coast westward, having reached
America from Europe, derived perhaps from some obscure people in
the northern part of Spain. Mr. Hale, who seems to be the chief sup-
porter of this view, in referring to migrations of the Indians quotes
only historic movements, which certainly have been largely westward,
due probably to the encroachments of the whites since the Columbian
discovery. It is simply a geographical and historical accident that we
are more familiar with the migrations of the eastern Indians than we
are with the western. Under the influence of this preconceived idea,
which, according to Mr. W. M. Beauchamp, was based on simply a
linguistic " likeness " to one or more of the Indian tongues, Dr. Brin-
ton has taken, it seems to me, great liberties with this tradition, inso-

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 223

much that he has reversed the direction of the main movement, making
it westward instead of eastward, thus making it conform to the direc-
tion of historic migrations, with which he seems to think it should be
made to agree. He supposes the Lenni-Lenape " at some remote period
dwelt far to the northeast, on tidewater, probably Labrador. They
journeyed south and west till they reached a broad water full of islands
and abounding in fish, perhaps the St. Lawrence about the Thousand
Islands." This is quoted verbatim from Dr. Brinton. With similarly
violent alterations from the legend, the Lenape are carried into Ohio
and Indiana and thence back again to northern New York, having
united with the Talamatan (Hurons) to drive out the Talega or Chero-
kees from the upper Ohio, which they only succeeded in doing finally
in the historic period. These alterations from the sense of the tradi-
tion, as formerly understood, he claims to be warranted by the dis-
covery of errors in the earlier translations.

The Snake people are relegated to myth, perhaps with correctness.
He thinks the legend here relates a conflict between the Algonquian
hero-god and the serpent of the waters, a myth which is found also
among the Iroquois. After the conclusion of this conflict, the people
found themselves in a cold northern country, whence they departed in
search of warmer lands. Not recognizing the repetition in the legend
of the same story, Dr. Brinton has the Snake war continue on through,
and after, the settlement in Shinaki or the "land of spruce pines."
Then comes the Lenap 'Allegewi war and the possession of the con-
quered country.

Neither time nor your patience would warrant me in entering upon
a detailed consideration of the validity of the changes introduced by
Dr. Brinton. I have carefully examined some of them that have some
geographic relation to the country concerned, and will mention only
that relating to the so-called " Yellow " Biver, where, according to the
legend, the Lenape dwelt and raised corn " on a stoneless soil."
Dr. Brinton considers this stream (Wissawanna) a small river in
Indiana, a branch of the Kankakee, saying that on Hough's map of
Indian names of Indiana that word has been corrupted to " Wethogan,"
and that the Minsi, one of the Lenape sub-tribes, were found there in
1721 by Charlevoix, and that they made their first migration from the
east about 1690. This involves a historical anachronism, inasmuch as
it makes an event occurring in 1690 to 1721 explain a doubtful point
in a legend which is wholly confined to prehistoric time. If the Yel-
low Biver was first named in 1690-1721 it is not likely to have had
that name when the Lenape were waging their war in prehistoric time
before they had yet settled in New Jersey. Again the region is said to
have a " stoneless soil," which could hardly be affirmed of northern

224 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Indiana.8 But if the reference of the tradition to a " Yellow " Eiver
be not to the Missouri, as has been supposed by some, there is a Yellow
Eiver in Minnesota, if another is needed, viz., that now called Ver-
milion Eiver, entering the Mississippi below Hastings, which, indeed,
has a stoneless soil. From there southward extends the " driftless
region " on the east of the Mississippi, and in that vicinity are the first
of the effigy mounds, i. e., in the Cannon Valley and in Goodhue and
Wabasha counties and extending southward, while on the east side of
the Mississippi is the central and most characteristic region of effigy
mounds. It is not at all improbable that the migrating Lenape made
a long halt in the valley of the Vermilion, contiguous to these mound-
builders before they entered upon the great war.

This is the first of the great legends to which I called your atten-
tion. The second is that which brought the Dakota tribes into Minne-
sota, and it doubtless pertains to a time nearly cotemporary with that
which refers to the Lenape. It comes to us from the other party to
the great conflict, and it no doubt refers to the consequences of the
Lenape invasion. This legend is found amongst several of the Dakota
tribes, and even amongst the later Algonquian who returned westward
to the Mississippi Valley. I will not dwell on the details with those
separate tribes, but simply mention the tribes with which it has been
handed down from generation to generation, viz., Osage, Omaha, Man-
dan, Kansa and Akansea, and Ponca. These tribes concur in saying
that they formerly dwelt in the Ohio and Wabash valleys, and that
they moved down the Ohio Valley, where they were separated into two
divisions at the mouth of the Ohio Eiver, some of them going down
the Mississippi and some of them up the same river. They repeated
such segregation at the Missouri, where, as it appears from the pres-
ervation of the name, the Mantane divided into two parties, one of
which became the Mandans and the other the Mantanton, the latter
being one of the tribes of the Issanti at Mille Lac in 1701 when these
tribes were enumerated by Le Sueur, at Fort L'Huillier. The name
Issati or Isanti, is itself, apparently, another form of a name of the
Siouan South Carolinan Santee, and sometimes, even now, it reverts
to the original spelling. If so, they preserved their name during their
long residence in the Ohio Valley as moundbuilders.

This tradition is linked in with some historic data in about the
same manner that the Lenape migration is linked, and verified by some
scant connection with historic events. With this migration the terri-
tory of Minnesota was almost wholly occupied by the Siouan stock, and

8 According to Leverett's late description of the valley ol Yellow River in
Indiana, the lower reaches of the valley have a sandy loam soil in which the
drainage is very imperfect, and the valley for fifteen miles above its union with
the Kankakee is narrow. Above that point the Yellow River drains a stony
region comprised in the Maxinkuckee moraine. Ill Glac. Lobe, p. 507 ; Mem.
U. S. G. 8., XXXVIII.

PREHISTORIC ABORIGINES OF MINNESOTA 225

that stock controlled it till the last incursion of the Ojibway from Lake
Superior, when, with the great battle of Kathio, another culminating
event of the hereditary war took place. This brings us to recent time
in Minnesota and it is not necessary to enter upon later tragic events.

There is still, however, one other point to which I wish to refer,
viz., in coming to Minnesota those mound-builders who ascended the
Mississippi above the mouth of the Wisconsin Eiver returned to their
former home. They may have recognized it as the scene of their first
defeat by the Lenape, and probably some of them remained there and
resumed the construction of mounds. It is admitted by all who have
given attention to the subject that the effigy mounds are of a class dis-
tinct from and older than 'the tumuli that are scattered amongst them
and which prevail in Minnesota and Dakota. The "Winnebago may
have been effigy-builders when the Lenape crossed the Mississippi.
If so, they must have fled northward from their enemies, instead of
southward, and thus escaped the fate of their kindred. They perhaps
remained in southern Wisconsin during the whole Lenap'Alligewi war,
and so probably welcomed the fugitives on their return. This may
account for that curious geographical extension of the Dakota stock
on the east of the Mississippi in a narrow tongue reaching Lake Mich-
igan; and it also accounts for the fact that linguistically the Winne-
bago dialect is one of the oldest of the Siouan stock found in the upper
Mississippi region ; and further, that the Winnebago are called " grand-
fathers " by the other tribes.

Thus it appears that the mound-builder dynasty was divided into
two parts by a great national misfortune. The Ohio dynasty endured
a long period of time. It was probably coeval with the effigy mound-
building period or closely followed it. The Minnesota dynasty is com-
paratively recent, and was short, at the utmost not exceeding 500 years,
and extended down to the incoming of the whites.

In conclusion, I can make the merest reference to another prehis-
toric migration affecting Minnesota, of later date than the preceding.
It is well established by coherent and reliable tradition that the Hidatsa
Indians, associates of the Mandans on the upper Missouri, also called
Minnitari, of the same stock as the Mandans, migrated from Minnesota
across the prairie and settled with the Mandans.

We see then that the succession of dynasties in Minnesota is as
follows :

1. Algonquian (small area in the southeast also held by the Ohio
mound-builders) .

2. Siouan, fugitives from Ohio (establishing the Minnesota dynasty
of mound-builders).

3. Ojibwa (Algonquian) incursion from Lake Superior, dividing
the state with the Siouan people.

4. Aryan civilization.

226 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE MOVEMENT TOWAEDS "PHYSIOLOGICAL"
PSYCHOLOGY. IV

By Professor R M. WENLEY

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

VI

"XT OW that Herbert Spencer and Eduard von Hartmann have passed
-LN away, Wundt stands almost alone among living thinkers. The
importance of his philosophical contribution ranks second only to his
epoch-making career in psychology. Time forbids more than this
reference to it; but I may add that, very likely, his philosophical atti-
tude possesses a future. For he heads a rising school which holds that
a main business of philosophy in present circumstances is to unify and
systematize the manifold results garnered piecemeal by the positive
sciences.

Born in 1832, Wundt began his academic career as a medical
student at Heidelberg in 1851, and continued the same studies later at
Tubingen and Berlin, where he resided at the close of Johannes
Midler's professorship. In 1856 he worked for a year in the physi-
ological laboratory at Heidelberg under Helmholtz. On the scientific
side he came under the influence of M tiller, Fr. Arnold (in anatomy),
Hasse (in pathology), E. H. and W. Weber, Helmholtz, Lotze, Bain
and Fechner. Early in life he also made acquaintance with the philo-
sophical work of Leibniz, Kant, Herbart and Lotze. As stated above,1
he records that, in psychology, he owes the largest debt to Kant and
Herbart ; this explains not a few of his later positions, especially those
to which younger men, of purely experimental training, have taken
exception, without over-much appreciation sometimes, I fear, of what
exactly they opposed. His life-work as a teacher and investigator has
lain at Zurich, and Leipzig, whither he was called in 1876, and where,
in 1879, he set up the first purely psychological laboratory,2 an example
followed since by many of the great universities in all civilized lands.
Unlike his predecessors, especially Weber, Helmholtz, Lotze and
Fechner, he has not concentrated his attention upon this or that re-
stricted group of psycho-physiological phenomena, but has ranged over
the entire field, with the result that psychology owes to him at once
that ever enters high school.

1 Article I.

2 1 am not forgetting James's laboratory at Harvard in 1875, which was
physiological.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 227

its present systematic form and its definite place in the fellowship of
the special sciences. For these reasons, his influence and methods have
penetrated everywhere.

A bare list of his principal works suffices to exhibit the range and
force of his tireless activity : " Beitrage zur Lehre von den Muskel-
bewegungen," 1858; "Beitrage zur Theorie der Sinneswahrnemung,"
1859-62 ; " Vorlesungen iiber die Menschen- und Thierseele," 1863, 2d
ed., 1892 (Eng. trans.) ; " Grundztige der physiologischen Psychologie,"
1874, 5th ed., 1902 (Eng. trans.); " Ueber die Aufgaben der Phi-
losophic in der Gegenwart," 1874 ; " Ueber den Einfluss der Philosophic
auf die Erfahrungswissenschaften," 1876 ; " Logik," 1880-83 ; " Ethik,"
1886, 2d ed., 1892 (Eng. trans.); "System der Philosophie," 1889;
" Grundriss der Psychologie," 1898 (Eng. trans.); " Volkerpsy-
chologie," 1900-06; and many contributions of first-rate importance
to Philosopliische Studien, the organ of his laboratory and philosophical
circle, since 1881, the first year of its publication. When we remember
that four of these books are masterpieces, and that one of them is
the recognized classic in its subject, some idea of Wundt's importance
emerges.

Seizing the opportunity incident to his historical position, Wundt
aimed to relieve psychology from the reproach of being merely an
instance of more or less loose descriptive classification. He proposed
to lift it to the level of scientific explanation. By what means ?

It is experiment that has been the source of the decided advance in natural
science, and brought about such revolutions in our scientific views. Let us now
apply experiment to the science of mind. We must remember that in eveiy de-
partment of investigation the experimental method takes on a special form,
according to the nature of the facts investigated. We can not experiment upon
mind itself, but only upon its outworks, the organs of sense and movement
which are functionally related to mental processes. So that every psychological
experiment is at the same time physiological, just as there are physical sciences
corresponding to the mental processes of sensation, idea and will. This, of
course, is no reason for denying to experiment the character of a psychological
method. It is simply due to the general conditions of our mental life, one
aspect of which is its constant connection with the body.3

Or, again :

Psychology is compelled to make use of objective changes in order, by
means of the influence which they exert on our consciousness, to establish the
subjective properties and laws of that consciousness.*

Or, once more :

Physiological psychology is, therefore, first of all psychology. It has in
view the same principal object upon which all other forms of psychological
investigation are directed: the investigation of conscious processes in the modes

3 " Human and Animal Psychology," p. 10 (Eng. trans.).

4 Philos. Studien, I., p. 4.

228 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of connection peculiar to them. It is not a province of physiology; nor does it
attempt, as has been mistakenly asserted, to derive or explain the phenomena
of the psychical from those of the physical life. We may read this meaning
into the phrase " physiological psychology," just as we might interpret " micro-
scopical anatomy " to mean a discussion, with illustrations from anatomy, of
what has been accomplished by the microscope; but the words should be no
more misleading in the one case than they are in the other. As employed in the
present work, the adjective " physiological " implies simply that our psychology
will avail itself to the full of the means that modern physiology puts at its
disposal for the analysis of conscious processes.5

But, had lie gone no farther than this, Wundt could scarcely be
excepted from the condemnation of his predecessors, or from that under
which some of his scholars have fallen. For, plainly, it could be
objected that he had omitted the two most remarkable facts of con-
sciousness which, stated synoptically, are its intensive or individual
centralization, and its extensive development in society. These aspects
of the matter tend to get beyond psychological management, as they
assuredly raise ultimate philosophical problems. Wundt's high dis-
tinction is attributable mainly to his recognition of and attack upon
these difficulties. So, his psychology offers a second, and broader,
side, set forth, for example, in his excursus entitled " Philosophie und
Wissenschaft " ("Essays," 1881), and present as a constructive, pos-
sibly a disturbing, element, in his entire purview of the psychological
field. For instance, in his " System," the theory of the " growth of
mental values " bears precisely upon these questions. " Mental life is,
extensively and intensively, governed by a law of growth of values :
extensively, inasmuch as the multiplicity of mental developments is
always on the increase; intensively, inasmuch as the values which
appear in these developments increase in degree."6 And, on the
strictly psychological side, he takes note of the same things as follows :

We may add that, fortunately for the science, there are other sources of
objective psychological knowledge, which become accessible at the very point
where the experimental method fails us. These are certain products of the
common mental life, in which we may trace the operation of determinate
psychical motives; chief among them are language, myth and custom. In part
determined by historical conditions, they are also, in part, dependent upon uni-
versal psychological laws; and the phenomena, that are referable to these laws
form the subject-matter of a special psychological discipline, ethnic psychology.
The results of ethnic psychology constitute, at the same time, our chief source
of information regarding the general psychology of the complex mental proc-
esses. In this way, experimental psychology and ethnic psychology form the
two principal departments of scientific psychology at large. They are supple-
mented by child and animal psychology, which, in conjunction with ethnic
psychology, attempt to resolve the problems of psychogenesis. . . . Finally, child
psychology and experimental psychology in the narrower sense may be bracketed

■"'Physiological Psychology," Vol. I., p. 2 (Eng. trans.).
6" System der Phil." (2d ed.), p. 304.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 229

together as individual psychology, while animal psychology and ethnic psy-
chology form the two halves of a generic or comparative psychology-.7

So far the extensive development. On the side of intensive cen-
tralization Wundt's doctrine of apperception provides the necessary
hypothesis. To these aspects of the subject I can only refer now.

Turning at once to the " Physiological Psychology," we find that it
proceeds, as scientific method dictates, from the simple to the complex.
After an introduction, Part I. discusses the bodily Substrate of the
Mental Life; Part II. the Elements of the Mental Life; Part III. the
Formation of Sensory Ideas; Part IV. the Affective Process and Voli-
tional Action; Part. V. the Course and the Connection of Mental
Processes; Part VI. adds Final Considerations. Thus, we pass from
the functions of the nervous system, by way of sensation, feeling and
presentation, to consciousness in the formation of ideas and in the
train of ideas, which, in turn, involves attention, apperception, and
will, not forgetting phenomena such as association, imagination and
emotion. Two reasons make it hard to select this or that, and to say,
Here Wundt excels. First, profuse wealth of suggestion and result
is scattered everywhere. Second, the successive editions of the " Phys-
iological Psychology " constitute the life history of Wundt's own mind
in relation to the subject as a whole; and only psychologists von Fach
can supply the necessary light and shade. It appears to me that special
interest attaches to his discussion of Muller's theory of specific energies,
because it reveals Wundt's view of the part played by the nervous sys-
tem in the psychological organization; to his criticism of the Young-
Helmholtz theory of color, because it attacks the " mystery " of -space-
perception; to the treatment of sensation, the duration of mental
processes, and association, because they afford typical instances of the
new data which experimental psychology can bestow upon analyses of
psychical phenomena. Doubtless, professed psychologists would insist
upon other points. For my part, the central interest still attaches
to Wundt's theory of apperception and will. I take the former as a
typical illustration of the direction in which physiological psychology
moves.

In apperception the conscious being brings his entire unity of ex-
perience to bear on the object now in the field of his attention. We
light upon an inner and elaborative activity which " bears the stamp of
spontaneity." Evidently, a process complex in the highest degree!
My expert colleague, Professor Pillsbury, has analyzed it as follows:
Apperception involves four elements. "(1) Increase of clearness in
the idea directly before the mind, accompanied by the immediate feel-
ing of activity; (2) inhibition of other ideas; (3) muscular strain
sensations, with the feelings connected with them, intensifying the

'"Physiol. Psych.," Vol. I., pp. 5-6 (Eng. trans.).

23o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

primary feeling of activity; (4) the reflex effect of these strain sensa-
tions, intensifying the idea apperceived."8 Despite this complexity,
the apperceptive theory posits fundamentally a necessary " original
activity," or " psychical energy," which arises from within conscious-
ness and transforms, as by a synthesis, what, for convenience sake, may
be termed simple factors. Physiological stimulus pales, and subjective
transitiveness becomes determining. This activity has close connection
with will, often with choice. How can it be explained? With Wundt
the term consciousness possesses a special and restricted meaning. It
consists of all contents, such as feelings, ideas, excitations of the will,
and — there is no underlying substance or occult being. This represents
the analytic aspect; the synthetic remains to be reckoned with. Now,
the spontaneous activity of the mind itself, whereby presentations come
to be distinguished clearly, appears as appercipient attention, when
brought to play upon perceptions or upon the " stream of conscious-
ness," and as volition, when it originates movements of the body.
Obviously, the former is the more fundamental, because, in it, I connect
my ideas with my will. It " depends, on the one hand, upon the
stimuli then at work; and, on the other hand, upon the total state of
consciousness, bow it is made up that is, by present impressions and
prior experiences. ... If we would describe more nearly what it is
that we experience in ourselves when pleased or pained we can not do
this more concretely than by denoting pleasure as a straining after,
and pain as a straining against, an object."9 We may say, then, that
apperception means will brought to bear upon states of consciousness
and then directed to external muscular acts. For, " there is absolutely
nothing outside man or in him which we can call wholly or entirely
his own except his will."10 So Wundt finds the existence of a synthetic
activity of consciousness beyond the range of mere association. With-
out going far wrong, we might term this the single faculty into which
all the faculties of the old psychology are absorbed. For it compares
and selects among conscious states ; or peraclventure, it can be described
as a species of conscious striving. Here, then, the mental unity pre-
sents its distinctive, differentiating nature, and, as some have indeed
supposed, might be held exempt from the persistent sapping of psycho-
physiological method, secluding itself within its unattainable citadel.
But this is a complete mistake; and I take the opportunity to call
attention to Wundt's modern position even here, a pronouncement the
more necessary that he has been so frequently misunderstood, strangely
enough, by those who ought to know better. Apperception, or what
you please, happens to be an undoubted fact of mental life. Accord-

8

Am. Journal of Psych., Vol. VIII., part 3.
"Physiol. Psych.," p. 535, Vol. I. (3d ed.)
" System d. Phil.," p. 387.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 231

ingly, it must submit to experimental treatment. A process exists,
therefore analysis is free to track it to its lair. And, especially when
the problem of duration raises its head, as it does inevitably, a cumula-
tive series of experiments is in strict order.

What happens when apperception occurs? Generally, of course, a
transformation of sensory into motor activity. In detail, according to
Wundt, a train of processes has supervened, viz.: (1) Transmission
from the sense-organ to the brain; (2) entrance into the "field of
view," that is, existence of simple perception; (3) entrance into the
"point of view," when perception becomes discernment; (4) activity of
will, with innervation of the central organism through the motor-
nerves, and (5) the resultant excitation of the muscles. Plainly, the
crux hides in (3), which is purely psychological, while the others have
a clear physiological reference. Nevertheless, (3) happens to be so
surrounded by physiological phenomena that it is open to observation
and experiment and these methods have been concentrated upon a
research into the cerebral changes which accompany perception, apper-
ception and will, respectively.11 These experiments, although elaborate,
and becoming more elaborate, may be classed under three heads.
(1) The investigation of simple physiological time, that is, when the
subject is aware of the coming impression, but is ignorant just when it
will take place. (2) Those in which even this element of ignorance
is eliminated. (3) Those in which modifications are possible widely,
because, for example, the subject does not know what the impression
will be, or is unaware of the character of the stimulus in such a way
that he does not know how precisely he will be called upon to register
it. In combination, these experiments show, as Wundt infers, that the
exact moment of appercipience is dependent upon the self-accommoda-
tion of the subject, particularly in the matter of attention. Take the
third case :

An indicator is kept moving at a uniform rate over a graduated scale, and
so situated that the place of the needle can be clearly seen at each instant
of time. The action of the same clock which moves the needle causes a sound
at any moment, but in such a way that the subject of the experiment does not
know when to expect it. With what position of the needle, now, will the sensa-
tion of sound be combined? Will the sound be heard exactly when it occurs, as
indicated by the needle; or later than its real time (" positive " lengthening) ;
or earlier than its real time (" negative" lengthening) ? The result shows that
one rarely hears the sound without either positive or negative displacement of
it; but most frequently the lengthening is negative — that is, one believes one
hears the sound before it really occurs as measured by the indicator."

In this connection, then, the fundamental problem of physiological

11 Cf. Cattell in Mind, XIIL, pp. 37 ff. (old series), and Titchener in ibid.,
I., pp. 206 ff. (new series).

12 " Elements of Physiological Psychology," Ladd, p. 488.

232 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

psychology is, " to determine the simple reaction-time, and from it to
find the factors of psycho-physical time — namely, perception-time, ap-
perception-time (or discernment-time), and will-time."13

Along this line laboratory investigation has been able to show that
the will does, as a matter of record, occasion changes in the central
physiological mechanism, and that these changes possess quantitative
differences having more or less definite relation to psychical activity.
By this I understand that the latent energy of the nerve-cells is sum-
moned to activity, and that, as a result, the brain labors hard. In our
own laboratory I have seen the subject of an attention experiment pour
with perspiration, although physically he was, to all appearance, quite
quiescent. No better proof of intense cerebral work could be desired.
And experiment simply attempts to relate this energizing to the con-
comitant psychological states.

But Wundt has committed himself to the modern attitude even
further. In the first and second editions of his " Physiological Psy-
chology," he suggested that the frontal regions of the brain are related
to apperception as the " bearers of the physiological processes which
accompany the apperception of the presentations of sense."14 In other
words, all stages of the apperceptive process are accompanied by a
fixed physiological activity. Beyond the circumstance that this assigns
a function to the frontal regions which, otherwise, stand out of dis-
tinct relation to the factors of consciousness, it must be regarded as a
speculation. Wundt himself, although he does not dismiss the
hypothesis, tends to minimize it from his third edition. Yet it serves
to show how persistently he clings to the true psycho-physiological
method even in regard to the most recondite operation of the mind.

It remains to note that the influence of mind over body demands
study as much as the converse. If apperception be a legitimate supposi-
tion— and it would seem to be a hypothesis which at least accounts for
unquestioned facts, then it follows that we must estimate it, not by
external stimulus, but in terms of internal activity. And this, of
course, reminds us that psycho-physiological investigation has proved
the existence of an influential voluntaristic element. No doubt, to this
point, the former has claimed, and still claims, the lion's share of
experimental attention. So that, in many ways, the internal problem
awaits concentrated attack. That is to say, physical and physiological
problems, being so much more readily amenable to the new methods,
have tended to crowd out the distinctively psychological material.
Nevertheless, we have arrived at something analogous to a causal influ-
ence of the central nervous system upon what I shall call ideation.
This was the indispensable initial step. But yet, this causality is

13 Ibid., p. 472.

14 Second edition, Vol. I., p. 218.

PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 233

necessarily in consciousness, and, in so far forth, is not causal at all.
For, of nervous states as such we do not know anything, and never can
know anything. Accordingly, the other side proffers its claim, which,
in the light of this agnosticism, is very far from being modest. This
point was admirably taken by Professor Cattell, in his vice-presidential
address to the Anthropological Section of the American Association for
the Advancement of Science, in 1888 :

Much is being written just now regarding the relation of consciousness to
the brain. The question is: Do perceptions, thoughts, feelings, volitions, stand
in causal interaction with the brain, or are they an epiphenomenon, accom-
panying changes in the brain but not influencing them? Are our ordinary
actions complex reflexes due to physical stimuli and the structure of the nervous
system, or are the changes in the brain that precede movements initiated and
directed by consciousness? The question is one of facts that should be settled
by scientific methods; and the solution will by no means concern psychology
alone. The two greatest scientific generalizations of the present century are the
conservation of energy and evolution by the survival of the fit. Now, if con-
sciousness alters, however slightly, the position of molecules in the brain the
fundamental concept of physical science must be abandoned. If consciousness
have no concern in the actions of the individual we have one of the most com-
plex results of evolution developed apart from the survival of useful variations,
and the Darwinian theory has failed.16

We conclude then with the startling reflection that psychology is
the keeper of a tremendous oracle. And, on the whole, the oracle keeps
silence still.

16 P. 12.

234 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE PEACTICAL VALUE OF PUKE SCIENCE

By Professor THOS. H. MONTGOMERY, Jr.

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA

THKOUGH all ages men have asked, What is worth while? The
answer has been, at least from those not stupefied by pessimism,
that many things are worth the while : happiness, self-respect, health,
friendship, honor, wealth, all these are worth having, and any work
that helps to secure them deserves the undertaking. It is the old ques-
tion of what man should try to attain, and about it many a system of
philosophy has reared itself, though for the most part on shaking legs.

Through this conflict of opinion we have come to pride ourselves
upon being practical, even to such an extent as to consider abnormal
any one who does not share this quality. To be practical means to be
able to turn knowledge to useful account, to make of it some rather
immediate application. With us Americans to be practical means too
often to make and save money, forgetting that money is only a tool.
Personally I would hold that man to be most practical who gets the
most happiness out of life. But at the present we are concerned only
with the question, that may seem a paradox, how can pure science be
a practical undertaking?

Science in the strict sense, or pure science, is the search for the
explanation of things. It is not the collecting of statistics, nor the
cataloguing of them, nor the construction of systems, for however much
these operations may help science, they do not compose it. Science is
the light that points out what different phenomena have in common,
and establishes their origins and changes. To-day the term is often
taken in vain, as when we speak of pugilistic, tonsorial and domestic
science, which shows that the general idea of it is any special skill
or knowledge. But pure science, as strictly used, is much more than
either skill or knowledge, it is explanation without any thought of
immediate application to human needs.

How, then, is pure science practical, when it avowedly seeks no
quick useful end? It is so, as its records show, by serving as the pio-
neer that makes possible utilitarian ends, it breaks a road through the
unknown for application to follow. For not until science has given
the explanation can we turn that explanation to use. And the exam-
ples that I shall proceed to relate show clearly that the pursuit of pure
science has made possible many of the benefits that we now enjoy.

THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 235

It would be well worth while to stop to consider how much the
various branches of engineering owe to pure mathematics and pure
physics; or to relate the rise of numerous great industries that have
grown out of the theoretical study of chemistry. Where would be our
electric lighting and transportation but for the explanations of Frank-
lin, Volta and Faraday ? But I will limit myself to the practical value
of pure science as exemplified by a particular one, biology. In making
this restriction I should add that history tells how each of the pure
sciences has led to useful ends, so that biology is but one of several
cooperating sisters, each making her contribution to greater human
happiness.

Biology has to explain the nature of living energies in treating of
animals and plants and of man himself. Biology has to interpret
processes, and this it attempts to do in a variety of ways accordiug
to the nature of the problem, the material and the bias of the thinker.
Biology has to some extent grown up side by side with medicine; each
helped the other in the days of their beginnings, and for that reason
we may first treat its practical bearings to medicine.

In the seventeenth century the microscope came into use and it
opened up, in the hands of Leeuwenhoek and Schwammerdamm, a
wealth of unexpected detail. Leeuwenhoek exhibited his dissection of
an ant to the delighted eyes of a king; since that time the tastes of
royalty seem to have deteriorated. But such discoveries in the finer
details of anatomy only presented new problems. The partial expla-
nation came in 1838 with Schleiden and the following year with
Schwann, who stated that animals and plants are built up of definite
living units, the cells; that such units compose the tissues that had
been determined by the physiologist Bichat, and that the organs are
composed of definite layers of cells. The simplest animals, what we
now call the Protozoa, were shown by Dujardin to be each composed
of only a single cell. We define a cell as a particular mass of living
substance regulated by a particular center, the nucleus. This view
was strengthened by the notable researches of particularly von Kolliker
and Max Schultze, and so gradually extended to all animals and plants
as well as to the human body. Eduard van Beneden later finally
settled the fact that the egg, the beginning of each many-celled animal,
is itself a single cell. Thus biologists have come to concentrate their
attention upon cell activities, and this cell unit has proved as fruitful
in biology as the atom in chemistry, though the cell is something vastly
more complex than many atoms. Now there grew up with this new
doctrine Rudolf Virchow, the great master of the study of disease, and
he it was who by placing the study of disease upon the cellular basis,
by tracing diseased conditions to particular cells, laid the rational foun-
dation of one branch of modern medicine. The investigation of the

236 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

structure and function of cells is to-day regarded as the basis of research
in medicine as well as in biology. Yet all of it is traceable to the dis-
section of an ant beneath a crude microscope ! Surely nothing would
have seemed less likely to have had practical bearings.

Such studies have given also the basis for embryology, the analysis
of the development of the individual. Perhaps the greatest marvel of
nature is the growth and change of the individual, a process that is
ever before us, yet considered by . few. From a microscopic egg cell
that shows but few differences in its various parts, grows up the adult
body with its manifold organs; hairs and muscles, bones and lungs,
these are not present as such in the egg cell, yet they gradually arise
out of it and in the order of their use. The problem is : is such devel-
opment regulated by energies of the egg cell, or by the operation of
new stimuli and energies as the development proceeds? The marvel
is the astounding precision of the process in spite of its complexity.
When you eat your morning egg glance at the yellow yolk ball and note
at one point of its surface a small white disc; that is the egg cell
proper, all the rest is simply food for it. Now try to think out how
that little disc produces the complex fowl, and you will agree that the
problem is a much harder one than the fluctuations of stocks in your
morning paper. This problem has also a close bearing on medicine, as
William Harvey pointed out some three centuries ago and more, for
the development of the human body is as important to the physician
as its anatomy, because the anatomy is but one view of the individual,
while the development represents the whole. To understand our own
bodies we must know how they are formed, and to understand disease
it must be traced to its origin. The changes from the egg cell to the
adult demonstrate that the longer a part develops, the more precise
and fixed it becomes, so that finally each particular part comes to have
one definite structure, position and use. Malignant growths, then,
probably have their causes most frequently early in development, due
to misplacement of cells, temporary arrest of growth, undue rapid mul-
tiplication of cells, and other abnormalities. But this is not the place
to attempt to classify diseases on an embryological basis, such as has
been done by Minot. We need note here only that medicine is begin-
ning to tread in the path made by biology, in recogniziug that human
disease as well as human anatomy must rest on the foundation of
development.

Then, to understand our own bodies we have to explain them in
terms of the structure of other animals, and many of our parts would
be meaningless to us but for a knowledge of comparative anatomy.
Our cankered vermiform appendix is represented in some animals by
a large and serviceable attachment of the digestive tract, which explains
it as a degenerate organ and therefore necessarily variable. Deep

THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 237

between the hemispheres of the brain is a little sac about the size of
a pea, the pineal gland, and comparison shows that this was once a
third eye. Sometimes an opening persists on the side of the neck
below the jaw; in such a case one of the embryonic neck clefts has
remained open, and this in turn has relations to the gill slits of a fish.
All the ground plan of our bodies, the muscle cylinder within the skin,
next the bony scaffolding, innermost the peritoneal sack around the
viscera, all such relations would remain a mystery did we study only
the human body. But in the light of comparative anatomy and embry-
ology we recognize them as necessary parts of our heritage. Medicine
must stand upon a thorough knowledge of the structure and processes
of the human body, and before it can treat disorders it must under-
stand states of health and their origin. Comparative anatomists and
embryologists, the great men Harvey, Wolff, von Baer, Cuvier, Agassiz,
Huxlejr, Cope and Gegenbaur, such men have not only broadened the
field of human thought, but have also furnished the understanding of
the human organism. They were all pure scientists, they did not have
in mind the care and cure of the human body. Yet we might say
they accomplished more for a rational medicine than all the physicians
before them. How unlikely the prophecy seemed that any direct advan-
tage would come to mankind from the researches of Harvey, Wolff and
von Baer on the development of the chick, from those of Cuvier and
Agassiz on fossils, or from those of Huxley, Cope and Gegenbaur on
comparative anatomy. As the result of this change of thought we now
see most medical schools prescribing biological courses, and choosing
their professors of anatomy largely from the ranks of embryologists.

It is hardly necessary to state that it was Louis Pasteur who laid
the foundation for the study of disease-producing organisms; indeed,
he may be said to have done more for the human race, more to prevent
physical misery, than any other man of the nineteenth century. He
had in mind, first of all, the cure, but he realized that to accomplish
this the mode of transmission of the disease must be understood.
There have followed him a long line of investigators of bacterial dis-
eases, and among them the purely scientific have done quite as much
as the purely practical. In Eussia there was a celebrated embryologist,
Elias Metchnikoff, who worked out the life histories of a variety of
animals, and was thereby led to a consideration of the part that the
white blood cells play in the development. This brought him to the
view that such cells are the guardian policemen of the body, that seek
out and destroy the bacteria; and this to the further idea, that health
is to be maintained and infection prevented by keeping the white blood
cells in proper numbers and activity. Metchnikoff succeeded Pasteur
at Paris, and though his theory of phagocytosis is far from all-sufficient,
it has nevertheless strongly stimulated the study of bacteriology. His

238 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

practical ideas grew out of his theoretical investigations of insects and
worms.

Just at the present time the center of interest in medicine is the
study of those infectious diseases produced not by bacteria, but by other
one-celled germs, the animal protozoa. Among them are the blood
parasites that produce malaria, yellow fever, syphilis and the terrible
sleeping sickness of Africa, as well as the intestinal parasites of bloody
dysentery ; another one of them produces the Texas fever of cattle. Many
investigators have contributed to our knowledge of these diseases since
the time when Laveran discovered the germ of malaria, and prominent
among them are the names of Grassi and Schaudinn. Grassi is pro-
fessor of zoology at Borne, well known for his researches on the ancestry
of insects, on the social communities of tbe white ants and on compara-
tive anatomy; these researches on unpractical subjects furnished him
with the method for attacking the malarial germ, and for making the
marshes around Eome nearly free from that disease. Schaudinn
worked at Berlin on the life histories of salt-water protozoa, discovering
much of broad theoretical importance, indeed with much greater success
than the long line of naturalists before him. He was no physician, he
was a biologist, yet he ultimately attained one of the most desired
medical chairs in Germany. His genius, and in a measure he is to
be compared with Pasteur, lay in his success in unraveling complex
life histories ; he learned the method in studying the free-living forms,
and therefore was enabled to work out the life histories of several that
endanger the human body. He never had any direct interest in prac-
tical medicine, yet what help his work has brought to medicine ! What
he did in this direction, the zoologists Leuckart and Leidy did in
another by their discoveries on the parasitic worms of man, and on the
mode of infection; they all had little thought of practical application.
Such biologists have taught pathologists that in the cure of any infec-
tious diseases the first thing to be determined is the life history of the
parasite, and this subject is a biological one.

Besides seeking the prevention of disease man has to meet the nat-
ural struggle for existence in another way, by securing food, and this
means the nurture of his flocks and crops. Here again pure science
has proved a valuable pioneer. Naturalists have long since recognized
the close dependence of species upon each other, that what affects one
comes in the long run to affect all. This is a dependence based upon
the struggle for food. Bemove one element, as one species, and a more
or less general profound disturbance follows. Mankind is in no way
exempt from this law. Decimate or extirpate a particular kind of
insect-eating bird, and the insects that formed its diet will increase in
numbers. Man will feel the disturbance should such insects happen to
affect vegetation that is of human use. Bemove the timber from moun-

THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 239

tain lands, and the available water will decrease, because the timber
helps to hold the water supply and to prevent floods. In any way
change the face of nature, as man by his habits must needs to do con-
tinually, and more or less serious results must follow. As an instance
we may consider the cotton boll weevil, a subject that is a remarkably
earnest one in Texas. This insect originated in Central America and
has spread northward; several years ago the natural barriers to its
spread were broken down and consequently it has extended its feeding
area. When it first appeared in Texas all sorts of rough remedies were
applied, but in vain; then the help of the National Department of
Entomology of the Bureau of Agriculture was called in. They re-
sponded by sending down experts: not men trained in boll-weevil
methods, for these had to be learned, but men with a good knowl-
edge of general entomology, ready to attack the matter as they
would any scientific problem. First they proceeded to determine the
life history, egg-laying habits, duration of the different developmental
stages, number of broods, overwintering; then, knowing these facts,
they could decide at what stage the injury may be most successfully
fought. The method is of the first importance and this was given by
pure science, and in a way the method of meeting the boll weevil is not
unlike the method of fighting a parasite of the human body. The next
step was to ascertain the natural animal and plant enemies of the pest,
and to try to increase these enemies. Thus the field mice in Eussia
have been reduced by infecting them with pathogenic bacteria, and the
" green-bugs " of wheat by increasing the number of lady beetles.
These are the general methods of meeting any such practical questions.
Farmers may laugh at naturalists, but they are wholly dependent upon
them when such emergencies arise. Most of us are likely to smile at
the man who collects and describes insects, counting the number of
joints in the antennas of a bug, of hairs upon the forehead of a bee,
or the arrangement of the veins upon the wing of a moth. Most
people would hold that such a being is wasting his time in a foolish
hobby. But I wish to drive the fact very firmly home, that the collecting
and naming of animals and plants, occupations that even many biolo-
gists pity, are really fundamental for biology and therefore for the
sciences that rest upon biology. For the study of animals and plants
had reached a standstill, a stagnation, for want of a proper concise
method of naming the numerous species that were being made known,
until the great Swede Linnaeus, in the middle of the eighteenth century,
by originating the modern method of naming plants and animals, indi-
rectly made possible advance in agriculture as well as in biology. The
more our knowledge advances the greater grows the need of accurate
determinations of species. Without systematic describers of species
agriculture would be a hopeless matter. Thanks to the labors of gen-

24o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

erations of pure scientists, working for the most part in obscurity,
most of the insects in each civilized district have been described and
named, and much has been made known concerning their habits.
This knowledge is about as important a tool to the husbandman as is
his plough.

In passing it need only be mentioned that the agitation for the pro-
tection of native birds, a movement that the farmers are at last begin-
ning to support, originated not with agriculturists, but with scientific
ornithologists. The farmer, left to his own prejudices, would kill all
birds.

In another way pure science has aided agriculture, in improving
varieties. The chief method in use is selection, planting each new gen-
eration from the seeds or cuttings of the best plants of the previous one ;
the most fit are selected and propagated. This method has been in
use for more than a century, but it is only within the past fifty years
that it has entered into general systematic employ. The man whose
labors brought this method into dominance was Charles Darwin, who
proved how important a factor selection is in the perpetuation and
guidance of the changes of living beings. Now Darwin was not called
a practical man; he was first an insect collector and geologist, then a
traveler, lastly a most conscientious experimenter with an eye single
to explaining. He discovered a natural factor in evolution, and illus-
trated it so fully on both wild and cultivated species that the world
has accepted its truth. Before him men had applied selection rather
unwittingly, on the general assumption that " blood will tell." After
him they saw clearly into the workings of the principle, and now ex-
periment with a fixed method. It is Darwin's method that the De-
partment of Agriculture is trying to teach the farmers.

Then much work has been done to secure improvement by the cross-
breeding or hybridizing of different varieties. It was Darwin again
who was the first broadly scientific investigator of such inheritance.
Take two plants or two animals which differ in one or more qualities
and cross them, then it is to be expected that the hybrids will differ
from the parents, and that a new strain or breed may be obtained that
will prove more favorable for our particular purposes. Much of this
kind of experimentation, perhaps the greater part, has been done so far
by practical animal breeders and gardeners, and it was from such
records that Darwin obtained much of his information. No one, for
instance, has carried it out more extensively than Burbank, and he
has had in mind marketable returns. Yet the theoretical study of
hybridizing is coming to aid the other, and in time may come to direct
it. Different kinds of inheritance are now distinguished, as blended
inheritance, when the hybrid is intermediate between the two parents;
mosaic, when it has some of the characters of the one and some of the

PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 241

other; alternate, when some of the hybrids are like one parent and
some like the other; and the so-called unisexual inheritance, when all
the hybrids tend to resemble one particular parent. Entirely new and
unexpected fields of experimentation have been brought out by Mendel's
study of alternate, and De Vries's examination of unisexual inherit-
ance. This theoretical work also teaches that in practise attention
should be given not so much to the whole individual as to the particular
quality desired. The remarkable work of De Vries, the most impor-
tant in evolution since the time of Darwin, would tend to show that
though new forms may be produced by crossing, such crosses are usually
not permanent, but tend to revert. De Vries's particular contention is
that stable new forms, those that breed true, are not produced gradually
by selection or otherwise, but arise suddenly and only in particular muta-
tion periods. This introduces an entirely new attitude in the matters
of selection and cross-breeding, and there can be no doubt that tbe
scientific decision of these great problems will come to exert a great
influence upon the progress of agriculture. It is the work of theorists
that is here directing, stimulating and explaining, and it is changing
the present haphazard experimentation, with its great loss of time and
money, into accurate control.

If farmers would only do a little experimenting on their own
account, each laying aside a small piece of ground for making tests,
they would learn more of practical advantage than by following, year
in and year out, the methods handed down by their forefathers. They
would be doing a little scientific explanation, and though this might
not immediately give them an additional bale of cotton, in time it
would give them much more than that and would fill them with greater
interest for their daily labors. The farmers are the backbone of the
nation, and that spine must not get the rheumatism. A man must
look before he leap, and science does the looking. As Franklin put
it : " The eye of a master will do more work than both his hands."
Indeed, the farmer comes into close touch with biological problems
because his business is directly with plants and animals, and though
he does not know it he is really a biologist in the rough. When the
competition for market becomes keener, and it continues to do so as
men become more trained, only he will be able to succeed who is armed
with a working theory and by means of it aims at better results. In
farming it is not the land so much as the man. To get at a new plan
so as to use his time and brawn to the best advantage, the farmer must
begin to explain and must use the explanations of science. A hen
can not grow into a rooster, but it can be made to lay two eggs a day.
The question of the qualities and possibilities of living beings is the
subject-matter of biology, and the more we understand them the more
we can use them. But we must remember that we can apply only when

VOL. LXXIII. — 16.

242 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

close study has suggested a method, and for that preliminary study to
be effective it must not be hampered by the thought of immediate prac-
tical returns. Had Darwin in mind the improvement of domestic races
of pigeons and poultry instead of the explanation of their origin, he
would have contributed much less than he did to be put to practical
use. Therefore the farmer should cease to look upon biology as an
expense and luxury meant to entertain rich men's sons; he should
recognize that any laboratory that is helping tc analyze the energies
of life is contributing something, indirect but none the less important,
to further our usage of plants and animals.

These views are by no means generally held ; they have to be taught.
To transmit the new ideas of each generation is the business of teachers,
and we may now discuss what kind of men make the best kind of
teachers. To this I would answer that, other things being equal, the
investigator makes the best teacher. For the teacher's duty is not so
much to inform as to interest, and the greater interest he has in his
own subject the greater influence he will be likely to have over his
pupils. Clearly, then, the investigator should teach well because he
has the enthusiasm to undertake the difficult task of advancing his
subject. Further than this, he can best treat his subject because he
has won knowledge for himself as well as through others, he most fully
realize the difficulties and problems, and he should be the least likely
to pin his faith to unfounded theories. On the other hand, that teacher
can not have great influence who has learned simply from his school
and college courses and from text-books, and who has not tried to
penetrate into the fascinating field that lies beyond. Louis Agassiz
was the greatest teacher of natural science that this country has yet
enjoyed, and he was through and through an investigator; take the
example of any man whose students have been led to follow his pro-
fession, and you will find he was an original thinker. One man may
be a very storehouse of detailed information, yet be unable to teach,
for too much knowledge is an impediment to clear thought. Another
may be ignorant of many things, which is really a desirable quality,
and because of his creative spirit of research be an inspiring teacher.
The teacher's business is not to drill his students so that they soak in
facts like so many sponges ; but he should give them the wish to blossom
and break into fruit of their own. Were encyclopedic knowledge the
ideal, one generation would receive the knowledge of the preceding,
no more, and the centuries when such conditions prevailed were well
termed the dark ages. The teacher should create as well as transmit,
for creation strengthens his teaching quality. Thus it happens that in
the long run it is pure science that is forwarding every movement in
general education. We find a parallel in the case of musicians : there
are many with a good technique, but very few with the power to com-

PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 243

pose; the former are copyists and the latter creators. 'Now, what could
the technicians do without the composers? Appliers are dependent
upon fertile creators in general education as in music and other mat-
ters. It is pure science by which a man can advance his subject a little
and arouse his students to do the same.

It may seem a sweeping statement, but I am inclined to believe that
any advance in pure science helps to better our race, whether all of it
can be practically applied or not. For so many practical uses have
been made from what seemed unjjromising theories, that we may confi-
dently expect still more applications in the future. That is one side
of the subject. The other and the more important is the growth of
the method of science, to never rest content, but to seek to explain
more and more. This means a continuous expansion of the field of
thought and will prevent crystallization and stagnation. Just because
human progress is to such great extent mental, creative thought should
be held an important ideal, and this is the essence of science. Thus
the mere pursuit of science, whether it be of direct material advantage
or not, is by no means worthless to us, for it is a powerful factor in the
progress of the human mind. I do not believe in the argument of
the schoolmen, that a subject is to be studied for the mental training;
life is too short for duties of that kind; what we need is the introduc-
tion of more subjects that enlarge our interests, and teach that there
is a great deal under the sun that is new and inspiring. My particular
argument may seem to many rather specious, yet I think that just in
this point is pure science of great value. Men ask for quick, tangible
results, for early harvesting of the crops. But that which is easiest
and quickest need not be best. What influence each of us most deeply
in our personal lives are intangible matters, feelings and desires that
are hard to define and that are set apart from the daily occupation.
Just so it is with our progress from generation to generation; it is the
clarifying and ennobling thought rather than the dollar that gives the
most enduring satisfaction whether we are ready to admit it or not.
And if you ask proof for this statement, you may find it in any national
biography where you discover the names of thinkers, not those of mere
money-getters.

Our advance in civilization consists to large extent in the perfecting
of the social state, and herein lies the important task of sociology.
Numerous have been the proposals for bettering social conditions, and
as great the clash of view, for such questions press on all of us. All
admit the imperfection and injustice of present conditions, yet there
is no general remedy in promise. The most we seem able to do is to
mitigate here and there a few of the most urgent evils. It would seem
that economists have dealt with only parts of the problem; they have
spent much time in definitions, but so far have missed giving a scientific

244 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

foundation to the whole subject. For in their examinations of human
communities and governments they have limited themselves to man,
and to large extent to man within the periods of graven and written
history. The chief criticism that biology presses on sociology is that
sociology has not yet taken the broad comparative and genetic method.
The physician has learned that to understand the human body he must
constantly make comparisons with the lower animals ; indeed, the prog-
ress of medicine, as we have seen, is due to such a method. The psy-
chologist is also recognizing that to explain human mental states he
must go back of man; must trace mind from its beginnings, for biolo-
gists have shown that even the simplest one-celled animals exhibit
memory, attention, volition as expressed by choice, and still other
mental states. But so far the sociologist appears to have missed this
method and has also failed to go back to the beginnings of the social
state. Would you say that it seems ridiculous to expect complex social
life among the lower animals ? Biology has made known animal com-
munities that in all respects are more fitted to their conditions of life
and more harmonious than ever was human society. Nearly all con-
ceivable social states are exhibited by animals. For there are associa-
tions of entirely different species of animals, even of animals with
plants, the condition known as symbiosis, where each is necessary to
the life of the other; this is a life partnership. There are quite oppo-
site kinds of social conditions, parasitism, where the one gets most of
the benefit and the other most of the injury; this animal parasite has
its resemblance to the human plutocrat. Again, there are associations
of individuals of the same species, societies that have developed out of
the maternal instinct, the instinct of the mother to care for her young ;
the social state has arisen in such cases by the mother remaining with
her young until the latter are full grown. The beginning of the family
we find in the mother fish who guards the young against the father, or
the spider who carries her young upon her back ; endless are the curious
instances of such single families. Out of these have arisen higher
social states by the young remaining together after maturing, held
together by the control of the mother. In the animals this is generally
a matriarchate, or at least a feminine rule, for among the lower animals
it is the males that have no suffrage. Thus has grown up that won-
derful socialism of the honey bee, admired by men since the beginning
of history. Here the queen mother is the single reproductive indi-
vidual, wherefore she is guarded and fed; but save for her annual out-
burst, a pettishness allowed to royalty, when she leads a swarm out of
the hive, she is virtually a prisoner and the government is carried out
by the workers, who regulate the life of their queen more precisely than
we are able to do by any written constitution, while at the same time
they gather all the food, pasteurize and store it, nurse the young, secrete

PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 245

the wax and build of it the geometrical comb, even ventilate the hive.
No wonder that men sit for hours in their gardens contemplating such
organized unity. The drones, they represent a plutocracy, they have
but one mission and when that is accomplished the workers kill them.
Different wild bees and wasps exhibit various stages leading up to this
complex state. Yet still more wonderful governments are known
among the ants, with their different castes of workers, each with its
particular set of occupations, with their more complex nests with gran-
aries, dining-chambers and bed-rooms ; with their habits of harvesting,
of keeping milch cattle and providing stables for them, of cleansing
the young, of growing and tending mushroom beds, true vegetable
gardens beneath the earth, with even the habits of keeping slaves and
guests. Ants also have a language by which they communicate their
ideas to each other, not by articulate words, but by touch and smell;
and certain solitary wasps are known that make use of a stone as a
tool, a faculty generally supposed to be limited to mankind.

Now, such cases have been discovered by biologists, and biologists
are analyzing their evolution. Pure science has made them known for
the pleasure of the work and of the explanation. Yet it is not idle
to suppose that such study may yet have its bearings on human social
problems. Three practical men have turned with profit to the study
of the social life of insects: McCook, the American preacher; Lubbock,
the English parliamentarian, and Maeterlinck, the Belgian novelist.
Eobert Bruce got inspiration from a spider, and engineers have studied
with profit the architectural skill of insects and spiders, particularly
with regard to bridge making. The study of bees offers much more
than the mere output of commercial honey. These lower animals show
the real natural state of society, and make ridiculous Bousseau's wild
imaginings. They have their trades, their agriculture and animal
breeding, their guests and slaves, even their tools; they construct an
eminently appropriate architecture with no waste of material, they
store food and keep their cities clean and aseptic; some show even the
beginnings of barter and exchange. Most of these occupations we
generally suppose to be limited to ourselves, for we are nothing if not
egotistic. The wonder of it is the perfect order and harmony, the
excellence of the state. Willoughby was undoubtedly wrong in arguing
that the state exists only in the case of man. Now, can sociology afford
to disregard such data? Can the conflicting factors of human society
be explained only by the study of man? Surely we ought to at least
wrest from the insects their secret of perfect harmony. Many of man's
occupations extend far back into nature, therefore to understand them
we must trace them to the community life of lower animals, even back
of this to the origin of the factor that made the family, the maternal
instinct. Sociology has applied some of the teachings of pure science,

246 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

such as the operation of selection and the struggle for existence. But
if it is to have a scientific foundation it must base itself on the com-
parative study of community life.

I do not mean that the study of an ant family will give us any
better system of taxation. But I do mean that the careful study of
lower social states will lay a firmer basis to the general subject of
sociology, and thus come to better human conditions. Then also our
treatment of criminals must to large extent rest upon biology, for the
main practical question involved is whether criminal traits and tenden-
cies are inherited or whether they are learned. The whole subject of
heredity is a biological one, and the outsiders who have ventured into
this field have given no solutions. How we shall treat criminals and
their children will depend upon the outcome of the theoretical investi-
gation of heredity.

Much more might be said concerning the practical value of pure
science, but I will mention only one more point, and that right briefly.
It is ethical and is perhaps the most important of all. Science seeks
the truth, and respects no opinion that does not represent the truth.
Science is not so much materialistic as realistic, and it has to do only
with what may be determined by experiment and observation. Like
the every-day practical man, the scientist holds that those things that
seem outside of himself are really outside, and not existent simply
in his own mind; and he is striving to explain the relation of those
things to each other and to himself. While confining himself to such
subjects he does not, in fact, has no right to, imply that there are not
other fields of thought. But with regard to the world of things, he
claims the right to decide what is real and what is unreal. That man
is valued the most in science who sees the truth most clearly, and states
it most simply. Right or wrong in science is then a measure of the
truth. The great outcome of scientific thought is the unity of all
nature, and the great aim in view is the truth. Thoughts like these
must come to profoundly modify systems of ethics. Science has a
difficult road to travel, for it keeps pushing steadily onward into dark
places. In the nature of the case it must make many mistakes, but it
keeps the right ideal. The idea of the truth and the ways of reaching
it may continue to change as they have in the past, but humanity can
not go far wrong so long as it earnestly seeks the truth.

These matters are worth thinking about when there is so much
discussion about the value of higher education. We hear protests
against the cost of maintaining universities, and there are some people
who honestly suppose that the higher seats of learning should be self-
supporting. Indeed there was one college started in the east by a
millionaire, and he was greatly surprised to find that he was to get no
dividends. Education is never satisfied; it uses greedily all available

PRACTICAL VALUE OF PURE SCIENCE 247

funds, then calls for more. If an institution does not receive an
increasing amount each year, it is not only standing still, but it is also
going backward, for it gets more and more behind the times. Prac-
tical men are quite right in inquiring whether there is going to be
some return to them out of this expenditure, and we have to answer
them truthfully. Universities and museums and libraries, the centers
of scientific activity, have enormous mouths that are always agape, like
overgrown nestling birds. You put money into them, but you do not
get money back, at least not directly. This point is very certain and
there is no use trying to hide it. But what you do get back are ideas,
new ideas. Much of the work represented by such institutions is scien-
tific, and if you endow them you help to increase the ideas that make
possible practical ends. You will notice that I have not been arguing
for the prosecution of applied science, more properly, the applications
of science, for the value of this is apparent to all. I have been speak-
ing for the pursuit of pure science, because it is the necessary fore-
runner to any new practical application. This is the fact I wish to
drive home because it is seldom understood. Scientists themselves
often do not realize it, but think that pure science should be studied,
even if it can never be made to touch the needs of human life. Men
who are not scientists are apt to shrug their shoulders and to say that
science may be interesting to some, but that they can not see the use of
it and consequently can not see the value of education in pure science.
So long as this remains the point of view, higher education and research
must have the old hard road to travel. But if we will open our eyes
to the fact that even pure science is really of useful value, and its his-
tory is proof of this, then the standing objection to higher education
will be removed.

248 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE PHYSIQUE OF SCHOLAES, ATHLETES AND THE

AVERAGE STUDENT

By Professor D. A. SARGENT

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

IN the year 1893 Dr. W. T. Porter, now professor of comparative
physiology in the Harvard Medical School, examined some 30,000
children who were attending the public schools of St. Louis, Mo. He
found that among pupils of the same age, ranging from 6 to 18 years,
the average height and weight of those who were in the higher grades
were greater than that of those who were in the lower grades. In
other words he found that those pupils who were mentally the most
precocious were also physically the most precocious. This announce-
ment called forth considerable criticism at the time, and many teachers,
recalling a number of exceptionally bright pupils who were small in
stature for their age, doubted the truth of the statement. It is of
great scientific interest, therefore, to note that Porter's conclusions have
since been confirmed by observations made by Hastings in Omaha,
Nebr., by Byer in Cambridge, Christopher in Chicago, Roberts in
London, Burgerstein in Vienna and by Leharzig in St. Petersburg. In
the face of such a body of concurrent statistics from different parts of
this country and Europe, no one can doubt for a moment the natural
relationship between a vigorous brain and a vigorous body. Moreover
this intimate relationship between body and mind does not appear to be
limited to growing youth as shown by the statistics to which I have
just referred, but it is true of all classes of individuals when taken
collectively. For instance the fellows of the Royal Society of Eng-
land and the English professional class, who may be said to represent
the greatest brain power of the British Empire, average respectively 5
feet 9% inches and 5 feet 9*4 inches in height and 160 pounds in
weight ; while lunatics, criminals, idiots and imbeciles who may be said
to represent the other end of the intellectual scale, if they are not
classed as mentally defective, average in height from 5 feet 7 inches to
5 feet 4.87 inches, and average in weight from 147 pounds to 123
pounds. Here is a difference of 4.88 inches in average height and 37
pounds in average weight between the highest and lowest classes of
English society as represented by members of the Royal Society and
idiots and imbeciles. Compared with the general population, lunatics
according to Roberts show a deficiency of stature of 1.96 inches and

THE PHYSIQUE OF SCHOLARS

249

of weight 10.3 pounds; and criminals of 2.06 inches and 17.8 pounds,
indicating a deficiency of physical as well as mental stamina in both
these unfortunate classes of society.

The physical measurements of the English and American people
are so nearly identical, as shown by comparisons which I made with
Mr. Galton's measurements some years ago, that conditions that affect
one class of persons in England may be said to affect in a similar way
the same class of persons in this country. We have already seen that
growing youth in different parts of this country and Europe develop
mentally as they develop physically, and that the men who have at-
tained the highest degree of intellectual eminence as a class, have in-
variably had a good physique as shown by their superior height and
weight, to back up their superior intellectual vigor. In view of these
indisputable facts we should expect to find that the same observations
would hold true among college students, who may be said to represent
the intermediate class on the way from growing youth to men of intel-
lectual eminence and distinction. According to our physiological law
we should expect to find that the students as a class who ranked the
highest in scholarship would also have the best physiques, as shown
by their superior height and weight. In order to ascertain if this
inference be true, I have had the following table compiled from my
statistics at Harvard University, from which some very interesting and
instructive conclusions may be drawn.

0.
3

o
u

o

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

No.

of

Observ.

Groups on which Observations were Made

240
295
505
530
300

77
300
232

84
500000
1000
106
109
431
178

University Crew from 1880 to 1900
University Football from 1880 to 1900
Lawrence Scientific School from 1902 to 1906
Academic Department from 1904 to 1906
First Fifty Strong Men from 1893 to 1900
Honor Scholarship Men, Group L, 1899 to 1906
Honor Scholarship Men, Groups I. & II., '99 to '06
Honor Scholarship Men, Group II., 1899 to 1906
Stipend Scholarship Men, Group III., '99 to '06
Average American in 1860 (Army Standard)
University Students in 1880
Stipend Scholarship Men, Group I., 1899 to 1906
Stipend Scholarship Men in early eighties
Stipend Scholarship Men, Groups I., II., III.
Stipend Scholarship Men, Group II., '99 to '06

Height

Cm. In.

177.5 69
176.569
174.5 68
174.568

Weight

K'l.

174
174
173.5 68
173 |68
172.567

Lbs.

172
172
172
171.5 67
171.5 67
170.5 67

.9 69
.5171.5
.7165
.7 63.5
.5 68.5
.561
.3 61
.161
.9 61
.7 61
.7 61.3
.7 59
.5 60
.5 59.5
159

152.1

157.6

143.3

140

151

134.5

135.6

135.6

135.6

136.05

135.2

130.1

132.3

131.2

130.1

.q

to

625
652
680
650
960
550
550
560
560

490
530
420
540
530

This table consists of the medium measurements of 15 different
groups of men, all except Group 10 being composed of students of
Harvard University ranging in age from 18 to 26 years. These groups
are arranged according to superiority in height and weight. Group
No. 1 consists of 240 university crew men, the number whose measure-
ments have been taken since 1880 to 1906. The medium height is seen
to be 69.9 inches and the medium weight 152 pounds. Group 2 con-

250 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

sists of 295 university football men examined since 1880. The mean
height of this group is 69.5 inches, and the mean weight 157.6 pounds.
Both the crew and the football groups are composed of picked or
selected men, the former being chosen largely for superior height and
the latter for superior weight. It will be observed that the strength
of both of these groups being 625 and 652, respectively, is lower than
some of the groups that follow. The reason for this difference may be
explained by stating that prior to 1890 there was no required strength
test, and the great majority of the crew and football men in the
eighties fell below the present requirement for university athletes,
which is 700 points. Group 3 is composed of 505 students who entered
the Lawrence Scientific School during the years 1902-6. The height
is 68.7 inches, the weight 143.3 pounds, and the strength 680 points.
Group 4 is composed of 530 students who entered the academic depart-
ment during the years 1904-6. The height is 68.7 inches, the same as
that of the Scientific School men, but the weight is 140 pounds, or 3.3
pounds less, while the strength is 650, or 30 points less than the Scien-
tific School men. These two groups, comprising some 1,035 under-
graduates, are made up of all classes — of athletes, scholarship men,
semi-invalids and average students — as they come to the university
from the preparatory schools. The Scientific School students are
heavier and stronger than the academic students, a fact frequently
referred to by the late Professor Shaler, showing his remarkable powers
of observation. The most significant facts in regard to these two
groups can only be comprehended when they are compared with Group
No. 11, comprising 1,000 students taken from the four classes and all
departments of the university in 1880. It will be observed that in
1880 the medium height of the university student was only 67.7 inches,
although the group contained many men who had been in college three
and four years. The medium weight of this group was 135.2 pounds
and the total strength 490 points. The average weight and height of
the Harvard student at this time was about the same as that given for
the American youth, ranging from 21 to 26 years of age, who entered
the army in 1860. At the present time the average student is an inch
taller, and from 4 to 8 pounds heavier than the average student of
1880, while his strength has increased from 490 to 650 and 680, a
gain of 140 and 190 points. In 1880 only 50 per cent, of the Harvard
students would have surpassed the height and weight of the army
average. To-day over 65 per cent, would pass that standard. This is
a most remarkable uplift in growth and development for any consider-
able body of men in any country or community to have attained in
25 years. My only hesitation in accepting this fact as conclusive is
the lingering doubt as to what effect the 30 or 40 per cent, of students
who are never weighed or measured at the gymnasium might have
upon the medium height and weight. The 1,035 men examined from

THE PHYSIQUE OF SCHOLARS 251

the Academic Department and Scientific School, as I have stated, com-
prised all classes, including the short as well as the tall and the weak
as well as the strong, and may, therefore, be regarded as fairly repre-
sentative of the physique of the college.

It may surprise many to learn that the strongest men in college
as a class are below the average student in stature. This is perfectly
consistent with established facts. Strength is more a matter of short-
ness and thickness of arms and legs than of great length of limbs,
which is likely to be the physical characteristic of speed, as shown by
runners and oarsmen, rather than strength and endurance. The
superior musculature of the strong man is indicated by his superior
weight. In this respect it is observed that he weighs from 7 to 10
pounds more than the average student, while he surpasses this man in
strength by some 300 points.

Having ascertained the medium height and weight of what we have
termed the average student, let us turn our attention to the same
measurements of scholarship men. It is interesting and instructive
to observe that the scholarship men when taken in large groups tend
to verify the conclusions reached by Drs. Porter, Byer, Christopher,
Eoberts, Leharzig and others as to the correlation of a superior mind
with a superior body. This is shown rather strikingly by the order
in which the scholarship men group themselves according to height,
the highest scholars in Group I. being tallest, those in Group II. being
nearly one half inch shorter. The scholarships in Group III. are not
awarded according to college rank, but for some other special consid-
eration. Although the order among the scholarship men themselves
remains the same, that is, the highest scholars as represented by Group
I. being the tallest, Group II. over one half inch shorter, etc., the great
discrepancy between the height of the honor scholarship men, the
stipend scholarship men, and the average student seems at once in-
consistent with our premises. Although the honor scholarship men
have risen nearly three quarters of an inch in height above the average
university student of 1880, the average stipend scholarship men as
shown in Group 14 (I., II. and III.) are about one quarter of an inch
shorter. There is a difference of 1.2 inch between the height of the
average student of to-day and the average stipend scholarship men,
and a difference of three quarters of an inch between the average
stipend scholarship men and the average honor scholarship men. The
discrepancy between the average weight of the different groups is not
so regular or well marked as that of the height, although it will be
observed that there is a difference of 4.4 pounds between the average
student and the honor scholarship men and a difference of 8.8 between
the average student and the stipend scholarship men.

The comparison of strength between the average student and the
scholarship men is rather more favorable to the latter. Although

2 52 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

there is some 100 points difference in the tests of Groups 3, 4, and
7 and 14, all the groups of scholarship men have surpassed the strength
test of the average university student of 1880. The height and weight
of the student within normal limits may be said to represent his poten-
tial strength and vital capacity. The actual test of strength gauges
his real functional power — or would so gauge it if each student tried
to do the best he could. While the required physical test for athletes
and scholarship men has undoubtedly stimulated many students to
make greater physical efforts in preparation for the examination, it
has made many of them simply content in doing just about enough to
pass the minimum requirement. This in a measure accounts for the
more uniform tests of the scholarship men, and the little difference
between Groups I., II. and III. The average student, as shown in
Groups 3 and 4 is more likely to try to make a good strength test than
the scholarship men, as he is desirous of passing the minimal require-
ment for the athletic teams, in order to be eligible to one or more of
these organizations. Although the average height and weight of all
the scholarship men are below the average student of to-day, the average
of the honor scholarship men is considerably above the average of the
university students of 1880 — while the average of the stipend scholar-
ship men of the present time is not only below the average students of
that year in point of weight, but is below the average of the stipend
men of the early eighties. Although the number of men in Groups 6
and 9 is rather small to base definite conclusions upon, the numbers
in the other groups are large enough to give conclusive evidence of
the trend of physical development in the three great classes of Har-
vard students, namely, the scholars, athletes and the average students.
The discrepancy in the physical measurements of the several groups of
scholarship men and the average students raises questions which are in
my opinion worthy of grave consideration. The physical superiority
of Group I. over Group II. in point of height among both the honor
and stipend class of scholarship men is perfectly consistent with ac-
knowledged physiological truths in regard to mental and physical
development. But the dominating factors that determine stature and
weight are age, race and nurture. The medium or average age of
Group I. of stipend scholarship men is 19 years, of Group II. 20 years,
of Group III. 19 years and 3 months, and the Lawrence Scientific
School Scholarship Group is 22 years. The average age of Groups
I. and II. of the honor scholarship men is 18 years and 6 months,
respectively. Here it will be noted that the honor scholarship men,
though the youngest are the tallest, heaviest and strongest. Does the
advanced age of the stipend men indicate inferior natural ability or
retardation in mental and physical development due to preoccupation
with other work? In either case the question also arises whether the

THE PHYSIQUE OF SCHOLARS 253

stipend man's scholarship standing is not due to industry and patient
application rather than to superior organic vigor.

In regard to race it is interesting to note that 77 per cent, of
Group I. and 75 per cent, of Group II. of honor scholarship men were
Americans, while only 62 and 71.5 per cent., respectively, of Groups
I. and II. of stipend scholarship men were Americans. The Hebrew
race had the next largest per cent., being 15.5 and 11 per cent, in the
I. and II. honor scholarship class and 11.3 and 7.75 per cent., respect-
ively, in the stipend scholarship class. But the English and Polish
Hebrews, from whom the American Hebrews have largely descended,
average only 66.5 inches and 63.8 inches, respectively, in height. The
other races, all averaging below the Americans, except the English and
Scotch, are represented by a very small per cent, in any of the groups,
but the largest number of foreigners, from 30 to 40 per cent., is in
the stipend scholarship class. In a measure, this fact would help
account for the inferior stature of this class of students. The differ-
ences in height and weight, due to nurture in adults of the same age,
sex and race, averages as high as 3y2 inches in stature and 7 pounds
in weight. The honor scholarship men are presumably better nur-
tured than the stipend scholarship men, coming as they do from
wealthier families where they have been better housed, fed and clothed,
and better cared for generally. The difference between the average
of Group I. of honor men and Group II. of stipend men is 1.4 inches
in height and 4.4 pounds in weight. This extreme difference is prob-
ably partly due to race inheritance, and partly due to nurture, but
what may be termed the organic or physiological factor plays an equally
important part. It will be observed that there is little variation in
weight between the different groups of scholarship men, in the honor
men Group I. actually weighing over a pound less than Group II., and
the stipend men of Group I. only equal the weight of Group II.

It will also be noticed that there is a close correlation between the
weight and the strength in the different groups. This diminutive
weight upon the part of all scholarship men may be accounted for in
several ways. The most reasonable explanations, however, are lack of
sufficient physical exercise, and mental over-training. In order to
meet the demands of the present scholarship standard it is necessary
to hold oneself down to many hours of highly concentrated and long-
sustained mental effort. Under these circumstances the respiration
and circulation are slowed down, the digestion is more or less imperfect,
and the organic activity of all parts of the body except the brain is
sadly interfered with. The body for the time being is literally being
starved in order that the brain may be surfeited. If this intense
mental activity is followed by a moderate amount of physical exercise,
in which the large masses of muscle in the trunk and limbs are vigor-
ously used, no harm follows from hard study. In developing the mus-

254 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

cular system one not only adds to girth of trunk and limbs, and con-
sequently to weight as seen in the physical condition of the 300 strong
men in Group 5, but increases the functional power of heart, lungs,
stomach and viscera — and consequently favors the nutrition and re-
cuperation of the brain itself. If to intense or prolonged mental ap-
plication are added worry, anxiety, fear of failure, loss of sleep, or
great emotional strain — then mental work soon becomes exhausting.
Add to prolonged physical effort the same kind of mental and emo-
tional harrassments, and we soon have in the individual or athletic
team a temporary state of physical and mental impairment which is
familiarly attributed to " over-training." No one symptom is more
indicative of this approaching collapse than loss of weight, and on
the other hand no physical sign presages a return to bodily and mental
efficiency more unerringly than a return to normal weight. Normal
weight for the average student is about 2.05 pounds for every inch in
height, for the university crews 2.17 and for the football teams and
strong men 2.20. The army standard during the civil war was 2
pounds to the inch for the soldier of medium height.

The Harvard scholarship men range in weight from 1.87 in the
lowest group to 1.99 in the highest. These chronic conditions of
underweight on the part of the scholarship men are, in my opinion,
largely due to excessive mental activity, accompanied in many cases
by nervous anxiety and perpetual worry for fear that they will not
come up to the desired standard and fail to receive honors or lose their
scholarship stipend. Judicious physical exercise, out-of-door games
and recreations, mingled freely with innocent social amusements, all
tend to relieve this state of nervous tension and malnutrition, as many
a hard-worked student knows from experience. The physical superi-
ority of the honor scholarship men over the stipend scholarship men
may be largely attributed to the fact that they do devote more time
and attention to the care of their physique. When the stipend scholar-
ship men are asked why they do not give more attention to their health
and the upbuilding of their bodies, the almost invariable answer is :
" We have no time for it," or words to that effect. In many cases this
is literally true, as there are scholarship men at Harvard who have to
do a considerable amount of outside work in addition to their college
work in order to earn money enough to meet their expenses. But in
the great majority of cases the answer of " no time " means that these
men do not regard health and physical vigor of sufficient importance
to work for it; or if they do, they fear that while they are taking time
for improving their bodies, their nearest rivals are at the everlasting
grind that will give them possession of the much-coveted scholarships.
Some of the results are shown in the table to which we have referred.
Here is an anomalous condition.

According to our records the physique of athletes and the average

THE PHYSIQUE OF SCHOLARS 255

student during the past 25 years has greatly improved, while the
physique of all the scholarship men of to-day is not only below the
average student of the present time, but the physique of the stipend
scholarship men is actually below that of the average student of 1880,
and Group II. below the average of the stipend men in the early
eighties. As the records we have quoted give for the most part the
first-year measurements and tests of the students, they may be said to
reflect the conditions that have acted upon them at their homes and
preparatory schools rather than at the college. These formative influ-
ences, whatever they may have been, have affected the scholarship men
as well as the athletes, but in a different way. The great interest that
has been awakened during the past quarter century in health, hygiene,
sanitation and physical education has begun to make itself felt through-
out the country at large, and students are coming to the college now in
better physical condition than ever before. This improved physical
well-being has undoubtedly been greatly intensified by the time and
attention given to athletics in the preparatory schools. The public
interest awakened and the extensive advertising that athletes have
received through the press have fired a considerable portion of our
youth with an ambition to become large, strong and athletic. On the
other hand, the intense mental and nervous activity of the age, the
universal demand for a higher and broader intelligence, the great
rewards for professional knowledge and skill, the prestige and tra-
ditions of the institutions of learning, have all combined to stimulate
another set of our youth to great mental efforts. If athletics adver-
tise the college, as so many persons affirm, they will tend to draw to
its halls the young men who are fond of participating in athletic sports
or of witnessing the athletic performances of others. Young men of
a more studious frame of mind, who care little about athletics, would
be attracted by the reputation of the individual professors, the academic
standing of the institution, and the eminence of the positions held by
its graduates.

It is very evident that a process of selection has been going on in
the community during the past half century by which these two dis-
tinct types of young men, whom we may term scholars and athletes,
have been attracted to the colleges and universities. Is this process of
selection a natural one, or such a one as should exist in an institution
of learning? Both classes have ideals and aims which are essentially
different. Both classes are naturally antagonistic, and both classes
are pursuing the means of education and training as though they were
ends in themselves. The consequence is superior physiques with
mediocre mental ability according to the college rank-book in one class,
and inferior physiques with fine mental attainments in the other.
Moreover, this want of harmony or sense of proportion between mental
and physical efforts on the part of our students, which we all recognize,

2 56 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

is greatly intensified by that crying evil of the age, the spirit of com-
petition. Competition is to-day the arch enemy of all true culture,
mental as well as physical. To recount all of the evils that may be
attributed to this factor in education would prolong this article to an
unwarrantable length. Let me return, therefore, to my premises.

If there is any truth in statistics the world's work and greatest
achievements are to be attained by the men as a class who have the
best brains in the best bodies. A large part of the athletic class will
fail in the race of life for want of better trained minds, while an
equally large class of scholarship men will be eliminated from the
struggle for the want of more efficient bodies. What is the college
doing to even up the chances of these two classes in their preparation
for their life's work? She insists upon a required mental examina-
tion of all students, athletes included, upon entering college. More-
over, most colleges now require athletic students to attain a certain
grade in their mental pursuits before they can be permitted to contend
for honors in athletics. Would it not be altogether desirable for these
colleges to require all scholarship men to attain a certain standard in
their physical work before allowing them to compete for honors in
scholarship ? Such a plan would at least put the scholarly man on an
equal footing with the athlete and give him a chance to attain some-
thing of that mental force, physical vigor and sustained energy upon
which his success in life will so largely depend. Furthermore, inas-
much as the greatest amount of physical as well as mental improve-
ment of which the individual is capable must take place during the
formative period of his youth — should not the student come to college
prepared physically as well as mentally for the ordeal before him?
The moral effect of a physical requirement would be to throw the
responsibility for physical condition back upon the parent, the prepara-
tory schools and teachers, as well as upon the pupil himself. In my
opinion a large part of the community is already prepared to meet this
responsibility, as is indicated by the improved physical condition of
the average student when he enters college. We have already shown
that love of sports, games and physical exercise for themselves do not
appeal to the scholarship student. The thing necessary is academic
recognition of good health and physical vigor as an asset in education.
In taking this step the college would simply be making a practical
application of its own teaching. But in so doing it would not only
improve the physique of the scholarship man, and thus increase his
respect for physical training and athletics, but it would also increase
the respect of the mass of students for scholarship men and scholarly
attainments.

THE QUESTION OF ROOT EXCRETIONS 257

MODERN AND EAELY WOKK UPON THE QUESTION OF

EOOT EXCRETIONS

By HOWARD S. REED

BUREAU OF SOILS U. S DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE, WASHINGTON, D. C.

AFTER the lapse of over half a century the one-time well-known
theory of De Candolle has again come into prominence. The
demonstration that De Candolle was essentially correct in his deduc-
tions revives interest in a phase of plant physiology which has been
comparatively unnoticed for many years. In brief, his theory was
that plants excrete from their roots substances which are deleterious
to continued growth. These excreted substances were believed to have
a deleterious effect when absorbed from the soil by other plants belong-
ing to the same order as the plants from which the excretions came,
but according to the De Candollian theory the excretions would be
harmless or even beneficial to plants belonging to a different order.

Although this theory was supported by numerous botanists and
chemists of the last century, it has come to be known in the literature
as " De Candolle's theory of root excretions." There is obviously a
twofold reason for this: first of all, the prominence of the man him-
self in his own and subsequent times and, secondly, the fact that he
used this theory to explain the well-known benefits of crop rotation in
agriculture.

Before the work of De Candolle appeared, Brugmans had alleged
that he observed drops of liquid to exude from the roots of Viola
arvensis and that he had observed small fragments of material at the
extremities of the roots of certain other plants which he regarded as
excretions. Although his observations were made without the precau-
tions necessary for scientific experiment, they appear to have been quite
widely accepted by naturalists of the time, among them such men as
von Humboldt and De Candolle. To these pioneer workers the idea
that there may be noxious substances present in the soil appeared to be
the most direct means of explaining many pertinent problems of plant
distribution and of agriculture.

De Candolle carried his idea further and used it to explain the
apparent antagonisms of certain plants and expressed his belief that
they injured their neighbors by the substances exuded from their roots
into the soil. He cited the case of the cockscomb, which, he said,
appears to have a bad effect upon neighboring vegetation, and euphor-
bias, which are harmful to the growth of flax, tares to wheat, and
thistles to oats.

258 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

One of De Candolle's contemporaries, Macaire-Prinsep, carried out
some experiments, which for a time gave promise of firmly establish-
ing the existence of plant (or root) excretions. Macaire-Prinsep took
up a number of adolescent plants and after carefully washing their
roots, placed them in vessels containing rain water. He reported that
after eight days the water in which healthy specimens of Chondrilla
had grown had acquired a yellow tint and a strong odor. The water
had a bitter taste and gave a precipitate when added to solutions of
lead acetate. The same investigator also reported that water contain-
ing the excretions from the roots of peas was fatal to other plants of
the same species, but not to wheat plants.

Using these ideas and experiments as a basis, De Candolle formu-
lated a theory to account for the well-known benefits of crop rotation.
He expressed a belief that the harmful effects observed when the soil
is continuously cropped with the same species are due to an accumula-
tion of noxious excretions. According to his theory, the substances
excreted by the roots of one order of plants were not usually harmful
to the roots of plants belonging to other natural orders; in fact, they
might be slightly beneficial. In support of this idea he cited the in-
controvertible observation of every husbandman that in the majority
of cases good yields of all crops are obtained from the soil when plants
belonging to different natural orders are grown in succession.

De Candolle pointed out that there exist, in a state of nature, nat-
ural successions of forest trees in the course of which a given species
of tree is completely replaced by another species. According to his
observations the first species seemed to disappear because its excretions
so filled the soil as to render it unsuitable for the longer growth of
that species. It is interesting to note in passing that he published an
article in the Revue fmngaise showing the harm wrought by the decree
of Louis XIV. that forests should be perpetually maintained upon
forested lands.

De Candolle also made the trenchant observation that when shade
trees die from any cause it is very difficult to replace them with trees
of the same species.

Using these observations as a foundation, he built up a theory that
plants may injure each other by the matter excreted from their roots,
and that the success of crop rotation lies in preventing an undue
accumulation of excreted material in the soil. He went further and
expressed his belief that the excretory matter of the plants of certain
families, like the legumes, is not only feebly toxic to themselves, but
possesses actual value as a fertilizer for the cereals.

The ideas and observations of De Candolle were not allowed to
pass unchallenged, for within a few years controversial articles began
to appear.

THE QUESTION OF ROOT EXCRETIONS 259

Unger, and his pupil, Walser, showed that there had been certain
flaw? in the work of Macaire-Prinsep and made objections to his results.
Walser believed that, if Macaire's statements were correct, it would be
possible to demonstrate the presence of organic material in the soil
similar in composition to that existing within the plants which had
grown upon it. Braconnot, making the same assumption, attempted
to demonstrate the existence of opium-like bodies by washing the soil
on which plants of the poppy family had been grown for several years.
He obtained a solution of inorganic compounds, and, in addition, only
traces of organic compounds, and concluded that " If organic excre-
tions really take place in the natural state of the plant, they are, as
yet, so obscure and so little known as to justify the assumption that
some other explanation must be given for the general system of rota-
tion." Working without the proper idea of the difficulties of such a
task and without adequate knowledge of the organic compounds in the
soil, it is little wonder that they failed to demonstrate the presence
of compounds in the soil which might be regarded as excretory matter
from plants. They deserve credit, however, for showing that Brug-
mans had entirely misinterpreted the death of the root-hairs and the
decortication of the growing roots and had assumed that this material
was solid excretory matter from the living root.

One of the most scientific attempts to study this question appears
to have been made by Alfred Clyde, the results of whose work were
published in 1846 in the Transactions of the Highland and Agricul-
tural Society of Scotland, and which won for the author a premium of
twenty sovereigns. His modus operandi was to raise plants in pots
of garden soil, sand, moss or charcoal; to remove them at different
times; carefully wash their roots free from all adherent material and
place the root systems in vessels of distilled water. After a certain
length of time had elapsed, the composition of the water in the various
vessels was studied.

Mr. Gyde reported that the roots imparted to the water soluble
substances, to be regarded as excretory material, and that these excre-
tions seemed to be yielded in greater abundance by plants having coarse
roots like beans than by those which had finer roots, like wheat. In
some instances the water acquired an odor which was separable on the
application of heat and could be distilled over when the water was
placed in a retort. Plants like the bean and cabbage imparted an
odor to the water similar to that which characterizes their leaves.
Plants when in bloom were observed to emit more excretory material
than when young or when ripening their seed; but in any case the
amount of excretion obtained after evaporating the water was very
small. When this small amount of organic matter was reapplied to
the soil in which other plants were growing, no harmful effects were

260 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

observed. Without appreciating the additional factors which would
have to be considered in such an experiment, e. g., absorptive power
of the soil, action of microorganisms, oxidation, etc., Mr. Gyde con-
cluded that the excretions of plants are not harmful to their kind,
but that the necessity for a rotation of crops arises from the depletion
of the soil of the mineral plant food constituents. He thus appears
to turn, mirabile dictu, from a proposition which was partially proved
to one for which he had no proof; neither has conclusive proof been
afforded by any subsequent investigator.

Professor Johnson in " How Crops Grow " has justly remarked
that Mr. Gyde's results are not to be regarded as conclusive proofs for
or against the existence of root excretions.

The curiously regular growth of fungi in continually widening
circles, known as " fairy rings," presents many questions of scientific
interest and it is not surprising to find that the theory of deleterious
excretions was called in to explain this phenomenon. If one assumes
that harmful excretions are left in the soil by these plants, it is easy
to understand how the new and thrifty growth would continually arise
on the outer edge of the ring, and thus give rise to the phenomenon
observed.

The subject of " fairy rings " appears to have been studied by Way,
who admitted, in a paper published in 1847, " that by far the most
scientific and intelligent solution of the question is that which was
based upon De Candolle's theory of the excretions of plants." But on
account of objections which appeared insuperable to him, he was unable
to accept it as a final satisfactory explanation.

In connection with the decadence of the De Candollian theory,
special mention must be made of Liebig and of his attitude toward the
question. At first he pronounced this theory of crop rotation to be
the only one " resting on a firm basis." He regarded the experiment
of Macaire-Prinsep as positive proof that the roots, probably of all
plants, expel substances which can not be utilized in metabolism.

In addition to his extensive investigations upon the chemistry of
the soil, Liebig made numerous studies upon the chemistry of the ash
constituents of plants. He found that the essential elements were
present in the ash of all plants, in quantities which formed a more or
less definite ratio for a given plant. Eeasoning from these facts,
Liebig developed the idea that each plant requires a certain ratio of
mineral constituents in the soil, as well as a certain minimum amount.
He held firmly to the idea that plants could no more attain their
maximum growth in the absence of a proper ratio of these mineral
nutrients than when the total quantity was too small. This theory
became known as Liebig' theory of mineral requirements.

Liebig's explanation of the benefits of crop rotation followed as a

THE QUESTION OF BOOT EXCRETIONS 261

corollary to his theory of mineral requirements ; since plants take their
essential constituents in such established ratios they must in time
destroy the necessary ratio of these elements in the soil, but when
another plant drawing its ash constituents in a different ratio is sub-
stituted, it obtains a sufficient supply of nutrients and the soil is thus
relieved of exhaustion.

Under the domination of Liebig's theory of mineral requirements,
the theory of De Candolle was practically abandoned. Subsequent to
his time the mineral matter of both soil and plant claimed paramount
attention, and the biological factors connected with soil problems were
almost entirely neglected. Unscientific as it now appears, it must be
admitted that for several decades Liebig's dictum had more weight
than any amount of experimental evidence. It would even appear
that his word has been regarded so infallible in certain quarters that
further scientific research has been regarded as unnecessary.

The inadequacy of the theory of mineral requirements alone to
explain the productivity of soils has been aptly set forth by Coleman
in an essay " On the Causes of Fertility or Barrenness of Soils," pre-
sented to the Eoyal Agricultural Society of England. This essay,
although written fifty years ago, expresses the status of the problems
of the mineral requirements theory as well now as at the time it was
written. He says:

The causes which operate in producing the fertility or barrenness of soils
have hitherto to a great extent been shrouded in mystery, not from any want
of study, but owing to the difficulties which meet the inquirer at every step,
and the fact that most important results frequently depend upon causes which
have eluded the search of the experimenter. The science of chemistry it was
hoped would afford the key wherewith to unlock the mysteries of nature, but
though its discoveries have conferred much practical benefit on the agricul-
turist, it has up to a very recent period effected comparatively little toward
settling the causes of fertility or sterility. The theories of scientific men led
us to expect that fertility depended upon the presence of certain mineral sub-
stances which were found invariably present in the ashes of plants, and the
analysis of a soil it was believed would confirm the practical experience of the
farmer; these hopes have been falsified except in the few cases of almost simple
soils, such as pure clays and sands. In all other instances the analysis pre-
sented the existence in varying proportions of those substances supposed to
induce fertility equally in the barren as the fertile soil. The proportion of the
various ingredients was next proposed as a sign of quality, but researches into
the amount of inorganic matter abstracted by each crop have demonstrated that
soils of a mixed character contain abundant supplies of mineral food for
numerous crops.

From the time of Liebig and the establishment of his theory of
the mineral requirements of plants, there appears to have been no
serious discussion of the subject of root excretion until recent years.
The reports of the Woburn Experimental Fruit Farm of the Eoyal

262 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Agricultural Society of England for the past few years contain a series
of significant articles by the Duke of Bedford and Dr. Pickering upon
the mutual effect of plants upon each other. These authors observed
that the growth of young apple and pear trees was severely retarded
when grass was allowed to grow about their roots. The harmful effects
were much more pronounced in the case of grass than in the case of
weeds. Young trees planted in a pasture, with all the sod replaced
around them, died during the first season, but when a small circle of
sod was permanently removed, they lived. The first supposition was
that the injury was due to the removal of plant nutrients, and experi-
ments were accordingly inaugurated to ascertain whether this was the
case, but all the experiments answered the question in the negative.
Experiments were also conducted to determine whether the removal of
water by the grass was the cause of the injury, but again a negative
answer was obtained. The results of other experiments showed that
the injury could not be ascribed to the presence of an excessive amount
of carbon dioxide, or to the lack of oxygen, since the characteristic
injury was only observed when grass was growing around the tree roots.
The authors finally concluded that the injurious effect of the grass
could be due only to some action on the tree roots akin to that of direct
poisoning, leaving the question open as to whether this action is due
to excretions from the grass or to the changed bacterial action in the
soil induced by the presence of grass.

Jones and Morse, of the Vermont Agricultural Experiment Station,
have reported observations which indicate that a somewhat similar
antagonism exists between butternut trees and the shrubby cinquefoil.
They found that the cinquefoil, which grows abundantly in certain
localities, was not found under or around butternut trees on a circle
fully twice the diameter of the tree-top. Their observations showed
that the " dead line " for the cinquefoil is pushed outward year by
year as the butternut tree expands, so that the trees may be surrounded
by a circle of dead and dying cinquefoil plants bordering the clean
grass plot under the tree. Upon closer examination the roots of dead
and dying cinquefoil plants were found always to be in close proximity
to. those of the butternut trees. That the injury was not due to shade
or the removal of water is very improbable, since other species of
deciduous trees in the same locality were closely surrounded by cinque-
foil plants.

The antagonistic effect of roots is also shown by an instructive
experiment recently published by Hunt and Gates in a bulletin of the
Cornell Agricultural Experiment Station : Rectangular boxes of soil
were planted with corn in one end and with common weeds in the
opposite end. Where the roots of the two kinds of plants were allowed
to intermingle, the corn made less growth than where a partition in

THE QUESTION OF ROOT EXCRETIONS 263

the middle of the boxes kept the roots of the weeds separate from those
of the corn. When the partition was present, each sort of plant was
confined to half the soil in the box, but, where lacking, one sort of
roots appeared to exercise a noxious influence upon the other.

In studying the general question of soil fertility, the laboratories
of the Bureau of Soils in the United States Department of Agriculture
have obtained some instructive evidence bearing upon this problem of
plant excretions. The data obtained from different lines of experi-
mentation all go to prove the truth of the general assumption that
plants do excrete substances which may have a toxic action on the
species of plants producing them.

The Bureau of Soils has recently published the outcome of some
experiments in which several sets of wheat plants were grown in rapid
succession on the same soil. The soil was kept in pots and each set
of wheat plants was smaller than the one immediately preceding, as
might have been predicted, since it is well known that the continuous
culture of a given crop on a soil " exhausts " it more rapidly than the
culture of diversified crops. In the experiments cited, the growth of
the fourth set of plants was in some cases only 30 per cent, of the
growth of the first set.

Such cases of apparent exhaustion have generally been assumed to
be due to the removal of plant nutrients from the soil by previous
crops. Accordingly, experiments were made in which mineral plant
nutrients in the form of pure chemicals were added to the soil at the
time of planting the successive crops in amounts equal or greater than
those removed by the preceding crop. The addition of these supplies
of plant food constituents failed, however, to produce a growth of
plants equal to the first crop, although they helped the growth of the
plants. This possibility of soil exhaustion is still further rendered
improbable by the fact that the wheat plants grew only three weeks
and during that time they derived much of their food supply from the
reserve nutrients stored in the seed ; hence the amounts taken from the
soil were very small.

To emphasize the action of root excretions upon the soil, experi-
ments were made in which the first set of wheat plants was allowed to
grow for only five days, or until the plumules were just beginning to
appear above the surface of the soil in the pots, a length of time obvi-
ously insufficient to " exhaust " the soil. All the plants were carefully
removed and the soil again planted with wheat, simultaneously with
the same number of pots of fresh soil. The plants following the five-
day crop made only 80 per cent, of the growth of the plants in fresh
soil.

The outcome of these experiments is quite strong proof that the
cause of these decreased yields is not the depletion of mineral nutri-

264 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ents, but lies rather in the production of unfavorable soil conditions
by the excretion of substances from the roots of preceding crops of
plants.

The effect of root excretions is strikingly shown by some experi-
ments in which wheat was grown in pure quartz sand. The sand con-
tained a very insignificant amount of plant nutrients, but the young
wheat seedlings were able to draw sufficient nourishment from the seed
to maintain growth during the time of the experiment. Pots of fresh
quartz sand were planted with wheat simultaneously with an equal
number of pots containing quartz sand which had previously grown
wheat for twenty-one days. The growth of the wheat in the " ex-
hausted " sand was only about 45 per cent, of that in the fresh sand,
in spite of the fact that both sets of plants were supplied with nutri-
ents from the seeds. It would be obviously incorrect to ascribe the
" exhaustion " of the sand to a depletion of plant nutrients at the out-
set. The harmful effects following a previous crop appear to be more
probably due to the presence of deleterious substances arising in the
sand during the growth of that crop.

Evidence from another experiment showed that the roots leave sub-
stances in the soil which may be removed by proper treatment. Three
crops of wheat seedlings were grown in pots and showed decreasing
yields.* When the last crop was removed, an aqueous extract of the
soil was prepared and used as a nutrient solution in which a fourth set
of wheat plants was grown. A portion of the soil extract was shaken
with carbon black, which acts as a strong absorbing agent, and filtered
free from carbon black at the end of a half hour. When a soil extract
possessing deleterious properties is given this treatment with an absorb-
ing agent, it is almost invariably improved, on account of the removal
of the harmful substances. In this " exhausted " soil the same results
of the carbon black treatment were noticed as in the case of deleterious
soil extracts. The extract of the " exhausted " soil produced as good
plants, after treatment with carbon black, as the extract of fresh soil
treated in the same way.

The antagonistic action of one plant upon another was shown by
the harmful effect of trees upon wheat. Small trees were transplanted
into paraffine wire pots and kept growing in a greenhouse where opti-
mum conditions of light and moisture could be obtained. Wheat was
also planted in each pot and allowed to grow about three weeks. As
soon as the first set of wheat plants had been cut and weighed, a second
set was planted and this was repeated at intervals of about three weeks,
until nine successive crops had been grown, always growing control
crops in pots without trees. The growth of the wheat in the pots con-
taining trees was poorer than the controls during the summer while
the trees were actively growing, "but when autumn came and the trees

THE QUESTION OF ROOT EXCRETIONS 265

entered their resting period, the growth of wheat in the pots became
better. It does not seem possible that the harmful effects of the trees
could have been due to the removal of plant food; if so, there would
have been no increase in the yield in autumn. It seems, therefore,
that the presence of the roots must have had some other effect upon
the growth of the wheat, as the size of the pots made it necessary for
the two kinds of roots to be in close physical relation. That the
retarding effect is due to substances excreted by the tree roots seems
probable. It was also noted that tree pots that produced as much
wheat growth in November as the controls were the ones in which the
trees showed the earliest signs of winter rest. These results seem to
be conclusive, therefore, in showing that the injurious effect of the trees
was due to the excretion of toxic substances from the roots.

These experiments, which may be regarded as furnishing negative
evidence upon the problem, were supplemented by others which furnish
more direct and conclusive evidence of a positive sort. By taking
advantage of the chemotropic sensitiveness of the roots of seedlings, it
is possible to employ them as indicators of the presence of their own
harmful excretions. It is well known that roots, like other perceptive
organs, will curve and grow towards substances possessing beneficial
properties, but will curve away from other bodies possessing deleterious
properties. Advantage was taken of this reaction to chemical stimuli
for showing the presence of deleterious excretions.

Without going into lengthy details of the experiments in this place,
it may be said that the method consisted essentially in growing roots
in small glass tubes, from which they might escape at suitable open-
ings if any stimulus caused them to turn aside from their normal
downward course of growth. In this case there was a stimulus, and it
was the deleterious matter excreted from the roots during growth. It
was unmistakably shown that the growing roots of healthy plants do
excrete deleterious substances in amounts sufficient to exercise an influ-
ence upon plant growth. It was shown that roots of wheat are in-
different to substances excreted by plants of another sort, like maize
or cowpeas. The excretions from roots of a more closely related plant,
like oats, were not as harmful to wheat as excretions from wheat, but
more harmful than excretions from the more distantly related plants.

Eecent work in the laboratories of the Bureau of Soils has resulted
in obtaining organic compounds from " wheat-sick " and " cowpea-
sick " soils. At the late meeting of the American Association for the
Advancement of Science, held in Chicago, Schreiner and Sullivan
reported the results of this work.

Wheat seedlings were grown continuously upon a soil until it
became " wheat-sick," and its productiveness for wheat was quite small.
This soil when carefully distilled yielded a small quantity of a crystal-

266 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

line organic compound which, when dissolved in pure water, exhibited
a toxic action upon wheat plants, but was relatively harmless to cow-
peas. Crystals were similarly obtained from a " cowpea-sick " soil
and were found to be harmful to cowpeas, but relatively harmless to
wheat plants. Since the same soil in which neither plant was grown
yielded none of these substances, it seems only logical to conclude that
these substances were formed as a result of the plant growth in that
soil.

Data like those briefly presented above have given strong proof of
the existence of excretions from the roots of plants, and show that they
may exert a harmful effect upon the growth of succeeding crops of the
same kind. Without too liberally interpreting these facts, it may be
said that the demonstration of root excretions throws a new light upon
the interrelation of soils and plants and promises to afford a solution
to some important questions. De Candolle and his contemporaries
failed to appreciate the agencies in the soil which effect the destruction
of deleterious organic substances, and maintained that, once a crop had
been grown, the soil would for a long time be unsuitable to that crop.
When the majority of soils are kept in what is ordinarily known as
" good tilth " by cultivation and continued rotation of crops, it is
improbable that root excretions will accumulate to an extent which
would be harmful. Processes of oxidation, brought about by proper
cultivation, the oxidizing power of roots, and the action of micro-
organisms in the soil are important factors in destroying these dele-
terious substances. It has also been shown that substances ordinarily
employed as fertilizers have a destructive action upon toxic substances,
especially when aided by the action of plant roots.

It is more than probable that the consideration of the existence of
root excretions will also throw considerable light upon the problem of
association and migration of species and individuals in the vegetable
kingdom. The reasons for the association of certain species in nature
have often been studied, but never satisfactorily explained. The same
applies to questions of migration and natural succession. It has been
shown that such physical factors as light and water play important
parts, but they have not been found sufficient to give a satisfactory
explanation for all the phenomena.

It would seem that the methods of soil fertility investigations
might be applied with profit to the study of plant ecology. The effect
of the root excretions from one species upon another might in certain
cases prove to be the controlling factor in association. From the
evidence already at hand, it would seem that the biological factors
play a definite and considerable role in these phenomena.

SILVER 267

SILVER

By THEO. F. VAN WAGENEN, E.M.

DENVER, COLO.

PREVIOUS to 1870 silver was reckoned as one of the precious
metals, and possessed, by virtue of an unwritten agreement be-
tween the principal nations of the world, a definite value in terms of
gold, viz., $1.29 per fine ounce. The metal was never purchasable at
less than this figure, and usually commanded a premium, which, dur-
ing the last century, ranged from nothing up to as high as ten per cent.
It is now purely a commodity, like all the other metals except gold, and
while the demand has greatly increased since the date just mentioned,
the production has nearly quadrupled, and the price has fallen steadily
until during last year it averaged 65 cents.

Curiously enough, since this great change silver has become one
of the three metals (nickel and copper being the other two) that
circulate as coins at a valuation far above their commodity price.
This of course is due to the fact that they are by law legal tenders up
to certain amounts, but the circumstance illustrates quite well the
vagaries of human law when it comes into conflict with those of nature.
The American quarter, the English shilling, the Latin Union franc, the
German Mark, the Austrian Kroner, the Russian Rouble, all being
coins that circulate freely at valuations ranging from twenty to twenty-
five cents of our money, would bring, if melted and sold as bullion,
little more than half those figures. On the other hand, the Indian
rupee, of approximately the same weight and fineness, not being backed
by any such law, circulates at its commodity value only, and its pur-
chasing power in the markets of the world fluctuates with the price of
the metal.

Silver sometimes occurs in nature in the metallic condition, and it
is due to this fact that it has been known from very ancient times. But
it is not found like gold, in grains or nuggets in the gravel of stream
beds. Its principal habitat is the vein in rock, and hence it may be
inferred that in antiquity the quantity possessed by man was much
less than that of gold. To primitive man the latter metal was re-
garded, in a way, as a fragment, or at least a representative of the
sun, while silver bore the same relation to the moon in his mind.

When the interior of China becomes well known, it is likely that
the remains of very ancient silver mines will be found there, for the

268 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

metal has been produced in that nation, in small quantities, from re-
mote antiquity. There are no evidences that India ever possessed any
silver mines of note, but in Burmah there have been found extensive
slag dumps rich in lead and zinc, and carrying a notable per cent, of
the white metal, whence it may be inferred that it was produced there
in some quantity at some time in the past. In the little known and
very rugged region between Hindustan, the Persian Gulf and the
Caspian Sea, embracing the crude nationalities known as Persia, Ar-
menia, Afghanistan and Baluchistan, there has been a small production
ever since early historic times, and the same may be said of Asia Minor.
The Grecian peninsula, however, possessed a silver-producing region of
great importance and high antiquity, from which, as early as 1000 B.C.,
the metal came in notable quantity. There are no known ancient
silver-producing districts of any note in Africa, but the Italian penin-
sula and Spain yielded the metal in early historic times, the former
moderately and the latter very abundantly. In fact, Spain was really
the first great silver-mining country of the world.

More than any other metal silver has been intimately associated
with the advance of civilization, or rather of that very important de-
partment of human activity that is called commerce, meaning thereby
international trade. Authentic history seems to begin with the fact
of two comparatively peaceful, industrious and frugal races, occupying
the rich valleys of the regions now called India and China; and a lot
of turbulent, migratory people in western Asia, eastern Europe and
northern Africa, who devoted much of their time and energy to fighting
and destroying each others' homes. Between the two was the highest
and most difficultly passable mountain chain in the world, known now
as the Hindoo Koosh and Himalaya Bange, which for centuries, and per-
haps millenniums kept them apart effectively enough to allow each to
develop its own peculiarities. The first, which we distinguish as the
Orientals, appear to have settled down at a very early period to agri-
cultural pursuits, and to such peaceful arts and occupations as were
naturally the outgrowth of ruralism. Population grew fast, a crude
and quiet, yet strong trading capacity developed, religious advance was
marked, but was not of the proselyting kind, was more contemplative
and introspective. The arts progressed only to a certain point, and
then became stationary. Wealth was attained by industry and accumu-
lation mainly, and did not often arise from exploration or conquest.
Such luxury and ease as resulted never passed much beyond the barbaric
stage. The sciences did not become exact or even organized, and have
retained, up to the present day, an air of mysticism. Literature was
of the contemplative kind, and produced only a most cumbersome
methods of recording itself.

The second, which we may call the Occidentals, advanced along

SILVER 269

wholly different lines. Every department of life was more strenuous,
and the results, naturally, were more notable. The increase of popu-
lation was perhaps as great, but the destruction of life by wars and
slavery was enormous. The arts flourished, especially architecture, but
their product in the shape of buildings, highways, canals, libraries and
museums was continually being looted by conquerors, yet this very
ruthless destruction seems to have incited rather than discouraged
advance and improvements. The sciences were developed up to the
point where discovery began, literature to the stage, where it became
imperishable because of the invention of comparatively simple methods
of writing, society to a state where education was highly prized, religion
to the conception of monotheism.

Between these two diverse and different kinds of humanity a trade
slowly sprang into existence. It was first, doubtless, by way of the
Arabian Sea, which at some time in the distant past was a " mare
clausum," a Mediterranean, as the result of a land connection between
east Africa and India, by way of Madagascar, the Seychelles and
Andaman Islands; and later by caravan routes through the passes
of the mountains. The western nations sought the luxurious and
decorative products of the eastern, their fabrics of silk and wool,
their manufactures of bronze, their gems and jewelry of ivory and
jade. What could be given in exchange? It was early discovered
that the money of the east was silver, that it was scarce there and its
purchasing power great. Consequently when the strenuous west began
to produce the metal in quantity, first from the mountains of Persia
and Asia Minor, and later in Greece, Italy and Spain, it became pos-
sessed of an article with which the products of the east could be
obtained. But the west loved war above all things, and had the war-
rior's immemorial contempt for trade, and so there gradually grew
into existence, at the extreme eastern end of the Mediterranean, a
nation of traders, the Phoenicians, who took charge of the commerce
between the Occident and the orient, who never gained any celebrity
except along commercial lines, and who for centuries were actually
protected in turn by all the great powers of antiquity because of their
trading ability, and their knowledge of where and how to get those
products of Asia that Europe wanted. We know that the ships of
Tyre and Sidon ransacked the shores of the Mediterranean for silver,
and were the owners and operators of mines of that metal in Greece,
Italy and Spain. Their product was sent overland by caravan, or
over sea by ships sailing from ports first on the Persian Gulf, and later
on the Eed Sea, to India, and exchanged for the manufactures of the
east. One of the most valued of these was tin. Malaysia has been
from the most remote antiquity, and is to-day, a prolific producer of
this metal, and very early in the history of the human race the ex-

270 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tremely desirable qualities of the alloy it made with copper (bronze)
became known. For many centuries primitive Europe poured its
silver into Asia and sold it for tin. In due time the demand became
greater than the supply, and at the same time the product of the
European silver mines began to fall off. The price of tin in terms
of silver increased greatly. So also did the value of silver. In this
crisis, which threatened the very existence of the trade between the
east and the west, two remedies were tried. The Greeks, the dominant
nation of the time, under Alexander the Great, started out to conquer
India, and to find and capture the Asian tin mines, but, as we know,
he never got any farther on the way than the valley of the Indus in
eastern Hindustan, where he died. Simultaneously the Phoenicians
began to search the western world for the metal, and finally found it
in Britain. When Cornish tin began to come into the market, the
corner that Asia had for so many centuries had on tin was broken, the
Malaysian mines fell rapidly into decadence, and the ancient value
of silver in the east was resumed. Europe then had the advantage,
but as its silver product was on the decline, its trade with India fell
away, and the two far separated parts of the world almost forgot each
other. Europe, now well supplied with tin and copper, devoted itself
to strenuous war and destruction. A thousand years or so later, when
the Eoman Empire had passed its prime, new silver mines were found
in central Europe, and trade with the east began to revive once more.
Venice was then the commercial center of the world, and it nourished
as long as the Austrian and German silver mines were in bonanza,
and when the cream of these was skimmed it began to decline. From
that day till the years when Spanish galleons began to bring in silver
from the new world, times in Europe were hard, civilization languished,
and humanity suffered. Historians call the period the " Dark Ages."
History also records the wonderful change that took place when the
Mexican and Peruvian silver mines began to pour their flood of treasure
into Europe. There was a marvelous revival of industry and of the
arts and sciences, and the greater part of it was directly due to the
enormous coinage of Mexican silver dollars, and their wide distribution
in trade. This coin for three centuries has had a larger circulation,
and has become more extensively known than any other tangible
product of the hand of man.

From the date of the discovery of America up to about the be-
ginning of the last century, the source of the world's supply of silver
was almost entirely the mines of Mexico and of the west coast of
South America. The production in this period is estimated by sta-
tisticians at nearly 200,000 tons, and its value (then about $30,000
per ton), at $6,000,000,000. The bulk of this vast total went first to
Europe, and more than half of it in the shape of coins of American

SILVER 271

mintage. The remainder went into European coinage and plate. In
those days it was not generally known that American silver always
carried more or less gold, or else the methods of parting the two metals
was very imperfect. Whichever was the case it is a fact that all the
coins made in that period carried from two to five per cent of the
yellow metal, and if any quantity of them could be now bought up
at the commodity price of silver it would be a most profitable opera-
tion to separate the associated gold. This great store of what was,
in those days, a money metal of unlimited legal tender value, enabled
the new world to buy what it needed of Europe, and permitted the
latter to resume its trade with the far east. Thus the old story was
repeated. The pioneer, going westward, sends home the wealth he
acquires through tremendous hardships, and upon this those who stay
behind live luxuriously, or at least comfortably, as long as the good
times last. And Spain, who was practically the parent and owner
of those parts of the new world whence the metal came, prospered
prodigiously, and became the wealthiest of the nations. But in 1810
its much-robbed and over-patient colonies began their struggle for
independence. Spain resisted strenuously, and beggared herself in
the effort to retain them. One by one, however, they tore themselves
loose from her rule. The contest lasted through more than a decade, -
and during it the silver-mining industry suffered greatly. In South
America it was almost suspended. The supply of the metal in Europe
for coinage became scant, and trade with the orient again declined.
In the middle of this period, when the destructive career of Napoleon
was coming to an end, when all Europe was in financial distress, and
vast amounts of plate had gone to the melting pot to be transformed
into coin, with silver advancing in value (in terms of gold) until it
commanded the equivalent of $1.40 to to $1.45 per fine ounce, with
existing coinage of some of the nations in process of debasement by
the addition of lead and tin to the alloy, England, in 1816, went on
the mono-metallic gold basis, and started the train of conditions that
later (in 1873) resulted in the complete demonitization of the white
metal. And in this connection it is a most curious fact of history that
while England in 1816 abandoned silver as a money metal because of
its scarcity and high relative value in terms of gold, the rest of the
great commercial nations followed her footsteps nearly fifty years later
because of its abundance and falling value.

During the long struggle between Spain and her colonies the min-
ing industry of Mexico was also greatly injured. When the country
became independent in 1821 it passed into a condition of anarchy that
lasted almost a half century. In this period its mines were operated
under the greatest disadvantages, and the amounts of the metal ex-
ported was comparatively small. But as soon as political affairs in

272 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the republic became settled by the accession of President Diaz to power,
the mining industry immediately began to revive, and to-day its output
of the white metal exceeds that of any other nation.

Previous to 1859, when silver was first discovered in the United
States (in Nevada), silver mining was not an organized industry in
any sense of the word, but an occupation dependent largely for success
upon the accidental discovery of bonanzas of very rich ore, and the
ability to secure labor upon a basis of practical slavery. The Mexican
and South American mines were worked by natives who were clothed,
fed and sheltered merely to a sufficient extent to keep them alive dur-
ing the prime of their physical powers. Only one step on the road of
progress had been taken in the metallurgy of the metal, namely, the
invention of what is known as the "patio process," which depended for
its success largely on the element of unlimited time for its operation,
coupled with nearly costless animal power. But when it became evi-
dent that the Comstock Lode in Nevada contained vast quantities of
silver, the natural ingenuity and aptitude of the American transformed
mining into a commercial industry, and the metal began to pour in
such torrents into the money centers of the world that financiers
became alarmed, and between 1870 and 1873 full coinage rights were
finally denied by the principal nations. Meantime, a remarkable in-
dustry had come into existence in the mountain regions of our west.
Thousands of silver mines had been discovered, scores of processes in-
vented and put into practise for the treatment of their ores, and a
vast number of metalliferous deposits developed that have since been
yielding copper, lead, zinc, iron and manganese in addition to the
white metal.

Silver occurs in veins or deposits in the rocky crust of the earth, and
is never found in the gravel of stream beds as is gold. In a small num-
ber of cases the gangue, or material with which the metal is associated,
is quartz alone, but generally one or more of the base metals is present,
predominating vastly in quantity, and often in value. This is especially
true after a little depth is gained on the veins, so that in due time
mines that were opened as straight silver deposits became rather de-
posits of the other metals, the silver being practically a by-product.
A good example of this change is to be found in the lodes of Butte,
Montana. The veins at Parral, Pachuca and Guanajuato in Mexico
are samples of straight silver mines, yet all of them are showing more
or less associated iron or copper as depth is gained. On the other hand,
wherever lead is found, silver is always present in some quantity, and,
at the Comstock as well as at the Mexican districts just mentioned,
there is invariably a proportion of gold. In the Comstock bullion it
amounted to 40 per cent, of the total values. Thus the metallurgy
of silver ores is not a simple matter, and in the days between 1860 and

SILVER 273

1873, when the metal had a value of about $1.30 per ounce, a vast
amount of study and experiment was devoted to the question of recov-
ering it from its ores by milling processes, or methods not involving
the fusion of the minerals. Preliminary roasting (sometimes in the
presence of salt), followed by long-continued grinding with mercury,
under water, was the system adopted in the majority of cases, the
result being an amalgam of mercury and silver. This was then
heated in retorts to volatilize the mercury, and the silver left behind
was melted and cast into bars for shipment to market. Other processes
involved the use of chemicals by the aid of which the metal was brought
into a state of solution, and from which it was recovered by some
method of precipitation. But as the west became opened by railroads
so that ores could be cheaply transported to natural centers where
coal or water power existed and labor was abundant and inexpensive,
most of these processes were abandoned in favor of smelting, in which
the ores, properly mixed to secure fusion, are melted in a blast furnace.
The products are either copper or lead bars — according to the system
used — and during the melt the precious metals unite with the baser
ones, from which they are subsequently separated by electrolysis. In
consequence of all this the production of silver may now be considered
as a settled industry, and because the metal is now produced very
largely as a by-product.

Since its discovery in the United States, and the application of
business methods to the mining of its ores and their treatment, the
world's output has amounted to nearly 170,000 tons. There has been
nothing comparable to this enormous yield in any previous era of its
history, and its fall in value may be considered as warranted, and per-
haps permanent. The annual output of the world at the present time
averages about 6,000 tons, and is not at all likely to seriously
decline. The American and Mexican mines show no signs of ex-
haustion. On the contrary, new ones are continually being found.
Asia and Europe are not likely to become large producers of the metal.
The settled parts of the old world have been fairly well explored, and
in the unsettled parts like Siberia, Turkey and Africa the mining laws
are so burdensome that the prospector and individual miner (who are
the advance guard in the exploration of the mineral resources of a
land) will have nothing to do with those regions. In Australia some-
what similar conditions prevail. We may, however, confidently look to
South America for many new and great silver mines, when the political
situation becomes as stable as in Mexico, for Spanish mining law has
always recognized the necessity of the prospector at the base of the
industry. The extent to which the American crop of silver is a by-
product is shown by the following table worked out by the author for

274 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the year 1899, when the product of our mines amounted to about 2,100
tons.

Tons Per Cent.

Produced in connection with lead ores 750.75 35.75

Produced in connection with copper ores 514.50 24.50

Produced in connection with gold 504.00 24.00

Produced in connection with iron and manganese . 173.25 8.25

Produced from straight ores 157.50 7.50

In Mexico, on account of the activity in Parral, Pachuca and
Guanajuato, the proportion of silver coming from straight ores is
larger, and perhaps the same is true for South America. But in
Europe, Asia and Africa practically the entire product of silver comes
from the distinctively lead and copper mines, so that for the entire
world the proportions quoted in the above table would be about correct.

The demand for the metal is growing and may be expected to
increase markedly in the near future. The largest consumers now,
as in the past, are the three great backward races of the far east, the
Hindus the Malays and the Chinese. It takes from 2,500 to 3,000
tons every year at present to maintain trade with them, and but one,
the people of Hindustan and Farther India, may be said to have been
more than wakened from their sleep of centuries. These number
about three hundred millions of frugal, industrious and acquisative
people. When the four hundred million of Chinamen are thoroughly
aroused, and the one hundred million of mixed races that include the
Filipinos and the inhabitants of the East Indian Islands, there will come
at least as large a call for the metal as that which now exists. For silver
is the only money that the orient recognizes, or can use. The capacity
of that part of the world for absorbing it has always been the wonder of
economists, to whom Asia is known as " the sink of silver/' Statistics
show that an average of not less than 600 tons of the metal has been
sent to the east by Europe annually during the last 300 years. Prac-
tically none of it has ever come back. Among the thousand million
Asiatics it has disappeared as hoards of coin, or bars, or as ornaments,
or is afloat as money. This curious process is in progress to-day with
nearly fivefold the vigor of the past. Practically seventy per cent,
of all the silver produced in Europe and America since the dawn of
history is now in the possession of the Chinese, Japanese, Malays and
Hindus. Yet we regard them as a poverty-stricken people, which in
fact they are, for with all this immense hoard of what was once the
paramount money metal of the world, famine or pestilence is abroad
nearly every year in one or more parts of the orient. This vast
metallic accumulation will not save them when crops fail and starva-
tion is at hand, for the west, having demonetized silver will not ac-
cept it in exchange for food except on the basis of a pure commodity.

SILVER 275

From 400 to 500 tons of the metal is at present being consumed
by the world in manufactures and the arts. Such parts as are used
in photography and by the chemist may be regarded as lost, and it
amounts to as much as 50 tons per year. The balance becomes table
ware, jewelry and ornaments. About 5,000 tons goes into coinage.
Fifty per cent, of this is minted in Asia, approximately twenty-five
per cent, in Europe, fifteen per cent, in Mexico and South America
and the balance in the United States. All this, except the coinage of
India,. Mexico and Japan, is bought by the various governments at the
commodity value of the metal, and after taking the stamp of the
mint goes out to the public on the basis of the old ratio of 16 to 1
as compared with gold. The difference is absorbed as profit, under the
name of seignorage. This profit to the treasuries of the civilized
nations is now amounting to something more than $10,000,000 per
annum, and is somewhat of the nature of a fraud on the people,
though with the existing conventions in the matter of money and
coinage it is not easy to say how the fraud can be avoided.

Considered wholly by itself, and from the standpoint of its purely
physical properties, silver is yet a precious metal. Its pure white color
and soft luster can not be approached in aluminum, tin, nickel or any
other metal, and though it tarnishes quickly, and has not the resistant
qualities of gold to the action of acids and of sulphur, yet no metal
we at present know of can take its place for small coinage, or for
ordinary table ware and decorative purposes. Aside from these uses
it is the best conductor of electricity of all known substances, and
there may be a special future for it in the wonderful -development of
that new servant of man. Perhaps as the science of wireless telegraphy
and telephony advances silver may come to be employed in the repro-
duction of sound waves when great distances must be bridged, or ex-
treme delicacy of enunciation is desired. Yet copper approaches it
so closely in electric sensitiveness, and is so much more abundant, and
consequently cheaper, that we are not likely to do much of our talking
in the future over silver wires.

The world's crop of silver during the }rear 1907 amounted to about
0,400 tons, and came from the following parts of the globe in about
the quantities given :

Tods Tons

Mexico .' 2,300 Europe 760

United States 1,900 Australasia 440

South America 420 Japan 120

Canada 400 China and Malaysia 15

Central America 3o Africa 10

6^00

276 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

From these figures it appears that nearly 80 per cent, of the annual
product is coming from the western hemisphere, and if we add to this
the output of Australasia, the proportion coming from what may he
regarded as the newer parts of the world, so far as the question of its
civilization is concerned, rises to 85 per cent. Finally, hy including
the European product, it will appear that Asia, where the metal is most
in demand, and where it still retains all of its old debt-paying quality,
produces less than 3 per cent, of the total world's crop. Hence there
is still a large field for silver in the orient, and its exploitation and
development is undoubtedly the next great task of the Caucasian.
And in this view the silver miner may take some comfort.

JAPANESE WRITING 277

JAPANESE WEITING

BY E. W. SCRIPTURE, Ph.D., M.D.
NEW YORK CITY

SOME time ago a Japanese student handed me the following state-
ment:

In Japan we aim at two distinct objects in giving instruction in writing.
One is to teach the children the mode of writing ordinary characters, and to
make them acquainted with the management of the brush. But we have an-
other important object in teaching writing; in Japan it is regarded as one of
the fine arts. Japan is a land of hero-Avorship. Nothing delights us more than
the memory of great heroes and sages of the past. Every relic connected with
them is cherished as a visible token of their great minds. We believe ourselves
to be especially inspired and ennobled by their autographs. So the educated
classes decorate what is set apart as the sacred part of the room — called
" Tokonoma " — with such an autograph. We study the writings of eminent
persons as a physiognomist would study the various expressions of human faces
to know their inner characteristics. When we are trying to copy after an emi-
nent writer we feel very much as we would when standing in front of a marble
statue of a great man. Therefore we pay special attention to the posture of
every limb of our body, and especially to the management of the brush, for we
think we are in the presence of that hero himself. In that moment we con-
centrate our mind to direct all the energies of our body in a certain definite
direction, in consequence of which our lower passions and appetites are extin-
guished as the dark clouds of night are dispersed by the radiance of the rising
sun, and our spirits are freed from all the cares and anxieties of the present
world and are wafted to the ideal region of highest felicity, where we commune
with the holy spirits of the great heroes and sages. It was thought by the
sages of old that by means of such a method of writing they could regulate the
outward postures of their disciples and in consequence could discipline their
inner spirits, So they counted the art of writing as one of the " Six Arts " by
which they sought to edify man's character.

In Japan writing plays an important part in the social life of the
people. On the second of January, on which day the work of the
year begins, educated persons — especially the younger people — try
their new brushes on specially prepared paper by writing sentiments
in praise of nature and by expressing their wishes and hopes for the
coming year. The Japanese give writing-parties just as we do lawn-
parties and euchre-parties. At these gatherings the guests exhibit
their best pieces of writing and receive prizes. Again, a piece of silk
with an elegantly written sentiment serves as a highly acceptable wed-
ding present. Even the walls of the rooms are decorated by writings
in place of paintings.

278

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 1. Manner of Large Writing.

Writing is also a part of the divine service of Buddha. The
empresses and emperors in the olden days made copies of the Sacred
Books; the characters were golden on a white field, the style of the
letters was dignified and beautiful. There is even a special god of
writing, Ten Jin. He was a great statesman, poet and scholar of the
olden time, and also a fine writer; he was afterwards deified. Now
the children offer up to Ten Jin their early attempts at writing and
pray to him for help in the difficult task which has been set before
them. The sacredness of the art of writing attaches even to pieces of
paper with written characters on them; the Japanese do not allow
them to be trampled into oblivion, but carefully pick them up and
religiously burn them.

What is our American view of writing? We consider illegible and
careless writing a thing to boast of. You have all read Mark Twain's
story of the letter from Horace Greeley, and I need not repeat it to

JAPANESE WRITING

279

Fig. 2. Manner of Fixe Writing.

illustrate the point. The story is told of Kufus Choate that he wrote
three hands ; one which he could read and his clerk could not, one which
his clerk could read and he could not, and one which nobody could read.
Of a certain well-known Baltimore clergyman it is stated that he could
not read his own manuscript twenty-four hours after he had written it.
Similar anecdotes might be collected by the hundred. It does not
matter whether they are literally true or not; the fact remains that
the humorous way in which bad writing is treated shows that the gen-
eral public sentiment regards poor writing as a thing to be proud of
rather than otherwise.

Writing is to us a means of communication to be used as econom-
ically as possible — the biggest amount of communication with the least
expenditure of pen-energy. Of course, from this point of view the
best writer is the typewriter, and when typewriters are cheap enough
we can expect the school-children to be taught typewriting instead of
pen-writing.

28o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

This commercial view has brought it about that writing is no
longer on a level with spelling; bad writing is excusable, but bad
spelling never. This careless and frivolous treatment of the art of
writing is, I maintain, an ill-bred trait of national character which we
should endeavor to correct on the principles followed by the Japanese.

In Japan writing was regarded as one of the six arts of education.
By the six arts were meant the postures, writing, riding, shooting,
mathematics and music. The object of these arts was to teach the
control of both the body and the mind. By writing, the control of
the arm, hand and fingers was to be taught. The Japanese use the
" Fude," a peculiar kind of brush made of the soft wool of the white
rabbit. Fig. 1 shows the position for large writing. The long roll
of paper is held in the left hand ; the characters are written downward.
The stone block on which the stick ink is rubbed in water is shown on
the table. In the first stage of writing they have to learn to write
large letters and characters. When they want to write large characters,
it is forbidden to support the arm on the table or anything else. The
movement of the arm must be entirely free in both the horizontal and
the vertical direction. Not only are quickness and steadiness of
movement required, but the arm is trained also to graceful movement
and slow adjustments. Now a bold stroke is demanded and then a
hesitating touch of the brush is required. It is said that " Sometimes
the stroke of the brush must be as rapid and as dreadful as the light-
ning in the sky, but sometimes it must be as gentle and as graceful as-
the young virgin in her private apartment."

In the second stage of writing they have to learn to make smaller
characters. Here again the arm must be free; but in this case one
point of the wrist is supported on the table, or more properly on the
row of fingers of the left hand laid on the table (Fig. 2). This point
serves as a fulcrum for the movement of the hand and fingers. The
object of finer writing is not only to train the fingers, but also to train
the eye. So they are sometimes required to write characters not larger
than a millimeter square. Even in writing such a small character,
every jot and every tittle must be brushed according to a definite form
of writing and by a single stroke.

We must change our American views of writing. In communi-
cating by speech a well-bred person tries to avoid mutilations and
transformations of language that might be offensive to cultured ears.
The New Englander tries to save his g's, the Southerner to keep his
r's, the Englishman not to drop his h's. In communication by writing,
however, you may insult your correspondent by characters over which
he has to puzzle long to derive any meaning; you may flaunt slovenly
y's and g's and b's before his face; you may offend his nostrils with
the garlic of reversible n's and u's, etc. This is quite wrong. Let,

JAPANESE WRITING

281

your " Dear Sir " and your " Yours truly " speak their meanings in
their forms as well as in their spelling; treat your friend with the
politeness of legibility and feed your correspondence-guest with a meal
of words more than half done.

t

6-
s.

t
%

-%

4}

r;

k

n

Fig. 3. Specimens of Writing.

It is especially when we consider writing as the expression of our-
selves that we understand the Japanese feeling toward it. The voice
and the hand are two great means of expressing what is in us. Our

282 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

thoughts, our instincts, our very natures find expression in the tones
of the voice; we are familiar with the effeminate voice, the manly voice,
the sympathetic voice, the mean voice. Our hands also tell similar
stories, hut we have never learned to recognize them because we have
not thought the matter worth considering. No facts whatever are yet
settled concerning the relation between character and writing, yet that
need not trouble us. It is a well-established law that our mind seeks
expression by movements and that the practise of the movements tends
to confirm the condition of mind that produces them. Certain atti-
tudes are connected by repetition with devotional impulses; the mere
assumption of such an attitude will arouse the same impulses. The
careful putting of our best instincts into our writing on every occasion
can not but have some of the moral effect attributed to such a practise
by the Japanese, and the constant effort at clearness, correctness and
gracefulness in expression must inevitably have some influence on our
inner selves.

THE PBOGRESS OF SCIENCE

283

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF
HERBERT SPENCER

Spencer's " Autobiography," stereo-
typed during his lifetime and published
in two large volumes shortly after his
death in December, 1903, is now fol-
lowed by two further volumes, a '' Life
and Letters," prepared by Dr. David
Duncan in accordance with a clause in
Spencer's will which read as follows :
'" I request that the said David Duncan
will write a Biography in one volume
of moderate size, in which shall be in-
corporated such biographical materials
as I have thought it best not to use
myself, together with such selected
correspondence and such unpublished
papers as may seem of value, and shall
include the frontispiece portrait and
the profile portraits, and shall add to
it a brief account of the part of my
life which has passed since the date at
which the Autobiography concludes."

Dr. Duncan, who was Spencer's sec-

retary and assistant for two years in
the late sixties and was subsequently
in India as professor of logic at Mad-
ras, had a task made extremely diffi-
cult by the preexisting autobiography.
This, like all Spencer's works, makes
a different appeal to different minds;
some find it tedious, while to others
it is of absorbing interest. In any
case it is a work of genius written by
a man of genius. It is so full and
complete that most of the material of
real interest had been used, except for
the last years when Spencer was a
confirmed invalid and found his own
life wearisome.

Spencer says: "It is a provoking
necessity that an autobiography should
be egotistic." As a matter of fact the
autobiography emphasizes the egotistic,
the priggish and the petty sides of his
character much less than does the biog-
raphy, while the true largeness, sin-
cerity and kindliness of the man emerge

■

H

■..

M

m

1

Is?

>

m

Herbert Spencer when nineteen

Herbert Spencer when forty-six

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

285

in the autobiography more clearly than
in Dr. Duncan's pages. Indeed the lack
of skill and tact in the biography gives
the impression of a tinge of malicious-
ness. It is all very well to reproduce
the accounts of Spencer's amiable
foibles, given by Mr. Galton and Lady
Courtney, but it is scarcely necessary
to quote the letter according to which
Carlyle called him " an immeasurable
ass," and the amount of space given to
his attitude towards the honors he
declined, to his misunderstandings
with Huxley and Harrison and to the
difficulties about his portrait is out of
proportion to their significance. It is
proper to quote Spencer as writing:
" Twice or thrice I have taken up
Plato's Dialogues and have quickly
put them down with more or less irri-
tation," but then it seems scarcely
desirable to close the biography with
" What Professor Theodor Gomperz
says of Plato may be said of Spencer,"
etc. The care that Spencer took about
his autobiography and biography com-
pared with Darwin's belief that his
autobiographical sketch would be of
interest only to his children places in
sharp relief a real difference in char-
acter which is fully confirmed by all
we know of the two men. Still, -the
inference may fairly be drawn that it
is better for the reputation of a great
man to have his biography written by
his son than by his private secretary.
It would not be possible in a brief
note to select material from the " Auto-
biography " and from the " Life and
Letters " which would give any impres-
sion of Spencer's life and character,
and it is of course out of the question
to attempt to expound, appreciate or
criticize the vast contributions to
philosophy and science which have had
such a large share in making the evo-
lutionary standpoint dominant every-
where. Readers of this journal are
familiar with Spencer's work, for he
contributed to it nearly a hundred
articles. It was indeed established by
Dr. E. L. Youmans in 1872 largely

with a view to provide a suitable
medium for printing Spencer's " Study
of Sociology," and the Popular Sci-
ence Monthly may be regarded as one
of the by-products of his genius.

The " Life and Letters " is published
by Messrs. D. Appleton and Company,
who for fifty years have been perform-
ing an important service by giving to
American readers authorized editions
of the works of Spencer, Darwin and
Huxley. By their courtesy we repro-
duce the accompanying portraits.

THE FINANCIAL STATUS OF THE

PROFESSOR IN AMERICA

AND IN GERMANY

The second bulletin of the Carnegie
Foundation for the Advancement of
Teaching, issued under the title given
above, contains information that is of
interest not only to those who receive
salaries from American colleges and
universities, but also to all those who
realize that the future of our civiliza-
tion depends largely on ideals of service
and research for which the university
is the natural home. There is no more
important question than how the best
men can be drawn to the universities
and how they can be led to do their
best work. The part played by salaries
in accomplishing these objects is not
obvious. It might be that large sal-
aries would attract the wrong kind of
men and lead them to spend their time
in unwise ways. Ecclesiastical and
military organizations, which in the
past have developed the ideals of loy-
alty and service which should now be
found at our universities, have not
been dependent on salaries, though
office and honors have played a con-
siderable part. In an industrial dem-
ocracy, however, it seems that men are
likely to be esteemed in accordance
with their incomes, and if the office of
professor is to be made honorable it
must be well paid, or at least certain
positions must exist that are highly
paid.

The statistics in regard to salaries

286

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

now published by the Carnegie Founda-
tion give details for 103 institutions
paying $45,000 a year or more in sal-
aries, to the instructing staff, and of
54 smaller institutions which were
selected as showing that good results
can be obtained with comparatively
small resources. The average salary
of the full professor in the hundred
leading institutions is about $2,500,
varying from about $4,800 to about
$1,400. Higher salaries are paid in a
few cases, but salaries of $5,500 at
Harvard or $5,000 at Columbia are
practically the maximum money prizes
open to teachers. These prizes are not
open to free competition; for in' this
country a professor can as a rule only
reach the highest position in his own
institution. In this regard, the Ger-
man method of calling a man freely
to what is regarded as a better position
has certain advantages. A professor
may be called to Berlin at the age of
sixty, receiving a higher salary and a
more honorable position than any that
we have, and this possibility may be a
stimulus to good work. Here a man
who receives the average salary of
$2,500, at the average age of appoint-
ment of 35 years, is not usually able
to look forward to further promotion.
His expenses increase, especially if he
has a family, and he finds himself less
well off than the successful physician
and lawyer in the same town, who are
continuously increasing their incomes
and the material advantages they can
give to their children.

The Harvard plan seems on the whole
to be the best hitherto put in practise
in this country. After a graded series
of promotions and increments of salary,
a full professorship is reached at the
average age of forty with a salary of
$4,000, and the salary is increased by
$500, at intervals of five years, until it
reaches $5,500. If a man shows un-
usual ability — ordinarily it must be
acknowledged by being called elsewhere
— he may be promoted more rapidly
than in accordance with the usual

routine; in general, however, the sal-
aries are not in proportion to ability
or to needs, but are equal with slowly
increasing increment. This method
and the system of pensions gives se-
curity and dignity to the office. It is
an open question whether the lessening

] of competition and ambition which it

j favors is a good or an evil.

The comparison of the salaries given
by different institutions should result

i in the improvement of conditions where
these are unsatisfactory. Thus Syra-
cuse University pays its assistant pro-
fessors an average salary of $978 and
its full professors an average salary of
$1,808, and in its non-professorial de-
partments has one instructor for
twenty students. Haverford College
pays its assistant professors $2,240 and
its full professors $3,440 and has one
instructor for six or seven students.
These are extreme cases, but there are
many anomalies in the tables. It is
of course true that the effective salary
is dependent on the cost and standard
of living. A salary of $2,000 in a
small town may have as much pur-
chasing power as twice that amount in
>Jew York City.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS
We record with regret the deaths of
James Duncan Hague, the American
geologist and engineer ; of Anceto-
Garcio Menocal, an eminent Cuban en-
gineer in the service of the United
States government; of Mr. Arthur
Lister, F.R.S., known for his work on
the mycetozoa ; of Mylius Erichson, the
Danish explorer; of Dr. F. Noll, pro-
fessor of botany at Halle, and of Dr.
Oskar Liebreich, professor of pharma-
cology at Berlin.

Pkofessor George E. Hale, direc-
tor of the Solar Observatory of the
Carnegie Institution, has been elected a
foreign correspondent of the Paris
Academy of Sciences in the place of the
late Asaph Hall. — Count Zeppelin, on
the occasion of his seventieth birthday,
has been awarded an honorary doctor-

See the article by Dr. Philip B. Hadley in the June issue

288

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ate of science by the University of
Tubingen. He has also been made an
honorary citizen of the cities of Con-
stance and Stuttgart, and has been
given the gold medal for art and
science by the King of Wittemberg. —
M. Bouchard has been elected presi-
dent of the Paris Academy of Sciences
to fill the vacancy caused by the
resignation of M. Becquerel to become
permanent secretary. M. Picard suc-
ceeds M. Bouchard in the vice-presi-
dency.

The monument in honor of Robert
Bunsen, designed by Professor Volz, of
Karlsruhe, was unveiled at Heidelberg
on August 1. — The German emperor
has supported the medical and scien-
tific men in Berlin in objecting to the
form of the monument designed in
honor of Virchow. It is not a statue
of Virchow, but introduces as the chief
group a symbolic representation of his
lifework, in the form of a struggle be-
tween a giant and a fabulous beast,
while on a pedestal a medallion por-
trait of Virchow is placed.

The San Jacinto Valley in Cali-
fornia will hereafter be known as the
Cleveland National Forest. It has
been so renamed by President Roosevelt
in honor of the president under whose
administration the first national for-
ests were created. In 1897, in honor
of Washington's one hundred and sixty-
nfth birthday anniversary, and upon
the recommendations of the National
Academy of Sciences, President Cleve-
land created thirteen national forests,
containing about 23,000,000 acres. The
San Jacinto forest was one of the orig-
inal thirteen so created.

In connection with an article by Dr.
Philip B. Hadley on Johannes Miiller,
printed in the June issue of the
Monthly, there was reproduced a
portrait, which it appears was of
Johannes von Miiller, the Swiss histor-
ian. Our attention was called to this
error by Professor George H. Parker,
of Harvard University, by whose cour-
tesy we are able to give a portrait of
the great German physiologist.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

OCTOBER, 1908

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA1

By Dr. J. W. SPENCER

WASHINGTON, D. C.

1. First Reference to Niagara — Champlain. — A few weeks hence
there will be celebrated the three-hundredth anniversary of the founda-
tion of the city of Quebec, by the Great Champlain. Out of this grew
the Dominion of Canada. Although the establishment of the little
settlement on the St. Lawrence River made Champlain most famous,
it is not in this that his chief greatness lay, but rather in his wonderful
explorations in the lake region of the interior of the continent, through-
out a long life spent in the wilderness.

Jacques Cartier had ascended the St. Lawrence in 1535 and again
a few years later. Champlain followed in his tracks as far up the
river as Montreal (in 1603) five years before the settlement of Quebec.
From the summit of the old volcanic mountain at Montreal he saw the
first or Lachine rapids of the St. Lawrence, above which he could discern
the smooth water of the expanded river, now known as Lake St. Louis.
Here he received accounts from three different Indians as to the nature
of the country beyond. Their communication must have been largely
carried on by signs and diagrams, drawn on the sand. Although the
first volume of Champlain's works is extremely rare, the accounts were
transcribed by Lescarbot in his history of New France, published soon
after, in 1609. The description of the rapids and various lake-like
expansions of the St. Lawrence, the Thousand Islands, Lake Ontario,
the occurrence of Niagara with its rapids, and Lake Erie reaching to
Lake Huron "beyond which no man had been," were all so complete that
a navigator unimpeded by hostile Indians could easily have found his
way. But the natives were hostile, so that Lake Huron came to be
known long before Lake Erie and the Niagara River.

2. First Account of Niagara Rimer. — Champlain never saw Niagara,

1 Address before the American Association for the Advancement of Science,
June 30, 1908.

vol. lxxii. — 19.

290

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SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 291

but on his map of 1632 he represents a long series of rapids, located at
the end of Lake Ontario, and says concerning them, "A very high fall
of water at the end of the rapids of St. Louis (a name given to Lake
Ontario) where many kinds of fish in descending are stunned." That
the river was famous among the Indians, on account of the falls, and
possibly among a few " Courreurs de hois " and missionary priests, is
certain, as Father Lalement, who first mentions its name (Onguaahra),
speaks of it as " so celebrated." This was in 1641, yet he does not
mention the falls. In 1645, Dr. Gendron wrote a letter about the falls,
but this was not published until 1660; in the meanwhile (1648) Father
Bagueneau mentions them as occurring on Niagara Eiver. This was
the beginning of the historic period.

3. Approaching Peril to Niagara Falls. — The Falls of Niagara are
now entering another and much more critical epoch in their history.
The time has not arrived when their use has become a necessity, and
even in their spoliation, other and larger interests are at stake. Niagara
is a world possession, yet its very existence is imperilled by the greed
of a few persons, or for the exigencies of politicians.

4. Commission for Investigation. — Extended operations were al-
ready at work upon the falls, when Dr. Bobert Bell, Canada's most
distinguished geologist, at the head of the Geological Survey, commis-
sioned me, three years ago, to make a complete investigation upon the
recession of Niagara Falls, so as to record the undisturbed work of
nature, and also to determine how far the falls could be diverted without
bringing about unforeseen disasters.

5. Opinions of Power Diversion. — At that time, in the opinion of
some serious observers, the falls were imperilled, and Dr. John Clarke,
state geologist of New York, pointed out the impending destruction of
the American Falls. There were also many sensational magazine
articles, bearing on the same subject, but in these no data were given
by which to form judicious opinions. On the other hand, those inter-
ested in the diversion of the water insisted that no serious damage would
be done. Personally I had no opinion whatever, though I regretted the
disfigurement of the falls, through the structures erected by the power
companies, one such being placed even beneath the cataract itself, inside
the Park Eeservation on the Canadian side, especially offensive as seen
from the American side (shown in a succeeding plate, figure 8).

6. International Waterway Commission established for saving the
Falls. — Before this time, the late Honorable Andrew H. Green had se-
cured the passage through Congress of a bill, authorizing the establish-
ment of an International Waterway Commission, his specific object
being the preservation of Niagara Falls. Indeed it was for this same
object that the International Park at Niagara had been established at
an earlier date, largely through the efforts of the Earl of Dufferin,

292 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Governor General of Canada, and Mr. A. H. Green, of New York, who
subsequently prevented the intrusion of all power structures in the
state reservation on the New York side, a policy unfortunately not fol-
lowed by the government on the Canadian side. Here even the park
was widened, at the cost of the falls, in curtailing their crest-line by
several hundred feet. Yet among those interested in the power com-
panies it was commonly said that they were improving the park ; a few,
who were powerless, seeing through this sophistry. That public opinion
was swayed by such representations is not to be wondered at, for at a
later date, April 26, 1906, the Canadian section of the commission states
that, " It would be a sacrilege to destroy the scenic effect of Niagara
Falls, unless and until the public needs are so imperative as to compel
and justify the sacrifice" (p. 102), and yet they suggest no cur-
tailment on the Canadian side. The report further says that, " It
is possible to preserve the beauty, and yet permit the development
on the Canadian side of the Niagara River " — of a certain amount of
power on which I shall comment later, but no data are given on which
the above statement is based. Indeed, I was unable to form any
opinion whatsoever until my own investigations were made, which were
begun before the proceedings of the International Commission, and
not completed until some time after the premature report, cited above,
appeared in print.

7. Results, the Outcome of Purely Scientific Investigations. — The
conclusions reached concerning the spoliation of the Falls of Niagara
are the outcome of investigations into purely scientific problems, and
a brief account of them may show more convincingly how these results
have been obtained. Just twenty years ago, I had the honor of an-
nouncing to this association the discovery that Lake Huron, with Mich-
igan and Superior as tributaries, formerly emptied to the northeast,
and did not discharge into a shrunken Lake Erie; and, consequently,
Niagara was then a very small river. Six years later, I again laid
before this association additional observations indicating that the falls
had receded nearly three miles, when the Huron drainage was turned
into Lake Erie; and with the fragmentary data bearing on the dis-
charges of the rivers, an attempt was made, with only partial success,
to determine the size of the original Niagara Eiver.

One of the chief problems of my latest investigations was to deter-
mine the volume of the Niagara Eiver in its early stages. It was not
a simple matter, for contradictions appeared in the data obtained, which
had to be eliminated. This involved the whole question of the physics
of the rivers, requiring months of labor to collect the data and analyze
them. In this connection, I found that the outlets of both Lake Erie
and Lake Ontario had been recently lowered, while Mr. Thomas Russel,
of the IT. S. Lake Survey, had previously made the great discovery that

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 293

the outlet of Lake Huron had also been lowered. This was the starting-
point of the investigation into the spoliation of Niagara. The channel
of the river had been deepened just after 1890, owing to natural scour
by the currents, the effectiveness of which was increased by the powerful
jamming of vast quantities of ice against the barriers at the Upper
Eapids, immediately above the falls, and to a small extent by the
shifting of the boulders on the river bed just below the outlet of Lake
Erie.

8. Corrections of Discharge Measurements. — The discharge meas-
urements had been made by the U. S. Lake Survey after the lowering
of the lake outlets had occurred, that of the Erie outlet causing the
subsidence of the lake level to nearly one foot. As the daily records of
the lake fluctuations have been kept for fifty years or more, it was
possible to determine the discharges of the rivers throughout that time.
Failing to take into consideration this lowering of the lake outlets,
the calculations of the river discharges prior to 1891 were excessive, and
those of Lakes Huron and Erie showed inadmissible differences; as also
found by Mr. Kussel. These discoveries reduce the calculated dis-
charge of Niagara Eiver, prior to 1891, by 22,000 cubic feet per second,
which would bring its volume from 1860 to 1890 into agreement with
the mean measured discharge for the fifteen years from 1891 to 1905,
inclusive, or 204,000 cubic feet per second; and the low water discharge
has fallen to 160,000 cubic feet. There have been years of high water
and others of low, yet by taking groups of years, the mean values are
remarkably uniform, but the latter period must not be regarded as one
of low water, a fact which I can not too strongly emphasize, although
the lake levels have actually been much lower than during the preceding
period, due, as just stated,- to the lowering of the outlets. Such years,
however, as 1901, showed very low water in Lake Erie, and reduced
discharge of Niagara Eiver.

9. Present very High Water. — In contrast with this, the lake-levels
during 1907 were extraordinarily high, increasing even till the present
month (June, 1908). Fragmentary information, preserved, indicates
that Lakes Erie and Ontario were unusually Ioav in 1819. The fuller
record of subsequent years shows that the highest water occurred in
1838, and nothing has been comparable to it until the present high
stages. Although these do not make the lakes appear to be now so
high as seventy years ago, this is because of the lowering of their
outlets and the further diversion of water for power purposes, both of
which, if allowed for, would bring the lakes to higher levels than at any
time since records have been kept. The 1838 period of high water
began in that year and continued until 1840, after which the lake levels
subsided to normal conditions. There is no reason to suppose that
the present extreme high-water conditions will continue longer than

294

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

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SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 295

on previous occasions, although I am aware of a statement by an engineer
holding a distinguished position, to the effect that we do not know that
the levels are going to recede. This appears to have been said for
politic reasons, as the pressure to further divert the water is very
strong.

There is much popular curiosity as to the cause of the high water,
which is not wholly explained by the rainfall. Mr. E. S. Wheeler, of
the U. S. Lake Survey, found in his elaborate study of the physics of
the rivers that changes could be produced by ice jams holding back
the discharge and raising the lake so high that upon the melting of
the snows together with spring rains, the waters could not run out
sufficiently fast during the ensuing season, so as to bring the levels of
the lakes to their normal condition. These effects could accumulate
during succeeding seasons so that the extraordinary stages might last
not merely one year, but for several years.

From the foregoing, it must be apparent to any one that no opinions
can be formed on power diversion which ignore the fluctuations of lake
levels, for as these vary, so do the discharges of the rivers. The mean
discharge of the Niagara Eiver for 1901, a year of very low water, was
14,000 cubic feet per second below that of the mean level from 1891
to 1905. This was after the abstraction of a certain quantity of water,
the exact amount of which is unknown to me, but probably not reaching
10,000 cubic feet per second. The mean discharge during 1907 reached
15,000 cubic feet per second above the average of the fifteen years
mentioned; this being after the artificial abstraction of nearly 18,000
cubic feet per second. Thus the entire diversion of the Niagara
waters has been not only concealed by the extraordinary stages of
the river, but a further quantity could be withdrawn without any
apparent effect upon the falls. The increasing discharge of Lake
Erie, during this year, reached the maximum on April 27, when it
rose to 60,000 cubic feet per second above the average of the fifteen
years mentioned, besides which the diversion was probably nearly
18,000 cubic feet ; so that the full use of the franchises of the present
power companies would not impair Niagara Falls to-day, but this
condition can not last, and it is unfortunate that it should occur at
this time, for the sake of those who are interested in the preservation
of the falls, as well as in the navigation of the lakes.

In studying the physics of Niagara Eiver, individual months or
single years can not be adopted as standards, but I have found that
satisfactory results can be obtained by taking groups of five-year
periods. Perhaps some other arrangement might prove better. This
has resulted in my adopting as standards of lake levels and river
discharges, the means of the fifteen years succeeding the lowering
of the lake outlets, and the present temporary high water will doubtless

296 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

adjust itself in the general averages, as on previous occasions, so that
we must consider the effects of power diversion under normal condi-
tions. As stated before, when the corrections are made in the discharge
calculations prior to 1891, they fall into harmony with those of more
recent date. These corrections do not appear in the work of any other
writer, but I find them necessary, in order to explain incongruities, and
to arrive at a satisfactory understanding of the effects of power diver-
sion on Niagara Falls and the Great Lakes. Under these conditions,
let us examine the physics of Niagara Eiver.

10. Basin above the Rapids. — Above Niagara Falls are the Upper
Eapids, descending fifty-five feet to the brink of the cataract. These
begin as the water passes over a rim of rock (see figures 2, 3, 5) which
crosses the river at the head of Goat Island. This is the " critical
point," not merely in the distribution of water over the falls, but also
in the level of Lake Erie, and indirectly of Lakes Huron and Michigan.
Except at one small part near the Canadian side, the rock rim is from
two to five feet higher than the rock-floor of the shallowest part of the
river, about seventeen miles above the head of the Upper Eapids, and
two miles below the outlet of Lake Erie. Throughout this distance
the river crosses a depression, refilled with drift, so that here the
channel itself was easily excavated to a much greater depth than across
the two rock barriers mentioned, thus forming, de facto, a basin begin-
ning with the narrows at the Buffalo Water Works, which are only
1,850 feet across, soon widening out into the broad stretches of the
river on either side of Grand Island, below which they unite into
another basin, over a mile wide, above Goat Island and its associated
rock rim. This from its greater height than at the Water Works, con-
stitutes the true rim of the Erie basin. The slope of the river between
these points is due to the narrowness of the outlet of the lake, where
the waters are so piled up that they have a velocity reaching to eight
miles an hour, while in the basin above Goat Island the current is
reduced, and is there from two to four miles an hour. The descent
of the river from the lake to the rock rim at the Upper Eapids is about
twelve feet.

11. Depth of Water on the Rim of Upper Rapids. — At mean stages,
the average depth of the water in the American channel, as it begins
to flow past Goat Island, is less than three feet, with a maximum of
4.5 feet. In the Canadian channel, for some 400 or 500 feet from
Goat Island, under present ordinary conditions, the water is only from
half a foot to one foot in depth, then for another stretch it increases to
between two and three feet, bej^ond which the river shoals, so that in
ordinary stages the water is seen to descend, not only in almost broken
streams, but it is so shallow that the floats which have been sent down
the river do not pass over the rock ledges, but are carried by the

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA

297

dividing currents on either side. Tims for perhaps half of the river
from the Goat Island side, I have estimated the mean depth of the
water over the rock rim as not exceeding two feet. Indeed, much of
it is not over a foot in depth. Nearer the Canadian side it increases
to nine feet (see figures 3 and 5).

Fig. 3. Profile of Rim of First Cascade, with forebay of Ontario Power
Company in foreground.

12. Portion of Falls in Immediate Peril. — As the river is so shallow
over the rock rim on the Goat Island side of the main channel, it forms
only a thin sheet of water on the eastern side of the Canadian or Horse-
shoe Falls, for a distance of 800 feet from the Goat Island end. In-
deed, from the changes already effected, this sheet of water has heen
reduced in depth by sixteen inches, thus in many places exposing the
shelf of rock over which the rapids are passing (figure 4). This por-
tion of the falls I had considered as being in most immediate peril, even
more so than the American Falls, but recent soundings, about the head
of Goat Island, show that a rocky floor extends almost across to the
main shore of N"ew York, which in the future must divert to a large
degree the supply of water from the American channel between the
island and the shore. Accordingly, the American Falls are in equal
danger with the eastern side of the Canadian cataract.

I hope that in this study of the physics of the river, the importance
of this rim has been sufficiently emphasized ; for any lowering of the
water in the basin, will cause the draining of the higher parts of this
rocky barrier, which extends nearly two thirds of the breadth of the

298

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 4. Eastern Side of Falls being drained.
ground is situated in the park on the Canadian side.

Power House in the back-

channel from Goat Island — thus affecting most the eastern side of the
falls. If.it were broken through, as it will be in the distant future by
the recession of the falls, the water in the basin would be immediately-
lowered, and the Upper Rapids would reappear as a cataract just below
the Buffalo Water Works, where the rock-floor is now seventeen feet
below the surface of the river, while at a mile and a quarter farther
down the drift has already been excavated to a depth of fifty-three
feet.

13. Artifical Openings now made in the Basin. — It is immaterial
whether the artificial enlargement of the orifice to the basin be made
across the rim, or from its sides, or from the bottom. One lateral
channel has been made for a breadth of 100 feet, and a depth of four-
teen feet below the surface of the basin. There is also a neighboring
one of about equal proportions. These made channels consequently
reach depths much below the general level of the rock rim. They con-
stitute the intakes of the two power companies on the New York side,
and were calculated to carry 14,500 cubic feet per second at low stages
(see map, figure 5).

On the Canadian side, the Ontario Power Company has installed
a peculiar structure at the end of the rock rim, above which the river
has a depth of five or six feet. Just below, at the natural edge of the
basin, they threw out a wall, forming a wing-dam of some eight acres.
This wall was brought to about the height of the river floor above.

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA

299

Fig. 5. Map showing the Position of the fikst Cascade and the Basin
whose Level is now being lowered by the Power Companies.

The effect of this is to extend forward the rock rim of the basin. Be-
hind this wall, they removed the rock floor, in some places to a depth
of seven feet, so that there is now a general depth in their dam of some
six feet below the surface of the barrier, over which the water flows
as if naturally. By taking the water from the bottom of the dam,
while the river is still flowing over the top, the same effect is produced
as if it were taken by a tunnel from any part of the floor of the basin
of the Upper Eapids, and so increases the discharge from the basin.

The franchise of the Ontario Power Company is about 12,000 cubic
feet per second, but works for only 4,000 cubic feet are completed.
Their franchise has not been restricted as have been those of the New
York Companies. The present amount of water due the New York
Companies, as restricted under the Burton Act, is 14,500 cubic feet
per second, although their franchises gave them 27,200 cubic feet per
second.

These detailed accounts are given to show unequivocally, despite
assertions to the contrary made to me by Mr. George C. Gibbons,
chairman and legal representative of the Canadian section of the com-
mission, that not only the older New York Companies, but also the
Ontario Power Company (the other Canadian companies' works being
below the rapids) must lower the water in the basin above the Upper
Eapids. Indeed, Mr. Gibbons signs the report stating that if the water-
supply were taken from Chippawa Creek, Lake Erie would be lowered,
as the supply would come from back-water derived from Niagara Eiver.
This back-water would be flowing from the same basin which has been

3oo POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

described, consequently there can be no difference whatsoever from what
point of the basin the water is diverted.

14. Water taken from One Side of Basin affects the Other Side. —
That water can not be taken from one side of the basin without affect-
ing the level on the other side is shown by the fact that, since the two
New York companies began operations, the depth of the river, which
is a mile across, near the mouth of Chippawa Creek, has been shoaled to
the extent of eight or ten feet by the deposit of mud, owing to the
slackened current in this part of the basin. So, also, when the power
of the Ontario Company comes to be fully used, they will lower the
water on the American Falls. Another proof of the diversion of
water from the Canadian shore by the New York companies is the
shoaling of the river just above the falls, where it was found necessary
to throw a barrier to catch the water for the small local power plant,
as the level of the river had sunk below the normal stage by the time
one of the larger Canadian power plants was ready to begin operations.

15. Power Diversion beloiv the Upper Rapids. — There are two other
power plants situated in the Canadian Park, but below the Upper Rapids.
Consequently, they lose much by their inferior head of water. This is
a great gain, in that, taking the water some fifty feet below the basin,
the overflow of the rim is not increased, so that this diversion produces
no effect whatever on the lowering of the lake levels, or on the American
Falls, or eastern side of the Canadian. These companies take the
water from the deepest part of the channel, and consequently their effect
is least apparent. Their aggregate allowance is about 20,000 cubic feet
per second, or a net of 235,000 electric horse-power. However, much
damage has been done to the western side of the falls, largely owing
to the Canadian Niagara Power Company, on account of which the
widening of the park has shortened the crest of the Horseshoe Falls
by 415 feet, leaving in place of the sheet of water, a dark wall of rock
stretching out into the gorge. It is strange that this impairment seems
already to be almost forgotten except by a few lovers of the great cata-
ract, but on looking at the Canadian Falls from the upper bridge the
effect is to reduce the diameter apparently by one fourth (see figure 1).

16. Water taken by Canals. — The Welland and Erie canals divert
less than 2,000 cubic feet per second, and, while the Chicago drainage
canal takes at present scarcely more than 4,000, its rights extend to
10,000 and they want 14,000. The diversion by the Chicago canal of
10,000 cubic feet produces varying effects in the different basins, but
it may be given at a lowering of the lakes by six inches, or some three
inches for the basin at the Upper Rapids.

17. Effect of Power Diversion on the Falls. — We are now in a posi-
tion to determine the effect of power diversion upon Niagara Falls and
upon the navigation of the lakes. The water taken from below the

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 301

rim on the Canadian side may be omitted from the present discussion.
This leaves a volume of 51,200 cubic feet per second, including that
of the Chicago canal, conceded under the franchises, though tem-
porarily limited to 44,500 cubic feet. At the beginning of 1908 there
were approximately only 18,000 cubic feet per second in continuous
use out of the amount affecting the basin (and this quantity may have
been considerably reduced from the shutting down of some works), yet
this diversion, together with the scour on the river, has lowered the
water in the basin, immediately above, so that its level is sixteen inches
lower than what it would have been, if no such changes had been
effected. Half of the amount is due to the diversion of the water.
It is this lowering of the water, just before passing the rim of the
basin, at the head of the Upper Rapids, which is causing the lowering
of the water on the falls, as shown in figure 4.

In confirmation of the above results, let it be stated that on June
14 a power company stopped its use of 8,000 cubic feet per second,
and this caused the water in the basin to rise six inches (the diversion
by the other companies and that of the Chicago canal was not arrested
at the time). At the edge of the American Falls the water rose 1.2
inches.2 At mean water much of the American Falls is scarcely more
than six inches deep. With the lowering from extraordinarily high
water to normal conditions, and the diversion increased in the future
to 44,500 or 51,200 cubic feet per second, taken from above the Upper
Rapids, the basin will be further lowered from twelve to sixteen inches
or more, so that much of the rim of the basin will be exposed, and
thus the flow of water will be largely cut off, not merely from the 800
feet on the eastern side of the Canadian Falls, thereby destroying that
part, but also curtailing the water on the American Falls to half its
present normal amount, which is only 5 per cent, of the total flow of
both cataracts. This will be still further aggravated during years of
low water, such as was 1901.

The preservation of the falls is now a question of inches. Under
the conditions as set forth, the whole of the Horseshoe Falls will have
shrunken from a crest line of 2,950 feet to 1,600 feet (including the
curtailment on the Canadian side), and their diameter will have been
reduced from 1,200 to 800 feet (see figure 6). They will then be

2 It was telegraphed all over the United States that the rise was only a
tenth of an inch, with congratulations of proof that no harm was being done
to the falls. The term tenth-of-a-foot is one which would be used by engineers,
but never in popular language, which depends upon inches. Hence the con-
clusion, jumped at, is partly explicable, especially by the promotion of power
diversion at Niagara. But the change of depth above the Upper Rapids is that
which determines the distribution and destruction of the falls. Besides, on the
day of test, the discharge was 25,000 cubic feet and also nearly 18,000 more for
power diversion above the normal discharge of Niagara River.

302

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 6. Niagara Falls., American Branch. The half of falls on the right side
of aa will be destroyed and that to the left damaged by full use of franchise amount.

ih> Joo 30a 4MF1*

Fig. 7. Map of Crest Line op Falls being shortened from 2,950 feet (in
1900) to 1,600 feet under Full Franchise Diversion ; and Diameter curtailed
from 1,200 to 800 feet. The remaining falls will be entirely in Canadian territory.

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 303

entirely within Canadian territory, as the boundary line will become
uncovered, leaving a narrow strip of rock between Goat Island and
the great cataract. If the full franchise be used, the American Falls,
which are 1,000 feet across, will have their southern half drained, as
in figure 7, and will be further broken up into narrow sheets or strings
of water.

Any attempt at restoring either the American or the eastern side
of the Canadian Falls, by deepening the channels on that side of the
river, would increase the velocity of the currents above and cause an
extraordinary demand on Lake Erie, the result of which would be the
lowering of its level at an enormous cost. The same physical changes
would subsequently take place in the Huron outlet as a consequence of
the lowering of the Erie level. The artificial deepening of the channel
would also increase the scour, not merely of the Niagara Eiver, but
also the St. Clair channel, which lies in deposits of sand and clay.

Until such time as the use of the water shall become imperative,
the preservation of the International Park and the falls is a very small
bit of luxury or extravagance compared with the value and cost of
great city parks, or even one of them, such as the Central Park of New
York. But there is also a commercial side to this question. The
yearly number of visitors to Niagara varies from 600,000 to 1,200,000
and the expenditure in transportation and at the falls is estimated
as reaching sometimes $25,000,000 in a single year, giving pleasure
and recreation to many people over the whole country. Are these
considerations to be set aside for the gain of a few companies, or for
political purposes?

A limited amount of power can be used without detriment to the
scenic effects. Under the Burton act, the two New York companies
are at present restricted to a developed capacity which is about half
their franchises. The Ontario Company's franchise has not been re-
stricted, although their present plant is developed to only one third its
prospective size (figure 8). The full use of their allowance will affect
the falls to an even greater extent than the Chicago canal, and bring
into prominence the impending disasters, after the full use of the water
at Chicago. The most strenuous endeavors are being made to extend
the spoliation of the falls to its utmost limit, and recently the Ontario
Company has sought permission to harness even the Whirlpool Rapids,
which are fifty-one feet in height and only a little less imposing than
the falls themselves. This company desires to obtain from twenty to
twenty-five per cent, of the flow of the river, or nearly 400,000 gross
horse-power, besides the privilege of disfiguring the gorge by their
structures, such as the one already placed below the falls, though this
at present is only one third of its prospective size, as shown in figure 8.
There are two other great power houses in the Canadian Park. Those

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POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 8. Ontario Company's Power House (270 feet long) immediately
below the Falls in the Canadian Park. This is only a third of the proposed
length ; even at present it is a most striking obstruction of the gorge, as seen from
the New York side.

on the New York side are not in the park and can not be seen from
the falls, but the eastern banks of the river below the park are crowded
with works.

18. Effects on Navigation. — The canals and harbors are much shal-
lower than they used to be. Several inches of this are due to the power
diversion, which, however, is not at present seen, owing to very high
water. The lowering of the level of the basin above the Upper Rapids,
increasing the slope of the river, and consequently the velocity of the
current, also lowers the level of the lake above. An increased dis-
charge of 22,000 cubic feet per second lowers Lake Erie by one foot.
On the large steamers in the carrying trade, each inch of draft repre-
sents a return of $100 in extra freight receipts. The canals and
harbors should not be reduced in depth by power diversions at a
time when there is a clamor for deeper channels. The impairing of
navigation, under conditions as shown above, threatens to reach two,
or even two and a half feet. Under the estimate made for the
American Section of the International Commission, the cost of repair-
ing the damage caused by the -Chicago drainage canal was found to
exceed $12,000,000, so that the total costs to both countries on account
of power diversion promises to reach twenty-five millions of dollars or
more. Are the power companies willing to pay for their share of this
costly franchise, and for the loss owing to the diminished business
going to and at the falls, which may reach $25,000,000 a year?

SPOLIATION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA 3° 5

Unfortunately in the Province of Ontario it has become a political
question, and there the government has adopted the Power Company
which is causing the greatest amount of damage, although they could
have obtained their supply from two other companies which are doing
relatively little harm.

A prominent man at Niagara Falls, X. Y., has expressed himself
as follows : " The subject of the diversion for power purposes is a burn-
ing question here, and a great number of unreliable and misleading
statements have been made by interested parties to justify the diversion,
stating that no damage will be done, and the work of Spencer " (refer-
ring to my recent book on the Falls of Niagara3) "is most timely in
giving the results of a scientific examination of the whole problem, with
the data on which the conclusions are based." In that work, the data
are brought down only to January, 1906, but this contribution is based
upon additional information extended to the present day, enabling
me to give fuller and more precise results than in the original work.

The preservation of the falls now depends upon the governments
at Washington and Ottawa. In the United States, apart from those
interested in the diversion of the water, there is a wide-spread sentiment
in favor of saving the scenic wonders of Niagara. But now another
interest joins hands with this, which is economic and of great magni-
tude, namely, the protection of navigation. It is to be hoped that
the national governments will so control the matter that this unique
world-treasure will be preserved for all time.

At the present time the commission recommends the use of 28,500
cubic feet per second for the two restricted American power companies
and for the Chicago drainage canal, while 36,000 cubic feet per second
are conceded to Canada.

3 " The Falls of Niagara," by J. W. Spencer, Geological Survey of Canada,
1907.

VOL. LXXII. — 20.

3o6

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGAKA FALLS

By RAYMOND H. ARNOT

ROCHESTER, N. Y.

-\TTOTWITHSTANDING the fact that the Niagara Falls region
-LN is chiefly celebrated by reason of its natural wonders, intel-
ligent people are gradually coming to understand that here are to
be found engineering works in the form of electrical-power develop-
ment plants which are unrivaled anywhere in the world, and electro-
chemical industries which are likely to grow of greater importance with
increasing knowledge of the electrochemical art.

When ground was broken in 1890 for the installation of the first
great power plant at Niagara Falls, the engineers in charge of the
project regarded the development of even fifteen thousand horse-power
of electrical current with grave concern because at that time economical
transmission of electricity over long distances was deemed hardly prac-
ticable and because the possibilities in the field of electrochemistry had
been to only a slight extent foreseen. Except in the minds of a few,
therefore, the utilization of any large amount of water from the
Niagara Eiver for the generation of power was held to be an under-
taking of doubtful wisdom at best.

However, within a comparatively short time after the determina-

Ontario Power Company, Niagara Falls, Ontario.

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGARA FALLS

3°7

Ontario Power Company, Niagara Falls, Ontario.

tion of engineers to install a large generator plant at Niagara Falls,
discoveries were announced in the field of electrochemistry which if
extensively developed would require the use of thousands of horse-power
of electrical energy, and these discoveries encouraged the promoters of
the great power project to believe that capital invested in the proposed
plant would not be spent in vain. Moreover, the perfecting of an
economical system of transmitting the electric current over consider-
able distances made it evident to engineers that very large quantities
of Niagara power could be utilized commercially beyond the immediate
vicinity of the power plants.

Two of the great power houses have been erected on the American
side of the Niagara Eiver somewhat over a mile from the crest of the
cataract. In order to take advantage of the potential energy of the
water and to afford an outlet for the water after its pressure has been
used, two wheelpits were excavated out of solid limestone and shale
about 177 feet deep, 18 feet wide and 450 feet long. Over each of
these wheelpits was constructed a massive power house to contain
the generators, switchboards, oil switches and other necessary appa-
ratus. Extending vertically down the wheelpits to the depth of
about 140 feet are hollow shafts to connect the generators on the
power house floor with the turbines or water wheels below. Eunning
parallel with each of the ten or eleven shafts in each power house is
an immense pipe, or penstock as it is technically termed, of seven and
one half feet in diameter through which water, after proper screening
to remove ice and other obstructions, is conveyed from the intake
canal to each turbine. After the large volume of water conveyed to

308 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

each turbine, under an effective head of about 140 feet, dashes against
the turbine blades, the water is disgorged into a subterranean tunnel
about 21 feet in height and over a mile in length, through which
the discharged water is conducted to the lower Niagara Eiver, just
below the abutment of the upper steel arch bridge.

The turbines, by means of the shaft connection, cause the gen-
erators on the power-house floor to revolve at the rate of 250 revolu-
tions a minute and to develop a two-phase alternating current of 5,000
horse-power.

Each generator with its connected turbine is entirely distinct from
the other generators and turbines, and can be stopped by shutting off
the water from the supplying penstock and by applying electrically
operated brakes.

Practically, the whole tremendous weight of each generator, shaft
and turbine is sustained by the hydrostatic upward pressure of water
conveyed in separate pipes from the level of the intake canal to a
compartment of the turbine wheel-case where the water presses against
the lower surface of a disc secured to the shaft.

To generate an electric current by dynamos a coil of wire must
cut the lines of magnetic force emanating from a magnetic field. It is
immaterial whether the coils of wire (or armature) revolve around the
magnetic field or the magnetic field revolves around the armature.
For mechanical reasons, however, all the great generators at Niagara
Falls are constructed so that their magnetic fields shall revolve about
the coils of wire (the armature).

After the generators have developed the electrical energy the cur-
rent controlled by appropriate switching devices is transmitted to the
power tenants in the immediate vicinity and to the more distant
tenants in Buffalo, Lockport and elsewhere. Where power is delivered
to tenants within a short radius of the power plants, the current is
transmitted at the generator voltage, but where power tenants are
situated at such distances from the generators that electric current
could be transmitted only at considerable loss at the generator voltage,
it becomes necessary for economical transmission to increase or " step
up " the voltage of the current by passing the electrical flow through
transformers. A transformer by means of primary and secondary
coils of wire of different diameters wound around a laminated iron
core and with windings in a fixed ratio to each other may increase
or diminish the voltage of a current according as an increase or a
diminution of voltage may be necessary. The voltage of the current
delivered in Buffalo is about 22,000, but as it would be obviously
impossible to utilize so great a current pressure the electricity in Buf-
falo again passes through transformers where the voltage of the current
is reduced to that required in the electric light and electric car
service and for other power purposes.

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGARA FALLS

3°9

Power House No. 1, Niagaka Falls Power Company (American side).

Power House No. 2, Niagara Falls Power Company (American side).

3io

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

On the Canadian side of the Niagara Eiver are three great power
plants which are now generating about 160,000 horse-power, but which
will ultimately develop nearly 400,000 horse-power. The Canadian
generators are of much greater capacity than those on the American
side and develop from' 10,000 to 12,500 horse-power each. Two of
these plants are built over wheelpits like those described on the Amer-
ican side and one of the companies in order to release the water used
in its turbines has constructed under the Niagara Eiver a tail race
tunnel, the portal of which discharges directly beneath the Horse
Shoe Falls.

The Ontario Power Company by erecting a power-house at the level
of the lower river and near the foot of the Horse Shoe Falls and by

Canadian Niagara Power Company's Power House.

conveying water through an eighteen-foot conduit from an intake canal
above the falls has obviated the necessity and the great expense of
building a wheelpit for the utilization of the water pressure and has
acquired for its turbines practically the full head of water between
the upper and lower rivers, a difference in level of approximately 175
feet.

Directly above the Ontario Company's power-house the great
eighteen-foot conduit is tapped by penstocks nine feet in diameter
which convey the rushing water to the blades of the turbines. The
generator attached to each turbine is thereby caused to revolve at the
rate of 1871/2 revolutions a minute. Each generator weighs 231 tons
and develops an alternating current of 10,000 to 12,000 horse-power at
12,000 volts, much of which is transformed to a voltage of 60,000 and
transmitted with comparatively small loss over aluminum cables to
Eochester, Auburn and Syracuse, a maximum distance of 160 miles.

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGARA FALLS

3"

Entrance and Spillway House, Ontario Power Company, Niagara Palls, Ontario.

The uses to which electrical power is put in the city of Niagara
Falls are most interesting. In 1886 Charles M. Hall, at the age of
twenty-two and fresh from Oberlin College, devised a process for the
inexpensive production of aluminum. Prior to Mr. Hall's discovery
aluminum though the most abundant of all metals was united to other
elements in such a way that a separation of the metal from its com-
pounds was very difficult and correspondingly expensive.

Mr. Hall's process for obtaining aluminum from its ore is a re-
duction or cleoxidation process by electrolysis. Into a carbon lined
vat or " reducing pot " extend carbon cylinders. The vat is partly
filled with powdered cryolite, a beautiful white mineral mined in
southern Greenland. When the electric current passes, the resistance

Power House No. 1 and Power House No. 2 and " Step up " Transformer House
in middle, Niagara Falls Power Company (American side).

3I2

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Edward G. Acheson,
Discoverer of Carborundum, Artificial Graphite and Siloxicon.

to the passage of the current offered by the cryolite transforms into
heat sufficient electrical energy to fuse the cryolite. Into the fused
cryolite is poured calcined and purified bauxite in powdered form.
The oxygen of the purified bauxite combines with the carbon of the
anodes or positive poles of the electrolytic cell to form carbon monoxide
and carbon dioxide gases and the aluminum is withdrawn in an almost
chemically pure state. Since the cryolite serves merely as a solvent
for the bauxite from which the aluminum is obtained and is unaffected
by the electric current, the reduction of bauxite is continued indefinitely
by pouring into the reducing pot enough bauxite to supply the place
of that reduced.

Another electrolytic process in use at Niagara Falls is the produc-
tion of caustic soda. The demand for caustic soda in many industries
such as soap-making and paper-making is so great that an inexpensive
way of producing this important alkali is imperative. The process is

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGARA FALLS

3J3

Charles Martin Hall,
Inventor of the Electrolytic Process for reducing Aluminum Ore.

comparatively simple. Into an electrolytic cell is poured common salt
in solution. "When the electric current passes through the brine the
salt is separated into its constituent elements, chlorine gas and the
metal sodium. The chlorine gas is evolved at the anodes of the cell
and being led off combines with slacked lime to form chloride of lime
or bleaching powder. The sodium unites or reacts with water to
form sodium hydroxide or caustic soda.

When Moissan, the great French chemist, perfected the electric
furnace he gave to scientists an easy way of producing a temperature
which far exceeds that of ordinary fuel and even that of the oxy-
hydrogen flame, and which made possible new and useful combinations
and dissociations of matter obtainable in no other way than by the
use of intense heat. The electric furnace is used at Niagara Falls in
the manufacture of several new and important products.

Among the many recent discoveries in the field of electrochemistry

3*4

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

"4 .

Longitudinal and Transverse Views of Power Houses, showing wheelpits,
generators, shafts, turbines, penstocks and discharge tunnels.

that of carborundum in 1891 by Mr. Edward G. Acheson is of great
practical value. This new product is made by chemically combining
in the intense heat of an electric furnace of the resistance type common
sand and ground coke. After the charge has remained in the furnace
for about thirty-six hours in a temperature of over 7,000° Fahrenheit,
the resulting combination is found in a beautiful crystalline form.
Carborundum ranks next to the diamond in hardness and is therefore
used as an abrasive. In its so-called amorphous form it is used as a
substance of great refractory power.

Metallic silicon, which is largely used in the steel industry to
absorb the gases of the molten steel, is made at Niagara Falls by a
deoxidation or reduction process. Ordinary sand and ground coke are
intimately mixed and subjected to the heat of an electric furnace.
The carbon combining with the oxygen of the sand is evolved as carbon
monoxide gas; the residue is the element silicon in almost chemically
pure condition.

Another of Mr. Acheson's useful discoveries is the production of
graphite by artificial means. Graphite is carbon, but not the only
form of carbon. Carbon exists in the amorphous form as in coal,

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGARA FALLS

3*5

AV

r&T

" Step up " Transformer Plant of Canadian Niagara Power Compant.

Transformer plant of Niagara Palls Power Company.

11,000-volt Switchboard and Bars in " Step up " Transformer,
plant of Canadian Niagara Falls Power Company.

charcoal and lampblack; in the crystallized form as diamond, and in
the graphitic form as graphite. Until the discovery of a process for
making graphite out of amorphous carbon the only source of supply

3i6

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE INDUSTRIES OF NIAGARA FALLS

3l7

lay in graphite mines such as those in the United States, England
and Cevlon.

Artificial graphite is now made from any amorphous carbon which
contains an admixture of some carbide forming substance and though
other carbonaceous substances are used anthracite coal has been found
to be the most satisfactory and economical carbonaceous material from
which to make graphite.

Graphite is made by heating anthracite coal to a very high tempera-
ture, approximating 7,500° Fahrenheit. Into a long fire brick furnace
is placed anthracite coal and through it a carbon rod passes. The
heat generated by the resisted passage of the electric current through
the charge is so great that practically all the impurities of the coal are
volatilized, leaving its carbon content in the graphitic form.

Mr. Acheson has lately perfected a process whereby artificial
graphite can be treated with gallotannic acid in such a way as to pro-
duce graphite so fine that it is well nigh molecular.

In the year 1892 it was accidentally discovered that if ordinary
quicklime and coke were fused together, the resulting chemical com-
bination would, by the addition of water, produce an illuminating gas
of great brilliancy. The gas formed in this peculiar way is acetylene
gas and the material from which it is generated is calcium carbide.

Calcium carbide is made at Niagara Falls by placing an intimate
mixture of about three parts of powdered quicklime to two parts of
powdered coke into an electric furnace of the so-called arc type. The
current of electricity generates an intense heat which chemically
combines the calcium of the quicklime with the carbon of the coke, the
oxygen of the quicklime uniting with some of the carbon to form
carbon monoxide gas which escapes.

It is interesting to know that the discovery of calcium carbide was
almost simultaneously announced by two independent workers in elec-
trochemistry, Moissan, the great French chemist, and Thomas L.

Eighteen-foot Conduit, Ontario Power Company. Niagara Falls. Ontario.

3*8

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Willson, an American. Willsons discovery of calcium carbide, how-
ever, antedated Moissan's announcement by about six months.

At Niagara Falls are also to be found an immense paper mill
which produces annually thousands of tons of newspaper made from

Carborundum Furnace with Charge
ready for heating.

Carborundum Furnace while Charge is

being Heated, showing carbon monoxide

gas issuing from side of furnace.

spruce logs reduced to the proper consistency by the mechanical and
the chemical or sulphite process, a plant where lead is economically
separated from its ore by electrolysis, a laboratory where vanilla and
other natural extracts are successfully prepared by synthetic chem-
istry, and furnaces where bauxite is crystallized into an extremely hard
substance for abrasive purposes.

From the foregoing survey of some of the industrial enterprises at

Carborundum Furnace with Walls

removed after Heating, showing

blocks of crystalline carborundum.

Electric Furnaces of the Resistance

Type in which Artificial Graphite

is made.

Niagara Falls it is evident that that region is a very important electric
and electrochemical center and that it is destined to increase in im-
portance with every new discovery in the electrochemical art.

THE CLASSIFICATION OF MATHEMATICS 3*9

THE CLASSIFICATION OF MATHEMATICS

By Professor G. A. MILLER

UNIVERSITY OP ILLINOIS

--

HERR VALENTIN", of Berlin, who has been working on a general
mathematical bibliography for more than twenty years, esti-
mates that the total number of different mathematical works is about
35,000 and that about 95,000 mathematical articles have appeared in
the various periodicals.1 The present rate of growth of this literature
is so rapid that, without increasing the amount per year, the next
fifty years would produce more than the total produced from the
earliest records to the present time. Without some means of classifica-
tion this vast store of knowledge would have little value from the
difficulty of finding what is wanted. Before entering upon a de-
scription of any details of classification I shall make a few remarks
on some of the terms of classification which are familiar to all; viz.,
arithmetic, algebra and geometry.

About three years ago Sir Oliver Lodge published an unusual work
under the unusual title " Easy mathematics, chiefly arithmetic, being
a collection of hints to teachers, parents, self-taught students, and
adults; and containing a summary or indication of most things in
elementary mathematics useful to be known." This title is followed
by a no less unusual preface, whose tenor may be inferred from the
following quotation : " The mathematical ignorance of the average
educated person has always been complete and shameless, and recently
I have become so impressed with the unedifying character of much of
the arithmetical teaching to which ordinary children are liable to be
exposed that I have ceased to wonder at the widespread ignorance, and
have felt impelled to try and take some step towards supplying a
remedy." The main reason for referring to this work in this connection
is to call attention to what appears to be a very common use of the
word arithmetic, as including most but not all of the mathematics
which the average educated man should know.

Efforts to arrive at a much more accurate definition of the term
arithmetic are apt to meet with disappointment. On the one hand, we
meet with contradictory classifications among works of the highest
authority. The great mathematical encyclopedia which is being pub-
lished almost simultaneously in German and French includes determi-
nants under arithmetic, while the International catalogue of scientific

1 Felix Mueller, Bibliotheca Mathematica, Vol. 7 (1907), p. 416.

32o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

literature places determinants under algebra. If one were inclined to
adopt the common definition that arithmetic is the science of the rela-
tions existing between numbers, one would be perplexed by the fact
that the theory of groups of finite order is classed with arithmetic in
the encyclopedia mentioned above, while it might be difficult to name
any other mathematical subject which makes less direct use of numbers
than this theory does.

Although these conflicting uses of the term arithmetic preclude the
possibility of formulating a definition which is in accord with the usage
of all of the prominent mathematicians, yet this term presents very
much less serious difficulties than that of algebra from the standpoint
of giving an acceptable definition. All are agreed that the four
fundamental operations with natural numbers constitute a part of
arithmetic. In fact, all that is generally studied in the elementary
schools under the title of arithmetic is now universally regarded as a
part of this subject, even if the Greeks called it logistica and dignified
what is now generally known as higher arithmetic, or number theory,
by the term arithmetic. While it might be difficult to find anything
which was included under the term arithmetic during the entire his-
toric period of mathematics, it is not difficult to find things which are
now universally accepted as parts of this subject.

When we come to the term algebra, on the contrary, it seems im-
possible to find any common ground. If we think of algebra as a
generalized arithmetic in which numbers are replaced by symbols which
may have any numerical value, we are perplexed by such statements
as " In arithmetic it is customary to represent any number whatever
by a letter, it being understood that this letter represents the same
number as long as the same subject is under consideration."2 On the
other hand, if one were inclined to consider the elements of the theory
of equations as the peculiar sphere of algebra, the recent standard
encyclopedia of elementary mathematics by Weber and Wellstein,3 in
which simple and quadratic equations are classed under arithmetic,
would imply that such usage was not universal among eminent authori-
ties.

Coming to the term geometry, we encounter scarcely less trouble.
On the one hand, we find it advocated that geometry should be recog-
nized as a science independent of mathematics, just as psychology is
gradually being recognized as an independent science and not as a
branch of philosophy,4 while, on the other, we find that the Paris
Academy of Sciences uses the term geometry as a synonym for pure
mathematics. In the one case, the term geometry is used for what is

2 " Encyclopedic des sciences niath§matiques " (1904), p. 22.
1 Published by B. G. Teubner, Leipzig, Germany.

4 Bocher, Bulletin of the American Mathematical Society, Vol. 11 (1904),
p. 124.

TEE CLASSIFICATION OF MATHEMATICS 321

not regarded as mathematics, and, in the other, it is supposed to com-
prise all that is generally included under the term mathematics. With
such a wide range of usage among eminent authorities it is evident that
an acceptable definition is hopeless.

These instances appear sufficient to emphasize the fact that the
terms arithmetic, algebra and geometry have no definite meanings in
mathematical literature. They may be compared with the names of the
constellations, which attract the attention of the amateur but are not
generally taken very seriously by the professional astronomer since their
boundaries are not defined with clearness. Just as it may be difficult to
establish a connection between the figures represented by the names of
some of the constellations and the arrangement of the brighter stars in
them, so it is difficult to see much connection between the meaning of
the terms arithmetic, algebra and geometry, and some of the subjects
classed under these heads. In a growing science it is very desirable to
have some elastic terms — terms to which we assign broader and perhaps
even different meanings as our knowledge advances. In fact, the term
mathematics is itself preeminently one whose meaning is a matter of
slow development, even if we accept such brief definitions as mathe-
matics is the science of saving thought, or " mathematics is the science
of drawing necessary conclusions."

The fact that many things which appear unrelated when studied
superficially exhibit the most intimate connections when viewed from
a higher standpoint has doubtless been a potent cause of the variety of
usage as regards general terms of classification. There are no natural
lines of division in mathematics. In fact, one of the most attractive
phases in the development of mathematics is the discovery of the rela-
tions existing between what was supposed to be unrelated. In other
words, the unifying of mathematical truths is one of the chief concerns
of many of the workers in this domain. Although the elements of
arithmetic, algebra and geometry appear sufficiently distinct to the
beginner, the marks of distinction vanish one by one as one proceeds
in following up the ideas starting from these centers, as is evidenced
by the term analytic geometry, since analysis and algebra were syno-
nyms for Newton, Euler and Lagrange.

Notwithstanding the fact that there are no natural lines of division
in mathematics, classification is essential and need not be entirely
artificial; for, marks of differences which are only superficial are,
nevertheless, worthy of note and frequently furnish convenient centers
for groups of very closely related ideas. Both subject-matter and
method offer many such superficial marks of difference which are
utilized for the sake of classification. As we go away from these
centers we naturally reach facts which seem equally closely related to
more than one center, and in such cases it is necessary to have either

VOL. LXX, III — 21.

322 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

a duplicate or an artificial classification. For some purposes, such as
arranging books on shelves in a library, the former is not feasible, and
hence arises the constant opportunity of complaint on the part of
those who use libraries with a view to obtain all available facts along
certain lines. This opportunity is inherent in the subject and hence
must exist under the most ideal conditions, but it is sometimes made
more apparent by the fact that books are not always classified by those
who are as familiar with the subject-matter as their authors were
at the time of writing.

Although the present active period in mathematical development
has exhibited many relations between subjects which appeared to be
unrelated, yet it has been still richer in exhibiting new centers of
developments which promise to be useful, and hence it has called for a
great extension of classification headings, as may be seen from the 1908
edition of VIndex du repertoire bibliographique des sciences mathe-
matiques. In order that a method of classification should give promise
of usefulness for a long period of time, it must therefore be so con-
structed as to admit readily of indefinite extensions. This is a char-
acteristic property of the two important methods of classification which
have been adopted after international conferences, viz., VIndex du
repertoire just mentioned and the International Catalogue mentioned
above. The former of these provides for an indefinite extension of its
fundamental headings by using the capital letters of the Roman
alphabet with various exponents to represent these headings. On the
other hand, the International Catalogue divides all mathematics into
four parts, in addition to a general heading for history, periodical,
general treatises, etc.

In the first five annual issues of the International Catalogue these
four parts into which all mathematics is divided bore the following
headings: Fundamental notions, algebra and theory of numbers,
analysis, and geometry. In the last issue of this catalogue the first
of these headings is replaced by arithmetic and algebra, in accordance
with the decision of the international convention of 1905. The term
algebra now appears in two of the four headings, and, if it is remem-
bered that the theory of numbers is higher arithmetic, this term is
implicitly in two of these four headings. This is another evidence of
the vagueness of the terms arithmetic and algebra as used in some of
the best mathematical literature of the present day, and seems to imply
that these terms, especially the former, are more and more devoted to
those fundamental notions which are most prominent in the later de-
velopments, or have the most frequent uses in related sciences. As the
science grows some things which are now classed with analysis or
geometry will naturally be put under other headings.

While it might be impossible to advance good reasons for dividing

THE CLASSIFICATION OF MATHEMATICS 323

mathematics into exactly four grand divisions, yet a small number of
divisions offers advantages by furnishing names which will generally be
remembered and by emphasizing the connection between extensive de-
velopments. It is true that the names of these grand divisions do not
have a very definite meaning, but they have some meaning, and they
exhibit something of the tenor of the various branches whose names
are too numerous and appear too erudite to the average educated man.
Instead of simply saying that one is working on Ausdehnungslehre it
may be some satisfaction to add for the benefit of the uninitiated that
this is a kind of algebra, and thus established language contact even if
thought contact is out of question.

A question of more general interest is the number of parts into
which mathematics is divided in the final classifications. The answer
to this question gives some idea of the fractional part of the entire
literature which must be examined by one who is seeking all that is
known along a particular line. The last issue of the International
Catalogue contains only about two hundred headings, so that one
would have to look over one two-hundredth of the total publications
of the year in order to find all that had been written during the year
on a subject comprised under a single heading. In this respect Vlndex
du repertoire is much superior. In fact, the last number of the Revue
semestrielle des publications matliematiques, which follows this index,.
classifies the publications under about seven hundred headings, and, a&
a large number of headings have no entries during one of the periods
of six months, it would frequently be possible to get at all the literature
which appeared on a particular subject during a period of years by
examining less than a thousandth part of the total mathematical litera-
ture of the period.

The preceding paragraph relates to the classification of current
literature. The classification of the total literature is in a much less
satisfactory condition. The magnitude of this work may be inferred
from the facts that Muller's Mathematisches Vocabularium contains
more than ten thousand technical terms used in pure and applied mathe-
matics and that it is not exhaustive. As most of these terms relate to
concepts which either are or may become the centers of a series of
closely related developments, we can predict no limit to the number of
headings under which the mathematics of the future will be treated.
In fact, if we adopt the view that mathematics consists of creations as:
well as of discoveries, considerations as to limits become very vague
even if they do not lack interest.

Professor Sylvester once called himself the mathematical Adam in
the proud consciousness of having named a large number of algebraic
concepts and that these names had become more or less current among
his colleagues. While technical terms are useful for the sake of classi-

324 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

fication yet the number of such terms may become so large as to justify
the criticism of Hankel that the stately mathematical structure re-
sembled the tower of Babel. The proper time for the introduction
of new technical terms and new heads of classification must depend
upon the good judgment of the workers in this field, it being remem-
bered that terms and classifications are secondary matters, although by
no means useless, and that the main thing is to extend the domain of
knowledge, especially where the beauty or usefulness of the results
assure them a permanent place in the intellectual wealth of the world.

A large variety of classifications may prove serviceable to the in-
vestigator. Sometimes an author's catalogue may render the best
service, while at another the grouping together of a large number
of related things as is done in the Jalirbuch uber die Fortschritte der
Mathematik, where pure mathematics is divided into only fifty parts,
renders the most valuable service. At still another time, the dictionary
arrangement under thousands of terms, as it appears in the indexes of
large works, especially in the incomplete encyclopedia to which we
referred above, offers the most convenient method of arriving at the
desired information. Fortunately the current mathematical literature
is now being classified according to several different methods, each
possessing peculiar advantages for the different needs of the scholar.

The history of classification in mathematics is very old as may be
seen from the fact that the mathematical handbook of Ahmes, which
was written about 1700 B. C, already contains the divisions into
arithmetic, and plane and solid geometry. As this work bears the title
" Directions for obtaining a knowledge of all dark things," it would
appear that the observance of the distinction between arithmetic and
geometry may have been older than of that which separates mathematics
from the other sciences. In fact, even at the time of Plato, the term
mathematics included all scientific instruction and its more restrictive
meaning seems to have had its origin in the Peripatetic School. The
main divisions of the mathematical sciences during the Greek period
were: logistica, arithmetic, plane and solid geometry, music and
astronomy. One of the best known classifications of mathematics is the
Quadrivium of Boethins, viz., arithmetic, music, geometry and astron-
omy; and it is an interesting coincidence that the International Cata-
logue should have established a quadrivium of pure mathematics, as was
observed above.

Among the general terms of classification, that of analysis is prob-
ably the least familiar to the non-mathematician. All have some idea
of arithmetic, algebra and geometry from the context of elementary
text-books bearing these names, but it is not customary to place the
term analysis on the cover of an elementary text-book in the English
language. Perhaps this is due, in part, to the fact that our secondary

TEE CLASSIFICATION OF MATHEMATICS 3*5

mathematics does not generally involve the concept of derivative, which
was introduced into French secondary instruction in 1902, and has
proved successful in that country as well as in some others where it
has been tried. From a historical point of view analysis is merely an
extension of algebra. It has already been observed that for Newton,
Euler and Lagrange analysis and algebra were synonyms, and the
present significance of the term analysis may be inferred from the
fact that the most familiar subjects that are now generally comprised
under it are differential and integral calculus and the theory of func-
tions. „

It may be desirable to add that the aim of the present article was to
convey some idea of the extent and nature of the modern mathe-
matical developments, from the standpoint of classification. While
this standpoint reveals only the outside yet this side is worth knowing
and is apt to awaken some thoughts in regard to what may be within.
As the use of machines has revolutionized the material world, so the
use of mathematics has revolutionized the efficiency of thought in re-
gard to problems whose solution is sufficiently elementary to come
under known developments. As these developments proceed they pro-
vide for greater efficiency and wider applications. The analogy between
mathematics as a machine of thought and an ordinary labor saving
device known as a machine can be traced through many points of
interest. It should, however, be emphasized that the real mathe-
matician is the inventor of such machines, but not the machine itself.

326 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION l

By Pbofessoe JOSEPH JASTROW

UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN

THE community of spirit that animates such occasions as this is
an interest in the academic life — a conviction, studied or casual,
sincere or perfunctory, that much of what makes life worthy has its
source here. What more appropriate than to discuss the status quo,
with a view to discover what forces are making for and what against
the vital concerns of academic welfare?

Psychologically, I can not endorse the platitude that silence means
consent. As I have tried to interpret this eloquent if enigmatic ex-
pression, it has appeared to mean complacency, even indifference; it
means hesitation and timidity; it means expediency and temporizing;
it means torpidity or denseness of understanding. Hence the way of
the reformer is hard. It is upon that ill-paved road that I am to
venture, and with no other warrant than a common interest, to invite
companionship.

The general silence in the academic ranks is hardly a convincing
proof that all's well; nor is the silence wholly unbroken. The litera-
ture of protest is growing; and the murmur of discontent may be
plainly heard by the sympathetically attuned ear. To appreciate the
atmospheric conditions that prevail in the academic grove and that
at times impress and oppress the dwellers therein with the suspicion
that they have inherited a vale of tears with a bad climate, requires
some familiarity with the general features of the habitat. To begin
with, the grove itself is no longer the peaceful retreat amid cloistered
walls and quiet walks, to which the bookish fancy of the uninitiated
and the impervious imagination of the reporter are so fondly attached.
The trolley clangs by its portals; the noise and dust of the city per-
vade its corridors; the unhedged campus is criss-crossed by throngs
of eager invaders seeking a short-cut to learning. The guileless,
absent-minded, root-grubbing professor, absorbed in profitless didactics,
survives only in those lingering echoes of receding ages — the comic
papers. The American professor desires to live in the world and to
assume responsibilities and privileges according to his capacity. He
cherishes ideals not of scholarship alone, but of service — worthy, dig-
nified, and by higher standards profoundly useful. Compositely

1An address at the Collegiate Conference in connection with the seventy-
fifth anniversary of Oberlin College, June 24, 1908.

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 327

(I ignore the pardonable exception of those still overawed by their
own doctor's dissertations), he entertains no illusion that the fate of
culture rests in his hands. He recognizes the many forces that sym-
pathetically with his own endeavors are making for a common goal.
He recognizes with deep concern the many other groups of influences
that display the lure of cheap success, that crowd out the nobler,
calmer virtues by an insistent demand for immediate returns, and
bring the money-changers back into the temple of learning. Thus
coming to his own, looking backward for the benefit of experience,
looking inward for the illumination of what might be, he is embold-
ened at times to look forward to a future in which shall be more freely
realized the career that he cherishes, to a release in greater measure
from the hampering restrictions amid which he has become resigned
to adjust his own service.

A sensitive barometer of the academic atmosphere is to be found in
what we have learned from the Germans to call Lehrfreiheit; but
which as made in Germany is by no means a cheap article or easy to
secure. This delicate instrument must be adjusted to each climate;
and to read its indications is something of an art. The facetiously
inclined like to repeat the dictum that Boston is not a city, but a state
of mind; but so is every locality with a title to distinction. America
is a state of mind; the university reflects, fosters and imbibes states
of mind. The state of mind marked on the intellectual map as
academic freedom is difficult to localize. One is tempted to say that
it is bounded on the north by the overshadowing mountains of the
check-book, on the east by the tidal waves of current opinion, on the
south by the chain-and-compass survey of past generations, on the
west by the undrained marshes of political venture. Its contours are
evasive and shifting. It is best recognized by the cultures it favors
and by the serenity and charm of its landscape. The condition it
implies is much more than the untrammeled freedom to teach fear-
lessly what reason finds true or holds plausible. It is a declaration
of the right of this domain to develop its own academic life, academic
liberty and academic pursuits of happiness.

The university's conception of its own function and the develop-
ment of men and measures to further its own aims, naturally and
properly reflect, as they have ever reflected, age and people and con-
dition. But loyalty to its own ends as conceived with such wisdom as
the leaders of men could command, was and is indispensable to the
academic life. The purpose must be large, the service comprehensive,
the honors worthy, the career attractive to enlist the life-long devotion
of ability, character and ambition. The loyalty concerned flourishes
only when those who bring it feel themselves spiritually akin with the
larger life with whose fortunes they have linked their own. It is

328 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

because old-time and old-land universities embody such traditions of
loyalty and service that we, so distant in our pursuits, yet wander with
profound appreciation in their ancient halls.

But we are modern of the moderns; and nothing is more charac-
teristic of our heritage of all the ages than the critical analysis with
which we plan and conduct our efforts. The sense of the comprehen-
sion of progressive motives and rivalry of influences has been deepened,
indeed reconstructed, by the insight into evolutionary procedure that
reached its first articulate expression just fifty years ago. The obliga-
tion of such insight is the duty to inquire into the forces which we
shall strengthen and which antagonize, that we may remain masters of
our fate. The evolutionist is neither a fatalist nor a stand-patter;
he sees, foresees and directs, and he does this with the sobriety result-
ing from an historical conscience, and with the faith in the privilege
of rational leadership. We of the academy accordingly hold to the
law of the grove; that a university ancient or modern is wholly and
vitally an educational institution; that the aims for which it exists are
cultural; that its methods must be shaped by its own standards; that
the activities of those devoted to its welfare must be freely developed
from within and suitably to the cultivation of the ends for which the
university alone exists. Eeduced at once to its lowest and to its highest
terms, the university is and can be nothing else than an assemblage of
men united in the sympathy of pursuit and inspired by community of
interest and a common loyalty. That the university shall attract such
men and find in them the medium of her purposes, and that such men
shall seek the university and find in her the enduring incentive to their
best endeavors : this is the ideal that serves as the criterion of the worth
of practical measures which now we approach.

We, the American people, have developed or accepted a type of
university administration, to which there is no close, hardly a distant,
parallel elsewhere. On a former occasion, having in mind the some-
what harsher aspects of the system, I called it government by imposi-
tion. Professor Stratton has since then proposed the more acceptable
term, externalism. It is then a well-known fact that our universities
are governed by boards of trustees or regents, with complete legal
authority over the measures proposed by the faculty, over the status
of the professors individually and collectively, and always indirectly,
usually directly, over educational policies, over the larger complex
issues that determine the spirit and the conditions of university ad-
vance, and naturally over the ways and means contributory to the
realization of all this. In many institutions no act of the faculty is
valid unless confirmed or reviewed by the board. For example, so
irrelevant an issue as a case of student discipline sends an appeal to
the board over the heads of president and faculty, with the not infre-

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 329

quent result that there is imposed on the faculty by direct command of
the board tedious and humiliating reexaminations of a situation already
properly disposed of by suitable committees. The formal statement
that educational matters shall be in the hands of the faculty is for the
most part evasive or ineffective. Since most matters have both aspects
— financial and educational — and since the faculty can not or does not
determine what measures it prefers to consider, its influence in these
directions varies from a conceded control so long as no opposition is
evidenced, to something merely nominal.

Such externalism of government more than any single influence has
brought about the growth of another peculiarly American institution —
the university president. I need not enlarge upon the heroic propor-
tions which this majestic figure has assumed among us. It has led a
professor, sympathetic with the present plea, to say that the American
university has a Brobdignagian president and a Liliputian faculty.
Professor Stratton regards the organization as derived from that of a
colonial corporation — the financial control reserved by an absentee
board in the home country, and the president representing the governor
sent to the colony to direct its concerns. This historical setting may
invest the organization with some interest, but it can not divest it of
its dangers, nor does it account for its continuance and emphasis. Let
me cite from the article to which I refer : In a country that politically
is most jealous of democratic rights, "university government has
assumed a form that we might have expected to see in a land accus-
tomed to kings. European universities have a constitution that might
have come from some American political theorist; American universi-
ties are as though founded and fostered in the bourne of aristocracy ."
" The American university president holds a place unique in the his-
tory of higher education. He is a ruler responsible to no one whom he
governs, and he holds for an indefinite term the powers of academic
life and death." " The polity that we might call monarchic is thus
not only frequent in the new-world colleges, but it is stripping away
the few lorn shreds of popular control which still remain among them."

The state of mind that has entrenched this unsuitable form of gov-
ernment so securely may readily be analyzed. The factors contributory
to the result are several and diverse. There is a peculiarly democratic
distrust of the man who knows. To call a man an expert is almost
sufficient ground for a suit for libel. Conversely there is the glorifica-
tion of the man who does, without too close examination of the merit
of what he does and how he does it. Our captains shall be captains of
industry. Business acumen in the popular mythology is Jupiter and
Mars and Vulcan compositely, and properly lords it over the affairs of
Athena and even of Venus. The Olympian council comfortably settled
in revolving chairs in the lofty seclusion of a skyscraper summons

33° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Apollo to make his report and engages the Muses at modest stipends
upon condition of good behavior. But in truth there is no danger
that the very important services of liberal-minded men of affairs to
the maintenance of our universities will go unrecognized. The asso-
ciation of such a body as a board of cooperation is at once high token
of regard for a high type of citizen, and is of definite benefit to the
institution concerned. This contribution of external cooperation is
quite in keeping with the genius of our national practical sense. The
great and overwhelming misfortune is that its function has been so
wholly misunderstood in the light of legal authority and of a popular
conception growing out of relations in the business life wholly unre-
lated to what must and should obtain in the academic world. When
the board recognizes that the university is not a business concern; that
it has laws of its own; that the faculty alone can determine the mode
of advance within the university, that the position of a professor is
that of a counselor, free, authoritative and independent, there will be
no externalism in the objectionable sense, but only external coopera-
tion. American conditions are individual. We can not copy either
the English or the German mode of government. We can secure our
own type of efficiency without sacrifice of what is the essential end of
all institutions of learning. Hence boards have their place, but a
place determined by the subservience to the cultural ends of the uni-
versity, which must ever be paramount. Business procedures must be
secondary to educational ones; those who control the former should not
in the least control the activities, status and decisions of those entrusted
with the educational conduct of the university.

Dominated by this business view — even in its comparatively en-
lightened form — comes an imperious demand for results, tangible,
visible, audible to the popular sense. The curve of the annual fresh-
man crop must not compare unfavorably with that of the other in-
digenous products of the soil; new departments with smart heraldings
must be added ; the catalogue must put on pages of adipose tissue ; the
campus must suggest the inspiring appearance of a western town site.
If a stranger had been present at a memorial exercise which I have in
mind, he would have concluded that the deceased had been a mason
contractor and not a college president. The addresses dwelt with loving
fondness upon the buildings erected during the administration, giving
the area of the floors in square feet and the cost in dollars. Now quite
apart from the conspicuous and vulgar extremes of this attitude, let it
be acknowledged in a meek confessional spirit that enough of it obtains
in the best of our institutions to decidedly guide the direction of activi-
ties and warp them away from the path of true academic progress.
This factor helps to account for both externalism and the exaggerated
contours of the presidential silhouette.

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 331

As thus analyzed, the situation is explicable, in part even justified.
As evolutionists we bear in mind the rapidly shifting, indeed the un-
precedented character of the conditions in which our academic practises
have been evolved. Under such conditions organization must be elastic,
initiative open, adjustments ready to meet emergencies. Power is nat-
urally concentrated in a few, even in a single hand ; and once more, the
democracy of our ideals asserts itself in the keeping in touch with
popular demands of what academic service may be expected to supply.
But it is still more true and very much more significant, in so far as
this is an excuse, that we have outgrown all that, except where the
frontier still holds. The time is here for most of. our universities and
is close at hand for the rest, when we must cease to ask special con-
sideration for our educational provisions. "We are not a weakling nor
an unfortunate people. Let our universities stand as worthy embodi-
ments of our national resources comparable with those of other lands,
as do our railways, our factories or our public library system. This
is not a matter of time, but of tradition. Some of the foremost of the
German universities are about as old or younger than the college whose
anniversary is now observed. But the traditions under which these
were established and under which they have developed are decided
traditions of the supreme right of Lehrfreiheit and of the great dis-
tinction and worth of the academic career. If such is to obtain amongst
us we must develop perceptions keen to that which is educationally
sound, to what is culturally good; we must trust implicitly those who
have these perceptions; we must secure for the career devoted to this
cause, honor, encouragement, responsibility, authority and a suitable
living.

From whatever side we approach the situation we reach the same
conclusion, for the factors thereof are of a nature all compact. We
measure academic success by unsuitable standards, derived from the
market-place ; and as a consequence there is a sorry contamination even
within the fold. That the professor has not been able to withstand these
several influences must with like frankness be confessed. The law of
the grove is compromised, evaded or forgotten. Professors become
statistically minded, dwell upon sizes of classes, offer inducements for
the hesitant student, seeks the favor of those in power and further the
ends preferred by those who mete rewards. We find them also dis-
couraged by the unfair struggle for existence, with everything rising
except the price of postage stamps and professors' salaries ; we find them
acquiring a disturbing interest in commercial ventures; we find them
losing the finer qualities of their service because of the trying elements
in the intellectual climate. The excuse is not far to seek. When men
of the academy find, as years go by, that their own preferment is largely
determined by utility, not in direct development of their personal

332 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ability ; their activities too constantly dominated by an oppressive sense
of accountability ; when even their bread and butter is imperiled ; when
they are subjected to the humiliation of having others pass them by
who have yielded where they have stood steadfast, who is there shall
cast the first stone?

I had hoped to carry through my purpose without once more ex-
posing the collegiate family expense account to the patronizing scrutiny
of the affluent publi«. But, alas ! it may not be. Bear with me in a
brief " aside." The lack of proportion between the professor and his
salary is regrettable yet remediable. More regrettable and I fear more
difficult to remedy is the mode of determination and adjustment of
such honorarium. Yet in this as in all related adjustments enlighten-
ment is to be found in the common principle of academic supremacy.
Here more than anywhere else must commercial encroachment and
standards be resisted, not meekly, but strenuously. It seems plausible
that if an incumbent of a professional chair is worthy to sit in the
cathedra, he is worth the provision of a suitable living. The professor
must not ask more nor for other reasons ; the university must not offer
less nor guide its offer by extraneous considerations, least of all of
those that obtain in the auction room or the stock market. Professor
Palmer says very plainly that Harvard University pays him for
doing what he would gladly pay the university for the privilege of
doing; and most professors pay and pay dearly for the privilege of the
academic life. So let it be. But persistently and evasively are
academic standards ignored, and ignored by those who do and those who
do not understand. All honor to the few — alas the very few colleges,
but among them the worthiest in the land — that have retained an
academic adjustment of salaries. In the main, the influence of the
college presidents has in no direction been more baneful, more in-
sinuatingly subversive of what other merit their services have brought,
than in this practise of speaking of supply and demand, the meeting of
emergencies, the offset of a call from another institution, and a
spurious attempt to apply a doctrine of merit and prizes. When a
university president regards himself — a mere mortal — as capable to
translate academic worth into dollars and cents even to the fraction of
a dollar per weekly wage, I do not know whether to regard his position
as an educational alchemist as sublime or ridiculous. I confess that it
is astounding to me that men in this position, of such high attain-
ments, such clearness of vision and sterling virtues, should maintain
such a large and efficient blind spot when contemplating the salary
question. Many a fellow professor in the mellow confidence of a grow-
ing intimacy has confided to me that he looks upon the attempt to
apply such a procedure to himself as a farce, an affront or an evasion.
Usually it is the last; for the answer given to Professor A is not that

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 333

given to Professor B; while Professor C, but recently refused recog-
nition, finds that his merit has risen several points because his stock is
quoted higher at a rival university exchange. Not thus is academic
loyalty furthered. The salary question is a most disturbing factor of
the academic situation; and the cure is prevention. Most of the
irritating situations must not be allowed to arise; the ones that legiti-
mately find their place will be suitably solved under a suitable system
of principles ; and the president's life, if he wishes it, will be a happier
one. An equalized system of comfortable salaries fixed for the pro-
fessorship and the scale of living of the environment, will dispose of
this question and leave all freer to devote themselves to what their
functions demand. I do not advocate for the good of the academic
life the existence of large rewards or special prizes, though I deem it
for the good of the community to thus manifest its appreciation of
academic service. I agree with President Eemsen that once the pro-
fessor is relieved from financial worry the cause would not be par-
ticularly benefitted, though the professor might be pleased to receive a
larger income. It is thus clear that the procedure by which incomes
are to be determined and adjusted follows directly from the principles
that show the way to remove far more difficult though not more
irritating disabilities of the academic life.

President Eemsen's remark laid him open to a retort which was
promptly made : that a president would not be injured though he might
be pained by having his salary reduced to that of a professor. The dis-
paragement between the appraisal of academic and of administrative
service is yet another and a serious misfortune of externalism. It
affects not presidents alone, but deans, and heads of departments; it
diverts unusual talents into unprofitable channels; it obstructs many
of the byways of academic activity. It is thoroughly bad in appear-
ance or reality to countenance the view that the only or the normal
method of rising is by assumption of administrative powers. It is
equally bad to encourage the popular misconception o*f academic serv-
ice by throwing the limelight either upon administrative position or
upon athletic prowess or upon any but the central purpose for which
the university exists. It was far different in the older simplified col-
lege, in which the president was commonly the leader of the faculty,
the embodiment of the spirit of the institution, distinguished for just
what the academic sanction of the day approved, and quite incidentally
an administrator. To-day when the office seeks the man, the search is
for one with executive taste or pioneering ambition; and when the
man seeks the office, it is too commonly because he likes the disposition
of authority and the enjoyment of movement with no oversensitiveness
to the jar or other disquieting accompaniments of locomotion. I do
not for a moment imply that the university presidency is other than

334 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

a most honorable career, or that the incumbent should set aside the
honorable satisfactions of high office. I do imply that a president who
in any way uses the university as a means of personal exaltation is
abusing his office ; I do imply that such success even when most deserv-
ing and well directed is too dearly bought when it is paid for, as
commonly it is, by the mutilation of the academic efficiency, often the
personal unhappiness of many a professor. I imply more than this :
that the spirit in which the presidency should be assumed is not wholly
different from the attitude which I heard a progressive American
demoiselle prescribe for her mother as a most effective way to encourage
the social success of her daughters; namely, to efface herself except
when summoned. Now I am not approving this rule of conduct; I
am but suggesting that a large measure of this spirit of depersonaliza-
tion, somewhat more loftily conceived, shall dominate all who serve the
administration of the grove. Administration must ever be second ; and
often must it be last. Academic perspective can be retained only by an
advancement to the foreground in every presentation of scientific in-
sight, educational wisdom and commanding personal quality, by the
retirement to the background of all auxiliary services however essential,
difficult or worthy, so that those within and without shall see, hear
and understand. Once more let me cite the testimony of another
(Stratton) : "We exalt administrative ability above scientific insight,"
which should not be. Universities " should be the last to typify in
their own structure the thought that discovering truth and imparting
the vital principle whereby others may discover it are of a dignity less
than that of organizing and management."

I can not better reenf orce the scattered contentions of my plea than
by gathering a few citations from one and another who, surveying the
same sets of influences in which as it seems to me lies the future
strength or weakness of the American universities, have brought away
a similar and even less hopeful outlook. Professor Cattell regards with
special concern the autocratic domination that externalism brings and
the deterioration of character that follows in its wake:

The individual has once more been subordinated, crudely commercial
standards prevail, and control has been seized by the strong and the unscru-
pulous. Those of us who are not ashamed to express faith in democracy regard
all this as a temporary phase, which will only last until intelligence has devel-
oped equal to the complexity of the environment. The only real danger is that
instincts may become atrophied before reason is ready to take their place. The
trust promoter and insurance president, the political boss and government
official, the university president and school superintendent, have assumed
powers and perquisites utterly subversive of a true democracy. The bureauc-
racy is defended on the ground of efficiency; but efficiency is not a final cause.
To do things is not a merit regardless of what they are, and bigness is not
synonymous with greatness. There is no ground for hopelessness. Of the things
done the good may last and the rest may be eliminated; bigness may become
greatness.

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 335

Yet this tinge of hopefulness tends to fade when the same writer

records that the

Czar of Russia has restored to the professors the right to elect their rectors
and deans at the same time that the trustees of one of the largest American
universities have taken the vested right to elect their deans from the faculties
without even asking their opinion or communicating to them their fiat.

The same writer says:

The administration imposed on universities, colleges and school systems
is not needed by them, but simply represents an inconsiderate carrying over of
methods current in commerce and politics. The private institutions of the
east, with Chicago and Stanford, have been dependent on gifts from the modern
knights of industry, and the state institutions have been dependent on legis-
lative appropriations. It is no wonder that the methods of commerce and
politics have infected them. We have an absolute and absentee board of trus-
tees, with sometimes a small group that takes an active interest in the situa-
tion, but usually an almost complete delegation of legislative, judicial and
executive functions to one man, the president. When the wisdom of letting
a man lord it over an aggregate of employees instead of conferring with a
company of scholars is questioned, the answer is the efficiency with which the
autocrat gets things done. The president gets money and students, and builds
marble palaces. . . . The marble palaces may be mausoleums for the preserva-
tion of the corpses of dead ideas and monuments erected to the decay of
learning.

Another student of the field — not a professor — wholly disinterested
and surely unprejudiced tells us that

Young men of power and ambition scorn what should be reckoned the
noblest of professions, not because that profession condemns them to poverty,
but because it dooms them to a sort of servitude.

And again:

Unless American college teachers can be assured that they are no longer
to be looked upon as mere employees paid to do the bidding of men who, how-
ever courteous or however eminent, have not the faculty's professional knowl-
edge of the complicated problems of education, our universities will suffer
increasingly from a dearth of strong men, and teaching will remain outside the
pale of the really learned professions. The problem is not one of wages ; for
no university can become rich enough to buy the independence of any man who
is really worth purchasing.

Lastly I shall cite at length and should like to cite in full a notable
editorial in the Dial. The writer notes, as do others, that the vital
difficulty lies in our mode of thinking about these problems :

Material and commercial modes of thinking prevail so largely in our
national consciousness, and impose themselves so masterfully upon our nar-
rowed imagination, that most people are ready to accept without hesitation
their extension into the domain of our intellectual concerns, particularly into
that of the great concern of education. Why, it is naively asked, why should
not the methods that we apply with such pronounced success to the manage-
ment of a bank or a railway prove equally efficient in the management of a

336 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

system of schools or a university? . . . These questions are not difficult to
answer but it is difficult to frame the answer in terms that the successful man
of affairs will find intelligible. The subject is one that he approaches with a
prejudiced mind, although his bias is not so much due to a perversity as to
sheer inability to realize the fundamental nature of the question at issue. He
is so fixed in the commercial way of looking at organized enterprise that he
can not so shift his bearings as to occupy, even temporarily, the professional
point of view. Now the idea of professionalism lies at the very core of educa-
tional endeavor, and whoever engages in educational work fails of his purpose
in just so far as he fails to assert the inherent prerogatives of his calling. He
becomes a hireling, in fact if not in name, when he suffers, unprotesting, the
deprivation of all initiative, and contentedly plays the part of a cog in a
mechanism whose motions are controlled from without. Yet the tendency in
our country is to-day strongly set toward the recognition of this devitalized
system of educational activity as suitable and praiseworthy, and the spirit of
professionalism is engaged in what is nothing less than a life-and-death struggle.
When a university president or a school principal can indulge unrebuked in the
insufferable arrogance of such an expression as " my faculty " or " one of my
teachers," when school trustees are capable of calling superintendents and prin-
cipals and teachers " employees," it is time to consider the matter somewhat
seriously, and inquire into the probable consequences of so gross a misconcep-
tion of the nature of educational service.

There is one general consequence which subsumes all the others. It is that
young men of character and self-respect will refuse to engage in the work of
teaching (except as a makeshift) as long as the authorities in charge of educa-
tion remain blind to the professional character of the occupation, and deal
with those engaged in it as objects of suspicion, or, at best, as irresponsible
and unpractical theorists, whose actions must be kept constantly under control
and restricted by all manner of limitations and petty regulations. Membership
in a profession implies certain franchise, an emancipation from dictation, and
a degree of liberty in the exercise of judgment, which most members of the
teaching profession find are denied them by the prevalent forms of educational
organization. And the denial is made the more exasperating by the conscious-
ness that these rights (which are elementary and should be inalienable) are
withheld by persons whose tenure of authority is more apt to be based upon
the executive energy or the ability of the schemer or the success of the man of
practical affairs than with expert acquaintance with the conditions of educa-
tional work. The " business " president or administrative board is bad enough,
and the "political" president or board is worse; yet upon the anything but
tender mercies of the one or the other most men who devote their lives to the
noble work of teaching must in large measure depend.

The inevitable consequence is ... to make the teaching profession more
and more the resort of the poor in spirit, to whom the words of the Beatitude
must have a distinctly ironical ring. To become a teacher in this country is,
except in the case of a few favored institutions or systems, to subordinate one's
individuality to a mechanism, and to expose one's self-respect to indignities of
a perculiarly wanton sort. Inadequate compensation is a grievous fault of our
educational provision, but it is not so grievous as the faults that undermine
professional self-respect, and sap educational vitality at its very root. Yet
these graver faults are easily remediable, and would be promptly remedied if
we could once rid ourselves of the obsession of the commercial or military type
of administrative organization.

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 337

These earnest words of endorsement and appeal will serve at once to
make it plain that the issue upon which I speak is a most serious one,
and that I look upon it with no extreme or wholly individual obliquity
of vision or personal despondency. I feel, indeed, that on a small
canvas, but with large import, I have ventured to sketch the one
supreme educational problem of the immediate future. Believing it
also to be a practical problem, to be approached in stages of progress —
stages always in their essence determined by principle, though meas-
urably shaped by expediency — I have reserved for the last some con-
siderations of possible reform.

And first, defensively, let us not dwell unduly upon the incompe-
tence, the conservatism, the inadequacy in practical affairs, of faculty
men. It is hardly consistent to ascribe these qualities indiscriminately
to the men of the academy, and then for the most part to find in this
group the very persons who develop with experience into efficient
administrators. As a class, professors are able to take a helpful share
in the shaping and carrying out of measures conducive to educational
welfare. Their practical insufficiency is a result, not an excuse, for
the present system. This has not been overlooked by other writers.

We appear at present to be between the Scylla of presidential autocracy
and the Charybdis of faculty and trustee incompetence. The more incompetent
the faculties become, the greater is the need of executive autocracy of the presi-
dent, and the greater the autocracy of the president, the more incompetent do
the faculties become (Cattell).

And from another:

But was there ever a more vicious circle of argument than that which
defends the persistence in a system productive of such unfortunate results by
urging that the personnel of the profession has now been brought so low that
the restoration of its inherent rights would entail disastrous consequences?
(Dial.)

Once given their due professional responsibility, academic men will
develop — as is abundantly evidenced in the conduct of laboratories and
departmental affairs — the qualities requisite for the service. The
ghetto into which externalism has driven them is admittedly the least
suitable habitat for the nurture of the qualities which they should
exhibit ; but is this an argument for the retention of the barrier ?

Let us hopefully, though not blindly, look forward to as adequate
a management — doubtless a simpler and saner management, with less
emphasis upon managerial factors — under internal as under external
control. And if there are losses, as there will be, let it be borne in
mind that there will be gains to offset these, endlessly more important,
in the near future as in the long run, indefinitely more worthy.

If we ask next, constructively, how shall this be brought about,
let me confess that I am somewhat fearful of a policy of gradual veer-

vol. lxxui. — 22.

338 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ing, of successive short tacks to each gust of shifting sentiment. By
all means evolution and not revolution ; but also by all means steer and
do not drift. If we are on the wrong track, let us manfully confess
it and set the compass to a different course. There is already in the
air a growing sentiment against autocracy, a decidedly increased will-
ingness, even an anxiety, on the part of presidents to seek counsel and
to prevent the ruptures invited by the official organization — all this
parallel with an increasing development of organization upon prin-
ciples antagonistic to real professional independence. It is obvious to
all that so impossible a situation as that now made publicly available
by the commendable willingness of Dean Kent to set forth the facts
of the case is not likely to recur; and the next president of Syracuse
University will be both a wiser and a happier man because of the
public indignation aroused by this extreme example of presidential au-
tocracy. Presidents are likely more and more to be benevolent, even con-
descending; and their efficiency is admitted. But as Professor Cattell
says : " The benevolent and efficient despot is the worst kind ; the cruel
and incompetent despot soon disappears." The increasing gracious-
ness and reasonableness of the administrative attitude, while it miti-
gates the situation for the present dwellers in the grove, must not be
permitted to set aside the real need for reform. Such reform, I have
urged, comes alike from the guiding dominance of principle, and the
facilitation of a suitable organization. The most practical outlook is
towards university presidents of different views of administration, of
independent insight, not overawed by convention or popular prejudice,
of a democratic temperament. I hold, as do others, that one of the
first requisites is that faculties shall elect their own presidents; and
the legal relations being what they are, I look forward (perhaps tele-
scopically) to the day when no worthy man will be willing to preside
over a faculty unless invited by them to this place of academic leader-
ship. More than this, I believe it essential that the faculty invest the
president with such authority and only with such as they regard as
desirable for academic welfare. Professor Stratton, quite independ-
ently, has expressed the same conviction :

Still more important and beneficial for our present needs would it be to
have the professors rather than the trustees elect the university president and
determine the powers which he should yield. The office of president would thus
remain, but he who occupied it would be the representative directly of the
faculty, and he could be efficient only so long as he retained their confidence.

Equally important with this reform is another: the authoritative
voice of the faculty in the determination of what measures shall be
decided with the cooperation of the board, which by the board alone,
and which by the faculty alone, and with this an essential representa-
tion of the faculty at the meetings of the board. An effective provi-

ACADEMIC ASPECTS OF ADMINISTRATION 339

sion seems to be that of a joint council of trustees and faculty, or an
advisory council to the president as at Stanford University. With
the establishment of these reforms or their equivalent, the rest may con-
fidently be left to the wisdom that universities have already shown
themselves to command, and to the cooperative spirit which these
changes inevitably incite.

Should it be said that by my own argument, administrative methods
are secondary and that the great struggle needed to effect these changes
will not be justified, I reply first with a decided assent, and second
with a vital reservation. Naturally administrative measures are of
minor importance if academic ends are secured; but it is because the
current methods are directly subversive of such ends, and because, most
of all, they imperil the academic career, and wantonly deprive it of its
due standing, that the change of such methods becomes the major con-
cern of the present educational situation. " The constitution of our
universities is an appearance of their indwelling mind, and therefore
it is of moment for their future" (Stratton).

The outward semblance and public garb of the university, no more
than personal beauty, is skin deep. Or if, indeed, we consider it such,
the retort is at hand, that at all events ugliness goes right down to the
bone. The unfortunate and distorted features of the academic system
are not superficial; and the remedy likewise must be radical. While
I make my plea for administrative reform dominantly because I am so
deeply convinced that the rehabilitation of the academic career is
possible only upon that condition, I yet emphasize that the welfare not
alone of the profession will be secured by the change of front which
is the consummation alike to be wished for and to be worked for,
but equally that the good of the student community and of all that,
makes for the strength of the university will be similarly advanced.
Measures will then be the issue of an inner harmony, of a slow matur-
ing conviction, of sensibilities and perceptions fostered by the experi-
ence of the academic life. As has been well said, a university — like-
much else in this world and very different from the advertising fusilade-
of commercial blank cartridges — a university works best when its work
is quiet and deep; and all its forms and organization should express
and strengthen this idea.

Ordinarily, amid the routine of pressing duties, in the leisure
between obligations, under the ever-pfesent sense of accountability, the
dweller in the modern grove checks his enthusiasms, and withstands
the temptation to unfold the future. But in surroundings, such as
these and under the incentive of occasion and with a sympathetic body
of hearers, he is emboldened to disregard the overcast horizon and
contemplate distantly, yet hopefully, the things that are to be.

340 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE SPECIALIST BLIGHT ON AMEKICAN EDUCATION

By JAMES P. MUNROE

BOSTON, MASS.

SPECIALISM is the order of the day. From the professor of Greek
down to the " professor " who shines one's shoes, that man is in
demand who is disposed to concentrate all his energies upon the learn-
ing or the doing of one thing. Even our households have become
infected, for therein is now to be found the very apotheosis of special-
ization. Even so late as the beginning of the last quarter of the nine-
teenth century, one maid would do substantially all the work of the
house; whereas, to-day, the lady who condescends to burn one's beef-
steak and to parboil one's potatoes will not enter the laundry or the
dining-room, while the other maid (or maids) would join the family
in general starvation before so far forgetting her " place " as to cook
a single meal.

But what can be expected of the rank and file of the modern world
when the leaders of American life, men in the professions and in those
higher institutions which prepare for the professions, have seemingly
gone mad upon the question of specialization? Like the gypsy-moth,
the specialist was imported from Europe, either directly or through
young men who went there for medical, linguistic or other higher
studies; and many a green tree of scholarship, many a fair, broad field
of general culture has been converted by this importation into a naked
waste of narrow pedantry.

Of course, the time has long gone by when any man, no matter how
brilliant, can, in Bacon's words, "take all learning for his province."
But that does not justify the running to an opposite extreme, does not
excuse the digging of a hole in the side of a small mound of erudition,
getting into the farthest end of it, and maintaining that the tiny
patch of sky framed by the mouth of the hole is all of the universe
worth while. It is probably necessary that some man should spend
his whole life grubbing at a certain obstinate Greek root; but why call
him learned, when he is simply industrious? Why reward him with
titles and emoluments, and give no scholastic encouragement to the
far less erudite man who is nevertheless sending intellectual and moral
roots over a wide area of human thought and life?

The curse of American scholarship and of American education is
the Ph.D. For in exalting this decoration of the specialist, we are
repeating the error of the Schoolmen, who confounded erudition,

SPECIALIST BLIGHT ON AMERICAN EDUCATION 341

which dries up the soul, with real wisdom, which expands man into
almost the very image of the All-Wise. Yet this hall-mark of erudi-
tion is to-day practically essential as a key to a faculty position ; and it
is so, not because there seems any valid educational reason for it, but
largely because it is required in Germany and looks well in the pros-
pectus. As a result, hundreds of young fellows are starving themselves
and impoverishing their parents in order to secure this decoration.
To get it they are pursuing so-called special investigations, by counting
the number of adverbial clauses in Shakespeare, or by sending out
questionnaires regarding the proportion of children who twiddle their
thumbs. Having scraped together this fatuous information, they are
spending much time and money in having it printed, in order that
another doctorial dissertation may be added to the dustiest shelves of
the college library. And these most precious years of a man's life,
these years in which the youth ought to be learning how to broaden
his mind and capacities, how to deal with men, how to handle his
faculties, his tongue and himself — these the poor fellow is selling for
this mess of pottage with which to feed the trustees of some lesser or
greater university.

Having been admitted to the teaching staff of the university, the
fledgling Ph.D., if he is to hold his place, must produce something, and
that quickly. But since his days, as a subordinate teacher, are mainly
taken up in such intellect-killing work as correcting thousands of
themes or counting the apparatus in the laboratory, how is he to get
that breadth, experience and wisdom which alone can make what he
is expected to produce of any value to the world? Half-starved phys-
ically and wholly starved intellectually and socially, his only alter-
native is to specialize still more, digging, like a woodpecker, into some
wormhole of erudition in the hope of extracting from it a maggot
large enough to placate the learned university public accustomed thus
to be fed by young doctors of philosophy. This digging is politely
called research; but it is the sorriest counterfeit of the genuine thing,
being but perfunctory and profitless grubbing. True research must be
founded upon wide scholarship, upon profound knowledge of men, and
upon extensive acquaintance with the world of letters and of things.
To compel such callow men as these to specialize is to condemn them
to intellectual suicide and, in so doing, to kill true scholarship.

In this hard-hearted world it would not very much matter that
these poor aspirants should waste their intellectual powers in this way,
did it affect only them and their long-suffering wives. But it is these
men, as a rule, who become professors and heads of departments, it is
they who determine the atmosphere and the trend of the colleges, it
is this type of specialist who is setting the standards of learning and
of scholarship for America. As a result we have our college popula-

342 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tions sharply divided into grinds and drones; we have our professions
filled with men who can do much within the little cell of their spe-
ciality, but who are wholly ineffectual in the great world of human
interests; we have a rich and powerful civilization that is breeding
pitifully few great leaders of human thought.

There are only two kinds of simon-pure specialists allowable: the
genius who has such a volume of treasure to bestow that every minute
of his life should be devoted to dispensing it; and the man who is
given the power of concentrated digging and who is vouchsafed no
other ability. The latter will grub out the absolutely essential minutiae
without which learning can not advance. The former will call down
from heaven those divine fires which are to keep civilization aflame.
The number of these specialists, however, is, in comparison with the
university population, infinitesimal; and the great mass of educated
men need, not concentration, but expansion, an intellectual highway, not
a groove. Of course, every man who hopes to amount to anything must
specialize in some degree. He must have a vocation and must strive
towards the highest achievement in that specialty. But he must have,
in addition, avocations to broaden and harmonize and sweeten him ; and
even his vocation must be founded upon such a knowledge of men and
of life that — at least before his fortieth year — he could take up any
other vocation and succeed in that.

We specialize our grammar-school children in bank discount and
leave them to life-long ignorance of what mathematics really means.
We specialize our high-school youth in battles and sieges and permit
them to remain ignorant of the great historic development, through
industry and commerce, of mankind. We specialize our college youth
in haphazard electives, each taught by a specialist and most of them
unrelated to all the others, and turn that youth out of college a
veritable ignoramus in regard to himself and to those other selves with
whom his whole subsequent life will be concerned. We send out from
our schools of applied science many a man competent to put up a
bridge, but not competent to put up a good front among his equals,
wise in the handling of formulae, but ignorant in the handling of men,
full of little knacks and methods of calculation, but empty of that
tact and that intellectual skill which are absolutely essential to pro-
fessional success.

The college teaching of literature, for example, is being dried and
mummified by specialists until the study of human thought has become
a sort of subterranean, philological treadmill, with never a glimpse
into the wide, high, lasting things to which literature should lead.
College philosophy is, as a rule, but a comparative anatomy of dead
and gone systems, never, as it should be, an inspiration to wisdom,
leading to the love of and search for truth. And how seldom is the

SPECIALIST BLIGHT ON AMERICAN EDUCATION 343

teaching of science a real search into fundamental principles and an
exposition of all-embracing truths ! " Facts," said Mr. Thomas Grad-
grind, " facts alone are wanted in life " ; and facts — the more minute
the better — are the goal and joy of the specialist. But man is not an
examinable fact; he is a veritable kaleidoscope of elusive impulses, im-
pressions, ideals, fictions; and it is with man that the whole life of the
educated man is to be lived.

In our schools and colleges (and especially in our professional
schools), we need to get back to the humanities — not to the humanities
of Greece and Eome as expounded in Oxford and diluted in America;
but to the humanities of the twentieth century. For the study of the
real humanities implies a working-knowledge of humankind, of men.
We have been so overwhelmed with facts and discoveries and theories
and inventions and names and classifications, that we are forgetting
that the main fact in life is you and I. We have been so busy stuffing
our children and our students with these facts that these classifications,
that we are forgetting that the main things which they, as men, must
know are men. Therefore give a boy, give a student all the facts and
all the practise that he can get in school and college, provided you do
not fail to give him, at the same time, a broad outlook upon history,
upon literature, upon human experience and human life. Whether he is
to start in a store, in an office or as a " drummer " ; whether he is to be a
minister, a lawyer, an engineer or a doctor, his success in life depends
enormously upon his ability to get on with and to handle men. He
can not have that success unless he is broad, catholic, tolerant, tactful
and philosophical; and he can not be those things unless he has been
trained, not as a specialist, but as a man. By success is not meant, of
course, mere financial and professional success — though in nine cases
out of ten those are most likely to be achieved by the broadest man —
but that highest success which comes through the widest social useful-
ness, through the consciousness that one has got out of life that which
has made the pains of living really worth while.

It may be an exaggeration to say that American scholarship is in a
deplorable condition; but every American must acknowledge that we
do not produce our due proportion of great men. There are, of course,
many excuses which may properly be offered; but one of the funda-
mental reasons is that we permit our promising youth to specialize too
soon. Consequently their scholarship, to paraphrase Bacon, is that of
boys, who can talk but who can not generate. To produce men with the
loins from which will spring great contributions to human thought
and action we must gradually make over our whole system of elementary
education so that youth, instead of being put through vast machines
for imparting facts, shall be put into small classes under intellectually
strong women, and especially under intellectually and morally strong

344 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

men, who shall really develop that boy's mind and character. "We must
then persuade the college authorities not to turn callow undergraduates
into a jungle of courses taught by specialists, but to lay out for those
boys really developing and strengthening coherent work which shall
make them acquainted, as far as they can learn at that time of life,
with men, society, philosophy and genuine wisdom. As to professional
training, the physicians are getting most nearly at the heart of the
problem by means of their clinics, their hospital and " externe " train-
ing, through which the embryo physician studies not simply medicine,
but human nature and human life.

Supposing a youth to be really educated in school and college and
to be genuinely trained in his professional school, he ought not to
specialize until he shall have had a number of years of wide experience
in his work, until, if possible, he shall have traveled, until he shall
have taken a thorough, graduate course in the university of the world.
Then he will have breadth and wisdom and true learning ; then he will
know real scholarship from false ; then he will be humble, reverent and
eager to know the truth; and only when a man arrives at this mental
and spiritual condition is he fit to be a specialist. Even then, as has
already been said, no man except a genius or a " grubber " is justified
in being an out-and-out specialist. All others must have at least one
avocation with which to temper and to put in proper perspective their
chosen specialties.

SOMETHING NEW IN "FREEWILL" 345

SOMETHING NEW IN "FKEEWILL"

Br Professor GEORGE STUART FULLERTON

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

IT has been maintained that all men are born free and equal. Shall
we accept this very broad statement as it stands? or shall we
repudiate it as a palpable untruth, an absurd exaggeration of the
actual state of things?

There can be no doubt that from certain points of view, abundant
objection can be brought against it. Is a baby free to go where it
pleases? Or a child of five to discipline its parents, and control the
key to the pantry? Is a boy free to vote? Or to raise money on a
note ? Is a lady free to play poker on the curb-stone ? Or a clergy-
man to supplement his insufficient salary by serving during the week
as end-man in the performances of a minstrel troupe? Is a banker
free to close his establishment every time that there is a football game
between Yale and Harvard ? Freedom ! Where is freedom ? We are
all of us hedged about by restrictions of a thousand sorts, and we are
not hedged about by the same restrictions. What I am free to do, an-
other is not free to do; and what he may do is forbidden to a third.
Where is this freedom attributed to all men? Some men incarcerated
in cells by legal process appear to be conscious that they are not free.
The larger number not thus provided for talk much about their free-
dom, especially at certain seasons of the year, but when we subject
them to critical inspection, we find that they only seem to be free to
do certain things determined by such circumstances as age, character,
sex, station in life, official position, and a multitude of others. Each
human being is certainly not free to do what every other is free to
do. What a droll world it would be if he were !

And as for equality — talk not of it ! Would any man in his senses
maintain that a baby not yet " shortened " is equal in size, weight and
intelligence to a senator or a college president? Is a boy equal in
foresight and power of self-restraint to a man of forty ? Are all school-
children equal in mathematical ability or in artistic skill? Are all
women equally beautiful and equally talkative? The man who really
believed in the equality of human beings would make the candidates
for the presidency of the United States pull straws, or would toss up a
copper to decide whom he should marry. Even if we confine ourselves
to men as "born," as still in the cradle, we can not regard them as

346 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

equal — the hydrocephalous infant is not to be confounded with the
normal child, nor the Bushman's baby with the offspring of the Anglo-
Saxon.

But, it may be objected with impatience, why all this insistence
upon what is so perfectly evident? Why whisper around the secret
of all the world — the very first thing that our common experience of
mankind brings to our notice? We do not have to wait for science
to tell us that men are not so outrageously free and so ridiculously
equal. Science corroborates what common experience reveals, of
course; but does not every one know of himself that when we warm
up over the subject of the rights of man, and grow pardonably orator-
ical, we never intend to be understood with a literal exactness ?

Yes, everybody knows, under normal circumstances, that men are
not alike, and that it would be the very height of all that is unreason-
able to expect all to act in the same way. No man of sense goes to the
thistle for figs, or to the penitentiary for saints. And as human beings
differ, and may reasonably be expected to find the attainment of the
halo difficult in varying degrees, and the descent to Avernus easy,
easier or easiest, according to their proclivities and to the help fur-
nished them by their environment, everybody knows that there is no
sense in treating all men alike, if our object is, as it ought to be, the
betterment of society. One man does not need special inducements
to be good; one has to have a cake dangled before him; one would be
cut to the quick if the cake were merely hinted at. One man needs a
gentle admonition, as his feet begin to move on the above-mentioned
slope; a second must have a pretty sharp jerk, if he is to be stopped in
his downward career; a third whizes by with such an impetus that to
lay hands suddenly upon him is to endanger his comfort and happiness.
Shall we treat them all alike, and call it even-handed justice ?

Everybody, I say, knows, under normal circumstances, that it is
folly to expect men to act alike, when they are not alike; to look to
see them influenced in the same way by the same object of desire or
aversion ; to hope to make them better by offering the same rewards or
by holding up the same threats of punishment. The same heavy
dumpling that will lure the hungry schoolboy to the paths of virtue,
will drive the aged dyspeptic to the vice of imprecation.

But men only know this, be it marked, under normal circumstances.
We must recognize the fact that men — not stupid men, or ignorant
men, but men of the highest intelligence and of much learning — are
capable of putting all this resolutely behind them, and of knowing
nothing save that all men are free and equal, when they fall into the
clutches of a certain strange metaphysical theory.

It is wonderful what abstract metaphysical reasonings will do. They
have smothered the voice of seemingly indubitable fact, and have led

SOMETHING NEW IN "FREEWILL" 347

men to deny the existence of the external world. They have induced
some to maintain that every man has his own truth, which is true for
him; and others to advance the doctrine that no truth is attainable
by man. They have caused one philosopher to talk as though he had
created the world; and another to declare that there is no evidence of
the existence of minds in one's neighbors. Not the least remarkable
feat is the production of the persuasion — a persuasion very tenaciously
held to by some — that there is something cheering and even pious in
the doctrine that men's actions are, to some degree, at least, quite un-
accountable, and can not be expected to be congruous with the character
and environment of the person in connection with whom they myste-
riously make their inexplicable appearance.

This does not at all mean that we are in a measure ignorant of
what individuals and classes of men will do under given circumstances.
No man denies such ignorance on our part, and all men strive to lessen
it. It means that no conceivable increase in our knowledge could be
expected to help us — that we are not concerned with the question of
knowledge or ignorance at all. It means that certain actions have
nothing to do with what has preceded them ; nothing with the character
of the supposed agent, but who is really not the agent; nothing with
his surroundings with the influences which have been brought to bear
upon him. Such actions just appear ; nobody causes them, nobody can
prevent them. There is no reason why they should happen in connec-
tion with one man rather than with another, or at one time rather than
at another. There is nothing in any one to call them into being or
to inhibit them. The baby, the grown man, the hardened criminal,
the philanthropist, the dullard, the man of genius, the devoted mother,
the cold-hearted coquette; — all these may suffer such actions, and there
is no more reason for expecting one of these to serve as the stage for
their appearance than there is for expecting another to serve as such.
The play has nothing to do with the stage ; it may break out anywhere !

0 temporal 0 mores! are there those who harbor such thoughts
about their fellow-men? Indeed there are; this is the doctrine of the
" freewillist," stripped of its domino and set out without disguise. I
am convinced that it would not even get a hearing, were it not that
we often confuse it with the very different doctrine that men are under
certain circumstances free, and that we come to regard it as the opposite
of that very unscientific doctrine fatalism.

Of freedom, " freedom," and fatalism I have already written at
some length in The Populae Science Monthly,1 and I shall not treat
of them in detail here. But we have recently been offered some such
curious " freewill " reasonings by Professor James, in that much-dis-
cussed little work " Pragmatism," that I can not but think that a brief

1 December, 1900, and October, 1901.

348 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

examination of them will be found interesting. In any case it ought
to be useful to some; for when an author writes with passion and
vehemence there are those who are in danger of being swept away with
the tide of his eloquence, and of forgetting that they must not close their
eyes to the world of palpable and admitted fact that lies about them.

Professor James makes lively objection to the emphasis which
some of us have laid upon the fact that there seems no sense in making
a man responsible for what he did not do and could not prevent; in
other words, in rewarding or in punishing him for " freewill " actions,
which, by hypothesis, do not spring from anything that is in him, but
just " happen " to the poor man. " Freewillists " have sometimes
maintained that only such actions can be regarded as creditable or the
reverse. It does not seem out of place for the man who sympathizes
with common sense and with science to point out that to reward a
man for what he did not do and can not do again, or to punish him for
what he did not do and can not be prevented from having happen to
him again, is highly absurd.

This answer of common sense to the position taken by the " f ree-
willist," may, it is admitted, be good ad liominem, but it is declared
to be otherwise pitiful. Every man, woman and child, with a sense
for realities, ought, we are informed, to be ashamed to plead such
principles as either dignity or imputability.

If a man does good acts we shall praise him, if he does bad acts we shall
punish him — anyhow, and quite apart from theories as to whether the acts
result from what was previously in him or are novelties in a strict sense. To
make our human ethics revolve about the question of " merit " is a piteous
unreality — God alone can know our merits, if we have any.a

Now the common-sense determinist, that is, the man who believes in
human freedom in the ordinary signification of the word — who thinks
that the good man will freely choose the good, the bad man the evil, the
wise man the prudent course of action, the rash and imprudent the
gaming table — the common-sense determinist, I say, can have no
quarrel with the position, taken by Professor James, that utility must
be consulted in carrying on the social business of punishment and
praise. What more natural than that the man who believes human
actions to be explicable, even if not always explained, and who has
confidence in the efficacy of persuasion, reward and punishment, should
consult the principle of utility. He wishes to attain certain philan-
thropic ends; he believes that they can be attained by the employment
of the appropriate means ; and he turns to the means.

But the common-sense determinist, like every one else who takes
an interest in ethics, must find rather paralyzing the idea that we
should eliminate from ethics the notion of "merit," and should praise

2 " Pragmatism," p. 118.

SOMETHING NEW IN "FREEWILL" 349

and punish without taking into consideration what is in the person
with whom we are dealing. That such a doctrine should be brought
forward at all, can only be explained, I think, on the ground that the
" freewillist," having been brought up to think that " freewill " actions
are, above all others, the actions of which ethics must take account, and
now being brought to a consciousness of the absurdity of talking about
the merit or demerit of " free " actions, feels driven to the extreme
statement that we must banish the notions of merit and demerit from
ethics altogether.

To be sure, it is hinted that we are forced to drop all consideration
of merit, not because we are assured that there is no such thing, but
rather because we must remain in doubt as to who may justly lay
claim to it, if any may — " God alone can know our merits, if we have
any." So far as our dealings with our fellowmen go, however, it is as
though there were no such thing ; and with merit goes demerit ; and, of
course, their synonyms good and ill desert go, too. We must not look
upon men as deserving or undeserving, for " God alone can know " in
such matters as these.

Now I beg the reader to open his eyes upon his own life and that
of his companions, and to ask himself whether he would ever dream
of living through a day under the guidance of such ethical principles
as are here suggested. Eemember that the principles are these : he who
does good acts is to be praised ; he who does bad acts is to be punished ;
no consideration is to be had to what is in the agent, he is to be praised
or punished " anyhow " ; no act is to be looked upon as meritorious or
the reverse, as creditable or discreditable.

Think of the frightful insults which one living a day under these
principles would, by his indiscriminate praise, heap upon the unoffend-
ing heads of the good — the uncalled-for compliments paid to gentle
old ladies on their keeping out of street brawls; the congratulations
lavished upon the president of the temperance society in view of the
fact that he passed a dozen saloons without going in; the warm grasp
of the hand given to the college professor for his regular and studious
habits. Think of the cruelty which would result from treating all
offenders alike — the mature and the immature, the case-hardened and
the man who has succumbed to sudden temptation. Think of the dis-
tortion of the moral judgment which must result from embracing the
opinion that nothing is creditable or discreditable to anybody. That
freshmen should skip like lambs does not seem unnatural or unbecom-
ing; but that the venerable men who are set over them should disport
themselves as rams must be regarded as discreditable, I submit, by any
unbiased mind.

Such a day as the one referred to above would be a day in a thou-
sand, and its description well worthy of the pen of a ready writer.

35° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Lack of space forbids my attempting such a description, and in any
case, I lack the imagination which would do justice to it. But, to
show how impossible it is to eliminate from ethics a consideration of
what is in the agents whose acts we are judging, and to eliminate the
notions of merit and demerit, I shall dwell upon a single illustration.
Let us suppose that we are informed that each of two human beings
has, on a certain day, told a fib, appropriated something which did not
belong to him, and, in an outburst of temper slapped a companion.
Let us suppose, further, that we are informed that, during the whole
week following that unlucky day, neither of the persons in question
has done anything of the sort, but has been truthful, honest and
peaceable.

On a given day, both have done " bad acts " ; shall we punish both
" anyhow," or, at least, give expression to our disapproval ? and shall
our punishment or our disapproval be equally energetic in either case ?
For a week both have done " good acts " ; shall we praise each " any-
how," and in each case with equal warmth ?

One of the delinquents is Tommy, aged four; the other is a bishop
supposed to be of sound and disposing mind. May we affirm that that
unhappy day has not been more discreditable to the bishop than to
Tommy ? And does it seem sensible to say that the week following has
not been more creditable to Tommy than to the bishop ? If we talk in
this way about the two, we shall find that in the home, in the school,
on the street, and even among the philosophers, men will laugh at us;
and we can not check their laughter with the pious ejaculation that
" God alone can know " whether small boys and bishops have any
merits at all, or can do anything creditable or discreditable. It is
only the " f reewillist " who will not laugh. Metaphysical theory seems
to have cast a blight upon his sense of humor.

So much for the elimination from ethics of merit and demerit.
The " freewillist," who declines to consider these notions at all, has,
as we have seen, fallen into error. But he has, at least, been saved
from the error of arguing, as " freewillists " have done in the past, that
there must be such things as " freewill " actions, if we are to accord
credit or discredit to any one. The argument is very swampy ground
upon which to base such an imposing structure as the " freewill " doc-
trine. This Professor James admits ; but, as the " freewill " doctrine
must be built up at all hazards, and a lot of some sort must be found
somewhere, Professor James offers us a bit of " pragmatic " property
of his own, a few square yards of " real ground," which he thinks will
sustain the weight of the edifice.3

Persons in whom knowledge of the world's past has bred pessimism
may, we are told, naturally welcome " freewill " as a melioristic doc-
s " Pragmatism," pp. 118-121.

SOMETHING NEW IN "FREEWILL" 351

trine. It holds up improvement as at least possible. " Freewill " is
thus a general cosmological theory of promise.

It is very important to understand just what this means. It means
that we may assume, as a relief from despondency, that things may
happen in the future which have absolutely no ground in what has been
or what is. We have, by hypothesis, no means of knowing anything
whatever about these things to which we look forward. We cam not
frame a reasonable expectation of any kind — we only know that we
may expect the unexpected.

Let us imagine Schopenhauer, the pessimist, and Candide, the
merry optimist, banished together to a world of this lawless description,
and condemned to pass a month in the same pension. The beds are
hard, the coffee is weak, the dinner is not wholly satisfactory, and the
company is mixed.

" Candide," says Arthur, after a week spent in mortifying the flesh,
" how does this strike you ? "

" I shall not answer you in the spirit of the exaggerated optimism
which I once tried to cultivate," responds the sobered philosopher, " for
the condition of things is, indeed, somewhat trying; but I know your
weakness, and I feel it my duty to point out to you that, if we may not
be optimists here, we may at least be meliorists. In such a world as
this, no one can know what is going to happen next. In this general
uncertainty there lies concealed a promise. Cheer up ! "

" Cheer up ? " thunders the German, " Candide, you are incorrigible.
As you have abandoned your optimism, I should be ungenerous not to
modify my pessimism; but beyond pejorism I can not, as a rational
being, consent to go. You admit that things are bad ; you admit that,
for all we can know to the contrary, they may at any time be worse.
That is enough for me — God alone can know how miserable the next
week may find us."

" But think of the promise," insists the man of hopeful temper,
'" is there nothing in that? "

" The promise ? The promise of what ? " is the scornful reply.
" Who can take comfort in a promise so long as it is uncertain whether
it is a promise to pay or a promise to extort payment ? Your meliorism
and my pejorism are the same thing, or two aspects of the same thing
— the thing may best be described as discontent with the present and
complete uncertainty touching the future."

Candide relapses into silence; he can not conscientiously load the
dice of " freewill " and make them work together for good. He can
not assure his companion that things are going to be better, when it is
purely problematic whether there is going to be any change at all, and
whether, if there be a change, it will be a change for the better or for
the worse. He may not exercise a confidence in the Cosmos, or in

352 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

God, or in anything, for " freewill " changes would not be " freewill"
changes, if they had their ground in anything that is or has been.
He sees clearly that the watchman which he has set on the wall to tell
him of the night has no other task than to come down from time to
time and inform him that it is conceivable that something may happen,
but God alone can know what that something may be. Why keep a
man out in the cold just for this ? Let us rather bring him down and
put him beside the fire.

And Schopenhauer is, I think, more nearly right than he usually
was when he was in the body and on this planet, which science will not
recognize to be a " freewill " planet. Surely it is not reasonable to
take comfort in mere uncertainties as such — in promises which promise
nothing. A reasonable hope, even a faintly reasonable hope, must
have " some outlines and shadows " of a foundation, as Maritornes,
though a sinner, had " some outlines and shadows of a Christian."

May we, then, harbor no hopes unless they are reasonable hopes?
May we never hope against hope? May we never lighten dark hours
by insisting that sometime the dawn must come?

I should be the last to insist that we must be as coldly rational as
this. One of our problems is the problem of getting through life and
of being happy and cheerful if we can. One can, as a help to this,
embrace a faith, clearly recognizing that it is a faith and not a scien-
tifically established doctrine. One can look on the bright side of
things, knowing well enough that the bright side is not the only side,
and yet preventing one's mind from dwelling upon what lies in the
shadow.

I can not see that this would, in itself, do harm. We are concerned
with a rule of life, and one may adopt such a rule without necessarily
clouding one's intellect or repudiating the open mind. But when one
undertakes to bolster up a faith adopted in this way, by the invention
of arbitrary metaphysical hypotheses, which introduce confusion into the
science of ethics, and which make of this orderly world in which we
live a realm of anarchy, a scene of disorder, in which prudence and
forethought and knowledge lose their significance — when one does this,
one goes, I maintain, beyond what is permissible, and one does harm.

It has been well said that one must not judge of a man's intellect
from the religious doctrines which he elects to embrace. It is the
man who chooses these things; not the mere intellect. The man may
be acute, and he may be learned; and he may, nevertheless, hold opin-
ions which seem to us narrow and unenlightened. Too many things
go to the determination of the religious belief of a given individual, to
enable us to judge him in summary fashion.

And is it not somewhat the same in philosophy ? I do not say that
it ought to be just the same in philosophy; but, as a matter of fact,

SOMETHING NEW IN "FREEWILL" 353

is it not much the same? He who supposes that the philosophers are
free from the passions of other men does not know the history of human
thought.

As to the " freewill " controversy, it has been penetrated through
and through with passion and with prejudice. The real impulse which
makes men " f reewillists " showed itself more than two thousand years
ago, when a man who cared little about meliorism and cared a great
deal about doing as he pleased without external interference, invented
the " freewill " doctrine, under the mistaken notion that it released him
from the decrees of fate. Some men wish to be freed from fate from
higher motives, and some from lower; but freed from it we all of us
wish to be. And just so long as men confuse " freewillism " with
the doctrine that men may be free, will they determine at all hazards
to be " freewillists."

In their desperation, men of real ability will urge arguments that
are not arguments, will propose remedies that are worse than any dis-
ease likely to overtake us in the course of nature. They must hold on
to their leaky doctrine ; is not anything preferable to a surrender to the
decrees of fate ? But they fight a losing battle, and the exercise must
be a depressing one. Is it not better to go to the common-sense deter-
minist or to the man of science, and learn that there is no such thing
as fate, and that men may be free even in an orderly world ?

vol. Lxxin. — 23.

354 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE LAWS OF SOCIAL ATTKACTION

By Peofessoe SIMON N. PATTEN

tJNIVEESITY OF PENNSYLVANIA

SCIENCE is a powerful transformer of human thought and yet it
is remarkable how little direct influence it has on the affairs of
life. We live from day to day under the guidance of the same feelings
and motives that our ancestors had long before the sway of science was
felt. A new discovery attracts our attention and evokes anticipation of
great changes, only to drop out of view when the novelty is worn off.
Much of this lack of interest is due to the fact that the adjustments
that scientific laws demand were long since made in an unconscious
way so that we already do what science prescribes. A cat that, falling,
lands on its feet does all that a full knowledge of gravitation demands.
Law thus has a reflective use in explaining what has happened, but
seldom is a force in shaping action.

There is, however, one field to which science is being applied where
this conclusion does not hold. Marriage is a subject of deep personal
interest and it is also one of the few fields where real choice is increas-
ing. From generation to generation the number of those grow who
settle their marriage relations for themselves. Likes and dislikes play
an ever-increasing role, while outside pressure — be it economic, social
or moral — ceases to dominate choices to the degree it did. We are
forced into subordination to environing conditions to an ever-increasing
degree, but we get even, so to speak, by asserting our wills more freely
in the choice of mates. The economic determination of daily life is
thwarted by the impulses that determine love affairs. The one free
epoch of a lifetime is often the days of courtship. Can laws be formu-
lated that cover this epoch or is the mating of men and women a
matter of chance?

A notable book has recently appeared which does much to put this
problem on the new basis. In his " Sex and Character " Weininger
assumes that the two sexes differ so fundamentally that every organ
and even every cell reflects the peculiarities of the male and female
plasms from which they arise, each representing the normal results
that follow from the original differences in the sex cell. He holds,
however, that there are few, if any, pure males or females, but that
most men inherit some female characters while in women male char-
acters are equally common. The ordinary woman is dominantly
female, not purely so. The ordinary man in turn is dominantly male

THE LAWS OF SOCIAL ATTRACTION 355

and yet some of his characters are female. If every man was a pure
man and every woman a pure woman any man would be attracted by
and suitable for any woman. There would be no basis for individual
preference, because the qualities and impulses demanded would be
found in any individual of the opposite sex. There would thus be no
law of individual attraction. But with the intermediate forms — those
partly male and partly female — each person likes in his mate the quali-
ties he has not. Where he is male he demands female qualities in his
mate, and where he is female he is attracted by a woman who in these
respects has male qualities. A womanly man prefers a masculine
woman and she in turn would be attracted by him because each finds
qualities in the other that they do not possess. If the positive sign
(-(-) he made to represent masculine characters and the negative ( — )
the womanly qualities then each fitting couple would have in the one
a plus quality where the other had a minus quantity. Weininger states
his law as follows : " For any true sexual union it is necessary that
there come together a complete male (M.) and a complete female (F.)
even although in different cases the M. and F. are distributed in dif-
ferent proportions." The truly male part of a man and the truly
male part of his affinity will thus make an ideal man, while the truly
female parts of the two make an ideal woman. Each wife should
possess that amount of maleness that her husband lacks and he should
be female to the degree and at those points where she is male. Where
two people are male and female in the same qualities there will be
sexual aversion with no inclination to mate.

The interest in this doctrine is increased by the application its
author makes of it to the problem of woman's emancipation. The
pure woman, he contends, does not want independence and equality
with men. She is dominantly sexual and cares little for what is really
foreign to her nature as a woman. It is the sexually intermediate
forms that desire emancipation. To the degree that a woman has in-
herited qualities that are male she will have a deep-seated craving t<?
acquire man's character and to have his freedom and ability. All sue
cessful women show the dominance of male characters. George Eliot,
he tells us, had a broad massive forehead : her movements, like her ex-
pression, were quick and decided and lacked all womanly grace. It is
this male element in women that longs for equality. The womanly
woman never pays any special attention to art or to science, or if she
does it is only as a means of attracting a person of the opposite sex.
Women really interested in intellectual matters are sexually inter-
mediate forms. The whole woman's movement is thus unnatural and
artificial. It creates an undue amount of excitement that ends in
hysteria. Any attempt to emancipate all women is sure to defeat
itself by the artificiality and misery it creates.

This book is a contribution to the problems discussed, and yet I feel

356 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

that it has been put in a wrong setting and is therefore capable of a
different interpretation than that which its author gives. The dif-
ficulty in applying biological principles to sociological problems is so
great that any slight error leads to radically false results. Social
thinkers must use biology, but care must be taken not to isolate some
one principle from related doctrines which if properly presented would
vitiate the reasoning drawn from a narrow field. The qualities of
mothers are inherited by sons and those of fathers by their daughters,
so that if there are any special sex characters they would soon appear
in persons of the opposite sex. We are thus intermediate forms with
characters coming both from our fathers and mothers. But it does not
follow from this that sexual affinity is due to this mixture: for this
would assume that we have a special liking for qualities absent in our-
selves. On the contrary, we like those like ourselves and have an
aversion to those who present differences no matter how slight.

The doctrine of sexual affinity should be so restricted that it will
conform to sociological and psychological laws as well as to those of
biology. This can be done by keeping in mind a distinction that
Weininger has overlooked. Were all characters natural and none
acquired, we might assume that they were male or female. But
acquired characters can not thus be divided. They are carried along
by a social heredity which impresses its effects on both sexes alike.
Weininger assumes, however, that all characters are due to differences
in germ cells and that every one in his development reveals the tend-
encies active in them. These tendencies, however, are thwarted by
adverse conditions, so that each individual at maturity is either far
short of his full development or has been pressed in other directions
than forces of the original germ cell would dictate. Differences be-
tween men are thus due not merely to variations in germ cells, but to
defects which arise out of bad conditions. Persons with the same
germ cells may differ more radically at maturity than they differ from
those whose germ cells represent some variation in the species. Food,
housing, light, air and disease are of prime importance in creating the
peculiarities which appear at maturity. The modifications which cul-
minate in some variations of the racial type are in any age too slight
to be of importance in accounting for the marked differences which
appear in mature men and women. These differences are defects due
to bad conditions, not peculiarities of germ cells. They represent
retardations in development, not modification of the racial type. We
are all short some characters which our heredity would reveal if con-
ditions favored and these shortages are of such infinite variety that
scarcely two individuals are alike.

It is generally admitted that improvements in the human race can
be made by crosses increasing the number of natural characters. But

TEE LAWS OF SOCIAL ATTRACTION 357

is sexual affinity a peculiar bond that adds to the attractiveness of other
stocks and races or is it an index of defects imposed on individuals of
the same stock by shortcomings of their environment? Is an affinity
a person of the other sex just like ourselves in heredity, but with other
defects, or is this affinity a person of other stock or race enclosed and
harmonized by the influence of the same environment? The answer
to these questions is to be found not in biological studies of germ cells,
but in psychology and physiology. An affinity is a strong dominating
form of attachment which suppresses the ordinary thought processes
and puts in their place many unique emotions and illusions. We
immediately recognize the abnormality of the actions of two such people
and know that only the breaking of the spell will restore them to
normal life. It is thus a feeling akin to hysteria and has the same
general causes. Like listeria, it is not a character, but an abnormality.
It is a state of deficient emotional control — a paralysis of the higher
centers that should dominate thought and activity. Irritability, pas-
sion, uncontrollable sex feelings and hysteria all represent the lack of
something that is normally present, not the presence of characters absent
from normal people. They are manifestations of retardations through
which people fail to reach a full development. Defects represent the
loss of characters due to this retardation. The higher centers fail to
act with sufficient promptness and the retarded person falls under the
control of strong persistent feelings that upset normal thought and
control. In the parts where defects appear instead of positive char-
acters, emotion and hysteria control instead of reason.

These persons with abnormal tendencies are aroused and dominated
by the fully developed people of their own type; they have an aversion
to people of other types. If a person is naturally musical, but through
some defect or disease his powers are practically dormant, he will be
lifted into a new realm by persons of great musical power. The
capacity to enjoy music is in this defective person; it is made dormant
by adverse conditions, but it can be aroused by contact with musical
talent; and is forced by the new stimulus and excitement through a
rapid development. There seems to be a miraculous change and with
it a tremendous emotional outburst. The strong thus exert a tonic
influence over the weak and retarded of their own type. The hero is
not a super-man ; he is the normal man ; his followers are just like him
in character and heredity. The defects of environment and personal
development have kept them from attaining his level and give to him
a dominance over their lives through the stimulus towards a better self-
expression than his example and life give. The instantaneous con-
version of religion does not come to the normally developed man, but
he can stimulate a conversion in defective, retarded people of his own
type. Strong emotions, irresistible impulses, instantaneous changes,

358 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

self-subordination to heroes and mob rule, are thus marks of defective
development and of abnormal growth.

Sexual attraction is strongest between two people of the same stock
with different defects. Whoever has a character of normal excellence
will arouse, stimulate and subordinate one of the opposite sex who has
this character in some retarded or abnormal form. If two people of
the same stock have different defects each will control and arouse the
other where he is normal and his mate is abnormal. The feeling of
affinity is greatest when half of the faculties of each is dormant, while
the normal part of each complements that of the other. Weininger
asserts that two affinities taken together would show the characters of
a normal man and a normal woman. I contend that the sum of their
characters equals that of one normal person. He thinks that the chil-
dren of these affinities will be stronger and better than the average of
mankind because the qualities of their parents make a normal man
and a normal woman. I contend that these children will be below
the average because both of the parents are defective and the children
will be subject to even more retardation in development. Let us as-
sume that in two families on intimate terms the wife of one finds that
the other man is her affinity and wants a child by him and that her
husband assents promising to raise the child as his own. Weinmyer
would say that this love child would be above the average of the two
families, stronger in intellect and body. In my opinion it would be
weaker and more defective. From his position this act should be
commended; from mine it should be punished.

If I am right, Weininger is also in error in regard to woman's
emancipation. He starts with the thought that the characters of men
and women are different and that the emancipated woman is an inter-
mediate form having masculine qualities. In the development of his
thesis, however, he shifts over to the assumption that all positive char-
acters are masculine and that the pure woman is nothing more than
sexuality. This failure to find definite characters in woman shows the
falsity of the assumption that characters are the result of sex heredity.
The undeveloped man is dominated as much by sexual impulses as is
the retarded woman. Positive characters that raise them above their
sexual appetites come to women as to men only by the process of devel-
opment. The environment of women, however, is more defective than
that of men and the drains on her system are more severe. Few women
go far in their development before defects become so numerous as to
check further progress. If they escape these set-backs they develop
the same characters that appear in men who have an unobstructed
development. The emancipated woman is thus not the hysterical
woman out of her normal place, but the woman with a more favorable
environment than her sisters have. Her gains in character due to these

THE LAWS OF SOCIAL ATTRACTION 359

better conditions lift her to the plane of the normal man and give her
his characters.

If sexual affinity is due to complementary defects and not to com-
plementary characters it is but an example of the general law of social
attraction. A social leader is not a man with additional powers to
those possessed by his followers. He has a full development of all the
possibilities of his heredity while they have many of these qualities,
dormant or partially developed. The defective have the capacity to
feel, but not the power to see or to express. They admire those who
can do what they desire and feel should be done, but which they can
not of themselves execute. Social affinity is thus the bond that unites
the defective to the normal. The defective follow leaders not because
they are imitative, but because they are stimulated and aroused.
Imitation is a habit that increases the regularity of life. Emotion and
hysteria result from defects that promote irregular spasmodic action.
They become social only through the presence of normal individuals
who subordinate the weak and defective to their own ideals. Eetarded
development, defects, lack of control, strong emotion and hysteria are
the roots out of which social attraction grows, and the resulting law is
quite as fundamental as is the law of imitation upon which so much
of social thought rests.

The law of social affinity is a law not of human nature, but a law
of deficit: for defects are due not to heredity, but to a bad environ-
ment. It is said that a hive of bees is a group of degenerate creatures
in which just one individual is fully developed; the others are what
they are and do what they do because they have not had enough food.
A human society is not in so bad a shape, but individuals having their
innate powers fully developed are so rare that men regard them as
heroes or demigods. What these few become is the standard to which
all might attain if environment, health, nurture and education were
given them. We need better feeding more than better breeding. Were
a higher type of beings demanded it could be secured only through the
slow process of biological development, but if noble qualities are
already a gift of heredity kept from expressing themselves through
defective conditions, we have it in our power to lift the whole of
humanity to its natural level. Income and nurture lie at the basis of
social progress. To lose these essential conditions means a retarded
development, unrestrained emotions and a lack of rationality in action.
Eeason controls the normal man; primitive emotions and hysteria con-
trol the abnormal.

Social attraction binds these defective creatures to their superiors
and thus preserves the race from social degeneration, but it does not
prevent physical degeneration. Sexual affinity is strongest between
those with complementary defects, and hence a steady decline in phys-

360 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ical vigor follows emotional marriages. The weak man or woman is
absorbed in one individual and hates or at least is indifferent to man-
kind. Normality and great physical vigor tend in the opposite direc-
tion. They displace hysterical emotions with a vivid power of ideal-
ization by which the whole race becomes the object of thought; the
gentle but vivid emotion of love that results goes out to all mankind
and becomes personal only incidentally if at all. Love and hysteria
are thus at opposite poles of physical vigor. Through idealization love
imposes qualities on others they do not have and diminishes the an-
tipathy of people to those of other stocks. It improves the race by
favoring marriages that are real crosses, thus giving to children new
and better qualities. The source of love is thus positive and within
one's self while that of an affinity is negative, being aroused only by
the presence of another defective individual. Love thus elevates and
broadens while an absorbing affinity narrows and degrades.

In primitive times when the defective could not survive, emotional
marriages like an emotional religion had certain advantages, and it is
evident why they were both popular and useful, but when the domi-
nance of humanitarian motives allows the weak to arrive at maturity,
the power of affinity both in marriage and in religion becomes a potent
force for evil. The broader interests of the race are subordinated to a
narrow family and sectarian life. Vivid emotion and hysteria localize
and isolate mankind into opposing groups. The marriage of affinities
and the inbreeding of religious sectarians cut down the birth rate and
reduce the vigor of each generation. There is thus a force that pre-
vents degeneration even where the reduction of disease and humani-
tarian motives tend to permit the survival of the weak. Eace suicide
does in a generation what disease and brutality would have done in a
few years. The increase in the number of normal people would lift
men above the dangers of hysteria and degeneration and substitute
rational methods for the primitive impulses that control our social life;
social attraction based on a love for dissimilar people would then dis-
place the power of affinity binding together people of the same stock.
This higher bond can be secured only by transforming the defects due
to economic deficits into the positive characters that would come of
themselves if the mass of the people had income and leisure. Health,
vigor, idealization and the love of those dissimilar to ourselves are steps
in progress that follow the appearance of an economic surplus. The
misleading impulses of hysteria and the narrowing grasp of affinity
are the forces that mislead men in their marriage relations. Set them
aside and eugenic marriages will be as common as now they are rare.

TEE PASSING OF TEE STURGEON 361

THE PASSING OF THE STURGEON: A CASE OF THE
UNPARALLELED EXTERMINATION OF A

SPECIES

By WALTER SHELDON TOWER, Ph.D.

ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF GEOGRAPHY, UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA

THERE is little chance for doubt that the sturgeon was originally
present in great abundance both in the coastal and the inland
waters of the United States, since frequent mention of the species is
found in the annals of the colonial period. Probably the earliest men-
tion of this fish is found in Burk's "History of Virginia/' where it is
stated that a sturgeon fishery existed in that colony in 1626. 1 For
some reason, however, this early experiment did not prove successful
and was abandoned. A century later Beverley's history of the same
colony states that the rivers contained " multitudes of shad, rock and
sturgeon," the last-named species being caught with nooses by the
Indians. In fact, so abundant were the sturgeon that they often leaped
into the canoes of the Indians, "as many of them do still (1722) every
year into the boats of the English."2 A letter from William Penn to
the Free Society of Traders in 1683 names sturgeon first in the list of
abundant fish in the waters of his province.3 Throughout the region
bordering on Delaware River and Bay the early settlers were struck at
the immense number of sturgeon seen in those waters and here, as in
Virginia, many and often fanciful stories are told about the fish being
so numerous that they jumped into open boats. Even as late as 1850
it was not an uncommon occurrence for passengers on the ferry to see
several sturgeon during a single trip between Camden and Philadelphia.
In the Great Lakes, on the Pacific coast, in Maine and southward
from the Chesapeake, the records tell the same story of sturgeon in
wonderful abundance. Yet, strange as it may seem, in those days of
none too abundant food supply, the sturgeon apparently was not often
eaten until many years after the colonies were established. It is not
known just when this species was first made the object of a regular
fishery. The unsuccessful Virginia experiment in 1626 was un-
doubtedly the first attempt. But after the abandonment of that ven-
ture there is no record of a regular sturgeon fishery until more than a
century later. There is a tradition that before the revolution market-

1 Burk, J. D., " History of Virginia," Vol. II., p. 17.

2 Beverley, Robert, "History of Virginia," pp. 117-119.
8 Watson, J. F., " Annals of Philadelphia," p. 46.

362 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

men at Trenton, then an important fishing center, packed sturgeon in
barrels, shipping them to New York and to Philadelphia by ox team.*
But until long after the colonial period, even in these places the roe was
regarded as worthless except as feed for hogs or as bait for other fish.
Furthermore, few people of the better class would eat the flesh, it being
the food of servants and negro slaves.5 The reason for this prejudice
is not recorded, but it is not unlikely that it was similar to the early
prejudice against the Connecticut Eiver shad on the ground that it was
food for Indians. It is true enough that this objection, though equally
applicable, did not prevent the colonists from consuming large quanti-
ties of oysters. But the difference in the edible qualities of oyster and
sturgeon combined with the no less great abundance of the more highly
esteemed shad, might readily explain the inconsistency. At all events,
that the strong prejudice did exist is beyond question, hence there seems
to be room for some doubt about the importance of this Trenton fishery
of the colonial period.

In the " History of the Fisheries and Fishing Industries of the
United States," edited by G. Browne Goode, it is said that a large
sturgeon fishery, employing a score of vessels in some years, was carried
on in Maine during the early part of the eighteenth century, but was
not followed continuously. The account does not state to what use the
products were put nor where they found a market. Again in the first
quarter of the last century a company of men located on a small
island in Casco Bay and began fishing for sturgeon, sending the flesh
in kegs to the West Indies. The business was soon suspended for un-
known reasons, however, and although there was an abundance of
sturgeon in the Kennebec there was no further attempt to utilize them,
except for occasional home use, until many years later.6

Despite these various experiments at sturgeon fishing in different
localities, the strong prejudice against the sturgeon flesh appears to
have precluded the possibility of developing any regular market, and so
prevented the growth of any important industry, until after 1850. It
seems probable that the first approach to a regular and permanent
fishery was developed in the Delaware Eiver region. About 1830 and
later, three Pennsylvania fishermen made a practise of taking sturgeon
with nets and harpoons near the present town of Bristol, Pa. They
also did some fishing about Dutch Island, near Bordentown, while on
the other side of the Delaware a gill-net fishery was begun in 1853 at
Penn's Grove, New Jersey.7 That the occupation here was not very
remunerative, however, can be seen from the fact that the fish rarely
sold for more than 30 cents each and often as low as 12y2 cents.

About the same time, a third attempt was made in the Kennebec

'Fishing Gazette, July 21, 1906, p. 679.

5 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1899, p. 370.

8 Goode, Vol. V., Sec. 1, p. 699.

7 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1899, p. 370.

THE PASSING OF THE STURGEON 363

by representatives of a Boston firm, their object being to put up the roe
for caviar and manufacture oil from the bodies. No difficulty was
experienced in securing a supply of fish, 160 tons being caught the
first season. The oil obtained was of excellent quality, but the experi-
ment with the roe, one of the earliest in the country, was a failure, and
after two seasons this venture went the way of its predecessors.

The Delaware Eiver industry, evidently as a result of its proximity
to New York and Philadelphia, where more convenient markets could
be found among the foreign population and poorer classes, appears to
have struggled along with a more or less precarious existence until
about 1860. A few years prior to that date, the smoking of sturgeon
flesh had been begun on a small scale in New York, and was followed
by a similar custom in Philadelphia. Smoked sturgeon made a fairly
good substitute for smoked halibut, and in this way a more or less
regular demand for the flesh was for the first time created in the cities,
being supplemented by the growing " wagon trade " carried on by
peddlers who carted fish through the country districts.8 The prepara-
tion of sturgeon roe for caviar had also been done successfully on a com-
mercial scale and was perhaps even a more important factor in promo-
ting the growth of the fishery. But as an important industry, the
sturgeon fishery of Delaware Eiver and Bay can not be said to have
originated much before 1860 to 1870, at which time, so far as the
records show, the Hudson Eiver was the only other place where it
gave promise of attaining extensive proportions. Maine was once more
the scene of a sturgeon fishery in 1872, when local fishermen engaged
in it, giving place two years later to a regular crew, headed by New
York fishermen, catching and buying for the New York smoking and
caviar establishments.9 Important fisheries in the Hudson Eiver
existed prior to 1880, supplying local demands or the markets in
Albany and New York. The former city is said to have taken such
quantities of the flesh that it came to be known locally as " Albany
beef," like the sobriquet " Charles city bacon " applied to sturgeon
meat on the James Eiver, in Virginia.10 The Maine fishery, however,
ceased to be important after five or six years, and never was revived,
and the Hudson industry had declined greatly before 1880, because of
the scarcity of fish. During this same period, Delaware Eiver fisher-
men had developed a regular fishery for sturgeon about the mouths of
the larger rivers along the South Atlantic coast, the most important
localities being Albemarle Sound, Savannah Eiver and Winyah Bay.11
But regular fishing was also prosecuted near the mouths of the Alta-
maha, Satillas, Ogeechee, Edisto, Santee and the various streams entor-

8 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1899, p. 370.

•Goode, Vol. V., Sec. 1, p. 699.

10Goode, Vol. V, Sec. 1, p. 659.

n U. S. Fish Commission Bulletin, 1891, p. 355.

364 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ing Winyah Bay.12 In most cases the fishermen were from northern
localities, going south to engage in the industry before the season
opened in Delaware Bay, and sending their catch to the Savannah
market, or to New York and Philadelphia, via Charleston or
Savannah.13

In other localities, however, the sturgeon was somewhat slower in
being rid of the strong prejudice against it, to which was added in
many cases the bitter enmity of the fishermen because of the damage
done to their nets by this powerful fish. The salmon fishermen of the
Columbia Eiver despised it as a worthless, destructive fish, and for
many years whenever taken in the nets a sturgeon was usually killed or
thrown out on the bank. Along the shores of the Great Lakes sturgeon
were not used very much for food until after smoking of the flesh
began at Sandusky about 1860, experiments in making caviar having
been tried at that place five years earlier.14 Before that time they had
been so little valued that when it was possible to sell them they would
not bring over 10 cents apiece,15 while in most cases they were regarded
as a nuisance, usually being taken out and thrown away. As late as
1872, in fact, sturgeon were taken in great abundance every autumn
in the nets of the Green Bay region and were almost universally pulled
into the boats and consigned to the offal heap.16 From Virginia, also,
comes the statement that less than three decades ago the roe was
thrown away or used for fish bait, and such great quantities of meat
were taken in the Potomac that there was absolutely no sale, the fish
being piled like cordwood on the shore and farmers called on to cart
them away for fertilizer.17 In the face of these conditions, however,
the sturgeon fishery by 1880 had become an important branch of the
fishing industry in the Middle and South Atlantic States and in the
Great Lakes. Successful smoking of the flesh and its use as a good
substitute for smoked halibut had overcome much of the early prejudice
and established a small, but growing, market for sturgeon meat, while
the manufacture of isinglass from the bladder and, most potent of all,
the increasing European demand for caviar, aided materially in estab-
lishing the industry on a profitable basis. Instead of being thrown out
in heaps to rot as before, the multitudes of sturgeon in the Great
Lakes were now turned to profit by the fishermen. Where in 1860 the
sturgeon had supported only a tottering industry, confined largely to
the Delaware Eiver region, the year 1880 marked an industry wide-
spread in its range and yielding nearly 12,000,000 pounds of products
annually.

"Goode, Vol. V., Sec. 1, pp. 617-625.

"Goode, Vol. II., p. 506.

14 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1887, p. 249.

18 Loc. cit., p. 263.

19 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1872-73, p. 10.
17 Fishing Gazette, January 20, 1906, p. 56.

THE PASSING OF THE STURGEON

365

For nearly two decades after 1880 the animal yield of sturgeon
products did not fall below eleven or twelve million pounds, but as
season followed season the same areas were not contributing the same
proportion of the total. The accompanying table shows the catch for
the various districts in different years. In 1880 the Great Lakes,

Statistics of the Stukgeon Fishery 1S

1880

189019

Pounds

Value

Pounds

Value

2,800
5,847,527

487,787

$132

Middle Atlantic

1,719,558
1,055,150

$65,553
58,899

144,255

South Atlantic

10,374

Gulf

Pacific Coast

1,658,00022
7,557,38322

2,309,294
4,289,759

38,019

Great Lakes

148,360

11,990,091

12,937,167

$341,140

189720

190421

Pounds

Value

Pounds

Value

New .England

21,310
3,698,905
1,042,230

31,654
3,139,511
1,176,818
2,250,209

$1,256
191,926

56,178
1,315

80,094
111,389

62,693

$504,851

21,260
736,313
238,855
478,496
137,981
638,898
1,008,408

3,260,211

$2,112
91,708

Middle Atlantic

South Atlantic

25,483

Gulf

17,098

Pacific Coast

4,271

Great Lakes

53,017

Interior

38,355

11,360,637

$232,044

owing to the vast abundance of sturgeon in the shallow and warmer
waters of Lakes Michigan and Erie, yielded more than three fifths of
the total for the United States. Although complete statistics for the
entire country are not available for any single year during the decade
following 1880, there is ample reason for believing that the industry
expanded and the products increased rapidly for several seasons. For
example, the catch in the Lakes was only 410,000 pounds smaller in
1885 than it was in 1880,23 and in 1888 the chief coastal areas, the

18 Statistics from following sources: Goode, Vols. II., V., Sec. 1. Report of
the U. S. Fish Commission, 1888; 1893, p. 146; 1895, p. 495; 1896, p. 576;
1899, pp. 109, 175, 372-80; 1900, pp. 200, 319; 1901, pp. 511, 580; 1902, pp. 440,
484; 1903, pp. 348, 416; 1904, pp. 648-51. Bulletin of U. S. Fish Commission,
1890, p. 78; 1891, p. 281; 1894, p. 350. Fisheries Documents 609, 620;
Statistical Bulletin 188.

19 Statistics are for years as follows: New England, 1889; all others, 1890.

20 Statistics are for years as follows: New England, 1898; Pacific coast,
1895; Great Lakes, 1899; Interior Waters, 1895; others, 1897.

21 Statistics are for years as follows: New England, 1905; Middle Atlantic,
1904; South Atlantic and Gulf, 1902; Pacific Coast, 1904; Great Lakes, 1903;
Interior Waters, 1903.

22 No values given.

23 U. S. Bureau of Fisheries Report, 1904, pp. 649-51.

366 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Middle Atlantic, South Atlantic and Pacific coast states, yielded an
aggregate of nearly eight and a half million pounds as compared with
less than four and a half million pounds in the earlier year.24 Every
pound of this increased coastal yield in 1888, however, was due to
the expansion of the Delaware Eiver and Bay fishery, which in that
year produced over 6,400,000 pounds. But even this phenomenal catch
is said to have been smaller than it had been a few years before.25 It
seems safe to conclude, therefore, that in 1885 the combined sturgeon
catch in the Lakes and in the Delaware region alone was not less than
25 per cent, greater than the total product of the whole country in
1880. If this be true the total catch in the United States must have
ranged at least somewhere above 16,000,000 pounds in 1885. It was
the demand for caviar in European markets and especially in Germany
which had more than anything else made the fishery profitable and
caused it to rise almost in a single decade, 1875-1885, to an industry
of important proportions among the valuable fisheries of the country.

By 1890, almost every district was beginning to show the effects of
the vigorous fishing which had swelled the total catch during the early
years of the decade. The declining supply was most marked in the
lakes, where the catch had fallen off by nearly three million pounds
in five years. The Middle Atlantic States then stood first, the quantity
taken from the comparatively small expanse of Delaware Bay exceeding
the entire lake catch by nearly a million pounds,26 the total being over
three times as great as it had been in 1880, but distinctly less than the
amounts reported in the intervening years. In the South Atlantic
States also there had been extensive declines in the sturgeon products,27
but since the catch in these areas increased to a marked degree in sub-
sequent years it seems necessary to suppose that the low catch of 1890
was due in part, at least, to other causes than scarcity of fish. Along
the Pacific coast, on the other hand, marked expansion was taking
place in the years preceding and subsequent to 1890, as the result of a
successful sturgeon industry established on the Columbia Eiver in 1888.
Vast quantities of sturgeon had been observed by the fishermen ever
since the salmon fishery had begun two decades before, but all that time
the sturgeon had been looked on as a nuisance and " in most cases was
knocked on the head and set adrift in the river."28 The abundance of
the supply available can be seen from the fact that two years after the
business was started the catch rose to nearly 1,700,000 pounds, and to
more than 3,000,000 pounds in 1892. This important increase in the
Pacific coast district, combined with the greater extent of the Delaware

24 U. S. Commission Report, 1888, "Statistical Survey of the Coast Fish-
eries of the United States."

25 U. S. Fish Commission Bulletin, 1888, p. 278.
28 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1899, p. 372.

27 U. S. Fish Commission Bulletin, 1891, p. 281.

28 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1893, p. 250.

THE PASSING OF THE STURGEON 367

fishery as compared with ten years before, accounts for the greater
yield for the country in 1890.

Statistics of the sturgeon fisheries in the scattered inland waters of
the country were collected for the first time in 1895 and added a little
over 2,250,000 pounds to the total.29 The major portion, over two
thirds, of this quantity came from a single area — the Minnesota waters
of the Lake of the Woods. The same year showed continued large
catches in the waters of Washington and Oregon, though a comparison
of the totals with the figures for a few years before indicates a growing
scarcity of fish and an impending decline.30 The Carolinas and
Georgia, however, were again yielding as much as formerly, having
recovered at least temporarily from the low condition of 1890. The
activity in these three areas helped to offset the appalling decline which
had continued uninterrupted in the lake region and the Delaware dis-
trict, as indicated by the statistical surveys of 1897. The lakes in
1897 produced scarcely more than one fourth as much as they had in
1890, and New Jersey, which alone had yielded over 3,600,000 pounds
in 1890, barely exceeded 1,000,000 pounds seven years later.31 On
account of these tremendous losses in the supply from the waters of
early importance, the total yield of the country had fallen only a little
more than half a million pounds below the figures for 1880, but over
a million and a half pounds below the total for 1890, and at least six
million pounds below the catch of 1885.

Two factors had played a leading part in maintaining the industry
against such odds as are represented in the depletion of the Great
Lakes and Delaware Eiver sturgeon. First of all the rising price of
caviar was a powerful incentive to pursue sturgeon fishing with in-
creasing vigor wherever a profitable catch could be made. Caviar
which had brought from $9 to $12 per keg of 135 pounds in 1885, was
worth $20 five years later, $40 in 1894, and before the end of that
decade had risen above $100 per keg.32 Sturgeon roe was no longer
fish bait and feed for hogs, and few sturgeon found their way to the
offal heap, at least, until after the precious ova were removed. Flesh
too was mounting upwards in price, reaching as high as 12y2 cents per
pound in 1896, where a decade and a half before sale had often been
impossible at even one cent per pound. From 1882 to 1884 female
sturgeon would bring as high as $2 each at the wharf, whereas fifteen
years later the usual price was $30 to $35 each. In the spring of
1899, for example, 96 sturgeon at Bayside, New Jersey, brought $3,923,
an average of a little over $40 apiece.33 Nowhere else in the whole

29 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1895, p. 495.

80 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1896, p. 576.

81 Bureau of Fisheries Report, 1902, p. 460.

82 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1899, p. 379.

83 Pennsylvania Fish Commission Report, 1900, p. 171.

368 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

annals of commercial fisheries is there a parallel to this case of the
sturgeon, rising as it did in less than a quarter of a century from a
fish despised and ruthlessly destroyed on all sides to the highest rank of
commercial value.

The high prices for caviar resulted in continued operations in the
old localities even in the face of greatly reduced hauls. This condition
is nowhere better illustrated than in the Delaware district, where the
average catch per net dropped from 60 fish in 1890 to less than half that
number six years later.34 Yet in 1897 nearly 1,000 fishermen were
operating over 150 miles of gill nets in the sturgeon fishery of Dela-
ware Bay and the number of boats employed had actually increased.35
At the same time operations were extended and expanded in every
available new area to supply the growing demand and to profit from
the rapidly rising prices. The sturgeon fishery in the Gulf States was
begun at this time because of the increasing scarcity of the species in
northern waters.36 The south side of Long Island was the scene of an
important fishery begun in 1892, producing more than half a million
pounds of products five years later,37 while the yield from interior
waters, though steadily decreasing, was annually forming a larger
proportion of the total output of the country. Only by most vigorous
means was the total extent of the industry maintained anywhere near
its former level, while the fishermen to eke out profits were endeavor-
ing to utilize more of the sturgeon by the manufacture of oil and
fertilizer from the carcass.

By 1897 the sturgeon fishery attained the highest point of its com-
mercial value, over half a million dollars, while at the same time it
appears to have reached its limit of endurance under the strain of in-
cessant demand placed upon it. In the decade elapsed since then there
has been only decline — decline almost universal and astounding in its
extent. In many places, the sturgeon is practically extinct and in
others, where once important fisheries were prosecuted, the industry is
nearly abandoned. New York and Pennsylvania waters have almost
ceased to yield sturgeon products despite the half million pounds from
Long Island in 1897. The same condition appears in the Carolinas,
while the species has entirely disappeared from the waters of Eastern
Florida and Oregon. On the Pacific coast, as a whole, where more
than 3,000,000 pounds were taken in 1895, less than four per cent, of
that quantity was obtained in 1904. The Middle Atlantic area as a
whole and the Great Lakes are now yielding less than one tenth the
amount caught two decades ago. Lake St. Clair, which alone gave
nearly a million pounds in 1880 has not produced more than 10,000

84 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1899, p. 371.

86 Ibid., pp. 379-80.

88 Bureau of Fisheries Report, 1903, pp. 443, 445.

87 Bureau of Fisheries Document 609, p. 29.

THE PASSING OF THE STURGEON 369

pounds in recent years, while the catch in Lakes Michigan and Erie
has fallen to about one sixtieth of its former proportions. In the
Delaware River district, the most prolific of all the sturgeon grounds
ever developed in this country, the depletion of the supply has gone
almost to the point of extinction. The total amount yielded from the
nets of the three states bordering the river and bay has dropped from
more than 5,000,000 pounds in 1890 to less than 350,000 pounds in
recent years.38 A quarter of a century ago these waters still literally
teemed with sturgeon, and it was impossible to dispose of all that
could be caught. Then it was not an uncommon thing to see 1,000
or more sturgeon on the wharf at Bayside, New Jersey, with shipments
of five or six carloads in a day to New York or Philadelphia. In
recent years to see a score of sturgeon on the wharf at one time has
been a rarity enough to bring the fishermen from miles around to see
them, and if five or six boxes are shipped at the same time the shippers
think they are lucky. Less than twenty years ago 4,000 to 5,000 kegs of
caviar were shipped annually from the Delaware district and dominated
the market under the name of Russian caviar. But the total caviar
output had fallen to 726 kegs in 1899,39 and at Delaware City, an
important center, where 422 kegs of caviar were prepared in 1895,
only six kegs were obtained in 1901, with even less since then, while
the price has been soaring above $1 per pound. It is a condition with-
out parallel in the annals of fishing.

With the single exception of the smaller rivers entering the Gulf of
Mexico, where the fishing for sturgeon dates only since 1897,40 all the
grounds show evidence of the same rapid depletion. On every hand,
declines of 90 to 95 per cent, in the last decade or two mean only the
one thing — that the end of the sturgeon is near unless the most active
and rigorous protective measures are speedily adopted.

This amazing depletion of a fish once " marvelously abundant "
must be regarded largely as a natural or at least inevitable outcome of
the character of the fishery itself. More or less weight must, of
course, be given to the amount of wanton destruction of the sturgeon
by the river and lake fishermen of successive decades before the sturgeon
fishery was established on a commercial scale. Certain injurious and
wasteful methods of fishing have also been employed at times, the worst
of which was the use of small mesh nets both by sturgeon fishermen
and by others, destroying many young sturgeon, the use of the three-
pronged grappling hook dragged over the spawning grounds, par-
ticularly at the eastern end of Lake Erie, and most of all the unrelent-
ing pursuit of the fish during the spawning season. The object of the

38 U. S. Fish Commission Report, 1888; 1896, p. 576; 1899, pp. 109, 372;
1901, pp. 511, 580; 1903, p. 345; 1904, p. 648.

89 Pennsylvania Fish Commission Report, 1900, pp. 170-71.
40 Bureau of Fisheries Report, 1903, pp. 443, 455.
VOL. lxxiii. — 24.

37o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

fishery, however, has always been chiefly to obtain the roe for caviar.
Hence the spawning time was the most favorable period for profitable
operation, and the fishermen, with their characteristic disregard for
the future, by incessant fishing practically eliminated natural repro-
duction. When the lake whitefish supply began to fail the fishermen
were required by law to return the spawn to the spawning grounds, and
when the Atlantic coast shad showed signs of depletion vigorous work
at artificial propagation was largely capable of counteracting the effect
of too much fishing. But the case of the sturgeon was quite different,
in that the profitable prosecution of the fishery depended mainly on
the amount of roe secured. In many cases, in fact, no other portion
was utilized until comparatively recently, when the price of the flesh
advanced. Obviously then a most serious difficulty stood in the way
of the adoption of those measures which had benefited fisheries for
other species. The high value of the hard ova to the fishermen and
their inability to use the soft or ripe ova in caviar have meant the most
vigorous efforts to secure the roe before it became soft. The United
States Fish Commission, and the states of Pennsylvania, New Jersey
and Delaware, have repeatedly tried sturgeon hatching individually and
in cooperation, but the difficulty experienced in securing ripe spawn and
milt at the same time has brought failure.41 The fact is, in the Dela-
ware district, at least, the species is so nearly extinct, and males so
scarce, that even when ripe ova are secured a male may not be taken for
several days or too late to be of any use. It is hard to see how this
condition can be easily remedied. With artificial propagation more or
less impracticable and natural reproduction reduced to an absolute
minimum, the fate of the sturgeon is obvious.

It is true, however, that some efforts have been made to prevent the
complete extermination of the sturgeon and to protect the existing
remnants of the formerly important fishery. The principal efforts have
been made through legislative action placing certain restrictions on
the operations of the fishermen. These restrictions fall into two
groups, first, making it unlawful to take sturgeon under a given size,
and second, prohibiting all sturgeon fishing at certain seasons. The
states bordering on the Great Lakes furnish the best illustration of the
first group of laws. Ohio in 1896 prohibited the capture of sturgeon
less than 2>y2 feet long; Pennsylvania passed a similar law in 1901,
and New York adopted a minimum length of 3 feet in 1902. Michigan
and Wisconsin, on the contrary, based their restrictions on weight, the
former, in 1897, setting 15 pounds as the lawful size, and the latter,
in 1903, prohibiting the capture of sturgeon under 8 pounds.

These laws do not seem to have produced the desired result or in

41 Bureau of Fisheries Report, 1902, p. 460. Pennsylvania Fish Commission
Report, 1905, p. 64; 1906, p. 23.

THE PASSING OF THE STURGEON 371

fact any important result at all, for the fishery has continued to decline
steadily since the laws were enacted. The trouble, however, lies not
so much in the provisions of the law itself, as it does in the difficulty
of adequate enforcement. The Lake areas are in this respect no differ-
ent from other localities, since laws protecting the young sturgeon of
the Delaware have been in operation from 1891, yet the fishery in those
waters has declined at an extremely rapid rate, and to a greater extent
than in almost any other region.

The other alternative of statutory protection, the close season, has
received less common trial because the only time at which a close season
has any value is during the spawning period, and at that time the
fishery is most profitable. The scarcity of such laws is probably due
to the fact that restrictive legislation affecting the fisherman's profits
has always been notoriously difficult to pass. Georgia, however, in
1901 prohibited catching of sturgeon in all waters of the state for a
period of five years. Minnesota in 1905 adopted a close season from
March 1 to May 1 of each year, but at the next session of the legislature
the Georgia example was followed in the provision for a close season
at all times until June 1, 1910. This sort of law seems to afford the
only real remedy for existing conditions. Complete prohibition is, of
course, much easier to enforce than partial prohibition, because where
sturgeon roe can be legally taken at all the carcass can be disposed of
readily and it then becomes a difficult matter to prove that the fish
from which the roe was taken was undersized or underweight.

With the difficulties confronting artificial hatching and the ade-
quate enforcement of restrictive measures, the future of the sturgeon
fishery depends on the absolute cessation of fishing for a period of
years during which the supply can be replenished through natural repro-
duction. Otherwise the total extinction of the species is as inevitable
as was the depletion of the supply. This chain of conditions is not
peculiar to the United States, but has prevailed in all the older localities
wherever the fishery has been prosecuted. Yet it seems scarcely com-
prehensible that a fish so widely distributed through the country, so
abundant, and so little used less than three decades ago, has so rapidly
disappeared that the end is already in sight. The higher the price
of caviar, the more vigorous the pursuit of the sturgeon and the more
quickly the end will come. Under the present conditions it is only a
question of a few years until the day of the sturgeon fishery will have
passed.

V

372 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

FOREIGN ASSOCIATES OF NATIONAL SOCIETIES

Br Professor EDWARD C. PICKERING

HARVARD COLLEGE OBSERVATORY

MEMBERSHIP in societies is, in general, a poor test of the quali-
fications of a scientific man. The case is very different, how-
ever, if we consider only the foreign associates of the principal national
societies or academies of the world. Their organization differs in
different cases, but, in general, each is divided into several sections, of
which that relating to the physical and natural sciences will alone be
considered here. The members are divided into two or more classes
which are called by various names. First, resident members, who live
in the vicinity, pay fees and practically own the society. Secondly,
foreign associates, who, as they have few duties or rights, and as the
position is a purely honorary one, are selected wholly for eminence in
a particular science. Their number is generally limited and on the
death of one, a typical method of selecting a successor would be as
follows : The matter would first be referred to a committee of resident
members in the same department of science. These specialists would
report one or more candidates, and the final selection would be made
by the entire body of resident members. Doubtless injustice may be
done in individual cases, but it is hardly possible that an unworthy
person could secure membership in many foreign countries. It is
sometimes stated by those unfamiliar with the facts, that a candidate
can not be elected without personal effort on his own part. This is
incorrect, as to my personal knowledge in at least half a dozen cases
the notice of his election was the first intimation a candidiate had
that his name was under consideration. It is possible that, in some
cases, a candidate may have aided his election, but it would be a dan-
gerous experiment, as many persons would vote against him for this
reason only.

Ten countries, not including colonies, have a population of more
than twenty millions : China, 432,000,000 ; Russia, 146,800,000 ; United
States, 86,400,000; German Empire, 60,600,000; Japan, 49,700,000;
Austro-Hungarian Empire, 47,000,000; Great Britain, 41,500,000;
France, 39,000,000; Italy, 32,500,000; Congo Free State, 30,000,000.
The population of Brazil is 19,900,000; of Spain, 18,900,000; of
Mexico, 13,600,000. Omitting these, and China, Japan and the
Congo Free State, we have the seven great nations of the world. The
national or principal scientific societies of each of these countries is

FOREIGN ASSOCIATES OF NATIONAL SOCIETIES 373

given in Table I. The name of the country, the name of the society,
the year of its foundation, and the date of the list of members em-
ployed in the following discussion are given in the successive columns.

Table I.
Societies

Country

Society

Founded

List

Russia.

Imperial Academy of St. Petersburg.

1725

1903

United States.

National Academy of Sciences.

1863

1908

Germany.

Royal Prussian Academy of Sciences.

1700

1908

Austria.

Royal Academy of Sciences.

1847

1907

Great Britain.

Royal Society of London.

1645

1908

France.

Institute of France.

1795

1908

Italy.

Royal Academy of the Lincei.

1603

1908

A list was next prepared of the foreign associates of each of these
societies. It appears that there are 87 persons thus honored by two
or more societies. Their names are given in the first column of Table
II., in alphabetical order. The present residence is given in the second
column. The department of science is given in the third column,
generally taken from that assigned by the Institute of France, or the
Academy of the Lincei. These classifications, which are nearly iden-
tical, are geometry, mechanics, astronomy, geography (including navi-
gation), physics, chemistry, mineralogy, botany, agriculture, zoology
(including anatomy), and medicine (including surgery). The year
of birth is given in the fourth column, and the age at the time of
election in the following columns. The letters, E, U, G, A, B, F
and I represent the seven societies named above, respectively. The
age is placed in italics to indicate resident membership. Thus, italics
are used, in the column headed R, in the case of all Russians. No
account has been taken of elections or deaths occurring after January
1, 1908.

In using Table II., it is extremely difficult to treat all nationalities
with equal fairness. Thus, a resident in one of the seven great
countries can be a foreign associate of only six of the societies. A
Russian could never be a foreign associate of the Russian Society,
while a Swede might be an associate of all seven. The numbers in
italics in Table II. are much smaller than the others, which shows that
less eminence is required for election as a resident member, than as
a foreign associate, or perhaps that a man's work is better known at
home than abroad. In a few cases, a man is elected into a foreign society
who is not a member of the home society. This seldom occurs except
in Germany, where a Bavarian, for instance, might be elected into the
Austrian Society, before he was elected into the Prussian Society.
Complications also occur when a resident member of a society moves
into another country. Fortunately, these conditions affect a few men
only. On the whole, the simplest and fairest plan seemed to be to

374

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Table II.
List of Members

Name

Country

Science

Birth

R

U
31

G
60

A
54

B

56

F
52

I

Agassiz, A.

u. s.

Zoology

1835

53

Auwers, A.

Prussia

Astronomy

1838

35

45

28

56

41

54

50

Bach kind, 0.

Russia

Astronomy

1846

37

57

49

Baeyer, A. von

Bavaria

Chemistry

1835

57

63

.;;>

50

50

51

59

Becquerel, A. H.

France

Physics

1820

...

85

84

...

69

83

Beneden, E.

Belgium

Zoology

1846

56

41

56

. * .

55

53

Bornet, E.

France

Botany

1828

74

73

...

...

38

Brogger, W. C.

Norway

Mineralogy

1851

47

52

. ..

51

53

...

Butschli, 0.

Baden

Zoology

1848

46

49

56

...

...

...

Cannizaro, S.

Italy

Chemistry

1826

63

62

63

63

69

47

Chauveau, J. B. A.

France

Agriculture

1827

■ . .

• • •

...

62

59

63

Christie, W. H. M.

England

Astronomy

1845

47

. . .

36

51

Darboux, J. G.

France

Geometry

1842

53

55

65

60

42

48

Darwin, G. H.

England

Geography

1845

. . .

59

. . .

34

62

52

DeVries, H.

Holland

Agriculture

1848

...

56

. . .

57

54

Ehrlich, P.

Prussia

Medicine

1854

• ■ •

50

. ■ .

• • •

...

53

Engelmann, T. W.

Prussia

Medicine

1843

■ • ■

...

55

52

...

52

58

Fischer, E.

Prussia

Chemistry

1852

47

52

41

50

47

48

47

Gaudry, J. A.

France

Mineralogy

1827

...

...

73

. . .

68

55

70

Geikie, A.

England

Mineralogy

1835

...

66

54

60

30

56

63

Gill, D.

England

Astronomy

1843

42

55

47

...

40

53

63

Gordan, P.

Bavaria

Geometry

1837

...

...

63

...

...

67

67

Groth, P.

Bavaria

Mineralogy

1843

40

•62

...

...

...

...

62

Haeckel, E.

Saxony

Zoology

1834

> > >

38

, . .

...

65

Hann, J.

Austria

Geography

1839

51

...

50

33

. . .

...

Heim, A.

Switzerland

Mineralogy

1849

...

47

57

...

Helmert, F. R.

Prussia

Geography

1843

...

57

. ■■

...

56

54

Hering, E.

Saxony

Medicine

1834

...

...

. . ,

61

68

...

65

Hilbert, D.

Prussia

Geometry

1862

...

45

...

■ ••

41

Hill.G. W.

u. s._

Astronomy

1838

. . .

36

...

64

65

Hittorf, W.

Prussia

Physics

1824

62

...

...

76

80

Hoff, J. H. van't.

Prussia

Chemistry

1852

43

49

44

44

45

53

49

Hooker, J. D.

England

Botany

1817

41

66

54

...

30

49

58

Hnggins, W.

England

Astronomy

1824

77

80

71

. . .

41

50

59

Jordan, M. E. C.

France

Geometry

1838

57

...

...

...

. . ,

43

57

Karpinski, A.

Russia

Mineralogy

1847

49

. . .

...

50

...

...

51

Klein, F.

Prussia

Geometry

1849

46

49

...

51

36

48

34

Koch, R.

Prussia

Medicine

1843

41

60

61

60

54

60

45

Kohlransch, F.

Prussia

Physics

1840

54

61

55

...

55

...

59

Kronecker, U.

Switzerland

Medicine

1839

. . ,

62

...

...

...

...

58

Lancaster, E. R.

England

Zoology

1847

48

56

...

...

28

52

51

Leydig, F. von

Wurtetnberg

Medicine

1821

76

66

...

80

...

Lippman, G.

France

Physics

1845

> . .

55

...

51

41

...

Lister, J.

England

Medicine

1827

71

...

70

33

66

Lockyer, J. N.

England

Astronomy

1836

. * .

• ••

■ ■ •

33

37

47

Lorentz, H. A.

Holland

Physics

1853

...

53

52

...

52

50

49

Mascart, E. E. N.

France

Physics

1837

54

...

58

...

55

47

62

Michelson, A. A.

U.S.

Physics

1852

36

...

...

50

48

54

Mittag-Leffler, G.

Sweden

Geometry

1846

50

...

...

...

50

54

53

Nansen, F.

Norway

Geography

1861

37

...

■ ••

34

39

Nathorst, G.

Sweden

Botany

1850

51

...

50

36

...

. . .

...

Neumayer, G. B. von

Saxony

Geography

1826

70

77

73

• . •

Newcomb, S.

U. S.

Astronomy

1835

61

34

48

69

42

39

60

Noether, M.

Bavaria

Geometry

1844

...

52

...

...

59

47

Ostwald, W.

Saxony

Chemistry

1853

43

53

52

51

...

...

...

Pawlow, I. P.

Russia

Medicine

1854

47

...

53

...

53

PfefFer, W. F. P.

Saxony

Botany

1845

58

44

59

52

55

54

Pfliiger, E. F. W.

Prussia

Medicine

1828

66

72

...

60

...

71

Picard, E.

France

Geometry

1856

39

47

42

...

33

45

Pickering, E. C.

U.S.

Astronomy

1846

27

60

...

61

61

55

FOREIGN ASSOCIATES OF NATIONAL SOCIETIES 375

Table II. — Continued
List of Members

Name

Country

Poineare, H.

France

Rainsav, W.

England

Ranvier, L. A.

France

Ravleigh, J. W.

England

Retzius, G.

Sweden

Righi, A.

Italy

Roscoe, H. E.

England

Rosenbusch, H.

Baden

Sars, G. 0.

Norway

Schiaparelli, G. V.

Italy

Schultze, F. E.

Prussia

Schwarz, H. A.

Prussia

Schwendener, S.

Prussia

Strasburger, E.

Prussia

Suess, E.

Austria

Thompson, J. J.

England

Thomsen, J.

Denmark

Treub, M.

Java

Tscliermak, G.

Austria

Valdeyer, H. G. G.

Prussia

Van der Vals, J. D.

Holland

Van Tieghem, P. E. L.

France

Walcott, C. D.

U. S.

Warming, J. E. B.

Denmark

Wiesner, G.

Austria

Zeuthen, H. G.

Denmark

Zirkel, F.

Saxony

Science

Geometry

Chemistry

Zoology

Physics

Zoology

Physics

Chemistry

Mineralogy

Zoology

Astronomy

Zoology

Geometry

Botany

Botany

Mineralogy

Physics

Chemistry

Botany

Mineralogy

Zoology

Physics

Botany

Mineralogy

Botany

Agriculture

Geometry

Mineralogy

Birth

R

41

U
44

G

42

A

49

B

40

F

33

I

1854

34

1852

49

52

44

51

36

43

55

1835

47

. • >

• • ■

. ■ •

...

42

53

1842

54

56

54

60

31

48

59

1842

53

51

59

65

53

65

1850

46

...

...

57

48

1833

* • •

■ • •

. . .

30

53

74

1836

• * •

68

51

68

...

63

65

1837

59

61

...

. . .

. , .

1835

39

44

39

61

44

40

1840

55

...

44

44

*. .

1843

54

...

49

...

52

45

1829

...

...

50

70

...

71

70

1844

• . *

54

45

...

57

56

49

1831

70

67

69

36

73

58

52

1856

• • *

47

• • •

...

28

47

1826

■ ■ ■

74

...

76

...

57

1851

49

...

48

37

1836

* • ■

45

89

...

61

47

1836

58

...

48

71

. * .

68

...

1837

...

• • •

63

...

. ••

63

66

1839

• . .

> • ■

• ■ ■

51

. . .

38

66

1850

45

46

...

...

...

...

51

1841

• • ■

■ ■ ■

58

...

63

65

1838

■ > •

• . ■

61

54

...

64

1839

• • •

...

...

...

61

63

1838

. . •

65

49

45

59

61

count the numbers in the last columns of Table II., thus including the
home societies. The results are nearly the same as if we omit the
home societies and diminish the numbers in each case by one. The
formation of the table by requiring membership in at least two foreign
societies is a slight advantage to those not resident in the seven great
countries, but they lose when italic numbers are included. The table
furnishes the means of making a count with any other conditions, but
it is not probable that the general conclusions would thus be changed.

Before discussing the results of Table II., it may be well to apply
certain tests to it. The English Order of Merit includes the names
of Huggins, Lister, Hooker and Eayleigh. They are all contained in
Table II. and are members of 6, 4, 6 and 7 societies, respectively.
Great care is taken in awarding the Bruce medal. The six living
medalists are included in Table II., the number of societies being
7, 7, 6, 6, 6 and 5, respectively.

Four of the seven societies confer a special honor on a few of
their foreign associates by granting them the privileges of resident
members, or by placing them in a special class of honorary members.
The names and years of elections are as follows : Bussia : Newcomb,
1896; Nansen, 1898; Suess, 1901; Schmoller, 1901; Wundt, 1902.
Prussia: Hittorf, 1900; Suess, 1900; Pniiger, 1900; Hooker, 1904;
Schiaparelli, 1904; Baeyer, 1905. Austria: Schiaparelli, 1893;

376

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Hering, 1896; Lister, 1897; Hoff, 1903; Koch, 1903; Agassiz, 1907;
Baeyer, 1907. France: Lister, 1893; Newcomb, 1895; Suess, 1900;
Hooker, 1900; Schiaparelli, 1902; Koch, 1903; Agassiz, 1904. As
the number selected is nearly the same in each of the four societies,
it might be expected that several of the men would be chosen by all.
Of the fifteen men, no one was selected by all four societies, two were
selected by three, six by two, and according to Table II. with one excep-
tion belong to either six or seven societies. Seven men were elected as
honorary members of one society only, and the names of two of them
do not appear in Table II.

Nearly every other honor than that of foreign associate depends
on other considerations than eminence. Thus, honorary degrees from
the great universities are often regarded as an excellent test of dis-
tinction. But many universities give degrees only when candidates
are present, and accordingly, one who always remained at home, from
illness or other causes, would be at a great disadvantage. This is
still more markedly the case with decorations, which are often given
for services rendered, or to the representative of a country, wholly
independently of his personal eminence.

Table III. gives for each country represented in Table II., the
name, the population, the number of members belonging to 7, 6, 5,
4, 3 and 2 societies, respectively, and to all combined. The total
number of memberships is given in the next column. Thus, if there
were two members each belonging to 5 societies, and one belonging
to 4, the total membership would be 14. The average number, or
the number of memberships divided by the number of members, is given
in the following column. The population expressed in millions divided

Table III.
Countries

Country

Prussia

England

France

United States.

Saxony

Austria

Bavaria

Italy

Sweden

Holland

Russia

Norway

Denmark

Baden

Switzerland....

Belgium

Wurtemberg..
Java

Population

All.

37,300,000

30,800,000

39,000,000

86,400,000

4,500,000

47,000,000

6,500,000

32,500,000

5,300,000

5,600,000

146,800,000

2,200,000

2,600,000

2,000,000

3,300,000

7,100,000

2,300,000

23, 700 ,000

7

4

2
1
1

1

1

6

1

4

1
1
1

5

2
1
2
1
1

4

5
2
2
1
1
1

3

3
4
6
2
2
2
3
1
1
2
3
1
2
1

2

2
1

1

1

2

No.

Soc.

Av.

17
13
12
6
6
4
4
3
3
3
3
3
3
2
2
1
1
1

77

63

49

28

23

17

16

15

13

11

9

9

8

8

4

5

3

3

4.5
4.8
4.1
4.7
3.8
4.2
4.0
5.0
4.3
3.7
3.0
3.0
2.7
4.0
2.0
5.0
3.0
3.0

2
1

1

1

1

1

1

1

1

35

10

11

10

14

7

87

361

4.1

Mill.

2.0
2.4
3.0

14.4
0.8

11.8
1.6

10.8
1.8
1.9

48.9
0.7
0.9
1.0
1.6
7.1
2.3

28.7

5.6

FOREIGN ASSOCIATES OF NATIONAL SOCIETIES 377

by the number of members, is given in the last column of the table.
Thus, Prussia, which has a population of 37,300,000 furnishes 4 men
who are members of all 7 societies, 1 of 6, 2 of 5, 5 of 4, 3 of 3, and
2 of 2, making 17 in all. The number of memberships is 77, or an
average of 4.5 societies to each member. On the average, one Prus-
sian in 2,000,000, appears in Table II.

Prom an examination of Table III. it appears that, with the ex-
ception of one botanist from Java, who should perhaps be added to
the group from Holland, no member resides in Asia, Africa, South
America or Oceanica. With the same exception, no member comes
from a colony or subsidiary country. The only members from North
America are from the United States, and no members come from
Scotland, Ireland or Wales. The number from the United States
is no greater than that from Saxony which has about one twentieth
the population. This is in part offset by the fact that the two Eng-
lish speaking nations, England and the United States, show a higher
average number of societies per member than any other nations except
Italy and Belgium. The very small ratio of members to population
in Eussia is largely due to the vast sparsely settled tracts of that
country where advanced intellectual work is impossible.

Grouping the members according to cities, we have, Paris, 12;
London, 10; Berlin, 10; Vienna, 4; Leipzig, 4; Stockholm, 3; St.
Petersburg, 3; Copenhagen, 3. It will be noticed that, with the ex-
ception of Leipzig, each of these cities is the capital of its country.
All the members from France, Austria, Sweden, Eussia, Denmark and
Java come from the capitals of those countries. Of the entire 87, 58
or nearly two thirds reside in capital cities. The average member-
ship of these men is also higher, being 4.3 for those in capitals and
3.9 for the others. Ten cities contain two members each, and seven-
teen, one each.

A grouping according to the sciences is given in Table IV., in a
form similar to Table III. The successive columns give the name
of the science, the number of members in 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 and 2 societies,
respectively, the total number of members, the total number of so-
cieties, the average number of societies per member, and four columns
indicating the country to which the members belong. The first of
these columns headed G, for Germany, includes Prussia, Saxony,
Bavaria, Baden and Wurtemberg; E includes England and the United
States ; F, France ; M, the other countries.

In eight of the sciences, the number of members is fairly distri-
buted, varying from 8 to 11. None appear in mechanics, 3 only in
agriculture, and 5 in geography. The grade, or average membership
is remarkably high in chemistry, 5.5, with astronomy second, 4.9. The
average for all is 4.1. Of the 10 members belonging to all seven
societies 4 are chemists. The distribution according to nations is

378

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Table IV.
Sciences

Name

7
1

6

2

5

4

3

3

2
2

M
11

s
45

Av.

4.1

G
5

E

F

4

M

1

2

2

2

3

1

1
2
1
3

1

4
4
5
2
3
5
3
3
3

35

1

1

o

2

7

10
5

11
8

11
9
3

10
9

87

49
16
45
44
46
36
9
39
32

361

4.9
3.2
4.1
5.5
4.2
4.0
3.0
3.9
3.6

4.1

1

2
2
4
3
3

7
1
3
2
2
1

3

1
2
1
1

12

2

2

O 1 J

1
4
1

1

1
2

3

2
1

3

2

5

3

?,

2

2

1
3

14

4
6

30

2
1

19

3

Medicine

1
10

2

11

10

All

26

instructive. In geometry, France has 4; Prussia, 3; Bavaria, 2;
England, 0 ; United States, 0. In astronomy, England has 4 ; United
States, 3 ; Prussia, 1 ; France, 0. In medicine, Prussia has 4 ; Bavaria,
2 ; England, 1 ; France, 0 ; United States, 0.

A grouping according to the seven societies is given in Table V.
The name of the country is given in the first column, followed by the
number of members belonging to 7, 6, 5 4, 3 and 2 societies, re-
spectively. Of course, the number belonging to 7 societies, 10, is the
same for all. The total number of members in Table II. is given
in the next column, followed by the number in each society who have
so far failed to be elected into any other society (except perhaps that
of their own country) and are, therefore, not included in Table II.
The sum of the last two columns is given in the next column, and
gives the total number of foreign associates. The ages of the youngest
and oldest foreign associate in Table II., at the times of their election
into each society, are given in next two columns.

Table V.
Societies

Society

7

10
10
10
10
10
10
10

70

6

8
7
10
8
11
11
11

66

5

5

8
9
3
7
8
10

50

4

6

6
9
6
7

12
10

56

3

16

7

16

9

15
19
23

105

2
1

3
1
1

1
2
5

14

II.

46
41
55
37
51
62
69

361

T

30

5

14

9

8

24

39

7fl9

All

76
46
69
46
59
86
109

490

Y

35
44
41
36
36
34
34

34

0

77

85

84

Austria

77
80

76

Italy

83

All

85

The order in which members were elected into each society, fur-
nishes a test of the care with which candiadtes were selected. Thus,
if the ten members of all seven societies had been elected into one
society first, and afterwards into all the others, we should say that that

FOREIGN ASSOCIATES OF NATIONAL SOCIETIES 379

society had displayed great skill and discernment in its selection. In
fact, the Imperial Academy of St. Petersburg elected four of these
men before their talents were discovered by any other foreign society
on this list, and two of them before they were elected by the home
society. If one society was always the last to elect we should suspect
that it awaited the judgment of others, in which case its choice would
have little value as an independent opinion. It might, however, be
due to other causes, as, for instance, a higher standard, if its total
membership was less. A society which elected many members who
were never elected into any other would appear to show poor judgment,
although other conditions might enter in particular cases. Thus,
every member must, for a time belong to one society only. The failure
to detect marked differences by these tests confirms the view that the
selections are made independently and fairly.

An examination of Table II. reveals some interesting cases. One
member was elected into the six foreign societies in five years, while
with another this period extended over thirty years. One was elected
into all seven societies before he was fifty years old. One has been
elected into the six foreign societies for eight years, and has not yet
been elected into the home society. One was elected into three foreign
societies before he was forty. * Three persons have been elected into
a foreign society after attaining the age of eighty, and ten before they
were forty. About two thirds were elected into foreign societies be-
tween the ages of forty-five and sixty-five. On the average, these
men were elected into their first foreign society about eight years after
election into the home society. The successive elections then took place
at average intervals of three years and a half. The oldest member is
ninety-one, the youngest forty-six. Many other conclusions regard-
ing age might be drawn, such as its relation to country, science or
society, but no striking differences have been noticed.

The most important conclusions to be drawn by inhabitants of the
United States, are that the representation per million inhabitants is
less than a fifth that of the principal countries of Europe. We have
no representative in mathematics or medicine, while in astronomy we
have three out of ten members. The explanation is not hard to find.
While immense sums are spent on higher education in this country,
the endowment for advanced research is comparatively small. As-
tronomy is almost the only science having institutions devoted to
research, and in which a large part of the time and energy is not
expended in teaching. Of the six American members, five have
occupied positions in which no teaching was required, but their entire
time was supposed to be devoted to original investigation.

38o

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE PKOGKESS OP SCIENCE

DOCTORATES CONFERRED BY
AMERICAN UNIVERSITIES

For the past eleven years there has
been published in Science each sum-
mer an article on the degrees of doctor
of philosophy and doctor of science
awarded by American universities. It
appears from these statistics that dur-
ing this period 42 institutions have
given this highest academic degree to
3,093 students. The number in each
consecutive year is represented graph-
ically by the height of the column in
the accompanying figure. It thus ap-
pears that, with fluctuations from year
to year, there has been a decided in-
crease in the number of those officially
designated as competent to teach and
carry forward research work. The an-
nual number first exceeded 250 in 1901
and 300 in 1905. After remaining
stationary for about three years, it is
this year 378. The middle lines in the
columns represent by their distance
above the base line the number of

300-
IJTO

100

SO

COOSOt— I N M ■* lO © s m

oscjooooooooo

Doctorates conferred by American
Universities

degrees in the natural and exact sci-
ences, the balance of the space to the
top of the column representing the
number in the so-called humanities,
including under this term history and
political science. It thus appears that
nearly but not quite half the degrees
are given in the sciences and that there
is a slight tendency for the sciences to
gain on the humanities.

Three fourths of the 3,093 degrees
have been conferred by seven universi-
ties as follows: Chicago, 410; Harvard,
380; Columbia, 377; Yale, 350; Johns
Hopkins, 333; Pennsylvania, 257; Cor-
nell, 203. The universities of the At-
lantic seaboard, with Chicago, thus
hold the position that Germany had
twenty years ago. As Americans then
frequented the German universities for
advanced work, so now they tend to go
to these seven universities which are
private corporations, though perhaps
Cornell and Pennsylvania are on the
way to become state institutions. The
great state universities of the central
and western states will probably wit-
ness a large development of their grad-
uate schools in the course of the next
ten years, and the south will follow
the same course in the following decade.
Wisconsin gave 17 degrees this year
and 19 last, more than double the
average for the preceding ten years.
Illinois, which this year received the
first special appropriation made to a
state university for graduate work,
conferred five degrees, as many as had
been conferred in the preceding ten
years. Michigan, Minnesota and Cali-
fornia have, however, remained nearly
stationary.

About twice as many degrees are
conferred in chemistry as in any other
science. The numbers have been:
chemistry, 374; physics, 177; zoology,
172; psychology, 157; mathematics,

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

381

144; botany, 137. There is then a
drop to geology with 76, physiology
with 48 and astronomy with 35. Uni-
versity work in chemistry is often a
professional course for the chemical
analyst or engineer and is thus not
altogether parallel with the other sci-
ences. It would be well if similar con-
ditions obtained in engineering and the
medical sciences, so that there would
be larger numbers from which those
competent to undertake research work
might be selected.

The universities differ in the relative
emphasis placed on the sciences and
the humanities. Thus at Cornell and
the Johns Hopkins nearly sixty per
cent, of the degrees are in the sciences,
whereas at Harvard, Yale, Columbia
and Pennsylvania the percentage is
about forty. At Chicago the percent-
age is 49, at New York University it
is only nine, and at Boston University
only two. It is commonly supposed
that the state universities are mainly
occupied with the utilitarian sciences,
and it is interesting to note that at
Wisconsin, Michigan and Minnesota,
respectively, 77, 60 and 70 per cent, of
the degrees are in the humanities.

The three or four hundred young
men added each year to those engaged
in the advancement of science and
learning are probably the most impor-
tant factor in our civilization. Not
more than half of them will accomplish
anything after their doctor's theses,
but the others may perhaps have their
places rilled by those who enter re-
search work otherwise than by the
ordinary academic routine. When we
remember, however, that about 5,000
physicians and lawyers are graduated
each year, the number taking the doc-
torate of philosophy seems to be small
— not in proportion to the population
and wealth of the country. There are
some 25,000 professors and teachers in
our colleges and universities and some
35,000 in the secondary schools; then
there are increasing numbers of posi-
tions in the government service and
elsewhere. The supply of men of the

right kind does not equal the demand,
and one of the most serious problems
that confronts us is to find methods to
increase the numbers and improve the
quality of those engaged in scientific
research.

AERIAL NAVIGATION

The center of interest — dramatic,
practical and scientific — at present is
in the demonstrations of aerial navi-
gation now being made in France
and here, especially by Mr. Wilbur
Wright at Le Mans and by Mr. Orville
Wright at Fort Myer. But the changes
are so rapid — at the time of this
writing Mr. Orville Wright has broken
the record four times in four consecu-
tive days — that only the daily news-
papers can follow them. A scientific
journal, however, should not go to
press without an expression of ad-
miration for the work of those who
have so successfully applied scientific
principles to the solution of practical
problems, and it is not chauvinistic to
betray satisfaction in the fact that the
United States, in the scientific and
applied work of Langley, Chanute and
Bell and now in the practical success
of the Wright brothers, has led the
way.

It may be that flying-machines will
only be used in war and in sport, but
history has shown time after time that
it is not safe to set limits to what
science can accomplish. It almost
seems to be a longer step from Lang-
ley's first experiments to what the
Wright brothers have now done, than
from this to complete mastery of aerial
navigation. It would of course be
impossible to accomplish this other-
wise than through gradual progress in
many directions. What is most needed
at present is an engine of increased
efficiency for its weight. Should this
be devised, the problem would be much
simplified. The dangers of aerial navi-
gation are more obvious than real. It
is now safer to go down to the sea in
ships than to ride along a road on a
horse. There is plenty of room in the

382

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Examples of Submarine Photography.

air, and it may be found in the end
that this advantage will more than
counterbalance the chances of failing
to the earth. However these things
may be or whatever may happen or
not happen, there is every reason to
congratulate Messrs Orville and Wil-
bur Wright on their great achievement
and on the careful scientific research
which preceded it and on which it rests.
This is true in spite of the catas-
trophe that has occurred since these
words were put in type. It appears
that government officials are respon-
sible for requiring the premature de-
livery of an aeroplane that would carry
two persons. To an outsider it would

seem that ballast should have
tried, and that protective
should have been worn.

been

clothing

THE PHOTOGRAPHY OF AQUATIC
ANIMALS IN THEIR NATURAL

ENVIRONMENT
At the seaside laboratory of Roscoff,
in 1893 and subsequently, Dr. L. Bou-
tan made the first submarine photo-
graphs by means of a submerged cam-
era. He was not successful with a
camera immersed directly in sea water,
owing to the lack of a suitable lens, but
got clear and good photographs with
cameras enclosed in water-tight boxes,
both with sunlight and in deeper water

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

383

with the use of the magnesium flash-
light and electric arc lamps, bince
that time excellent aquatic photo-
graphs in aquaria have been made by
Dr. R. W. Schufeldt, Mr. A. R. Dug-
more and others, but the photography
of fishes and other subaquatic life has
by no means reached the degree of per-
fection that has recently been obtained

water is shallow, and good results can
be secured when ways are found by
which the light reflected from the sur-
face of the water is cut off and a
smooth surface is obtained. In deep
water, however, and for many pur-
poses it is necessary to use a sub-
merged camera. Professor Reighard
describes the apparatus he used at the

Albrecht von Hallee.

Eminent as physiologist, botanist and poet, the two hundredth anniversary of
whose birth will be celebrated by the University of Bern on October 15.

in photographing birds and wild mam-
mals in their natural habitats.

Professor Jacob Reighard, in a recent
bulletin of the Bureau of Fisheries, has
taken up the subject and describes
methods of subaquatic photography,
both when the camera is outside the
water and when it is submerged. The
former method must be used when the

Tortugas, and examples of the photo-
graphs taken are here reproduced.
According to Professor Reighard's de-
scription, in the upper picture a
butterfly-fish (Chwtodon capistratus)
with a stripe through the eye and an
eye-like spot on the tail is seen over
a flat expanse of coral ( M eandrina)
and at the base of a large, branching

3»4

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

gorgonian. The photograph was taken
while the fish was in rapid movement.
The expanded polyps may be seen on
the gorgonian just above the fish and
elsewhere. The lower picture shows
a group of parrot fishes, of at least
three species, and several surgeons
against a background of branching
gorgonians on a ledge of rock. Near
the center is a blue and yellow-striped
grunt, Hcemulon flavolineatum. At the
left of this is a blue parrot-fish, Cal-
lyodon cceruleus. At the right of the
grunt is a green parrot-fish, Callyodon
vetula, about eighteen inches long.
Beneath the green parrot is a mottled
parrot-fish (Sparisoma?) . Above the
grunt is a second mottled parrot and
to the left of this a third. At the
extreme left are two surgeons, Hepatus
hepatus; a third is seen below the
green parrot. Above the green parrot,
in the background, is a purple sea fan,
Rhipidoglossa. In most of the fish the
details of the markings and the out-
lines of the scales are clearly shown in
the original photographs.

Subaquatic photographs such as
these show a lack of distinctness which
appears to be due to the turbidity of
even the clearest water and to reflected
light. But, as Professor Reighard
points out, the lack of distance and
flatness of the objects are truthful
representations of the conditions that
actually obtain. From the artistic
point of view, they can not be regarded,
therefore, as defects, though from the
scientific point of view they place
limitations on subaquatic photography.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS
We record with regret the death of
M. Antoine Henri Becquerel, the emi-
nent French physicist, and of Dr.
Friedrich Paulsen, professor of philos-
ophy at Berlin.

Professor C. 0. Whitman, head of
the department of zoology in the Uni-
versity of Chicago, has resigned the
directorship of the Marine Biological
Laboratory, Woods Hole, Mass., which
he has held for the past twenty years.
Professor Frank R. Lillie, of the Uni-
versity of Chicago, the assistant di-
rector, has been elected to the director-
ship.— Mr. F. J. Seaver, assistant bot-
anist of the North Dakota Agricultural
College, has been appointed director
of laboratories in the New York Bot-
anical Garden. — Professor Rufus I.
Cole, of the Johns Hopkins University,
has accepted the directorship of the
Research Hospital of the Rockefeller
Institute of New York City.

By the will of the late Senator
William F. Villas the University of
Wisconsin will ultimately receive his
entire estate, valued at between two
and three million dollars. By the
provisions of the will, Mrs. Villas re-
ceives the income during her lifetime,
and after her death her daughter re-
ceives $30,000 a year. After the
property is given to the university,
part of the income will be reserved
until the principal becomes $30,000,000.
The will provides for the erection of a
Henry Villas Theater, and for the
establishment of ten professorships,
each with a salary of not less than
$8,000, nor more than $10,000 a year.
— By the will of Frederick Cooper
Hewitt, Yale University receives $500,-
000; the New York Post-graduate
School and Hospital $2,000,000, and
the Metropolitan Museum of Art $1,-
500,000 and the residue of the estate.
—An anonymous gift of $100,000 has
been made to the Vienna Academy of
Sciences for the establishment of a
" Radium Institute " in connection
with the new physical laboratories of
the University of Vienna.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

NOVEMBER, 1908

DEDUCT EONS FROM THE RECORDS OF RFXXIXG IX THE

LAST OLYMPIAD

Br Professor A. E. KENNELLY

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

IT is much to be regretted that after all the races held in the ancient
davs of Greece and Rome, when the laurel crown of victory was
the height of ambition in youthful manhood, we have no means of com-
paring the achievements of their runners with our own. We shall
never know how their track speeds compare with those of modern times,
because records did not become possible until after the invention and
development of the portable chronometer.

The olympiads, or quadrennial athletic meetings of ancient Greece,
were held in such national renown, that they served as historical epochs
for the chronological establishment of events. Owing, however, to the
absence of sufficiently precise instruments for measuring and recording
time, each race or speed-contest, although an event of great momentary
importance, was necessarily cut off from all comparison with similar
preceding or succeeding races. The victor in each race overcame the
opponents who contested with him shoulder to shoulder ; but there could
be no means of determining whether the victor of a given event in one
olympiad excelled the victor in other olympiads.

With the introduction of the stop-watch, races ceased to be merely
momentary efforts for mastery in speed. To the interest of the local
and passing contest was added the new interest of the perennial con-
test, and of the record. In the racing of the finest horses, the record
has come to be regarded as the principal event, and the winning of the
race as the secondary event, after the excitement of the occasion has
subsided. In the racing of the swiftest men, the record is gaining in
importance; but we still attach principal attention to the winning of

voi/. lxxiii. — 25.

386

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the race, as did our predecessors in ante-chronometer days. Medals
are given for races won and not for records beaten.

It is, perhaps, our attachment to the interest of the momentary
race, and our ordinary indifference to the record, that accounts for the
absence of enquiry into the laws of racing speeds. If we ask either an
athlete, or a non-athlete who is athletically informed, what is the rela-
tion of a runner's speed over a long course to that over a short course,
he will immediately reply that a racer over a short course, like 100
meters, runs at a higher speed than over a long course, like 3 kilometers.
But if he is pressed for an estimate as to how much faster the racer
runs as the course is shortened, he will either be likely to express in-
difference, or to intimate the opinion that a precise answer is impossible.
Nevertheless, it is self-evident that the long list of records which have
been established up to this date for runners on courses varying from
20 yards up to more than 600 miles, determine the average speed which
the makers of those records severally adopted.

The records reported in the New York Times as having been made
by the winners of the flat races in the London Olympiad last July are
collected in the following table :

Length of
Course.
Meters

Winner's

Actual Time.

Seconds

Average
Speed over

Course
Meters per

Second

Winners

Time Esti-
mated ac-
cording to
the Logarith-
mic Straight
Line. Sees.

Discrepancy.
Seconds

Percentage
Discrepancy

100

10.8

9.26

Walker

10.45

-0,35

-3.2

200

224

8.93

Kerr

22.8

+0.4

+ 1.8

400

48.4

8.26

i

49.7

+ 1.3

+ 2.7

800
1,500

112.8
243.4

7.09
6.16

Sheppard
Sheppard

108.4
220.0

—4.4
—23.4

—3.9
-9.6

42,190

10.518

4.01

Hayes

9,390

-1 128

—10.7

In the accompanying illustration, these records are plotted on a
specially ruled paper known to engineers as " logarithm-paper " or
"log-paper," in which equal multiples scale equal distances, both verti-
cally and horizontally. The horizontal scale represents course-distances
in meters. The vertical scale represents running times in seconds.
The stars near the numerals 1, 2, 4, 8, 15 and 420, locate the Olympian
records for 100, 200, 400, 800, 1,500 and 42,190 meters, respectively,
according to the table already considered. The various circular dots
indicate world's records for running, taking the best from professional
and amateur lists published in the New York " World " Almanac.
The straight line is drawn through the record for 500 yards (457.
meters), and also through the record for 71/2 miles (12,070 meters).

1 This contest was reported "no race" in the New York Times of July 24.
The time, however, is here taken as that of the best preceding trial heat, won
by Haswelle.

RUNNING IN THE LAST OLYMPIAD

387

This straight line offers a simple approximate quantitative relation be-
tween record times and distances in races from 100 meters to 50,000
meters.

Considering first the black dots, or world's records, independently of
the Olympic records, it will lie seen that between 100 and 400 meters
most of the records fall slightly below the straight line. This means
that within that range the record times are shorter, or the speeds

420,

Diagram showing World's Records and Olympic Records in Running Races.

somewhat higher, than those represented by the line. Then, from 500
to 5,000 meters, the dots fall above the line. That is, the times are
longer, or speeds somewhat lower, than those prescribed by the line
within this range. From 5,000 to 12,000 meters, the agreement be-
tween the dots and the line is close. Between 12,000 meters and 32,000
meters, the clots again fall below the line; while beyond 32,000 meters,
they change sides and rise above it.

388 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Turning now to the Olympic records, we may notice that the 200-
and 400-meter stars lie close to the line; but slightly above the nearest
corresponding world's records. None of the Olympic record stars lie
below the corresponding world's records; but the 100- and 800-meter
stars lie close to the corresponding dots. The farthest away from the
line is the 42,190-meter star. It is to be. remembered, however, that
the Marathon race is run over country roads, up hill and down dale;
whereas all the other races are run on a smooth and level track. This
circumstance may account for all, and must at least account for part, of
the fact that the Marathon record is 10.7 per cent., or 1,128 seconds, be-
hind the time set by the straight line. As for the smaller discrepancies
in the other Olympic records, it is to be remembered that the contest-
ants in Olympic games are amateurs, whereas the world's records are
the best that professional as well as amateur champions have been able
to secure in all racing annals up to date.

So far as appears on its face, the illustration suggests that the ex-
isting world's records offer a better chance of being lowered between
500 and 5,000 meters, than those below 500 meters, or those between
5,000 and 12,000 meters. It is, in fact, generally conceded that races
up to the quarter mile (400 meters), inclusive, are the most stren-
uous, and that races of from half a mile to three miles usually
leave the runners in a less completely exhausted condition. If this con-
cession be denied, and we tahe it for granted that all these records from
100 meters to 50,000 meters call for like strenuousness of sustained
effort and degree of physical exhaustion from equally good athletes, it
is hard to explain the oscillations of the record dots in groups from one
side of the straight line to the other.

The straight line in the illustration stands, however, for much more
than a mere indication of possibilities in regard to records. It also
involves the conclusion that any record-making runner becomes ex-
hausted very rapidly as his average speed is increased. For example,
in the above table of Olympic records, it appears that the athlete Shep-
pard held an average speed of 7.09 meters-per-second over the 800-
meter course; but only C.16 meters-per-second over the 1,500-meter
course. We may safely assume that Sheppard arrived in each case at
the winning post, " run out " or practically exhausted in running
power; because if he had arrived with any residual running energy, he
would have thrown it into acceleration on the last lap. Consequently,
when he ran at 6.16 meters-per-second he ran himself out in 243.4
seconds; but when he increased his average speed, to 7.09 meters-per-
second, he ran himself out in 112.8 seconds, or in less than half the
time. That is, increasing his average speed 15 per cent, exhausted him
in-46.3 per cent, of the time. The law of the straight line in the illus-
tration is, in fact, that the time of exhaustion is inversely as the ninth

RUNNING IN THE LAST OLYMPIAD 389

power of the speed within the limits of racing speeds; so that a record-
maker, if he were able to double his speed, would become exhausted 512
times more quickly. Of course, the straight line can only.be regarded
as an approximation to the actual conditions, and we are not justified
in asserting that the law of the inverse ninth power applies strictly.
The exhaustion time as the inverse ninth power of the average speed is
an average law, derived from the world's records, as made by a number of
different individuals at different times. It is, however, certain that
whether the time of exhaustion for any particular racer is as the inverse
ninth, eighth or other power of his speed, it is a relatively high in-
verse power. We may safely conclude from the records that a record-
making runner can not increase his speed within racing limits without
bringing down his time of exhaustion very rapidly. Otherwise, the
record times over different lengths of course would surely follow a dif-
ferent series.

It further follows from this deduction that a record-making runner
can not afford to run at an unduly high speed for any appreciable time
during his race ; because, if he were to do so, he would thereby exhaust
himself at a yet more unduly great rate. It would seem that in order
to make his best time he must keep to a uniform pace, at least to a first
approximation. It is evident that on the last lap he will put forth all
his remaining effort, and spurt if he can ; because he should arrive at
the goal run out if he has done his utmost. If, however, he is able to
spurt to a marked extent on his last lap, he has held too much energy
in reserve, which he consumes unduly rapidly at the higher speed. Ac-
cording to the logic here set forth, he should have been able to reach
the goal more quickly by a slight uniform increase in speed over the
whole course.

According, then, to the deductions that the straight line of the il-
lustration leads up to, an athlete of record-making quality should be
enabled to make his best time over his best course or courses, by being
paced at a uniform rate, say with an automobile. This, however, as-
sumes that the runner would exert himself as fully behind an automo-
bile as when running shoulder to shoulder with an antagonist. This
is, perhaps, treating an athlete like a mere automaton, instead of like a
human being. It seems more reasonable to suppose that an athlete's
best performance can only be elicited under the spur and incentive of
individual competition. Besides, the interest of a race to the onlookers
would probably be greatly diminished if instead of the struggle of a
number of racers were substituted the effort of a racer to keep up with a
motor.

Nevertheless, the opposite proposition will be likely to meet with gen-
eral approval; namely, that the worst way to elicit a good performance
from a record-making type of runner is to incite him to an unduly high

390 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

speed at some part of the course before the end. The average speed of
a record-making Olympic nmner on a 100-meter course is given in the
table as 9.26 meters per second. In the 1,500-meter race, Sheppard
averaged, as we have already seen, 6.16 meters-per-second. Suppose
that he commenced, say, by running at 9.26 meters-per-second. This
would have been only 50 per cent, more than his average speed. It is
clear that, had he done so, he would have been run out in 10 seconds.
Again, if he had commenced by running at 7.09 meters-per-second, his
average speed over the 800-meter course, and not quite 15 per cent,
above his average speed over the 1,500-meter course, he would have
been run out after 112.8 seconds, or only about half way.

It seems possible, however, to combine the incentive of shoulder-to-
shoulder competition with uniform pace-making, and without loss of
interest to the spectators, by running a light flag or pennant by the side
of the track, on a slender wire of steel or phosphor-bronze. It would
only be necessary to set short posts beside the track, each supporting a
light metallic guide-pulley. Over all these pulleys would run the wire
alongside the track, making a complete loop or endless chain. The wire
would be propelled at some point in the course by a small electric
motor, driven by a portable storage battery, as in the outfit of an electric
automobile. An attendant at the motor would be charged with the duty
of keeping the speed of the motor and wire uniform at that correspond-
ing to the record for the particular event. By means of a stroboscopic
fork, i. e., a tuning-fork carrying slotted wings on its prongs, through
which a rotating target carried by the motor appears to stand still, it is
readily possible to keep the speed of such a motor and wire constant to
within a small fraction of one per cent.

When the runners were placed and ready to start, a small flag would
be gripped on the running wire a few paces behind the men. As this
flag reached the starting line, the starter would fire his pistol. Owing
to the starting inertia of the men, the flag would gain a few feet at the
first, and the runners would get under way with the flag slightly ahead.
Since the flag would reach the winning post in record time, it would be
the object of the men to outdistance it at that point. According to the
reasoning above presented, they should best be able to do this by keep-
ing close to the flag, which would serve as pacemaker. They should
certainly be advised thereby if they started off at too high a speed.
The spectators would have the advantage of seeing not only the contest
of the actual runners ; but also a contest with the " ghost " of the
best runner that heretofore had made the record of that event his own,
as impersonated in the flag running beside the track.

In raising the ghost of the record runner as above, there might be
a clanger of hurting the race by the runners losing heart if they failed
to keep up with the flag. There might also be a danger of the specta-

RUNNING IN THE LAST OLYMPIAD 39 J

tors' losing interest if the flag removed all temptation from the runners
to jockey for first place, thus tending to sustain monotony at the ex-
pense of sport. Whether these dangers are serious could only be de-
termined by actual trial.

It would, of course, be possible to reduce the speed of the flag, by
preconcerted arrangement, to a more readily attainable local record, in
place of a more ambitious world's record. One per cent, reduction in
speed might make a very marked difference in this respect. There can
be little doubt that the flag and motor-driven wire would be a useful
device in the training of runners for the track at suitably graded speeds.

The same line of reasoning applies to other races. If the world's
records in walking, swimming, skating, rowing, horse-running, horse-
trotting and horse-pacing be similarly analyzed, and plotted on loga-
rithm paper, the points will be found to fall very nearly upon a straight
line in each case.2 Moreover, all of the straight lines have the same, or
at least substantially the same, inclination, or represent and involve sub-
stantially the same law of fatigue. The only exception is found in
bicycle-riding.

2 " An Approximate Law of Fatigue in the Speeds of Racing Animals," by
A. E. Kennelly, Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences,
Vol. XLII.j No. 15, December, 1906.

392

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

MONTE ALBAX AND MITLA AS THE TOURIST SEES THEM

By Professor CHARLES JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

IN" April, 1908, while investigating the Mexican cycads in the vicinity
of Oaxaca, I took occasion to visit the ancient ruins on Monte
Alban and at Mitla. A botanist could hardly be expected to speak
with any authority upon archeological matters, but, having taken an
excellent camera for photographing the cycads, I could not resist the
temptation occasionally to point it at objects of mere human interest.
Upon examining the photographs, a friend, who has made some repu-
tation as an archeologist, suggested that an illustrated account, written
from the standpoint of an ordinary tourist, would be of interest to
the public, while the photographs might be useful to those better ac-
quainted with the general subject.

Oaxaca is easily reached. Starting in the morning from Puebla
over the Mexican Southern Railway, there is a pleasant ride of 228
miles through magnificent mountain scenery and prosperous planta-
tions. From Tomellin to Las Sedas, forty miles, there is a grade so

m\*

«■

WSn^HHBB

Fig. 1. Some bear Pictorial Inscriptions.

MOXTE ALBAX AND M1TLA

393

Fig. 2. The Big Tree of Ti i.e.

steep that I was told one could coast all the way from Las Sedas to
Tomellin. On the trip back I tried it and found it to be delightfully
true. On a small square platform, resting upon two pairs of freight
car wheels, the trip was like a long, breezy shoot the chutes, the speed
sometimes reaching more than thirty miles an hour. The precipitous
cliffs, lofty mountains and deep gorges, together with gigantic cacti,
are some of the sights of the Eepublic.

The station stops of greatest interest are Tehuacan and Tomellin.
Tehuacan is beginning to be called the Carlsbad of the New World,
for its wonderful mineral waters are producing cures which rival those
of some of the famous Mexican shrines. The water certainly has a
pleasant taste to recommend it and throughout Mexico one constantly
meets people who have been cured of various kinds of kidney, liver
and stomach troubles. At Tomellin, the Chinaman, Dick-Kee, who con-

394

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

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MONTE ALBAN AND MITLA

395

ducts the railroad restaurant, makes you wish that you could stop for
hours instead of only twenty minutes. On the way back, I had the
pleasure of stopping at Tomellin and eating at my leisure, while I
watched my less fortunate neighbors trying to eat three kinds of meat,
with side dishes, pie, cake and ice cream in the regulation time.

Oaxaca, at an altitude of 5,000 feet, has a climate like a perpetual
Indian summer. Already a prosperous town in the time of Columbus,
it has grown until it has become an important commercial center, and

Fig. 4. One can hardly realize that he is gazing upon Ruins.

its numerous cathedrals with their paintings and gorgeous decorations
have made it interesting to the artist and architect. The hotels are
good and the obliging hosts are always ready to arrange trips to Monte
Alban and Mitla.

Monte Alban is said to be about four miles from Oaxaca. It seems
farther if you go on foot. The average tourist, even though a bad
rider, had better get a horse. When the top is reached, more than a
thousand feet above the city, the view of the valley, with Oaxaca spread
out like a map, the little villages, rich plantations, and Tule in the
distance, is well worth even the climb on foot. The summit of the
mountain is covered by the ruin of an ancient city. Whether the in-
dividual buildings are temples, stores or palaces, the tourist can doubt-
less decide with far less hesitation than can the trained archeologist.
Some of the stones are large and well cut, some, like Fig. 1, bear
pictorial inscriptions, and some have outline images of the entire

396

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

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MONTE ALBAN AND MITLA 397

human figure, which to the novice look like Egyptian or Assyrian work.
There are pyramids with rude passages leading through them and also
chambers, perhaps basements of larger buildings with entrances of
primitive construction. There are no arches anywhere. Floors, which
in most cases are of a hard cement, resembling modern Portland cement,
are still in a good state of preservation. Considering the fact that it is
only recently that these ruins have been uncovered, it is not at all
improbable that neighboring mountains may also have their ruins of
temples and palaces.

mm

Fig. 6. Hall of Mosaics.

There is nothing to eat or drink on Monte Alban; consequently
those to whom twelve o'clock brings a restlessness which scenery and
ruins can not relieve had better carry a lunch.

A trip to Mitla can be arranged any day. The six-horse coach with
four horses abreast in front and two horses in the rear, is the usual
means of transportation. Such a coach, which will carry four persons,
can be hired for two days for $18 to $25 Mexican money.

About an hour's ride from Oaxaca is the little village of Tule.
Even the ordinary tourist must stop here to see the big tree in the
churchyard (Fig. 2), but the botanist should leave Oaxaca early by the
little tram car and study the tree an hour before the rest of his party
arrive. The tree is gigantic, measuring 154 feet in circumference six
feet from the ground. This means more than 50 feet in diameter, thus

39§

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 7. Hall of Monoliths.

surpassing the big sequoias of California. The height, however, as may
be seen from the picture, is not so great. Botanically, the tree is
Taicodium macronatum, and it is commonly called the Montezuma
cypress. The Noche triste tree in the City of Mexico belongs to the
same species. The swamp cypress of our southern states, Taxodium
distichum, belongs to the same genus, but not to the same species.
Without trying to find any fault with the tree, one might hazard the
suggestion that it may represent three trees grown together so that
nothing but peculiarities in the branching remain to indicate a
multiple origin. The Humboldt inscription, placed there by the great
explorer, is on the opposite side of the tree from that shown in the
picture, but is now almost entirely overgrown. There have evidently
been other inscriptions, but they too are overgrown, and a formidable
tablet warns the public against defacing the tree, perhaps referring
to the vicious American habit of cutting unimportant names in con-
spicuous places. There are recent tablets, flat on the ground at the
base of the tree, with large letters made of the teeth of cattle. If it is
all one tree, its age could not be less than three or four thousand years.
In the same churchyard there is another Montezuma cypress, twelve
feet in diameter, which shows not only in its general habit, but in its
branching, that it is a single tree.

The road from Tule to Mitla is sandy and dusty, but the scenery

MONTE ALB AN AND Ml TLA

399

makes one forget such trifles. The mountains on the right are rocky
and are covered with yellow and green lichens. Those on the left have
some trees and the valley hetween is fertile, and the people — as every-
where in Mexico — are happy and contented. Not to be forgotten are
a couple of little villages where one can get pineapple cider and lemon
ices.

Arriving at Mitla about noon, one is surprised at the comfortable
hotel with neat, airy rooms, clean beds and excellent fare. Even a
fastidious fault-finder could live there and. worry because he could find
nothing to criticize.

After luncheon, a five minutes' walk brings us to the ruins. The
crude remains on Monte Alban had prepared me for a disappointment
at Mitla, but the first view removed any such anticipation. One can
hardly realize that he is gazing upon ruins so old that no one knows
their age or who built them. The reader will admit that Fig. 4 looks
more like the finished work of an up-to-date architect than a ruin.
This picture shows the general style of the exterior of all the Mitla
ruins. Everywhere there is the same elaborate ornamentation.

The interior side of a building facing a large court is shown
in Fig. 3. The stair has been partially restored, but otberwise the
description made by Cortez applies equally well to-day. Through the
entrances at the head of the stairs one catches glimpses of the rooms

FlG. 8. A WELL-PRESERVED CORNER.

400

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

beyond. At present the rooms are not at all roofed over. On each side
of the central entrance is a hole in the wall from which an idol has
been removed. The court in front of the steps is of a concrete like
that found on Monte Alban. Monoliths like the one in the foreground
are fairly numerous. Another view of a court with buildings arranged
about it is shown in Fig. 5.

The rooms of the buildings surrounding the courts are still very
beautiful. Among these, the Hall of Mosaics (Fig. G) seems to be the
best preserved. If these long, narrow halls were ever covered by any
heavy roof, the ventilation must have been bad, for even in their present
open condition they are hot enough on a warm clay.

Fig. 9. The Stones above ti.e Entrances are very large.

Another hall, considerably wider and with a row of six huge mono-
liths in the center, is called the Hall of the Monoliths (Fig. 7). These
monoliths, which are about twelve feet high, seem to have supported
some kind of a roof, and, judging from their strength, the roof must
have been something more than cloth or palm leaves. The walls have
no mosaic ornamentation, but seem to have been completely covered
by a hard, thin coat of cement or plaster, which was painted a dark
red. Just beyond the second monolith one sees in the wall a niche
which may have contained an idol.

A well-preserved corner is shown in the following view (Fig. 8).
Since the masonry has begun to crack, steel beams have recently been

MONTE ALB AN AND MIT LA

401

^M^S&S

Fig. lu. Details of the Mosaics.

inserted above these two entrances. The rooms beyond the entrance
are narrow and elaborately ornamented with a pattern similar to that
in the Hall of Mosaics.

The stones above the entrances are very large. The one shown in
Fig. 10 is eighteen feet long. The side of the entrance, against which
the children are standing, is also a single stone.

The dark spot on the cement floor, seen through the opening, is
the entrance to a series of subterranean chambers. These are low,

vol. Lxxin — 26.

Fig. 11. Picture Writing.

4o2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

dark dungeons, ornamented with the mosaic patterns shown in previous
views. A modern steel gate with a big lock keeps out unaccompanied
travelers. After we enter, get candles and register our name and
address, the guide conducts us from one room to another, sometimes
coming up into rooms open above, but which we had not seen before,
and then going down again until we get bewildered.

The details of the mosaics are interesting (Fig. 10). As is already
seen from the picture, the design is partly cut and partly laid. The
pattern projects about two inches and in the lower part is very peculiar
in its angles and in the regularity of its irregularity. The entire struc-
ture, even the smallest pieces, is of stone, there being no bricks in the
construction. Not only the mosaics, but all other parts of the build-
ings are put together without any mortar or cement. The fitting is
extremely accurate and the edges of the stones, in many cases, are as
sharp as if recently cut. The stone is like that found everywhere in
the neighboring mountains.

Aside from the mosaics, the ornamentation has largely disappeared.
The guide informed us that even within his memory there had been
large patches of picture writing like that shown in Fig. 11, but that
enterprising tourists had cbipped off so much of it that the entrances
to the chambers had been walled up as in this picture, so that they
are now reached only when the steel gate is unlocked by the guide.
By looking closely just above the walled portion, one can see the gen-
eral character of this ornamentation. The groundwork is a hard
plaster painted a dark red, while the tracing is in white.

What the buildings were for is a problem which the tourist is more
ready to solve than those who are better informed. Perhaps these are
the ruins of a great temple. To one tourist, at least, they seem to
have been better adapted to the festivities of a great royal court. But
whatever they may have been for, they prove that the people who
built them were well advanced in art and architecture.

THE ROTATION OF CHOPS 403

THE ROTATION OF CROPS

By SAMUEL FRASER

GENESEO, N. Y.

THE rotation of crops or the order in which crops are grown upon
the same land during a period of years is of such moment to the
successful development of our agriculture, and consequently of our
national welfare that it must receive consideration. The farm value
of our farm products has increased rapidly in the last few years, having
risen from $4,717,000,000 in 1899 to $7,412,000,000 in 1907. The
figures indicate an increase in value for 1907 of 50 per cent, over 1899.
This remarkable growth in the value of farm products is largely due
to an increase in the area tilled. Now that the best land is settled, it
is essential to increase the productivity of an acre, and as the rotation
of crops is one means of securing this result its usage must extend.
The use of manure and fertilizers' have been recommended and proved
to be of value in the eastern states for increasing crop yields. The
value of plant breeding and the development of plants which are
capable of giving heavier yields and products of better quality has
been recognized; and the productions of many workers have added
millions of dollars annually to our national welfare. It is safe to say
that anything that benefits the farmer and increases his ability to
produce wealth is of distinct value to the nation and of direct interest
to the world.

A study of the rotation of crops used at any particular period in
the history of a nation is of value as a guide to the status of agricul-
ture. Agriculture had its birth in the ages of antiquity, when some
mother conceived the idea that she might save herself and her child
from famine by growing or affording protection to some of the plants
which furnished food. From this time on and for a long time the
requirements of the people were scanty, and the crops grown were so
few that no rotation could be carried on. Evidence shows that the
neolithic people of Europe had the rudiments of agriculture, that they
grew cereals, had cattle and were conversant with the arts of weaving,
spinning and pottery-making. Among other places, they inhabited the
hills of Britain and Ireland, where terraces made by them on the hill-
sides in Wiltshire and even as far north as the Cheviot Hills and the
Grampian Mountains of Scotland are still visible. These races prac-
tised irrigation and a system of agriculture something like that now
in vogue on the hills of parts of China and among the Coorgs, a hill

4°4

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

It is a Pour Course of (1) Corn, (2) Oats, (3) Wheat, (4) Hay — Timothy
and Clover. First year. Corn, grown for silage. About 10 tons of silage is cut
per acre. Corn permits of intertillage and cleaning the land of weeds.

tribe, in India. The inhabitants of Britain were Iberians, a non-
Aryan race and related to some of the hill tribes of India. The hills
were peopled first because they were free from trees, and the soil was
easy to till, while the valleys were swampy, marshy and often covered
with timber, which they had no means of removing except by fire. The
forests were held to be more or less sacred, even at so late a period as
the Eoman invasion. The Druid priesthood is held to be of non-
Aryan origin, but surviving a conquest, was accepted by the Celts.
Two Aryan races, the Celts and the Saxons, invaded Britain, one before
and one after the time of the Romans and both learned their agricul-
ture from the race they overcame. At this time the community gen-
erally owned the land, and its management was vested in officials
elected for the purpose. The Romans introduced individual owner-
ship, and this was never uprooted. It grew gradually under the
Saxons and more quickly under the Normans, but made its most rapid
progress during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when wool was
the valuable product and land was wanted for grazing sheep. During
this time the customary method was to cultivate a piece of land for a
few years and then, leaving it to go back to grass, break up another
piece, and cultivate it until it became unprofitable. It is interesting
to note that wherever population is scanty this method is adopted,
whether in the ages of antiquity in Europe or during the nineteenth
century in America. In some parts of the United Kingdom, modifi-
cations of this system existed at a comparatively recent date- The

THE EOT AT J ON OF CEO PS

4° 5

First Year. Corn. Whenever possible part of the crop is grown to furnish
corn and the storer (stalks and leaves) are fed to steers and young cattle. The
present high price of grain is forcing the farmers to grow more concentrated feeds
on their farms.

town of Kells, in Ireland, owns 1,700 acres, which was farmed by the
community. About 130 acres were broken up at a time, and were
cropped for four years with wheat, beans and fallowed and then seeded
to grass and another 130 acres were plowed. Stock was grazed on the
untitled land, each citizen having the right to put a certain number of
stock on the common. The town of Lauder, in Berwickshire, Scot-
land, had a similar custom- These examples illustrate some of the
methods in use when the Pilgrim Fathers sailed for America, and the
rotation of wheat, beans and then a fallow remained the most common
in Britain until 150 years ago.

Xenophon speaks of a two years' cropping of wheat and fallow, and
Roman writers remarked on the value of growing a leguminous crop
before sowing wheat, a fact which remained almost unused until 150
years ago and unexplainable until the close of the last century. Now
it is a maxim that at least one leguminous crop shall be grown in a
rotation, because such crops have the power of gathering nitrogen from
the air in the soil, and their roots and stubble when plowed under
enrich the soil in humus to a greater extent than most other crops.

In the early days of this country and in newly-occupied places it
was customary to grow one crop, either wheat, corn, tobacco or cotton,
as circumstances required, for a number of years upon the same land,
until the yield from the crop was reduced to such a point that it became
unprofitable. More land was then taken and treated in a similar

406 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Second Year. Grain Crop — Oats. On the Cornell University Farm yields of
50 bushels per acre are often secured.

manner. Such methods are permissible only in a thinly populated
country. Some time previous to this some men had noted that in
nature the crops grown on a piece of land during a term of years
varied, and it is common observation to-day that in the north, hard-
wood trees, as oaks, will come in where pines have been cut off. Hem-
locks do not succeed hemlocks. And even in grass land marked changes
occur in the composition of the herbage. During a period of wet years
Eedtop (Agrostis vulgaris) may assume the ascendancy on a piece of
land, and lose it just as quickly when an era of dry years occurs. To
secure a rotation of crops, it is essential that crops capable of being
grown in a district be known and that there be a market for them.
Wheat has been and is the pioneer crop of the northwestern parts of
this continent. Climatic conditions are important factors in deter-
mining the rotation. In Canada, oats, mangels, clover and timothy
may be good crops to include, but they would be of little value for the
southern states. Cotton, cowpeas and crab grass would be more likely
to grow. It was largely lack of knowledge about crops that prevented
progress. Clover and turnips were not grown as field crops in Eng-
land until about 170 years ago, and even about a hundred years ago,
Arthur Young said that probably not more than half the farmers and
certainly not over two thirds grew clover, although both turnips and
clover were recognized as of value in the sixteenth century, and turnips
were used as an article of diet at least as early as 1390. About 1730
Lord Townsend introduced on to his barren estate in Norfolk what has

THE ROTATION OF CROPS

407

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Third Year. Wheat. Preparing Land for Wheat. The last harrowing is
heing given. A fine tilth has been obtained as evidenced by the cloud of dust which
obscures the horses' feet, the harrow and the man. Certain crops permit the disin-
tegration of the soil particles by tillage.

since become known as the Norfolk four-course rotation, consisting of
turnips, barley, clover, wheat, and yet, in spite of the most gratifying
results, it took seventy years of demonstration before this system of
rotation spread over the county of Norfolk. Dickson, of Edinburgh,
Scotland, wrote a treatise on the rotation of crops in 1777 and in
1788 Marshall, of England, stated that a common rotation was: first
year, wheat, barley or bigg ; second year, oats, beans or pulse ; third
year, fallow. Although the value of a rotation of crops was known
to Camillo Tarello, who urged the adoption of such a system in agri-
culture in 1566, before the senate of Venice, it was little understood
elsewhere. Tarello was far in advance of his time and gave a list of
the advantages of a rotation, somewhat similar to those known to-day.
Yet his careful experiments remained unknown and little used until
similar facts were discovered elsewhere. In Great Britain, previous
to the translation of Tarello's article and the issue of other works dur-
ing the eighteenth century, the subject of rotation was generally passed
■over by reciting courses which might be good, bad or execrable, as
though their arrangement were devoid of principle and had absolutely
no relationship with the economical management of a farm. That
poverty in an agricultural community might be due to a poor rotation
•of crops and success due to a good one never occurred to the minds of
those who ought to have been interested. The value of carrying live
stock to consume part of the crops grown had not been recognized, and

408

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

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Fourth Year. Hay — Timothy and Clover. In 1903 the grass field was mown
twice and yielded 5J tons of hay per acre in two cuttings. In 1004 one field yielded
4Jtons per acre, the first cutting.

the truth of the proverb — " No grass, no cattle ; no cattle, no manure ;
no manure, no crops " — had not been appreciated. Townsend's four
course considered something more than supplying man with grain, a
new point of view arose, and in regard to it Arthur Young said : " The
grand article of all husbandry is the keeping great stocks of cattle ; for
without much cattle, there can not be much manure." Two out of
the four crops, clover and turnips, and the straw from the grain crops
were used for the live stock, either as food or as bedding and the result
was a large supply of manure and increased productivity of the soil.
The grain crops were separated either by an intertilled crop, turnips,
or by a legume, clover. Substituting corn for turnips we have a rota-
tion of equal value for the northern states.

The introduction of clover and turnips into England as field crops
is coincident with the improvement of live stock by Bakewell. From
this time on meat was added to the diet of the common people of
Britain, in small but increasing quantities. It is worth noting the
effect that the call for meat had upon the minds of the thinkers of
two divisions of the Teutonic race. The English school — including
Bakewell, Coke of Holkham, Booth, Bates and many others — set to
work to so improve the conformation of their breeds of live stock that
they should be capable of producing a pound of beef, mutton or milk
more economically; while the German school, led by von Thaer, began
the epoch-making research as to the influence of foods upon their live
stock, their efforts being to make the foods produce meat more econom-

THE ROTATION OF CROPS

409

Livestock is a Necessity ox a Self-sustaining Farm. Frequently the four-
course rotation used on the Cornell University Farm could be profitably made into
a five-course, by retaining the grass for two years, making hay the first year and
pasturing it the second.

ically. Thus the one school improved the animals, hut paid less
attention to the foods, while the other made the ration the primary
consideration. Lancaster County, Pa., has made history both for its
productivity and its rotation of crops. The two are inseparably con-
nected. Corn, oats, wheat and clover and timothy are grown in the
above mentioned order, and the farmers of this vicinity, realizing the
value of manure, have purchased western live stock and corn and with
the roughage grown have fattened the stock and made money. The
object of a rotation should be to convert sunshine into dollars, in such
a manner that the soil used shall be as productive at the end thereof,
if not more so, than it was at the beginning.

Wheat or corn growing employs a minimum amount of help for
short definite portions of the year. Mixed farming, where live stock
is kept, requires the retention of help throughout the year, and in this
way it is of social importance, a floating population being a serious
menace to a nation.

Where the one crop, as wheat, is grown, there is much more trouble
in maintaining the soil in good physical texture. When clover is
grown, the stubble and roots plowed under increase the amount of
organic matter in the soil, which upon decaying forms humus. Humus
aids in developing bacterial activities in the soil, the importance of
which is now recognized, although feebly understood. The strong
taproots of such plants as clover or alfalfa upon decaying leave air

4io POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

passages in the soil and subsoil, which are of great value in aeration,
and render the soil more habitable for certain useful bacteria and more
permeable to moisture and roots of succeeding crops.

Constant tillage of most soils may make the particles so small that
they tend to run together in wet weather and bake into a hard mass
upon drying. Putting land into grass for a few years permits the
aggregation of soil particles and in this way a rotation corrects injuries.

Fields in grass are less expensive to work than the same area under
intertilled crops as potatoes, or roots, hence a mixed farm can be man-
aged well on less capital than one entirely under tillage. If grass can
not be grown, alfalfa may be. Alfalfa is usually left undisturbed for
several years and like other legumes produces marked increases in the
succeeding crops. At Eothamsted Experiment Station, England, land
which has been growing leguminous crops for fifty years was plowed
up in 1898 and sown to wheat for the five following years with the
result that the average annual yield per acre for this period was 27
bushels on the alfalfa plat, 24 bushels after white clover, 23 after red
clover and sainfoin, 22 after sweet clover and 20 after peas, beans or
vetches, while on the plats growing wheat and fallowed on alternate
years for the same length of time, the yields averaged 7.5 bushels per
acre per annum during the five years under consideration.

Grain crops as commonly grown do not permit of intertillage, hence
the land is liable to become weedy. Intertilled crops can not be suc-
cessively and profitably grown for a series of years unless they are
specialties and bring high prices, as truck crops near towns. Under
these circumstances special care is taken in manuring and fertilizing
and in combatting insects and diseases. Constant intertillage depletes
the soil of its organic matter, the trucker puts this back in his manure.
At the Cornell University farm, which is run as a dairy farm, the
four-course rotation of (1) corn (land manured about 8 to 10 tons
per acre) cut for silage, (2) oats, (3) wheat (manured 8 to 10 tons
per acre) and (4) clover, 10 pounds, and timothy, 15 pounds of seed
(sown in the wheat), mown twice, has been quite valuable in bringing
a poor unproductive farm into a high state of productivity. About
10 tons of corn silage is grown per acre, 50 bushels of oats, 30 to 40
bushels of wheat and over 5 tons of hay per acre (two cuttings). The
root residues and the manures applied have been sufficient to preserve
and augment the humus content of the soil.

Many plant diseases and insect attacks are easy to combat if a good
rotation be adopted. These troubles have and will do more to enforce
the consideration of a rotation of crops than almost any other factors.
During the year 1904 in trials of mangels on the Cornell University
farm the value of a rotation of crops was shown. Two plats separated
by others had been growing mangels for three years. In 1903 the leaf

THE ROTATION OF CROPS 4"

spot disease (Cercospora beticola) was prevalent. In 1901 the crop
was sown on these and on plats which had been in corn in 1903 and
other crops previously. The disease attacked the beets on the " no
rotation " plats early in the season, and many rows had to be resown.
The yield per acre was 9.5 tons containing one ton of dry matter,
value $20. The yield per acre on the rotation plats was 33y2 tons
containing four tons of dry matter, value $80, a clear gain of $60 per
acre from the rotation of crops.

Different crops require different amounts of water to make a pound
of dry matter, that is, some transpire more than others, thus oats
will transpire 500 pounds, potatoes and corn about 300 pounds, barley
about 100 and clover frequently over 600 pounds. From this it will
be seen that the Maine farmer is wise because he is discounting the
season, when he sows oats the year after potatoes in his rotation of
clover (two years), potatoes, oats; thus a light water consumer is
placed between two heavy consumers. This is important since water
is generally the factor which controls the yield of crops. At Eoth-
amsted, England, where wheat has been grown for 60 years on the
same piece of land without manure or fertilizer, the average yield per
acre is about 12y2 bushels, while on land in a rotation — but otherwise
similarly treated — the average yield was about 26 bushels. During
the last 52 years the total yield of wheat is 665 bushels, which at
75 cents per pushel is worth $198.75. That of continuous barley
growing, also without manure or fertilizer, during the same time, was
868 bushels worth $131 at 50 cents a bushel. When wheat and barley
were grown in rotation with roots and clover or beans, without manure
or fertilizers, the yields and values of the 13 crops of each were roots
9.5 tons, $19; barley 333 bushels, $166.50; clover (5 crops) 1.12 tons,
$44.20; beans (8 crops) 101 bushels, $101; wheat, 335 bushels, $251.25;
a total of $591.95.

The income from the land under this system is in favor of the
rotation. It is $96.20 or 19 per cent, ahead of continuous wheat farm-
ing and $150.95 or 31.75 per cent, ahead of continuous barley farming.

Scientists have been kept busy explaining why we should get better
yields from a rotation of crops. De Candolle over 100 years ago
suggested that plants excreted a poisonous substance which rendered
the soil objectionable to others of the same species, a theory which is
again coming into some prominence. The continuous culture of wheat
and barley at Eothamsted was undertaken partly to test this. Experi-
ments now being conducted at Woburn Fruit Station, England, show
that grass injures fruit trees, and it is claimed that the injury seems
to be due to some poisonous substance, either direct or due to bacteria.
Liebig suggested that plants tended to exhaust the soil by the removal
of different ingredients and that as some plants took more of one in-

4i2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

gredient than others, a rotation tended to strike a balance.- The actual
amount of plant food removed from the soil by crops is infinitesimal,
and usually a good rotation will remove more than single cropping.
The losses of valuable ingredients from the soil by wind or washing
are of more importance than those lost by the sale of crops.

The practical benefits from a rotation of crops are now recognized
to be manifold, including greater ease in maintaining the soil in
proper physical condition; greater opportunity for catching and retain-
ing the water which falls upon the soil, and more economi?al use of it.
Insects and diseases are more easily combatted, and increased vigor of
the plants results in increased yield. In addition, labor, manures and
fertilizers are more economically used with benefit to the farmer, farm
and the nation.

PUBLIC-SCHOOL TEACHER IN A DEMOCRACY 413

THE PUBLIC-SCHOOL TEACHER IX A DEMOCRACY

By HENRY R. LINVILLE

NEW YORK CITY

THE present wide-spread interest in the economic situation of school
teachers in America has its sentimental foundation in the recog-
nition of the generally beneficent relation of the public-school system
to the people. With the gradual disappearance of ignorance and
open cruelty among those who teach, and the establishment of a more
perfect organization of the machinery of education, there has grown
up intelligent interest and admiration of our school system in our own
and in other countries. We, as well as our foreign admirers in educa-
tional lines, do not overlook the sad existence of evil conditions in out-
lying districts, but the energy of money and organization is being
directed to the wiping out of these black spots on the map. Except
for the occasional spasmodic anger aroused by local policies, there is
general satisfaction with our educational system.

And yet, when we observe the great body of personalities, men and
women alike, that transmit the learning of the ages to the young, the
conviction must slowly dawn upon us that in proportion to their oppor-
tunities the teachers of elementary and high schools in this country
do not measure up to the requirements of the situation. The ineffect-
iveness of school teachers in the most important functions of teaching
is general, and is tacitly recognized by the thinking public. The exer-
cise of commanding influence by them in any branch of social activity
is unexpected, and is almost an unheard-of thing. We do not expect
from this body of public servants constantly in touch with social
conditions effective leadership, or the suggestion of important con-
structive ideas. The originators of ideas for the betterment of man-
kind do not look to school teachers for support, or even for understand-
ing.

However, students of social life in America, know well the wonder-
ful advance in the quality of teachers within the last hundred years.
It is known that the schoolmasters of our English and Dutch colonial
ancestors were generally social derelicts, failures in everything else,
and much given to intoxication. We may safely claim that the advance
in knowledge and in respectability in the ranks of those who teach has
been greater than the advance of society generally. This hopeful fact
might render unnecessary critical studies of the personnel of the

4U POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

profession of teaching, if it were not that new ideas in education
urgently demand a hearing. These new ideas are concerned with the
development and perfection of natural tendencies in the individual —
which, if properly directed, would bring him into more sympathetic
and efficient relation with society. It is the purpose of this article to
show that the average teacher of to-day is not an efficient agent in social
advancement. There still persist in him low or vague ideals of con-
duct. His mind is hidebound, and he is indifferent to problems of a
social or political nature. He is aggravatingly humble, and forms a
willing block in the existing bureaucratic system of school government.

Persons of even moderately delicate sensibilities are certain to be
surprised if they come in contact with many teachers or principals in
any of our large cities. One must be limited in his acquaintance if
be does not know men in high position in school administration in
cities, whose brutality is evident in their treatment of persons beneath
them in authority, whose manners and speech are so coarse that their
companionship in polite circles would be avoided whenever possible,
whose selfishness and narrowness are so intense as to account fully
under the present system of school government for their advancement
beyond their less assertive fellows. Coincident with the lack of refine-
ment characteristic of some teachers in the public schools, there is so
general a deficiency of positive, militant and constructive qualities
that the profession in its entirety is noticeable for its lack of intellec-
tual alertness, of moral courage and of social and political understand-
ing.

The student of social conditions has no difficulty in assigning to
its proper cause the fact that in every part of the country teachers are
often treated with disrespect (tempered with occasional fear) by their
pupils, and with patronizing indulgence by people generally. In spite
of pronouncements by leading public men, and by newspapers on the
great and useful work of the public school teacher, the basic conviction
persists that the profession of teaching is customarily followed by men
who do not possess the force and manly power and the love of wide
activity that characterize men who engage, for example, in law or
finance. When the profession is entered by forceful young men, the
relation is frequently a temporary one to be given up later for " some-
thing better."

The average high-school faculty is a heterogeneous composite of
training and ability — a few forceful and several weak characters fre-
quently with only normal-school training, a few college-trained men of
ability not invited into college work, and more college men who never
would be invited. When all are together the quality of the mass is
distinctly commonplace, and does not contain the power of self-stimula-
tion. There is among them an undercurrent of feeling that they are

PUBLIC-SCHOOL TEACHER IN A DEMOCRACY 415

second-rate. This apologetic attitude is directly traceable as a result
to an ideal set up by the first universities, and maintained through the
centuries with increasing power. The great idea of the colleges and
universities has been that learning is the highest aim of education.
They have attained their present station as the result of working out
that idea.

In the undergraduate and graduate department of every university
in this country to-day, those men who are planning to be teachers are
definitely scaled by their professors, by their fellows and by themselves
on the basis of their ability as scholars. If they show unusual ability
they are set down as future college professors; if less ability, they are
scheduled as possible college instructors. The slow ones fall into the
heap of future high-school teachers, and are treated accordingly. As
long as the present academic and social grading of teachers holds
the high schools will have to be content with the less intellectual group,
except in the occasional instances where the competition for college
positions compels some able young men to take up a high-school career.
A high-school faculty then is consciously second-rate, and they will
continue to have that feeling, and to hold that place until society
advances to the plane of broader and more human, and less exclusively
scholastic ideals.

Naturally, one would expect the high schools themselves to begin
their own reformation, but the ideas for it are coming from elsewhere,
and the hearing for them will come in all probability from enlightened
minds in other fields of education, or in other lines of endeavor. High-
school teachers, it is thought, and they are so informed by their superiors,
have enough to do to attend strictly to their teaching. As a class high-
school principals and teachers alike do not think in any profound way,
for they give no proof of understanding the social and political con-
ditions under which they work as agents in a democracy. They have
no clear and adequate conception of the social and political functions
of the school. Their lives are circumscribed and restrained by school
laws, and often dulled by the insistent effect of hard, nerve-racking-
work. When the scholastic training is completed in some normal school
or college, the subsequent thinking of the average teacher is incident
to the occasional reading of methods. A very high percentage of
teachers in the largest high schools of this country make no study of
methods, and of the science of teaching, beyond what is necessary to
pass examinations.

A layman would suppose that in a profession dealing primarily with
the training and development of the minds of people one of the
best characteristics of a good mind, self-reliance and independence in
thinking, ought to be the possession of those who are in a position to

4i 6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

encourage the development of this characteristic in children. It is a
fact, however, that teachers even of the highest scholastic training, with
extensive opportunities of forming judgments of their own, are unduly
impressed by the opinions of persons in authority. With the leaven
of intellectual capacity in the body of teachers as it is to-da3r, there
might develop in the profession some general desire to study and un-
derstand the social and political conditions of life in this country and
elsewhere, and thus to see the problem of how to make the school con-
tribute to human progress — all this might happen if self-reliance and
independence of thought were permitted to develop in our military
system of school administration. There is probably no school super-
intendent in the country who would not urge his teachers to read and
contribute from their thought to the solution of academic problems.
He would welcome independence of thought as long as it is purely
academic. But it is a noteworthy fact that in general the opinions
of teachers on questions of school administration with local reference
are not wanted. If the opinions expressed happen to be in opposition
to those held by the " government," the teacher is guilty of " insubordi-
nation." Insubordination is anathema pronounced by principals,
school superintendents or boards of education against offending teachers
with such accompaniments of tyranny that it is small wonder that
teachers are most anxious to inquire what their superiors want them
to think or want. The writer was once informed by a superintendent
of schools of extensive reputation that in his opinion a teacher who
complained of the conduct of a superior officer should be punished for
so doing, no matter whether the complaint was based on facts or not.
Under those circumstances moral courage would seem to approach
foolhardiness.

In large communities where the individual teacher is unknown and
ignored, and the school government, only, makes representations to
the people, the security of the teacher resides in occasional state and
municipal laws designed to protect him from the machinations of
political parties, and in his ability to keep his mouth shut and support
the administration. His advancement to the highest positions depends
not on the possession of unusual ability, but on his capacity to " mix "
and make fortunate acquaintances among the officially powerful. In
one of the largest cities of this country, it is common among men who
are ambitious to hold high positions in the local educational system
to make it a point to belong to as many dining organizations of educa-
tional officials as possible, to attend public installations of principals,
leaving their classes to be cared for by the stay-at-homes, and to put
officials of influence under lasting obligations to them by promoting
subscriptions for the purchase of expensive presents, under the guise

PUBLIC-SCHOOL TEACHER IN A DEMOCRACY 417

of sincere appreciation. The plan works, partly because of the emo-
tional power of mutual felicitation, and partly because the administra-
tion is too busy to search for abler men who do not push themselves
into the official horizon. All this is politics of a subtler kind than any
the ward politician knew when in the same community he was the
brutal power to be feared and flattered by the hopeful teacher.

The law protects the teacher in his position from the party poli-
ticians, but it does not protect the public, and the public makes no
attempt to protect itself against the imposition of numerous teachers
who have failed to " make good." It is practically impossible in cer-
tain of the large cities of the country to dismiss a teacher or a principal
for incompetency. He can be harassed, but not dismissed. To a con-
siderable extent custom and state or municipal laws insure him (in
the case of teachers) an increase of salary as the years are added to his
tenure of office.

The law which protects the teacher from unscrupulous interests
strengthens and emphasizes the idea that public positions belong to
the holders, and not to the public itself. The facts that a poor or low-
minded teacher or principal may not only do infinite harm to human
character in formation, but that he also fails to do infinite good, have
not generally been taken into consideration officially in the best organ-
ized school administrations. If any one ever should suggest the idea
that by the failure of a teacher to do constructive good in his position
he thereby forfeited it, he would be set down as a " dreamer." Teachers
and principals have been dismissed for open cruelty or viciousness,
but not often for poor teaching, unsympathetic nature, low-minded-
ness, vulgarity, mental stagnation, and probably never solely for failure
to contribute something to the moral and social uplift of a little com-
munity— the school. So general is the idea yet among teachers that
their business is simply to " teach." A superintendent would need to
be strong indeed with his community, if he should undertake to dis-
miss his inefficient teachers. The worst of them have their " influ-
ential " friends, and the argument from " bread and butter " is well-
nigh invincible. Our conception of the importance of education in
the national life must become more clear, and our belief in education
more sincere. Perhaps then we shall have advanced to the position
that the selfish, incompetent agent of education shall not defeat or
hinder the purpose of a great public movement, no matter what his
personal needs may be.

The presence of inefficient and ineffective workers in the teaching
profession undoubtedly has much to do with the present low salaries
of teachers. The kind of work done, and the quality of it on the
whole, have not been good enough to enable organized education to com-
pel the payment of better salaries. Whatever complaints we may make
vol. Lxxni. — 27.

4i 8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of the dominance of the dollar in American life, the incontestable
fact exists that the public that pays out three fourths of its taxes for
protection of life and property willingly, pays out one fourth for pub-
lic education grudgingly. Why? Largely because the people are not
seriously impressed with the implied claim that the kind of education
they are getting is worth that much. It is altogether likely that con-
tinual agitation will result in teachers obtaining sufficient salaries,
perhaps even before the ideals of educational practise are modified in
accordance with the needs of human life, and before the people insist
that the inefficient workers shall not feed at the public crib. In that
case the people will be paying for something they do not get. Their
protection finally must lie in knowing what they want in education,
as they know what they want in food, but paying for it on the basis of
the best it can mean to them, instead of on the basis of the supply.

The wide-spread agitation for an increase of the salaries of teachers
has emphasized the fact that teachers display more enthusiasm over a
possible rise in salary than they do over any other movement looking
toward their professional advancement. Of course it is true that nothing
is more important than the wherewithal to feed and clothe the body, and
keep it in health. But after that is attended to appropriately, the mem-
bers of a profession supposed to be contributing to human progress might
reasonably be expected to have other enthusiasms, such as intellectual,
moral and esthetic. One who has witnessed at close hand the fury of
a campaign for equal salaries for men and women teachers in the larg-
est educational system in the country ought to have illuminating ex-
perience bearing on this point. When both sides to the controversy
spend days of time, and much energy and money, employ dishonest or
questionable methods to obtain the help of influential citizens or offi-
cials, accuse one another of rascality in public meetings — when men and
women teachers do these things in the heat of their anxiety for higher
salaries, the idealist who strives for the development of intellect,
morality and beauty, must stand aside abashed and all but confounded.

Continuous and earnest as the struggle is for higher salaries, great
numbers enter the profession every year, if only for a short time. It
is probably true that to a large extent men and women alike take up
teaching, because its returns in money are more immediate and better,
at least at first, than an equal amount of struggling for an economic
vantage point would bring in other fields of human activity. Among
teachers there is a constant increase in the freedom from such eco-
nomic competition as is necessary to hold a position once obtained.
Even to obtain the position in the first place, the competition consists
in a protected endeavor to increase the quality of formal scholastic
preparation, rather than in a sharp rivalry of manly or womanly qual-
ities. Competition between persons of good ability in the profession

PUBLIC-SCHOOL TEACHER IN A DEMOCRACY 419

of teaching is rare. The very scarcity of teachers in all parts of the
country indicates that the competition can not be sharp. It is but
natural that timid persons, or those doubtful of their powers, should
drift into teaching as into a safe harbor. Having once become settled
as teachers they tend to grow content and inert.

Almost the sole suggestion now offered for the improvement of the
great body of citizens who teach is to increase the pay. The belief
seems to be that a better class, of men especially, would enter the pro-
fession. To a certain extent the result expected would take place,
but it is very doubtful if remuneration for teaching ever could or
should be so great as to draw able young men from pursuits whose
chief human interest is that they are profitable. There will, in all
probability, always be professions in which more money can be obtained
than by teaching. When educational systems undertake to compete
with the corporations, for example, the educational systems must lose
both the contest and the moral standing they should hope to win. The
great danger is that higher salaries may add to the inefficient workers
who are already in the work for the money, and thus tend to perpetuate
a low ideal of service.

The idealist would have a gigantic task before him if he should
undertake to substitute directly for the ideal of money the ideal of un-
selfish public service. The " practical " man would admit that " pub-
lic service " has a pleasant sound, but " human nature " demands
pay for its work. This is sadly true, even while men's thoughts dwell
upon the high purpose of education. They remember the pay, while
their souls should thrill with the mighty music of a great idea.
True education develops power through knowledge, disseminates
truth, instills self-reliance into the minds of the young, teaches
the common rights of men, breaks the bonds of unreasoned au-
thority and frees the mind of the future citizens of the republic;
it gives them strength to withstand adversity, and leads them to love
the beautiful, and to discriminate in all things that bear upon the daily
joy of living. The practical thing to do is to put aside the fear that
" human nature " is going to stand in the way of the best that can
come to the race. The inevitable process of evolution will take care of
that, and give us a new and finer human nature. Then the question
will arise how to put the true, ideal education into practise, and how
to obtain the workers to carry out the purpose.

Among the thousands of " settlement " and other kinds of social
workers in the cities of this country there is a sympathetic interest
and a point of view which if enlisted in public education would be
productive of enormous good. Through the medium of the established
and natural relation of teacher and pupil, the human purpose of the
social worker now so fraught with discouragement and barren in results

42o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

would become practical. There is hardly any question that many of
the generous spirits who give their lives to the amelioration of social
conditions would gladly work through the agency of public education
if they could. The school is so dominated now by the idea of formal
education, and " what the colleges require " that considerations of the
physical and spiritual welfare of people seem merely incidental. More-
over, the administration of school systems is so autocratic, and the
officials often so overbearing, insolent and petty, that finer spirits pre-
fer to ally themselves with other movements. The loss to organized
democracy of these finer men and women is great, but more serious
still is the loss in a supposedly democratic country of the opportunity
to encourage the development of democracy by teaching the principles
of human right and duty in the schools and practising them in the
administration. No amount of knowledge learned as the result of per-
fect machinery of organization can justify the neglect to develop
democracy through our system of public education.

The officials of administration in school systems in cities in Amer-
ica consist usually of a board of education appointed by the mayor of
the city and one or more superintendents elected by the board of edu-
cation. The members of the board of education are business men
representing any profession except the teaching profession. Their
absolute ignorance of educational ideals is not considered a bar to their
usefulness and probably is seldom taken account of at all. The idea
is that the board of education represents the citizens, and supervises
the financial business of the system, while the superintendent looks after
purely professional or technical affairs. But the effects of the acts of
both sets of officials can not possibly be kept distinct. Every town and
city in the land has its bitter quarrels between the board of education
and the supervising officers. Each side is more or less ignorant of the
point of view of the other and indifferent to the point of view of the
teaching staff. All this is loose administration because there is no
unity of purpose and no centralization of responsibility.

Now, there is a very evident centralization of responsibility in the
hands of technical experts in our fire departments, boards of health,
and frequently in our police departments. What is the reason that
intelligent teachers may not hope for promotion to positions of admin-
istrative opportunity, if firemen may? Is it not true that citizens
generally would prefer an honest and able policeman as chief of police
to any able but untrained and hence ignorant citizen?

The assertion is often made that teachers are not practical, that
they know nothing about business. Even if that were true, it would
be an argument against the average teacher and not against the idea
of giving trained citizens the opportunity to direct those affairs they
know most about. With the agency for training ready at hand, it

PUBLIC-SCHOOL TEACHER IN A DEMOCRACY 421

would be strange if we could not develop men with initiative to plan
and skill to direct, equal to the combined abilities of those who now
control our school systems.

An arrangement by which teachers might advance as they prove by
their constructive ideas and their efficiency that they are fitted for
something else that the service requires, would be of enormous benefit
to the educational movement. The certainty that, for example, the
supervisor of manual training in a large city would be a man from
anywhere who could show from his published contributions to the
thought on his specialty that he was a master in it, as well as a teacher
and a man of unquestioned quality and ability — this would encourage
the young teacher to develop to the limit of his powers. When a career
of study and effort carries a man to a position of great trust and re-
sponsibility, the individual has obtained due recognition, and the cause
profits by having an efficient servant. When the position is obtained
without full proof of fitness, the individual gets what he does not
deserve, the administration deceives the public, and insults every fit
person in the service.

Assuming that the people will in time care enough for public edu-
cation to want it administered for the best results obtainable, it ought
to be feasible to establish a system which would be effective and not
become selfish with age. If systems of taxation can be submitted to
the consideration of the electors, systems of education ought also to be
within the range of the average intellect. We should scorn to employ
a board to do our thinking and acting on the tariff question; it is the
privilege of our American manhood to do that ourselves. Why should
we be so willing to accept continually the judgment of educational " ex-
perts," and thus cut ourselves off from greater proof of our claims to
social and political freedom.

There are questions of large import in education that could grow
into national issues, and be crystallized into shape by the collective
thinking of all the people. It is not inconceivable that some of these
might occupy the attention of congress to the exclusion of the usual
petty private interests of importunate individuals and communities.
Other issues of a purely local nature, state or municipal, would fall
for settlement to the sections interested.

There could be a member of the President's Cabinet, a Secretary
of Education, who would be presumed to represent the judgment of
the majority on national issues in education, and with his department
could have clearly defined relations to the state and to the municipal
or other local officials. The state and inferior boards of education
that touch intimately the privileges of parents, teachers and children
should be elected, and subjected to the will of the people through the

422 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

principle of initiative and referendum. That development of demo-
cratic government would make it impossible for officers of education
to command arbitrarily the inauguration of policies about which neither
the people nor the teachers had been consulted.

The power of initiative and referendum resting with the people
entirely, or in part with the teachers, would not necessarily be a
hindrance to the work of the local boards, but it would keep the interest
of all alive to the welfare of the schools. It would encourage and
demand greater knowledge of educational questions among the people.
It would crush for all time the autocratic spirit that rules sullenly in
the seats of a democratic institution. The existence of the officious,
overbearing and dictatorial superintendent and principal, and the
timid, sycophantic teacher would become impossible. Not only must
the relation of the boards to the schools be a democratic one, but the
school within itself must be organized on the basis of the same idea.
Teachers and pupils have rights which the autocratic principal of
to-day tramples upon with impunity, and he is upheld by the officials
who created him. The safety of the republic demands the abolition of
such a tyrannical condition.

A rehabilitation of organized public education along the lines of
the open and just recognition of the rights of all concerned, seems a
necessary prerequisite to increasing the efficiency and effectiveness of
all persons engaged as agents of education. The fair, honest and
public-spirited administration of the schools is a necessary preliminary
guarantee to the people that public education is a movement for human
progress, and for nothing less.

CELIBATE EDUCATION TO-DAY 423

CELIBATE EDUCATION TO-DAY

By E. S.

IN" our public schools are half a million teachers, of whom about
four hundred thousand are women. Of these latter over half are
spinsters or, according to official investigation and correspondence, have
taught eight years and upwards. They have crossed the female dead
line of matrimony, having reached the age of thirty.

The proportion of " old maids " is even more striking according to
the estimate of school officials in some of our larger cities. In San
Francisco, Pittsburg, Boston, Philadelphia, Buffalo, Denver, New
Orleans, Nashville, Chicago and Cincinnati the figures run from 50 to
as high as 80 per cent, with a general average of about 70 per cent.

These pedagogic conditions have grown upon us so gradually that
we have not stopped to consider their significance. It is, however, an
entirely modern development, really of the last fifty years. Less than
half a century ago men formed nearly 40 per cent, of the teachers ; they
are now hardly 20 per cent. Some of the largest cities show still
greater disparity between the sexes. In Boston and St. Louis, each, men
are only 10 per cent, of the teachers; in New York and Indianapolis, 9
per cent. ; in Cleveland, 7 per cent. ; in Philadelphia, 6 per cent. ; in
Chicago, Detroit and Eichmond, 5 per cent. ; in Minneapolis, 4 per cent. ;
in Omaha, 3 per cent. ; in New Orleans, 2 per cent., while Youngstown,
O., has not even one man in her 188 teachers. Our centers of population
are usually the most advanced in any social tendency and the small
number of men employed in them may be taken as an indication of
the drift of the whole country.

Throughout this paper it is to be remembered that to all general
statements there are exceptions, both numerous and brilliant, and
further that these theories of what is best to be done rest upon the
interpretation that one investigator places on the data of the past, and
the phenomena of the present, including testimony in the printed utter-
ances of other workers in the same field.

The era of celibate education is on us and it behooves us to take our
bearing to see whether we follow a safe course. For the male, we no
longer have any doubt, he has been tried and found wanting. He
dominated teaching for centuries as a celibate and now he is nearly
displaced. It can not be said that he was superseded, because there
were two sexes in the schoolroom as women were constantly engaged

424 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

in teaching as far back into the middle ages, certainly to a considerable
extent in our colonial period. The proportions now are reversed,
women being in the majority instead of men. The work of men was
deficient because bachelors can not really know life. Our civilization
is based upon the family as a unit and only married persons really
know the duties and demands of our social structure. As education is
nothing but preparing young people to take their places in the frame-
work of life, only those who know what that life is can adequately guide
these tender feet.

We tried to supply what was lacking by introducing woman, and
at first her natural tact, her sympathy and her deference to age-long
authority made her popular with educational management after the
first shock of conservatism had passed by. With the advent of the
public school system her numbers increased rapidly, especially when
she readily accepted a lower rate of compensation.

As each sex is only half of the sphere, is there anything in the tem-
perament of woman that will enable her to come nearer filling the
other half herself than her brother did? Just like him she is handi-
capped by the impassable limitations of sex, and, as with him, her nature
attains its full measure only through matrimony. The most fully
developed woman is the mother, next the wife, and least of all is the
" old maid." This last is entirely a modern type, scarcely going back
a century, and therefore her capacities are untried and unknown. It
may be said she discharges a new function among the many always
being created by our civilization, and has come to stay. Time can alone
decide whether any innovation will survive, whether the apparently
temporary will become permanent. But the question of sex is the most
constant and prevailing of all in the interests and relations of the race,
and the main features are neither of to-day nor of yesterday, but of all
time. Some phases of woman's temperament are the product of the
evolution of the ages, and are fixed. A reference to one or two of these
may throw some light on this problem.

There are unquestionably two considerations that make the chances
of women succeeding alone in this path more doubtful than those of
men. First, is her mother instinct noticeable even in little girls
playing with dolls. She grows to womanhood with the idea of queen-
ing it in a home of her own, least of all is it a part of her dream to rear
children of other women. It is a frightful wrench to her whole nature
to give up these aspirations for which she is not at all responsible as
they are an inheritance to her from the millions of generations before.

The demolition of this age-long air castle brings about a change
of her nature, more usually the souring of her disposition. It is well
known that she suffers from nervous troubles much more than the man
teacher and it is not to be wondered at. If we are to put any reliance at

CELIBATE EDUCATION TO-DAY 425

all upon universal attitudes and firmly crystallized expressions, her
married sister, her parents and her brothers, even the children in the
seats before her, all look on her as a failure in life, and, worst of all,
she feels the same in her heart. Such disappointment would acidulate
the sweetest spirit. Besides, she is leading an unnatural existence,
dealing with children of the same age twenty, thirty or forty years,
while the vast bulk of women have the care of one brood only from
marriage to death. The constant strain on her temper within the
school and without it makes her either querulous and harsh or flabby
and indifferent — both states disastrous for discipline.

For the interests of the student, and consequently of all the race,
is it a good model to set before maturing minds that the unmarried
woman is the best type of all ? Still more, is it wise to have examples
of mannish women, as so many of them inevitably tend to the paths
that men tread, after admitting to themselves that they are practically
excluded from the chosen sphere of women, the home ? Many of them
turn to money making with all the avidity of their brothers. We have
seen such exhibitions of greed and contentiousness among the women
teachers in two of our largest cities when they have banded together for
an increase in their salaries, going to much greater lengths than men
would dare to do under such circumstances. The influence of all this
will be felt in time upon the characters of the young.

All these weaknesses in the woman teacher have brought them-
selves to the surface; they are inherent, and therefore incurable by any
method of selection or supervision. If we add the fundamental argu-
ment that we have derived from the test with men it seems a foregone
conclusion that the celibate female teacher will fall just as far short
as her celibate brother ; she will fail in the schoolroom just as he did.

Failure is the lot of each because each is abnormal. " The normal
citizen is a father or mother," thus tersely and truly does the president
of the United States express the sentiment. If this is so and it has to
be, who can properly guide young persons into that realm except nor-
mal men and women as teachers?

Another deduction from this premise is that we must have both
sexes instructing the young. The difficulty with the male has been
settled, we no longer require him to be unmated. On the other hand,
it is almost an unfailing query on the part of appointing officers
whether a male applicant is married or not. In numerous instances
the preference is unhesitatingly given to the one with the wife.

This solution, however, should be impossible with women. It is
abhorrent and disgusting to the average person to think that men should
allow their wives to be breadwinners unless for special reasons. Again
has Mr. Eoosevelt summed up the case when he spoke of men as the home
providers and women as the home keepers. This is the result of aeons

426 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of evolution and any general breaking down of this line of division
between the duties of the two will end disastrously to both. There can
be only two causes for a wife to be in charge of a class, either she has
stifled all of the instincts of femininity or her husband is incapable of
providing for her. The latter is often justifiable because of misfortune
or loss of health. But as young persons can not discriminate, the
model before them is terrible. They can only see that the husband is
incompetent or the wife is unwomanly, miserly and penurious. A hor-
rible ideal it is to set before them that the chief aim of women in life
is to make money instead of to make homes ! In spite of this spon-
taneous repugnance there is a tendency to employ married women, due
most likely to an unconscious feeling on the part of educational officials
that the " old maid " is too abnormal. It is estimated that in San
Francisco 5 per cent, of the teachers are married women; in Denver,
4 per cent. ; in Philadelphia, 3 per cent. ; in Boston, 2 per cent. ; in
Chicago about 2 per cent. ; all a growth of a very few years. This is
a tendency that every one who at all considers the relation of the sexes
and the course of development must deeply deplore. The " old maid "
in the school is an abnormal exemplar but the wife is a thousand times
worse. The woman who neglects the highest, holiest — in fact the
only — duty of woman is a hideous monstrosity to teach duty to others.

The best type of male teacher has been discovered after long and
wide search — the married man. What is the best kind among women,
it is still more important to learn, as we have settled down for the
present beyond all doubt to coeducation and to having a large majority
of women teachers, whether good, bad or indifferent. The general
employment of married ones is repulsive and vicious. The single ones
beyond thirty are unbalanced. There is left only woman before that
age. She is still normal, still cherishing matrimony as woman's work
in life evolved for her through long cycles of time by biology, physiol-
ogy, sociology and the whole environment of existence. Her path has
been marked out for her and the laws of her progress along it laid
down by powers far above the scope and the strength of the race to
alter. So long as she looks forward to the goal of the wedding she
retains the feminine temperament. From the time of maturity until
she turns aside from the broad road that the most of her sisters follow,
she is almost at the high tide of woman's life. It is then her dis-
position is most sympathetic and her ideals the clearest and strongest.
She is then the most vivacious, the most animated, the most energetic
and the best fitted for training the young, because the most companion-
able with the girls and the best example of womanly graciousness. If
we can not have the highest type of normal woman, the wife, we must
come as near as possible.

If these golden years, however, are to be taken from a woman's life

CELIBATE EDUCATION TO-DAY 427

she ought to be adequately compensated. Salaries now paid should in
most cases be increased 50 to 100 per cent. Such a rate in every locality
would command the service of the brightest and most attractive women,
who are usually the most intelligent and the healthiest. There would
thus be a union of the highest qualities of character, intellect and
physique. The objection of cost comes to nothing when the sacredest
and most important concerns of life are involved. Of course, the
women now in the service should be retained unless they would volun-
tarily take the higher rate for the limited time. The vext question
of age can be easily avoided by placing the limit eight years after high
school graduation and five or six after collegiate. There would at the
same time be a splendid example to the girls as most of these teachers
would marry before the term expired or shortly afterwards. The girls
would thus be learning something about the highest duty of life, a kind
of inspiration that is given nowhere in our schools now except by fitful
instances. It must be remembered that there is a more solemn obliga-
tion of marriage than ever before if racial suicide is to be stayed.
Fashion and the social system are insistent upon small families, and it
is only by universal marriage that the native stock will reproduce itself.
It does not do so already in some sections, and it is significant that in
those places the spinsters flourish. Our highest institutions, the state
and the school, should not encourage the increase of old maids, as their
multiplication spells death to mankind. Vestal virgins are a luxury
that prosaic America can not afford.

As a corollary with the limitation upon the age of women teachers
there would need to be a certain number of men, not over one fourth
of the total, to serve as permanent directing heads. This ratio of the
sexes is entirely in keeping with the teachings of evolution. Two
principles of sex relations seem to be established in these cycles of
experience : ( 1 ) That both boys and girls are almost wholly controlled
by the mother up to the age of twelve or fourteen, with the father's
influence becoming more pointed after that on the boys and the
mother's continuing over the girls; (2) that all pioneering initiative
work, executive management, should be by men. With the men as
principals and assistant principals in every schoolhouse, with them as
directors of special studies and heads of departments in the higher
grades, there would be a solid core for the flitting women teachers to
group around and get inspiration from.

These men could be employed on a scale suitable for attracting
native strength and ability. They would be sure of a life career in
this calling after once having proved their fitness. In order that they
should be examples for the youth it should be stipulated that when
their usefulness ended their connection with the system would also
cease. Without any pension or dole of charity they would be a stand-

428 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ing stimulus to the boys that each should look forward to taking care
of himself, not depending upon his neighbors or his government.

This plan would cure two difficulties of the present system. First
the whole scale of pensions would drop away, as of course there would
be no thought of so rewarding the female teacher. Second the dis-
graceful squabbles that take place periodically between the sexes over
the question of equal pay for equal service would offend the ears no
longer. Each sex would be hired on the true basis of compensation
within its own ranks. That logical fallacy, such a fond subject of
dispute, the equality of work of the two, would appear no more. It
would be plain and above argument to every one that there is no such
thing as men and women doing the same work in the schoolroom or
elsewhere, and consequently to speak of equality of the two is absurd.
The relation is far higher than that of equality, it is that of indispensa-
bility. It is the same as exists between the two halves of a circle or
between the center and the circumference.

For some places, although the general rate of compensation would
have to be raised higher, the total expense would not be very much
greater. There would be no pensions, and instead of appropriating
public funds to people who give no service whatever every dollar would
get its worth in the devoted labor of both men and women teachers.

The school next to the family trains for life, for conduct, for char-
acter. The best method of development is that of example. What
better model for these maturing natures than a teacher who is a success ?
Success for women means marriage. This notion is entwined in our
very fibers so that we look upon the " old maid " as a failure in the
great female game of life. The man who can not care for his family
and for himself, who becomes a burden upon the goodness of his neigh-
bors, is equally considered a failure. It is not a good pattern to set
before the youth that the leader, man or woman, who daily instructs
them has not succeeded in the great battle of the world. The schools
should have the best and, in the long run, success, for the great bulk
of mankind, is the proof of the best: competency for the man and
marriage for the woman.

TEE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH 4*9

THE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH

By De. CHAS. W. SUPER

ATHENS, OHIO

ALMOST all the sounds that the human voice is capable of pro-
ducing are used to express thought, feeling, or will. Many of
these sounds are incorporated in articulate speech; but not all. It is
to be remarked further that the term " articulate speech " includes
many sounds that are not vocal, in fact the large majority are only
modifications of vocal utterance. The most peculiar of those occurs in
the language of the Hottentots: they employ sounds produced by in-
spiration or by means of the air in the mouth. These sounds are four
in number and have been described as the " interjection of annoyance
on the part of the owner when the china falls, the drawing of a cork,
the giving of a kiss, and the sound of encouragement to a tired horse."
They can be learned only from the natives by direct communication,
since it is as impossible to represent them graphically as it is the
croaking of a frog or the wail of a hyena. At least one writer main-
tains that they are the bridge over the gulf between the speech of man
and the cries of animals, and are the primeval utterance out of which
language was developed. No one tongue employs all the sounds which
the human voice is able to produce, or even a majority. The instruc-
tion books for English place the number at about forty; but this is
far from being all that are in use. Some languages, like the classical
Italian and especially the Finnish, in both of which the vowels are
numerous compared with the consonants, have few sounds and such as
are easy of utterance. Conversely, the Kussian employs combinations
of consonants that it is almost impossible for adult foreigners to pro-
duce.

It must be remembered that a literary language is an artificial crea-
tion. Even the best instructed people do not speak as they write. The
national adjective by which a language is designated is a much mis-
understood word. England is a comparatively small country, yet to
the ear there is much diversity in English speech. Tins diversity grows
slowly less and less with the advance of national education, since by this
means each rising generation is gradually led to conform to a common
type. Appleton Morgan, the president of the New York Shakespeare
Society, affirms that the members of Queen Elizabeth's parliament could
not understand one another. This statement does not mean that the
dialects of the different counties were as diverse as if they had been
foreign tongues, but only that the diversities were of such a nature

43° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

as to make complete reciprocal comprehension impossible. At this
day the speech of the outlying districts differs to a greater or less
extent from that of the capital. We may see, or rather we may hear,
the same thing in France and Spain. Although Italy, until recently,
had no political capital, Florence has for more than six centuries been
the fountain-head of pure Italian, for the reason that the coryphaei of
Italian literature were natives of the Florentine district. Much of the
so-called Italian used by the uneducated bears hardly more resemblance
to the literary type than another language. The same is true of Ger-
many. What is regarded as the best German is spoken near the middle
of the present empire, and to it foreigners usually try to conform. The
Germans themselves are rather careless about the matter and are con-
tent to speak a tongue more or less marked by local words and by a
distinctive pronunciation. The speech of Holstein, on the one hand,
and that of South Germany and Switzerland, on the other, differs so
widely that the natives of these regions who know only their mother
dialect are unable to understand one another. I read somewhere that
when Schiller first declaimed his early dramas before a middle German
audience he was only half understood and that their merit was not
appreciated until they were read aloud in a pronunciation unmarred
by Swabian, the only kind of German he knew. Even so small a
country as Denmark is not without its local peculiarities of speech. In
the United States the diversities of speech are so slight as to occasion
no inconvenience to a person passing from one end of the country to
the other. The reason is that the Atlantic seaboard, roughly speaking,
provided the norm for all the region extending westward to the Pacific.
The Mississippi valley and the Far West are simply a linguistic exten-
sion of the East. The origin of dialects within a given language can
only be accounted for hypothetically. They seem to be due to phonetic
laws that operated on a larger scale in producing the wider divergencies
of speech which are called languages. Limiting the statement to the
Aryan stock, it is assumed by philologists that its eight branches are all
descendants from one primitive tongue which was at first spoken by
a comparatively small tribe. In the course of time the initial group
scattered or was dispersed and each fragment became the nucleus of a
new language. It needs but a superficial study of all the languages of
Europe to make it evident that except the Finnish, the Magyar and
the Turkish, together with a few smaller groups, they have many points
of resemblance. When, however, we examine the structure of the
three just named, we soon find a fundamental difference which is, how-
ever, common to the trio. The farther back we trace these eight
languages, the closer becomes the resemblance. That the Irish branch
of the Keltic differs more widely from the Kussian than does the
German is owing to the fact that the early settlers of Erin split off
from the parent stock at a period prior to those of central and northern

THE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH 431

Europe. This is the usual assumption, but it must always remain a
hypothesis like so many other explanations of prehistoric phenomena.
That English resembles the Scandinavian languages more than it does
the German will not surprise any one who takes account of the early
history of Great Britain. But who will tell us what brought about the
transformation of the prepositive article, as we find it in English and
German into a suffix which is its normal position in the Danish-Nor-
wegian and Swedish, a transposition that seems to have taken place
less than a millennium ago?

It is probable then that the same psychic cause led to the forma-
tion of dialects that in remoter ages produced separate languages. We
know that the primitive Germans were a migratory people. At one
time and another they are heard from in almost every part of Europe
except Russia, because their movements were always southward or
westward. When they were constrained to adopt a more fixed mode of
life, there was but little intercourse between the different tribes; the
divergences of speech, therefore, that had doubtless already begun to
manifest themselves, became more and more marked until the intro-
duction of letters among them virtually put an end to the disintegra-
tion. We find a similar phenomenon in South Africa. That conti-
nent from the equator to the Cape is occupied by the Bantus, except
a few enclaves, whose dialects have a clearly marked relationship. No
philologist ventures to affirm where the starting-point is to be found,
although the general movement seems to have been from north to
south. It is remarkable with what tenacity the natives of any par-
ticular district cling to the vernacular which they have received by
inheritance. The student of the oldest German is constantly sur-
prised by many words, and especially by a pronunciation still in use in
southwest Germany, a region in which the language was first reduced
to writing, that have undergone but little change in six or seven cen-
turies. We find the same thing in other countries and in England.
The unlettered still use words that are only found in the dialect dic-
tionaries; and, as these are a modern innovation, they must have been
transmitted orally through many generations. It is more than prob-
able that of the words in common use to-day not a few are pronounced
as they were in Shakespeare's time, or even in Chaucer's. There is
a considerable number in the former writer with which he evidently
makes puns and rhymes, but which lose their point if we give to them
the pronunciation now assigned to them by our dictionaries. Evidently
beat and bait were pronounced alike; so were louse and luce, Moor and
more, mode and wood, and so on. I remember hearing in my youth in
Pennsylvania some of my father's neighbors say " yarbs " for herbs,
" coo " for cow, but by a singular perversity " cowcumber " for
cucumber, " af eard," "pore" (poor), " sturk," together with several
other archaisms. As the people who talked in this way were very

43 2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

illiterate and did not know whence their ancestors came, they can only
have inherited, by oral tradition, the words brought generations before
by immigrants from the mother country. It is strange with what
tenacity the best-instructed persons are wont to cling to the past in
matters of speech. When they can not do so in pronunciation, they
show their fidelity to the same instinct in orthography.1 They would
greet with a guffaw the suggestion that they should travel, or live, or
dress as did their grandfathers, or even their fathers; but they adhere
to the spelling of the tenth preceding generation with a tenacity worthy
of a nobler cause. In France no less than in England the spelling
reformers have an almost insurmountable task before them. It is
worthy of remark, however, that many words are pronounced by
Americans more nearly as printed than by Englishmen. One seldom
knows how to pronounce an English proper name from the printed
page.

The primitive races exhibit a lack of capacity for abstract thought
that is well nigh incredible. It seems almost impossible for them to
generalize. Every perceived object has a separate name because it is
a separate entity. Among the Innuits an older brother, a younger
brother, a youngest brother, is each designated by a different term.
The same is true of sisters ; and when a brother, a sister or a father is
deceased, still another word is employed when speaking of them. The
Lapps have a word to designate the relationship of the husband of a
man's sister, and another to designate that of men who have married
sisters, but their language lacks one for brother-in-law. In this respect
these and other languages are more definite than the English or the
German. The Greek and Latin are still more careless in the designa-
tion of relationship by marriage. Herein all the primitive races have

1 The following bits of verse, which I found somewhere, facetiously but
truthfully represent some of the vagaries of our English pronunciation and
orthography :

My wife had a dog yclept Caesar,
As a gift he was given to please her.
One day he attempted to seize her,
Angry, perhaps, or to tease her.
She said : " I'd be glad if some bees or
Wasps would do him to death, or a freeze, for
I've no more int'rest in him."

Wife, make me some dumplings of dough,

They're better than meat for my cough;
Pray, let them be boiled till hot through,

But not till they're heavy or tough.
Now I must be off to the plough,

And the boys, when they've all had enough
Must keep the flies off with a bough

While the black mare drinks at the trough.

THE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH 433

a well-supplied vocabulary. The range of their observations being
limited, the natural tendency to loquacity manifests itself by multiply-
ing words for the same or nearly the same object. It is not an un-
common thing to find persons even in civilized countries whose words
are numerous in an inverse ratio to their thoughts. It is very much
easier to talk than to think. The language-making faculty produces
such a luxuriant crop of words that where the range of percepts is
circumscribed it invents a new word for every possible relation in
which they may be perceived. If the conditions of the primitive races
were changed they would probably find their vocabulary sadly deficient.
Under such circumstances it is likely that they would invent a new
stock of words, using the material on hand as a basis as far as it would
reach. Such we may suppose to be the case of the Eskimo and the
Kafirs, if they were to exchange habitats. On the other hand, it needs
to be said that this proceeding is not carried very far, but new objects
are named by words used to designate them by the people that serve
as intermediaries. We accordingly find among the Eskimo of the
northwest a number of terms borrowed from the Eussians, and, among
the native tribes of Africa, words appropriated from the Arabic, the
Portuguese and the English, always trimmed to fit the native vocal
organs ; for it must be remembered that they are learned by adults and
not by children, whose vocal organs are sufficiently plastic to reproduce
any sound accurately. The process may be seen among the Vai, a
dialect of the Mande spoken to some extent in the republic of Liberia :
lamp becomes " dampo," bowl " bowli " or " bowri," fork " f urokia,"
hundred " hondoro," coat " coti," pillow " puro " or " puro," trunk
" torungu."

When a language has reached a stereotyped stage and the people
speaking it continue to advance in thought, there is nothing left for
them to do except to discard it for another. This happened with the
Hebrew. The library of the British Museum is said to contain ten
thousand modern books in this language, among them most of Shakes-
peare's plays and even Goethe's Faust. It is hard to see how these
versions can be more than a mere adumbration of the originals. It is
simply impossible to express the subtle thoughts of these works in the
rigid ancient tongue. The Jews themselves recognized this. When
they undertook to discuss philosophical and metaphysical themes they
had recourse to the Greek even when they wrote for their own country-
men. This language of unlimited resources and perfect adaptability to
the expression of the minutest shades of thought had been so fully
developed and had a vocabulary ready-made for abstract discussion that
all who aspired to wide culture betook themselves to it. The New
Testament furnishes evidence within the reach of every one. The
Emperor Marcus Aurelius, although a Eoman of the Romans, felt that

vol. Lxxni — 28.

434 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Greek was better adapted to give utterance to the inmost thought of his
soul than his native Latin. It is doubtful whether an adequate Eng-
lish translation of his " Meditations " exists as yet. The late Carl
Schurz, who was " master " of two languages in a widely different
sense from that usually given to this much-abused word, was wont to
say that for certain subjects he preferred the English and for others
the German. In his mind each possessed excellencies which the other
lacked.

Until recently almost all students of human speech accepted the
theory that abstract ideas or concepts are its ultimate elements. It
was held that the mind itself supplies an inherent basis of knowledge in
all our cognitions. A name is a mere empty sign, a meaningless
symbol, unless there be a preceding mental image of the object which it
represents, or an abstract conception in the mind of which it is the
sign. The mental image must precede the name, the abstract concep-
tion must be anterior to the sign, if it is to be understood. Ideas must
precede the visible or audible or tactile signs. A child knows a great
many things before it can speak the name. This being the case, the
moon is the " measurer," the sun the " light-giver," from roots meaning
to measure and to shine. Fifty years ago, Professor Max Miiller worked
out this theory with much detail and popularized it with a profusion
of poetic imagery. At the present day, however, it is no longer taken
seriously by the most competent judges. Most persons conversant
with the facts admit that in nearly all languages there are roots that
seem to express purely abstract ideas; but whether these are the oldest
elements is another question. Dogs and other brutes know the names
of objects as well as their uses although they never learn to speak the
former. A careful study of the radical elements of many languages
has led some philologists to maintain that the earliest words were a
sort of cross between a name in action and an appended demonstrative.
To walk or to eat would thus mean " walker-that-one," or " walker-he " ;
" eater-this-one," or " eater-he." In some of the languages spoken by
tribes at the foot of the economic ladder words are used in a sense
utterly foreign to our modes of thought. In the Innuit, for example,
" he is my son " really means he so?is me; " thou art my son " is I son
thee; " he sons me " is equivalent to I am his son. We find a trace of
this mode of thought in English owing to the lack of characteristic
suffixes, as when Shakespeare says : " Cowards father cowards." Fami-
liar examples of this dual nature of words are boycott, out-Herod,
water, table, " move on," " get a move on you " ; and many more.

The endeavor to give utterance to internal speech, as we may call it,
has called into existence an astonishing number of word-forms to ex-
press number, person, gender and case. These various relations are
indicated by prefixes, suffixes and infixes, or by separate words. In
English the plural is, for the most part, formed by the addition of

THE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH 435

an s to the singular. This method is so simple that it could not be
made more so. The exceptions are such plurals as oxen, mice, men,
and a few others. On the other hand, the Hausa, a dialect of the
Maude spoken in central Africa, employs at least seven different ways
of forming the plural regularly either by the addition of another
syllable or by reduplicating the final syllable with a euphonic change.
The Latin has five forms for the plural. In the language of the
Bullum and Temme the plural is made by means of various prefixes,
Ml " a house " becoming tikil, pokan, " a man " becoming apokan, and
so on. On the other hand, in the Japanese the plural, in a majority of
substantives, does not differ from the singular. Sometimes, however, it
is formed by repetition of the singular, or by the addition of another
word; but the latter process usually means something more than a
mere plural. In the French a large number of plurals do not differ
from the singular except to the eye. In the Italian the modification of
the terminal syllable often adds a qualification to the root : it may indi-
cate mere bigness, or bigness and ugliness, or bigness and fatness, or
bigness and vigor. Conversely, it possesses likewise several modifying
syllables to indicate the opposite qualities, as little and neat, little and
lovely, or little and unimportant, or little and contemptible. The
Finnish is provided with fifteen cases with which to express the various
relations in which a noun may be used. Doubling this number for
the plural, a Finnish substantive may appear in thirty different forms.
Comparing this method with such languages as the French and the
Spanish, in which case-relations are expressed by means of proposi-
tions, it looks like the extreme of complexity, or like an effort on the
part of the Finnish people to resort to an intricate method for doing
that which might be done just as well by a much simpler process.
Again, if we compare an English verb with the same part of speech
in Sanscrit or Greek we find a similar remarkable diversity. A Greek
verb with its participles may take more than five hundred different
forms to express person, number, tense and case. It must be evident
that with such an astonishing variety of resources at command it can
express shades of meaning in a single word quite impossible with a
Germanic verb. The Semitic languages are, for the most part, very
simple in the structure of the verb, having, like the English, only two
tense-forms. On the other hand, they complicate matters by giving to
the second person, both singular and plural, a form to agree with the
sex of the person addressed. Although they lack a passive voice they
indicate the passive state by the use of prefixes and vowels placed before
or within the radical consonants. The inadequacy of even the most
highly developed language to express abstract ideas with accuracy is
strikingly shown by a study of the writings of a thinker like Plato.
He had virtually no predecessors in the realm of thought in which his
mind often moved. He had, therefore, to coin new words, out of pre-

436 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

existing materials, or to give to current words a new meaning. He
usually chose the latter, thus laying himself liable to be misunderstood
at every turn. His followers were, therefore, in the position of the
shorter animals that try to feed on branches as far from the ground as
the giraffe does. The result is that although his works have been
studied and commented upon for more than twenty centuries, we are
still told by some of his enthusiastic devotees, that the master is not
fully understood. There is probably a good deal of truth in the asser-
tion, for the reason that our psychic experiences are not only conditioned
by our environment, but also by our mental structure. As the former
can not be reproduced and as minds of like caliber are a prodigy we
probably do not fully comprehend what the ancient thinker meant in
not a few passages. The truth of this statement may be made evident
by a simple illustration. We hear a certain individual say : " I am
happy." Upon inquiry we find that his state of mind is the result of
his having plenty of food and drink of a kind exactly suited to his
tastes and that he cares for nothing else. Another person uses the same
expression whose highest ambition is to possess the means to shine in
society, but who is relatively indifferent to food and drink. A third
person is a North American Indian, who has after long watching and
waiting got into his power a mortal enemy whom he can now torture
to his heart's content. With these let us now compare the ecstatic
feelings of a Copernicus when after long years of study and reflection
he had at last become fully convinced of the truth of the heliocentric
system. Although all four have employed exactly the same sentence
their meaning was wide, very wide apart. But even in less profound
matters we can not fully understand a language unless we are thor-
oughly familiar with the conditions where it has been developed. In
some of its aspects German is German the world over. But what dif-
ferent feelings come into our minds when we take up Schiller's " Tell "
in north Germany, or in a foreign land, or among the scenes where
the drama is laid ! The Platt-Deutsch of the northern plains seems
strangely out of place in the mountain region of the south. The con-
verse is equally true. And what a feeble imitation of the real thing
is the colloquial German of the United States or the French of Canada !
The ancients were aware of this. Herodotus tells us that when the
messenger of Cambyses came to Psammeticus, the dethroned king of
Egypt, to ask him why he did not shed a tear nor utter a cry when he
saw his daughter brought to shame and his son on his way to death,
but gave those marks of honor to a beggar, replied : " 0 son of Cyrus,
my own misfortunes were too great for tears," and by inference, too
great for words. Similarly Malcolm says " Give sorrow words : the
grief that doth not speak, Whispers to the o'erfraught heart and bids
it break." And again : " Grief that is expressed in words Is slight
indeed." Byron also speaks of the " suffocating sense of woe." When

THE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH 437

we read an author like Voltaire we feel that in his hundred volumes
he said about all he had to say. He puts his thoughts before us
lucidly and vigorously, but not profoundly. In the case of Goethe, on
the other hand, who could think both scientifically and poetically, we
often realize that in spite of the enormous extent of his works his
language is not infrequently an indication of his thoughts rather than
the expression of the thoughts themselves. The existence of Dante
Societies, and Shakespeare Societies, and Goethe Societies has its justi-
fication in the conviction that the thoughts of these master minds can
be fully understood only by the cooperation of many of inferior caliber.
By thus combining and comparing the individual and partial views of
a number of separate intellects, they may gain at least an approximately
adequate grasp of the psyche of these prodigies.

Perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon exhibited by all the lan-
guages of the world is a process we can hardly call by any other name
than deterioration. Take, for example, the Greek. Many of its oldest
words are both longer and more sonorous than the later ones. But
often even the earliest form shows evidence of weakening, abrasion
and contraction. At least one consonant was lost in the period lying
between the prehistoric and the historic. In many words two syllables
are drawn together into one, or a shorter takes the place of a longer
word. Sometimes the longer form existed for a time alongside the
shorter, eventually to displace it entirely. Often the attenuated vowel e
takes the place of the more sonorous a. It would almost seem as if
when a word of two or more syllables having a traditional signification
had for a time been in use it dawned upon the primitive mind that
it could be shortened without losing its meaning. In Greek and Latin
this process is not carried very far, but in French all the words derived
from the latter language consist only of that portion that precedes and
includes the accented syllable. We know that when an uneducated
person tries to reproduce the pronunciation of a long foreign word or
one that is foreign to him, he usually gets only a part of it and that
part often incorrectly : education becomes " edication," sitting " sit'n,"
somewhat " sumet," the other " t'other," and so on with innumerable
examples. This is the every-day process. But where and when shall
we place the era of upbuilding? When were the fuller forms in use?
The procedure that falls within our ken furnishes us with no answer
to the question, not so much as an approximation thereto. Even those
languages of which the study began only a generation or two ago
exhibit the same phenomenon. The Bantu, the most widely dissemi-
nated speech of South Africa, presents many instances where two or
more syllables are contracted into one, and where former syllables have
left but a single letter as evidence of their one-time existence. As
soon as a language is reduced to writing, or becomes a matter of study,
and the rising generation is taught to pattern after its predecessors, the

438 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

process of deterioration virtually comes to an end, unless only a small
portion of those who use it fall under the influence of culture. In such
a case the breach between the educated and the uneducated becomes
wider and wider. This gradual divergence can be traced both in the
Greek and in the Latin. A few persons continued to write the classic
tongues as nearly as they could; but they eventually became unintel-
ligible to the great mass of the people. Although Dante had a ready
use of the Latin and wrote much in that language, he nevertheless com-
posed a treatise to prove the superiority of the mother-tongue; and he
felt that in this alone could he give utterance to the inmost thoughts
of his soul.

It is remarkable that the course of what we are wont to call civil-
ization is in a great measure parallel with that of language. During
the Mycenaean age in Greece the arts flourished to a degree that seemed
almost godlike to Homer's contemporaries. The historic era in Egypt
and Mesopotamia, the beginning of which is placed about three thou-
sand years B.C., is one of decline. The same is true of Mexico and
Central America. Here not only the age of growth, but also that of
decay, has been swept into the bottomless pit of oblivion. We see much
and know nothing.

That thought embraces more than speech may often be inferred
from a study of public speakers. When persons who are in the habit
of thinking rather than talking endeavor to express themselves in
public they are frequently at a loss. They hesitate, repeat, often use
the wrong word, and are ill at ease for the reason that the vocabulary
which they have at immediate command does not offer the exact
terms they need. This is particularly true of mathematicians, who are
proverbially poor speakers. Take another example similar in kind.
I am translating from a foreign tongue into my own. I come across
a word for which an equivalent does not at once occur to me. My
memory brings into consciousness several synonyms, but all are re-
jected by my judgment as inadequate. My memory may be compared
to a plane surface on which my judgment moves about like a flash-light
until it discovers what I am looking for. Or I may come across a
foreign word that has no English equivalent. I must therefore transfer
it bodily or use an approximation. In such cases the dictionary rarely
affords any aid. It furnishes me, perhaps, with a number of more or
less equivalents, but it does not help me to select the particular word I
am in search of. Again, assuming that Leibniz discovered the Differ-
ential Calculus, did he do so with the German, the French or the
Latin language? Although we are not justified in assuming that the
discovery could have been made by a dumb person, it lies within a
sphere of thought where words count for little. There is abundant
evidence to prove that many of the subanimals carry on elementary
trains of reasoning which lead them to conform their actions to new

THE INADEQUACY OF SPEECH 439

conditions. They depart from their usual routine. In the child,
thought and speech are developed, pari passu, but after a while the
latter is no longer indispensable. They need a support just as they
do in learning to walk. That thought and reason are not identical may
thus be judged in its lowest forms by the conduct of certain animals
and from the lowest races such as the Euegians and Bushmen, since the
reasoning powers of the latter always remain at the puerile stage, but
also from those persons who have risen into an intellectual region
where words are inadequate to express their ideas.

The generally accepted explanation of this tendency to abbreviate
words spoken of before is that it is due to laziness, or a well-nigh
irresistible impulse to follow the law of least effort. It is, however,
more probably owing to the incapacity of adults to apprehend sounds
correctly. Even with the utmost care on the part of the teacher and
the learner, persons who have reached the age of maturity seldom suc-
ceed in acquiring the correct pronunciation of a foreign language. One
may continue to add a reading knowledge of languages to one's reper-
toire as long as his mental faculties are unimpaired, but the capacity to
imitate a correct pronunciation seldom continues beyond the age of
about twenty. What is done by the child without thought and without
effort is impossible to the " grown-ups."2

That the psychic life of man can not be fully expressed by lan-
guage is further evinced by the predisposition manifested everywhere
and at all times by mankind to come to its aid with the hands. Hence
we have the plastic and pictorial arts together with music. The
artistic instinct is nowhere wholly lacking; prehistoric man made rude
carvings. A mere daub or a coarse wood-cut gives the beholder a
clearer conception of an object than pages of description. The same
may be said of a piece of statuary. Words set to music and rhythm in
a simple air are more impressive than a mere recitation. When then it
is supported by a musical instrument, or better still by an orchestra,
the effect is greatly heightened. Even without words emotion can be
forcibly expressed by instruments alone or by gestures alone. The
orator Cicero is reputed to have said that the actor Eoscius could
portray the feelings more accurately in pantomime than he was himself
able to describe them with words. The instinct or impulse that leads
men to endeavor to give utterance to their feeling by rhythm and tones,
often very unmusical to a cultivated taste, is almost as old as the

2 A curious and amusing instance once occurred in my own experience. I
was talking with an Englishman who dealt with the h-sound after the some-
what usual manner of his countrymen. Upon my alluding to his weakness in
a jocular way, he became very angry, declaring that I had taken up a false
charge. Yet in the very words of his defense he committed the peccadilloes
against which he was defending his countrymen. On the other hand, I have
known several Englishmen who admitted the bad habit and strove assiduously
to avoid it.

440 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

race. Before the dawn of history there seems to have been in vogue the
war-song, the dance-tune, the epic recitative, the religious chant, all
accompanied by appropriate gesture and frequently by such instru-
ments as the age could produce. The Orphic legends bear witness
to the real or imagined power of the musical art. When in its infancy,
it was usually accompanied by gesture and pantomime. We all can
bear witness to the tendency of emotional individuals to fall instinct-
ively into gesticulaton in order to emphasize their words. Popular
audiences are so much more influenced by their feelings than by their
judgment that they are often " carried away " by the commonplaces of
a skillful elocutionist, but remain unmoved by the most profound
wisdom of the statuesque orator. How contagious emotionalism is
likely to be is strikingly shown by the anecdote Franklin tells about the
effect of Whitefield's oratory upon his purse.

How jejune must be the psychic life of those peoples that are with-
out any of these arts becomes evident after a moment's reflection.
Even if their languages were far better adapted to the expression of
thought than most of them are, their soul life would nevertheless be
lacking in some of the most effective modes of utterance. It was
doubtless this thought that Tennyson had in mind when he wrote :

Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.

We need to remember, however, that the word better is used in this
connection in the European sense. Yet John Stuart Mill is probably
right when he says : " Few human creatures would consent to be
changed into any of the lower animals, for a promise of the fullest
allowance of beastly pleasures; no intelligent human being would con-
sent to be a fool, no instructed person would be an ignoramus, no
person of feeling and conscience would be selfish and base, even though
they should be persuaded that the fool, the dunce or the rascal is
better satisfied with his lot than they with theirs." He puts the case
still more effectively in the words : " It is better to be a human being
dissatisfied than a pig satisfied ; better to be a Socrates dissatisfied than
a fool satisfied. And if the fool or the pig is of a different opinion, it is
because they only know their own side of the question. The other
party to the comparison knows both." It is evident, then, that speech,
when most carefully and conscientiously used, is but a feeble reflection
of man's inner self. When, on the other hand, we consider man's
liability to error, his passive indifference to truth and his proneness to
deliberate falsehood, we must admit that language and fact do not
often correspond with each other. While it is not true, according to
the well-known saying of Talleyrand, that speech was given to man
to enable him to conceal his thoughts, that is so employed in number-
less instances who shall gainsay?

ZOOLOGY 41

ZOOLOGY1

By Professor HENRY B CRAMPTON

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

IN the present series of addresses upon the nature and scope of some
of the divisions of knowledge, zoology connects the natural sciences
with those subjects that deal with human progress in physical, social,
political and economic respects. Like the human and other sciences,
zoology has arisen from that vague uncoordinated and unresolved mass
of knowledge, the natural philosophy of not very remote times, which
undertook to comprehend all there was of nature and thought. And
again like the other sciences it is as such a branch of relatively late
growth. In earlier times few men were sufficiently withdrawn from
the affairs of the market-place and commerce and conquest, from pol-
itics and government and theological propaganda, to observe the phe-
nomena of nature closely, to reflect upon their observations, and to-
summarize their deductions in the formularies of natural law. Not
until human social structure neared the relatively settled condition
of modern times did it become possible for men to differentiate as
students of nature solely, rendering their service to the common weal
as investigators of the less practical and more remote departments of
knowledge. Now the sciences have become so great, so complex and
varied, that it is impossible for a single mind to comprehend all that
is included in one of them. So widely the impelling energy of
research has driven the soldiers of investigation that only when, as in
the present series of addresses, they return to the council-fires of an
intellectual bivouac can they come to realize how far-flung indeed are
the battle-lines of the armies of science — how rich and diversified is
the territory from which knowledge has driven ignorance and super-
stition. And they must realize also how impossible it is for them to
conduct their operations at all times in entire independence. The
results of physics and chemistry are indispensable weapons for the
biologist; geology takes the field with paleontology for the study of
fossil forms; while on the other hand the advance posts of zoology
provide the students of many a human science with a secure base of
operations.

I need not speak of the inter-relations of the several biological
sciences, for these have been sufficiently explained in the earlier dis-

*A lecture delivered at Columbia University in the series on Science,
Philosophy and Art December 11, 1907. Copyright, 1908, by the Columbia
University Press.

442 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

courses. I shall pass directly to a description of the elements of the
present science of zoology and of its history, so far as this is necessary
for a clear understanding of the various divisions of the subject and
of their connections ; and finally I shall endeavor to show how through
its human materials zoology articulates directly with other fields of
knowledge.

Zoology is the science that deals with the structure, development
and inter-relationships of animals, with the workings of their parts,
their activities and their relations to their environment, and with the
factors that determine their forms. We may recognize two great divis-
ions of the subject, which are concerned respectively with static and
with dynamic principles, though the materials of both divisions are the
same — namely, all animals throughout the entire range from the high-
est to the lowest. It is of course clear that morphology — the science
of structure — can not be absolutely separated from physiology — the
science of function in its widest sense — for we do not know of organic
structures that play absolutely no part in an animal's economy, even
though this may be a relatively passive one; while on the other hand
we do not know — in science at any rate — of a function that is devoid
of a material basis. The division is made solely for the sake of analysis,
and it depends entirely upon the point of view. Morphology treats
adult animals, their different developmental stages, and, more natur-
ally, the remains of extinct animals as though they were arrested in
their living, but the dynamic aspects of organic life are so prominent
and insistent that it is really impossible to ignore them even temporarily.

Besides dealing with the same materials, the many complicated
problems of zoology are still further connected in that the central
object of study for both the structural and physiological divisions is
evolution. As we look back over the history of the subject from our
modern vantage-ground, we can see how zoology began with ancient
and medieval natural history, how from this parent stock arose the
additional separate branches of anatomy, embryology, paleontology and
distribution, how human physiology became comparative physiology
which developed later into the broad and deep enquiry into all the
activities of animals, their vital relations to one another, and their
reactions to and upon the environment; and we can see how all these
several branches were vitalized by the great principle of evolution.
This whole history shows a steady progress through one phase after
another toward the modern study of evolution, though the naturalists
of the eighteenth and even of much of the nineteenth century were
unconscious, in whole or in part, of the way their observations and
views were contributing to the establishment of the doctrine of descent
and to the partial description that can now be offered of the natural
factors of evolution. As we shall see, the structural analysis of animals

ZOOLOGY 443

demonstrates the evolution of species as a universal process, while the
broad study of the dynamic relations of animals is concerned with the
causes of this process, as what we may venture to call the physiology
of evolution. In brief, then, the great questions of zoology are the
what and the how of evolution.

In view of the earlier lectures, it is unnecessary to speak at length
of classification or taxonomy — the first division of static or structural
zoology. Aristotle, who gathered and studied some five hundred of
the more common animals of the earth and shore and sea, and the
medievalists, Wotton and Eay, Gesner and Aldrovandi, were animated
primarily by the instincts of the collector of interesting information.
Linnaeus, the great figure of the eighteenth century, rendered an
immortal service to zoology (and botany, too) by introducing the
present ordered system of naming and classifying organisms. But
classification was to Linnaeus an end in itself, he could not see that
it was but a means to the larger end of understanding and expressing
evolutionary relationships — that resemblance meant consanguinity. It
remained for Erasmus Darwin, the elder St. Hiliare, Lamarck and
others to appreciate this inner meaning which so vivifies the otherwise
dead details of taxonomy.

The many connected details of animal structure and development
and function constitute the threads, as it were, which are interwoven
by comparative treatment to form the warp and woof of the fabric of
zoology. Classification draws upon this fabric the pattern of genealog-
ical connections, emphasizing those threads that run furthest, the
so-called distinctive or diagnostic characters. And though the pattern
must be altered here and there as knowledge increases, the zoologist
feels that it has a real significance as a representation of evolutionary
descent.

As more and more of the lower animals were brought by the micro-
scope from the obscurity of their zoological underworld, as exploration
revealed more of the creatures of previously unknown lands, as inves-
tigation became more detailed and intensive, comparative anatomy
arose as an independent branch of zoology with distinct purposes of
its own; and it gained its specific form and character from the studies
of the great zoologists of the early nineteenth century — Lamarck,
Cuvier, Geoffroy St. Hiliare, Goethe, Owen and Oken. These natur-
alists dissected and compared the various organic systems of animals,
following them as widely as possible from group to group of the
numerous vertebrate and invertebrate forms, and they and their fol-
lowers have placed the doctrine of evolution upon the sure and broad
foundation of comparative anatomy. The main principle of this
department of zoology is that the varied forms of animals exhibit
deep-seated likenesses that place them in groups related to one another

444 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

not as the rungs of a ladder as Lamarck supposed, but rather as the
branches of a tree or a bush; and such branches again like those of a
tree bear smaller branches, and these reach to lesser or greater heights
from the base level of primitive organization. Thus, anatomy holds
that community of plan is an indication of genetic affinities, while
modifications of a common plan exhibit the results of adaptation to
different ends through evolution. The framework of the human arm
is constructed out of the same elements with the same arrangement that
we find in the leg of a cat, the flipper of a seal, the paddle of a whale,
and even the wing of a bat, different though these structures are in
function — and in these resemblances comparative anatomy discerns
evidence of a remote common ancestry of men and whales and bats.

Extended through the study of tissues, or histology, to the unitary
elements of organic structure — the cells — comparative analysis has
brought the whole realm of organic nature under the sway of a great
principle — the cell-doctrine of the botanist Schleiden and the zoologist
Schwann. This important principle, propounded in 1838 and 1839,
produced an immediate effect in unifying organic creatures, though
many years passed before it was formulated in the terms employed
to-day. In brief, it is this : All the larger organisms are composed of
organs which in turn are constructed of various tissues, like muscle
and nerve and connective elements; the tissues finally can be resolved
into units of structure, the cells, which agree in possessing a central
body or nucleus, and in their protoplasmic substance. The elementary
nature of cells is still further demonstrated by the simplest organisms
we know, which consist of one cell, nothing more and nothing less;
while finally the starting point in the development of higher animals
is always a single cell — the egg. Truly these are remarkable facts,
when we consider the wide range of animal and plant forms.

Vast as the present knowledge is, the tasks of comparative anatomy
are not entirely completed. Though voyages of exploration like those
of the Beagle with Darwin, the Rattlesnake with Huxley, and above
all of the famous Challenger have gone to all parts of the globe, though
countless investigators have devoted their lives to the study of special
groups like birds and mammals and insects and molluscs, every year
brings to light new forms that must be analyzed and placed; while
new discoveries in other departments often make it necessary to reex-
amine known series in the light of fuller knowledge.

While many naturalists prior to the nineteenth century were inter-
ested in the way an animal egg produced an adult organism, it was not
until the doctrine of descent energized zoology that comparative embry-
ology attained the independent status that it holds to this day. Harvey
in 1650 had perceived that, in his own words, " all animals are in
some sort produced from eggs." Bonnet and Haller, of the early

ZOOLOGY 445

eighteenth century, contended that the germ was a minute replica of
the adult which formed it, a multum in parvo which simply unfolded
and enlarged to produce another adult organism; Wolff, however,
showed that this view lacked a basis in fact, and that as we now
universally believe, embryonic history is a true development from the
simple and unorganized to the progressively more and more specialized
later conditions — that it is, in a word, an epigenesis. The great name
of the infancy of embryology is that of Von Baer (1792-1876). This
acute observer and thinker was struck by the similarity of early stages
in the development of quite different adult animals. Birds and rep-
tiles and even mammals pass through stages when they possess gill-slits
like those of fishes, related to heart and blood-vessels like the similar
structures in lower vertebrates; butterflies and flies and beetles are
somewhat alike in their larval stages, when as caterpillars and maggots
and grubs they not only resemble one another remarkably but they are
also very like worms. Under the influence of the evolution doctrine,
then becoming more generally accepted, Von Baer and a host of fol-
lowers extended the science of comparative embryology until Haeckel
in 1866 ventured to state the " Law of Recapitulation," or the " Bio-
genetic Law," in the following rigid terms : Ontogeny recapitulates
phylogeny. (The development of an individual reviews the past his-
tory of its species.) Led by their enthusiasm many of the later nine-
teenth century zoologists followed too implicitly the lines of the
embryonic record, though Haeckel himself, the most radical advocate
of the law, pointed out that there are many serious omissions in the
narrative, that false passages are inserted as the result of purely larval
and embryonic needs and adaptations, while many alterations in the
way of anachronisms have been made. Of late years there has been a
strong reaction from the complete acceptance of the principle as a
reliable mode of interpreting embryonic histories. But I believe
zoologists generally feel that used with due caution the law has a high
value for the student of evolution, and they realize that embryology
is perhaps more significant in other respects than in showing exactly
how in past times any given species has evolved. The present tasks in
this department, now so thoroughly investigated, are to distinguish
between the false and the true portions of the record, between the new
and the old, and to ascertain the physiology of development, in order
to gain a more complete knowledge of racial history and of the dynamics
of organic nature.

The study of the fossil remains of animal organisms, or paleon-
tology, is the fourth division of structural zoology, which as an inde-
pendent branch dates back to the time of Cuvier, scarcely a hundred
years ago. Vestiges of creation were indeed known long before that
time, but they were variously regarded as freaks of geological forma-

446 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tion, lusus naturae, as remains of creatures stranded by tidal waves or
cataclysms like the traditional flood, or again as the remains of animals
formed by a process of spontaneous generation in the depths of the
earth that had failed to reach the surface. It was Leonardo da Vinci
of the fifteenth century who, anticipating the naturalists of later times,
believed these vestiges are what common-sense says they are — simply
relics of creatures that lived when the earth was younger. Cuvier was
in a true sense the founder of paleontology ; though a special creationist,
he recognized that beneath their differences there were fundamental
likenesses between recent and extinct animals. He assumed that cata-
clysms had closed the several geologic epochs whereupon new series
of animals and plants were created upon the same general working-plans
employed in earlier ages; thus he combined the idea of change in
geologic time with a belief in supernatural creation. When, however,
Lyell led geologists and others to abandon the cataclysmic hypothesis
in favor of the doctrine of uniformitarianism, when the series of known
fossil forms increased and the intrinsic value of the paleontological
evidence became clearer, the doctrine of evolution finally claimed this
field also as its own.

The nature of the case is such that the fossil record must remain
incomplete, perhaps forever. For not all the animals of former times
possessed hard parts capable of resisting the disintegrating forces of
organic and inorganic nature, the rocky tombs of those animals that
were embedded in the sands and silts have been crushed and rent
asunder by the very geological agencies that at first constructed them.
More than half of the earth's surface is now under water, while by no
means all of the dry land is accessible. Only a few scratches have been
made here and there upon the earth's hard crust, so it is little wonder
that the testimony of the rocks is halting and imperfect. But what
there is, a rapidly growing body of cold, hard facts, is in itself conclu-
sive evidence of the reality of evolution. Eesearches like those of Von
Zittel, Cope, Hyatt, Marsh, Osborn and Scott, demonstrate that, when
they appear at all, the great groups or phyla of animals and their sub-
divisions succeed one another in that chronological order which com-
parative anatomy and embryology have independently shown is the
order of their evolution. Then, too, there are those fossil types that
link together groups now so widely separated, like Archeopteryx, which
is at once a feathered reptile and a bird with reptilian tail and skull
and limbs. And there are the marvelously perfect series of fossils like
those which demonstrate the evolution of modern horses and elephants ;
and, finally, as the special creationist Louis Agassiz himself showed,
some fossil series parallel very closely the embryonic record in modern
types. No field opens more invitingly than that of the paleontologist.
His tasks are to search the rocks everywhere for new fossil types to

ZOOLOGY 447

fill in the gaps of the lines of descent that at best can only be inter-
rupted lines, and to show how these lines lead to modern forms or to
divergent kinds that have ceased to be. And he will compare his results
with those of students in other fields, who will assist him to formulate
the working-plans for his own labors.

Zoo-geography is the last branch of structural zoology to attain an
independent status. Many observers from Buffon onward had been
struck by the fact that species of animals are not uniformly distributed
over the earth, that they differ more widely as the observer passes to
more and more remote localities, with more different climatic and other
environmental conditions. But the meaning of these peculiarities was
obscure until the doctrine of descent cleared their vision. Wagner,
Louis Agassiz and Dana, Sclater, Murray and Wallace were the leaders
of those who have brought together the immense mass of modern
knowledge of animal distribution. From this many well-established
principles relating to descent have been derived, though these have a
deeper interest in connection with the dynamic problem as to whether
differences in environment can actually cause species to transform, as
Lamarck supposed. As a statement of the results in this apparently
simple, but really quite complicated field would be misleading, I fear,
from its brevity and general form, I will venture to present just one
conclusion. Geographical isolation corresponds in a general way with
the divergence of species in their evolution from common ancestors;
thus widely separated areas have faunas that differ more widely in
zoological respects than do those of neighboring or connected countries.
For example, the Australian region has been cut off for a relatively long
period from neighboring continents, and in correspondence with this
isolation it contains the only egg-laying mammals known, as well as
all of the pouched mammals like the kangaroo, with a few exceptions
like our American opossum. Furthermore, groups of isolated oceanic
islands, like the Galapagos and Azores and the clusters of Polynesia,
are inhabited by lizards and birds and insects which resemble most
closely the species of the nearest bodies of land. Such resemblances are
most reasonably interpreted as indicating that the original progenitors
of the island colonies were stragglers from the nearest mainland,
whose descendants have undergone divergent evolution during succeed-
ing generations.

Having, then, this vast store of fact and principle amassed through
centuries by countless students, the zoologist is entitled to speak posi-
tively when he finds a law like the doctrine of evolution that reviews
and summarizes the whole range of animal structure. The well-
established facts of zoology are the reasons why he asserts with a
decision often mistaken for dogmatism that evolution is a real process.
The further question, why is nature so constituted that evolution is

448 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

true, is an enquiry that does not fall within the limits of zoological
science.

We now come to the second great division of zoology, which as a
whole is concerned with broad and deep enquiry into the workings of
nature; it is natural history in the best sense. Prior to the time of
Darwin attempts to solve the kinetic problems of the organic world
were hampered by anthropomorphism and narrowness of view, as well
as by paucity of facts. But since then, owing to the immense influence
of the works of that great naturalist, so much attention has been given
to the fundamental problems of life that it is now possible to correlate
many principles which describe not only the fact of evolution but many
of the factors as well. And in this modern development wide observa-
tion has led so directly to extensive experiment that we may justly
characterize the present period as an age of experimental zoology.
Just as all the apparently disconnected studies of structural zoology
deal with one matter — evolution — so in the sphere of experimental
zoology all the radii converge upon the study of the factors and method
of species transformation.

"We can only mention some of the modern departments which have
yielded brilliant results, such as cytology, experimental embryology,
experimental fertilization and regeneration. But we may point out
that the general problems in these various fields deal like the problem
of evolution itself with an analysis of the internal and external influ-
ences that determine the final adult conditions of species. For example,
the adult salamander possesses a specific structure, in a state of balance
or adaptation, that is the final result of an evolution process up to
the present time ; this same specific condition is the goal of the changes
through which the salamander's egg and embryo pass in development;
it is the goal also that may be reached by even a portion of a divided
salamander's egg; while finally it is the goal of the regenerative proc-
esses that enable a salamander from which a leg has been cut off to
reproduce the missing part. Everything centers then about the ques-
tion as to the origin of adult specific forms, which exhibit adaptation.

Eealizing this, we may pass on immediately to consider how through
the study of adaptation, Darwin was led to formulate his potent
theories, which have been the basis for recent progress. As the other
speakers upon biological sciences have already stated, the most striking
feature of animals and plants is their adjustment to their vital con-
ditions. An organism that seems so sufficient unto itself, so capable
and independent, is nevertheless inextricably interlocked with its sur-
roundings, for its very substance is composed of materials which with
their endowments of energy have been wrested from the environment.
An animal that is pressed upon by the substances of the outer world,
that is played upon by various energies, and is attacked on all sides by

ZOOLOGY 449

innumerable foes, finds itself involved in a warfare that is tragically
one-sided ; and it must prevail over all its many foes or it must acknowl-
edge defeat and pay the penalty for unconditional surrender, which is
death — so stern and unyielding is that vast totality we individualize
as the environment. The generalized biological formula, then, for
the turmoil of nature is adaptation = life.

Here, then, is the heart of the mystery. How has this universal
condition of adaptation been brought about? What have animals
within them that might determine their greater or less efficiency?
What external influences, if any, are capable of directing the efforts
of living creatures to meet their enemies ? How are modifications per-
petuated when they have arisen? To many of these questions Darwin,
Weismann, Mendel, De Vries and others have found answers, not com-
plete or perfect, it is true, but they have relegated to the past the
former reply that supernatural causes must be invoked to account for
nature. Science is convinced that the study of nature's workings at
the present time reveals natural factors which are competent to account
for much of the wonderful process of evolution.

As every one knows, the works of Darwin inaugurated our recent era
in biology. In 1858, Darwin and Wallace announced the doctrine of
natural selection, and, in 1859, Darwin published the " Origin of
Species," a book that has proved a veritable Magna Charta of intel-
lectual liberties, for as no other single document before or since it
has released the thoughts of men from the trammels of unreasoned
conservatism and dogmatism. And its influence has been felt far
beyond the borders of biological science — it has extended to the very
confines of organized knowledge everywhere. But it is a mistaken
popular notion, and one of the hardest to drive from the mind of the
layman in science, that Darwin founded the doctrine of evolution by
the book mentioned and those that followed. The fact of evolutionary
descent had been established long before, while even some of the special
points of Darwin's theories as to method had been anticipated. Had
Darwin never lived, I believe that evolution would still be accepted
and taught at the present day. But Darwin rendered two immortal
services to science. During the twenty years that elapsed between the
first conception of his theories and the date of their publication, he
marshalled in orderly array all the biological data obtainable which
proved the transformation of species, including the previously unrec-
ognized body of evidence afforded by the domesticated animals. In
the second place, in his doctrine of natural selection he presented for
the first time a partial consistent program of nature's method of
accomplishing evolution. Darwin did not believe that this explanation
was final or even complete, whatever his opponents of the time or
critics of the present might contend.

VOL. LXSUI. — 29.

450 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

What, now, is the doctrine of natural selection, as Darwin pro-
pounded it? All animals vary; every individual differs from others
of its kind, even from its closest kin and from its parents in some or
many particulars and to different degrees. Whatever the causes, the
fact of variation stands unquestioned. Some variations are of course
due to direct environmental influence, and to these Buffon attributed
an excessive importance; other deviations from the parental or average
specific type are no doubt due to indirect effects of the environment, as
Lamarck contended. But there are countless other variations that
can not be so explained, some of them indeed appearing before an indi-
vidual is subjected to the action of the environment, and these are the
congenital variations due to some constitutional even if unknown
causes. These seemed to Darwin to be the most important in evolution.

The second element of the doctrine is that over-production, or
rather over-reproduction, is a universal characteristic of living things.
The normal rate of multiplication is such that any given form of
animal or plant would cumber the earth or fill the sea in a relatively
brief period of time. We now know that a bacillus less than %ooo of
an inch in length multiplies under normal conditions at a rate that
would cause the offspring of a single individual to fill the ocean to
the depth of a mile in five days. " Slow-breeding man," wrote Darwin,
" has doubled in the past twenty-five years." But excessive multipli-
cation is checked by the third part of the whole process, namely, the
struggle for existence, that fierce unequal warfare waged by every
individual with its inorganic surroundings, with other species of living
things, and with others of its own kind. Indeed where members of
the same species compete, the struggle often surpasses in ferocity the
warfare with other organisms. Communal organisms only are in part
exceptions, for in these the battle involves the clash of community with
community more than it does the interests of the individuals of a
single colony. To what, now, do these elemental processes lead, asks
Darwin. Though all seek to maintain themselves, all can not possibly
live when only a few can find sustenance or can escape their enemies.
Naturally those which possess any advantage whatsoever, that vary ever
so slightly in the direction of better adjustment would survive where
their brethren perish. And this is nature's selective process, with its
positive and negative aspects — the survival of the fittest and the elimi-
nation of the unfit. Now we can see why adaptation is a universal
characteristic of species — there are no unadapted. If such there were,
they have fallen long ago, and the world knows them no more. True
it is that perfection is not attained by any creature, but it must estab-
lish a modus vivendi or it perishes. Thus, Darwin held, nature per-
fects species by dealing directly with favoring derivations that are
mainly congenital, and so through these it selects the herditary factors
that determine favorable variations.

ZOOLOGY 45i

In one fundamental respect the doctrine is incomplete, as it fails
to explain the causes for the variations with which selection deals. It
accounts for the perpetuation of favoring variations, but it does not
account for their inception. Because of this defect, investigators
reacted from the academic discussion of Darwin's original doctrine,
and returned to deeper and wider study of heredity and variation with
brilliant success. Some neo-Darwinians have endeavored to make the
selective process an originative influence — notably Koux, and Weismann
in his theory of germinal selection. Darwin himself added the sub-
sidiary process of sexual selection, which regards the preference by
one sex of characteristics of the opposite sex as a conserving influence.
But while such attempts have failed, zoologists believe, to explain the
whole method of evolution, much of the process has been demonstrated
more and more clearly with further study. The laws of fluctuating
variations have now been formulated with mathematical accuracy,
through the employment of the statistical methods used earlier by
anthropologists like Quetelet. The studies of Galton and Pearson,
Boas, Weldon and Davenport have demonstrated that structural and
physiological characters of men, of other animals, and of plants as
well, vary according to the formulas of chance or error — a result they
say that follows from the combined influence of innumerable and inde-
pendent factors. Variation is a natural phenomenon of chance.
Furthermore, the reality of the selective process has also been proved
by statistical methods. Bumpus's English sparrows, Weldon's snails
and crabs, and many other cases show that the individuals which depart
widely from an average condition, or that are uncorrected in their
organization, are marked for destruction.

In brief, while natural selection has not been established as in any
sense an originative process, it has been demonstrated, I believe, as a
judicial process. For we may liken the many varied vital conditions
to jurymen, before whom every organism must present itself for judg-
ment; and a unanimous verdict of complete or at least partial approval
must be rendered, or the organism must perish.

The phenomena of biological inheritance, however, have demanded
the greater attention of Darwinian and post-Darwinian investigators.
A complete statement of the whole of evolution must show how species
maintain the same general characteristics through inheritance, how the
type is held true with passing generations, and it must also show how
new characters may enter into the heritage of any species to be trans-
mitted as organisms transform in evolution.

The earliest naturalists had accepted the fact of inheritance as self-
sufficient. The resemblance between parent and offspring did not
demand an explanation any more than variation. When Buffon, how-
ever, added the element of species transformation, he held that external

452 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

influences could bring about a directly responsive organic change,
which he assumed was inherited. Lamarck developed the well-known
view, previously advocated by Erasmus Darwin, that indirect responses
to the environment could be fixed in inheritance as so-called " acquired
characters," meaning by this phrase that such characters are acquisi-
tions during the life-time of an individual as the effects of disuse or
unusual use, or of new habits. Coming again to Darwin, we find that
he endeavored to support Lamarck's doctrine and to supplement his
doctrine of selection by adding the theory of pangenesis. According
to this every cell of every tissue and organ of the body produces minute
particles called gemmules, which partake of the characters of the cells
that produce them. The gemmules were supposed to be transported
throughout the entire body, and to congregate in the germ-cells, which
would be in a sense minute editions of the body which bears them, and
would so be capable of producing the same kind of a body. If true,
this view would lead to the acceptance of Lamarck's or even Buffon's
doctrine, for changes induced in any organ by other than congenital
factors could be impressed upon the germ-cell, and would then be trans-
ported together with the original specific characters to future genera-
tions. Darwin was indeed a good Lamarckian.

But the researches of post-Darwinians, and especially those of the
students of cellular phenomena, have demonstrated that such a view
has no real basis in fact. Many naturalists, like Naegeli and Wiesner,
were convinced that there was a specific substance concerned with
hereditary qualities as in a larger way protoplasm is the physical basis
of life. It remained for Weismann to identify this theoretical sub-
stance with a specific part of the cell, namely, the deeply-staining sub-
stance, or chromatin, contained in the nucleus of every cell. Bringing
together the accumulating observations of the numerous cytologists of
his time, and utilizing them for the development of his somewhat specu-
lative theories, Weismann published in 1882 a volume called " The
Germ-Plasm," which is an immortal foundation for the later work on
inheritance. The essential principles of the germ-plasm theory are
somewhat as follows : The chromatin of the nucleus contains the deter-
minants of hereditary qualities. In reproduction, the male sex-cell,
which is scarcely more than a minute mass of chromatin provided with
a thin coat of protoplasm and a motile organ, fuses with the egg, and
the nuclei of the two cells unite to form a double body, which contains
equal contributions of chromatin from the two parental organisms.
This gives the physical basis for paternal inheritance as well as for
maternal inheritance, and it shows why they may be of the same or
equivalent degree. When, now, the egg divides, at the first and later
cleavages, the chromatin masses or chromosomes contained in the double
nucleus are split lengthwise and the twin portions separate to go into

ZOOLOGY 453

the nuclei of the daughter cells. As the same process seems to hold
for all the later divisions of the cleavage-cells whose products are
destined to be the various tissue elements of the adult body, it follows
that all tissue-cells would contain chromatin determinants derived
equally from the male and female parents. As of course only the
germ-cells of an adult organism pass on to form later generations, and
as their content of chromatin is derived not from the sister-organs of
the body but from the original fertilized egg, there is a direct stream
of the germ-plasm which flows continuously from germ-cell to germ-cell
through succeeding generations. This stream, be it noted, does not
flow circuitously from egg to adult and then to new germ-cells, but it
is direct and continuous, and apparently it can not pick up any of the
body-changes of an acquired nature; indeed, it is doubtful whether
such changes can reach the germ-cells at all, for the path is not
traversed in that retrograde direction.

It must be clear, I am sure, that this theory supplements natural
selection, as it describes the physical basis of inheritance, it demon-
strates the efficiency of congenital or germ-plasmal factors of variation
in contrast with the Lamarckian factors, and finally in the way that
in the view of Weismann it accounts for the origin of variations as the
result of the commingling of two differing parental streams of germ-
plasm.

At first, for many reasons, Weismann's theories did not meet with
general acceptance, but during recent years there has been a marked
return to many of his positions, mainly as the result of further cytolog-
ical discoveries, and of the formulation of Mendel's law and of De
Vries's mutation theory. The first-named law was propounded by
Gregor Mendel on the basis of extensive experiments upon plants con-
ducted during many years, from 1860 on, in the obscurity of his mon-
astery garden at Altbrunn, in Germany. It was rescued from oblivion
by De Vries who found it buried in a mass of literature and brought
it to light when he published his renowned mutation theory in 1901.
Mendelian phenomena of inheritance, confirmed and extended by
numerous workers with plants and animals, prove that in many cases
portions of streams of germ-plasm that combine to form the hereditary
content of organisms may retain their individuality during embryonic
and later development, and that they may emerge in their original purity
when the germ-cells destined to form a later generation undergo the
preparatory processes called maturation. They demonstrate also the
apparent chance nature of the phenomena of inheritance. I think the
most striking and significant result in this field is the proof that a
particular chromosome or chromatin mass determines a particular
character of an adult organism, which is quite a different matter
from the reference of all the hereditary characters to all of the chro-

454 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

matin. Professor Wilson has brought forward the convincing data
showing that the complex character of sex in insects actually resides
in or is determined by particular and definite masses of this wonderful
basis of inheritance.

Mendel's principles also account in the most remarkable way for
many previously obscure phenomena, such as reversion, and again, the
case where a child resembles its grandparent more than either of its
parents; these seem to be due, so to speak, to the rise to the surface
of a hidden stream of germ-plasm that had flowed for one or many
generations beneath its accompanying currents. I believe that the law
is replacing more and more the laws of Galton and Pearson, formu-
lated as statistical summaries of certain phenomena of human inheri-
tance taken en masse. According to Galton's celebrated law of ances-
tral inheritance, the qualities of any organism are determined to the
extent of a certain fraction by its two parents taken together as a
mid-parent, that a smaller definite fraction is contributed by the grand-
parents taken together as a mid-grandparent, and so on to earlier
generations. But Mendel's Law has far greater definiteness, it explains
more accurately the cases of alternative inheritance, and it may be
shown to hold for blended and mosaic inheritance as well.

De Vries's mutation theory has already been explained in an
earlier address by Professor Richards. It is clearly not an alternative
but a complementary theory to natural selection, the germ-plasm
and Mendelian theories. Like these last, it emphasizes the importance
of the congenital hereditary qualities contained in the germ-plasm,
though unlike the Darwinian doctrine it shows that sometimes new
forms may arise by sudden leaps and not necessarily by the slow and
gradual accumulation of slight modifications or fluctuations. The
mutants like any other variants must present themselves before the
jury of environmental circumstances, which passes judgment upon their
condition of adaptation, and they, too, must abide by the verdict that
means life or death.

From what has been said of these post-Darwinian discoveries, the
Lamarckian doctrine, which teaches that acquired non-congenital char-
acters are transmitted, seems to be ruled out. I would not lead you to
believe that the matter is settled. I would say only that the non-
transmission of racial mutilations, negative breeding experiments upon
mutilated rats and mice, the results of further study of supposedly
transmitted immunity to poisons — that all these have led zoologists to
render the verdict of "not proved." The future may bring to light
positive evidence, and cases like Brown-Sequard's guinea-pigs, and
results like those of MacDougal with plants and of Tower with beetles
may lead us to alter the opinion stated. But as it stands now most
investigators hold that there are strong general grounds for disbelief
in the principle, and also that it lacks experimental proof.

ZOOLOGY 455

The explanation of natural evolution given by Darwinism and the
principles of Weismann, Mendel and De Vries, still fails to solve the
mystery completely, and appeal has been made to other agencies, even
to teleology and to " unknown " and " unknowable " causes as well as
to circumstantial factors. A combination of Lamarckian and Dar-
winian factors has been proposed by Lloyd Morgan, Mark Baldwin and
Professor Osborn, in the theory of organic selection. The theory
of orthogenesis propounded by Naegeli and Eimer, now gaining much
ground, holds that evolution takes place in direct lines of progressive
modification, and is not the result of apparent chance. Of these and
similar theories, all we can say is that if they are true, they are not so
well-substantiated as the ones we have reviewed at greater length.

The task of experimental zoology is to work more extensively and
deeply upon inheritance and variation, combining the methods and
results of cellular biology, biometrics and experimental breeding. We
may safely predict that great advances will be made during the next
few years in analyzing the method of evolution ; and that a few decades
hence men will look back to the present time as a period of transition
like the era of re-awakened interest and renewed investigation that
followed the appearance of the " Origin of Species."

We must now state distinctly and fairly the present views of science
regarding man's place in nature. Surely human evolution is a subject
that falls within the scope of zoological investigation, unless indeed it
can be shown that the human species is exempt from the control of
those laws of nature that hold sway over the animate world elsewhere,
unless something can be found which excludes man from the animal
kingdom. Notwithstanding the most prolonged search not only by
zoologists but as well by those who have been unfriendly to the doc-
trine of descent, the study of man and of men has revealed nothing
essentially unique. What is known of the anatomy, development and
fossil relations of man is summarized in the statement that he belongs
to the genus and species Homo sapiens, placed with the apes and some
other forms in the order primates because of agreement in certain
peculiar details. The primates agree with the carnivora, rodents and
many other orders in the characteristics of the class mammalia, which
in turn is only a branch of the limb vertebrata or chordata, which also
bears the avian, reptilian, amphibian and fish branches. And all the
vertebrates including man agree with the varied groups of invertebrates
in their cellular constitution and in the similar protoplasmic basis of
life. As in these structural respects, so in physiological activities and
in environmental relations the human species proves more surely with
increased knowledge to be only one of the terms in the extensive series
of animals. Indeed, the scientific monism of Haeckel and Clifford

456 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ventures to assert that man and all other living creatures are one with
the mind-stuff of the inorganic world — and this, I believe, is only the
logical extension of the genetic and mechanistic hypotheses. However
this may be, science holds that human structure is animal structure,
and that human lives are biological phenomena.

Man is structurally inferior in many respects to some of his zoolog-
ical relatives — he is a degenerate, indeed, in many parts of the alimen-
tary, muscular and skeletal systems — yet he finds in the higher devel-
opment of his nervous system an advantage that offsets the weaknesses
of his constitution elsewhere. He holds his supreme place by virtue
only of superior and more effective control of his organization.

Behind their seeming structural differences, only one real distinc-
tion can be found to separate man from the apes — the higher develop-
ment of the brain. The erect posture, the correlated modifications of
skeletal and muscular structures, and apparently the powers of speech
and reason, seem to be dependent upon the enlargement of this organ,
which, so to speak, has pushed the face around under the brain-case.
Therefore he who would be 6 ^vftncoKoc — he who looks ahead — must
needs stand erect in order to prevent his eyes from looking straight
into the ground. But the most careful analysis has so far failed to
detect any essential differences in either structural or functional
respects between the human brain and the corresponding organs of the
higher apes. In brief, then, differences in degree and not in kind or
category seem to distinguish man from the apes — as far as science goes.

Moreover, the human body is a veritable museum of rare and inter-
esting relics of antiquity — the useless vestiges and rudiments of struc-
tures that are more developed in other animals. The complete coat
of hair of the embryo, the disappearing thirteenth rib, the ape-like
and transitory clasping muscle of the new born infant's hand, the
curvature of the lower limb and the hand-like foot of the embryo, these
and scores of other characters are mutely eloquent witnesses to the
past history of change that has brought man to his present place in
nature. Embryology gives a vast amount of additional independent
testimony. For like all embryo mammals and birds and reptiles, the
human embryo possesses gill-slits, and fish-like heart and brain. Above
all it begins life as a single cell. Zoology asks : What can these things
mean, if they do not mean evolution and a common ancestry with other
forms ? The objection that no one has ever seen a one-celled organism
evolve into a many-celled one, or into a fish or an ape, or into a man,
the zoologist answers by placing upon the table the evidence that a
single-cell, the human egg, actually does compass the whole history in
becoming the almost inconceivably complex adult organism. The
process can take place for it does take place. Paleontology also pre-
sents evidence relating to the history of our species, as the third support

ZOOLOGY 457

of the tripod upon which rests the doctrine of human evolution. While
opinions differ with respect to the remains of man taken from the
many caves and mounds of Europe and America, there is but one
generally accepted view regarding the ape-man Pithecanthropus of the
Javan rocks. The remains of this animal prove among other things
that its brain was intermediate between the average ape brain and the
average human brain, that the animal was indeed an ape-man and
nothing else.

Science holds, furthermore, that natural factors alone have brought
about human evolution. While it is true that the explanation is no
more complete for this special instance than it is for animals in general,
yet the human species is not exempt from the control of the known
factors, like those which cause variation or govern inheritance. Indeed,
some of the significant facts of hereditv have been first made out in
the human species. Can we doubt the reality of selection and the
struggle for existence when scores perish annually in the conflict with
extreme degrees of temperature and other environmental forces, when
as a result of the unceasing combat with bacterial enemies alone the
casualties on the human side number in our country more than a
hundred thousand annually?

To the zoologist it seems strange that there is so much opposition
to the doctrine of human evolution. In truth he finds this to be pro-
portional to misunderstanding of the facts, for when the evidence is
produced — Pelion piled on Ossa — any lingering doubts the observer
might have are crushed by an irresistible weight of testimony. After
all, our kind is but one of the many hundreds of thousands of living
species; and viewing the matter from the calm, impersonal standpoint
of scientific study, the fact that he is himself a human being does not
distort the investigator's vision, for his perspective is corrected and
rectified by the instruments of scientific method. He finds no difficulty
in accepting human evolution as a scientific fact — that is, true as far
as science goes.

In extending its broad comparative studies into the field of complex
and intricate human nature, zoology touches numerous other sciences
that might seem at first sight to be entirely independent, or at the most
only casually connected with it. I shall venture to point out where
analysis within the field of zoology has produced results which have
a high and immediate value for students of anthropology, psychology,
sociology and ethics.

When they deal with the evolution of the human species from pre-
human animals, the anthropologist and the zoologist are brought by
their similar interest upon common ground; and when they pass on
to explore the field of human diversity where lie the complex problems

458 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of racial evolution, they are still fellow-workers, for in the case of
physical anthropology of human races at least the methods are the same
which are employed in zoology generally. Of course it would be absurd
for any one to contend that all the problems of anthropology are strictly
zoological questions; to qualify here an investigator must be familiar
with linguistics, racial customs and beliefs, and many subjects that
are as such apparently outside the limits of zoology. But unless a
sharp line is to be drawn between the slow origin by evolution of the
human species and the later history of this species, the comparative and
genetic methods of analysis which render the earlier process intelligible
can scarcely fail to be of service in dealing with the latter. The great
danger, which the zoologist himself clearly sees, arises from a tendency
to ignore the detail in formulating the general, to oversimplify the
problems of the more recent history. For human conscious elements
are so complex and plastic that the problems of racial evolution are
rendered far more intricate than the broad zoological analysis of the
origin of man as a species.

Psychology, in the second place, is a subject that is related to
zoology by the closest of ties, the bond of union being again the common
human element. To be sure, the zoologist finds enough in his own
field to occupy him fully, but the compaative study of nervous systems,
and of the reflex, instinctive, intelligent and reasoned responses of
animals brings him inevitably to consider the relation of human men-
tality and consciousness to the other terms of the animal series. Deal-
ing strictly as a zoologist with animals and their lives, the investigator
learns that the machine-like regularity of reflex and instinctive activ-
ities is correlated, broadly speaking, with simple nervous organization;
that the plasticity of intelligent response is not gained until the physical
basis becomes far more complicated; and finally that reason and con-
sciousness are in some way bound up with the higher development of
the nerve-centers or ganglia that make up the brain. So the zoologist
is inclined to believe that the comparative series of mental grades
which culminates in the consciousness, or rather the self-consciousness,
of the adult human organism, and the series of developmental stages
through which the human mental structure passes during infancy and
childhood, indicate an evolution in time of the psychic being of man.
Whatever may be the outcome of further study, Eomanes, Lloyd
Morgan, Forel and Thorndike, among those of modern times, have
demonstrated that the genetic methods of zoology are useful instru-
ments for the psychologist, who, I believe, is becoming more and more
a student of zoological materials as he realizes the advantage of study-
ing the simpler psychic phenomena of animals lower than man.

In venturing to speak of the relation of zoology to sociology and
ethics, I am well aware that I shall be charged with straying beyond

ZOOLOGY 459

the confines of my subject. But if the student of lower forms should
find well-defined principles of biological association and principles of
animal conduct, it is not only his privilege, it is in a sense his duty
as well to bring these to the consideration of the students of human
social and ethical relations. Unless in these matters there has been a
break in the continuity of evolution, the simpler relations to be observed
in lower animals must surely possess a profound interest — and perhaps
more.

In a true sense, any of the many-celled animals is a community,
whose constituent members are the differentiated tissue-cells, which
have undertaken the various tasks of digestion, contraction, sensation
and the rest. By far the majority of animals are cell-communities of
this nature. Considering these as individuals, though of a secondary
order, we find some communities made up of several animals which
have banded together for mutual support and defense, giving us as
in the wolf -pack a counterpart of the lowest associations of savage men.
But among insects especially we find colonies of numerous multicellular
individuals which may be so rigidly specialized for the performance of
certain tasks that we can not avoid the use of terms applied to civilized
human groups in describing their differentiation and division of labor.
Some colonies of bees comprise queens and drones and only one kind
of sterile workers, though when newly hatched these last serve as guards
and nurses, taking the field as foragers for pollen and honey only later
in life. In various ant-colonies we shall find workers who serve as
herdsmen, devoting their time to the care of the ant-cattle or aphids;
again there are masons, and gardeners, and carpenters, and soldiers of
various ranks, while in the honey-ant some individuals may serve as
living receptacles for the tribal stores of food. Each kind undertakes
one of the tasks that are vital for the life of the community as a whole.
Instinctive and unreasoned their activities may be, and undoubtedly
are, but the economic and social relations of the component members
of the colony are strikingly analogous to certain fundamental phe-
nomena of human societies. But still more wonderful are the cases
that may be found among hornets and wasps. A fertile female over-
winters and places her first-laid eggs in the chambers of a simple nest
that she constructs herself. When the young of the first brood hatch,
she provides them with food, enlarges the nest, and continues the task
of egg-laying, while her first offspring relieve her of her former duties
as they become able. They enlarge the nest, they care for their younger
kin as they hatch, they forage abroad for the food-supplies for the
colony. And so the community that begins life in the early spring
with a solitary animal advances during the passing weeks to a degree
of complexity that is truly astounding. As an epitome of insect social
evolution it gives in a few weeks a review of the process that in other

460 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

forms of social insects with stable colonies, or in the analogous human
history, has demanded centuries of time.

As we review these different kinds of individuals — the one-celled
animal, the many-celled creature and the community — we see that each
one must obey certain rules of nature. It must preserve itself, it must
perpetuate its kind, and, if it be a member of a higher community, it
must act in the interests of others and of the whole group. Do we
not find, then, biological definitions of right, and evil, and duty to
others as well as to self? Do we not see why altruism has grown out
of egoism as communities have evolved at the behest of nature?

But still, facts like these are purely zoological facts. To be well
within his rights, the zoologist should perhaps only suggest their useful-
ness for the analysis of human social relations and obligations. It is
for the sociologist and the student of comparative ethics to employ and
apply them according to the principles of the genetic method, should
they see fit to do so.

In closing, may I say a few words regarding the attitude of the
zoologist toward his problems and his results. He may maintain this
attitude because of a certain temperament which leads him and his
fellows to enter the field of science as investigators. While this may
be true, it is also true, I believe, that the subjects of their study, the
principles they may discern in nature's order, and their methods of
analysis have a profound reflex effect upon not only the contents of
their minds but upon their mental machinery as well. The zoologist,
like his fellow men of science, learns early that he must adopt an
impersonal attitude, for emotion and purely human interest are dis-
turbing elements that prevent him from attaining the purpose of the
investigator — which is, to ascertain and verify facts, to classify them
logically, so as to derive from them the summaries which like so much
" conceptual short-hand " are available for others as well as himself.
Science is " organized knowledge," as Pearson defines it ; " organized
common sense " in Huxley's phrase ; and like other men of science the
zoologist learns to view his great common-sensible principles like the
doctrine of descent, not as absolute eternal verities, but only as sum-
maries up to date, as working programs, to employ Professor Wilson's
concise phrase. This may be pragmatism ; it is certainly science.

But surely this does not mean that principles like the one mentioned
are so many gratuitous assumptions. Like the principle of gravitation
and the law of the conservation of energy, zoological laws have the
strength and approximate finality of all the wide range of facts that
they summarize. And these are many — a vast store of detail and gen-
eralization accumulated during decades and centuries by those who
have sought upon the mountains or in the abysses of the seas for new
knowledge, but countless students who have spent their lives in the field

ZOOLOGY 461

and in the laboratory in the endeavor to pierce still further with trained
insight into the mysteries of nature. And these are their results.

No one realizes more than the zoologist that his knowledge is incom-
plete. No one can see more clearly than he that his intellect evolves,
like the great sweeping tide of things and events — the nature he studies
and of which he is but a conscious atom. The investigator soon learns
to withhold final judgment, agreeing with Clifford that the primary
conditions for intellectual development are the plasticity and openness
of mind that dogmatism and finality destroys. The end of zoology
can not be until the end of all knowledge.

Conscious, then, of the impossibility of reaching absolutely final
knowledge, why does the investigator continue to search the world of
nature as he does? Because of that ingrained and insatiable human
curiosity to learn, because of the human discontent with the attained.
Antaeus-like, every fresh contact with the world of law and order
infuses new energy into his veins for further endeavor. " Und es treibt
und reisst ihn fort, rastlos fort . . ." not, it is true, in the wandering
blindness of Schiller's huntsman, for his human vision is aided by
the instrument of scientific method with which he can almost perceive
the infinitely great and the infinitely small.

Glorying in the great achievements of his science, reveling like the
mathematician in the ordered assemblage of related and organized
knowledge, the student of zoology joins his fellows yet again for a
renewed attack upon the distant ramparts of the unknown, deriving
courage and inspiration from the motto : Ignoramus, in hoc signo
lab or emus.

462 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

EXPERIMENTS WITH THE LANGLEY AERODROME1

By Db. S. P. LANGLEY

SECRETARY OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

THE experiments undertaken by the Smithsonian Institution upon
an aerodrome, or flying machine, capable of carrying a man have
been suspended from lack of funds to repair defects in the launching
apparatus without the machine ever having been in the air at all. As
these experiments have been popularly, and of late repeatedly, rep-
resented as having failed, on the contrary, because the aerodrome could
not sustain itself in the air I have decided to give this brief though
late account, which may be accepted as the first authoritative state-
ment of them.

It will be remembered that in 1896 wholly successful flights of
between one half and one mile by large steam-driven models, unsup-
ported except by the mechanical effects of steam engines, had been
made by me. In all these the machine was first launched into the
air from "ways," somewhat as a ship is launched into the water, the
machine resting on a car that ran forward on these ways, which fell
down at the extremity of the car's motion, releasing the aerodrome for
its free flight. I mention these details because they are essential to
an understanding of what follows, and partly because their success
led me to undertake the experiments on a much larger scale I now
describe.

In the early part of 1898 a board, composed of officers of the army
and navy, was appointed to investigate these past experiments with a
view to determining just what had been accomplished and what the
possibilities were of developing a large-size man-carrying machine for
war purposes. The report of this board being favorable, the Board of
Ordnance and Fortification of the War Department decided to take
up the matter, and I having agreed to give without compensation what
time I could spare from official duties, the board allotted $50,000 for
the development, construction and test of a large aerodrome, half of
which sum was to be available immediately and the remainder when
required. The whole matter had previously been laid before the board
of regents of the Smithsonian Institution, who had authorized me to

1 Dr. Langley's pioneer experiments in aerial navigation are of such con-
temporary interest that we reproduce this article, written shortly before his
death, and printed in the Annual Report of the Smithsonian Institution for 1904.

THE LANGLEY AERODROME 463

take up the work and to use in connection with it such facilities of the
institution as were available.

Before consenting to undertake the construction of this large
machine, I had fully appreciated that, owing to theoretical considera-
tions, into which I do not enter, it would need to be relatively lighter
than the smaller one; and later it was so constructed, each foot of
sustaining surface in the large machine carrying nearly the same
weight as each foot in the model. The difficulties subsequently ex-
perienced with the larger machine were, then, due not to this cause,
but to practical obstacles connected with the launching, and the like.

I had also fully appreciated the fact that one of the chief difficulties
in its construction would lie in the procuring of a suitable engine
of sufficient power and, at the same time, one which was light enough.
(The models had been driven by steam engines whose water supply
weighed too much for very long flights.) The construction of the
steam engine is well understood, but now it would become necessary
to replace this by gas engines, which for this purpose involve novel
difficulties. I resolved not to attempt the task of constructing the
engine myself, and had accordingly entered into negotiations with
the best engine builders in this country, and after long delay had finally
secured a contract with a builder who, of all persons engaged in such
work, seemed most likely to achieve success. It was only after this
contract for the engine had been signed that I felt willing to formally
undertake the work of building the aerodrome.

The contract with the engine builder called for an engine develop-
ing 12 brake horsepower, and weighing not more than 100 pounds,
including cooling water and all other accessories, and with the proviso
that a second engine, exactly like this first one, would be furnished
on the same terms. The first engine was to be delivered before the
close of February, 1899, and the frame of the aerodrome with sus-
taining surfaces, propellers, shafting, rudders, etc., was immediately
planned, and now that the engine was believed to be secured, their
actual construction was pushed with the utmost speed. The previous
experiments with steam-driven models, which had been so successful,
had been conducted over the water, using a small house-boat having
a cabin for storing the machine, appliances and tools, on top of which
was mounted a track and car for use in launching. As full success
in launching these working models had been achieved after several
years spent in devising, testing and improving this plan, I decided
to follow the same method with the large machine, and accordingly
designed and had built a house-boat, in which the machine could not
only be stored, but which would also furnish space for workshops,
and on the top of which was mounted a turntable and track for use
in launching from whatever direction the wind might come.

464 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Everything connected with the work was expedited as much as
possible with the expectation of being able to have the first trial flight
before the close of 1899, and time and money had been spent on the
aerodrome, which was ready, except for its engine, when the time for
the delivery of this arrived. But now the builder proved unable to
complete his contract, and, after months of delay, it was necessary to
decrease the force at work on the machine proper and its launching
appliances until some assurance could be had of the final success of
the engine. During the spring and summer of 1899, while these
delays were being experienced in procuring suitable engines, former
experiments on superposed wing surfaces were continued, time was
found for overhauling the two steam-driven models which had been
used in 1896, and the small house boat was rebuilt so that further
tests of these small machines might be made in order to study the
effect of various changes in the balancing and the steering, equilibrium
preserving and sustaining appliances, and the months of June, July
and a portion of August were spent in actual tests of these machines
in free flight.

A new launching apparatus following the general plan of the
former overhead one, but with the track underneath it, was built for
the models, and it was used most successfully in these experiments,
more than a dozen flights in succession being made with it, while in
every case it worked without delay or accident. As soon as these
tests with the models on this underneath launching apparatus were
completed, that for the large machine was built as an exact duplicate,
except for the enlargement, and with some natural confidence that what
had worked so perfectly on a small scale would work fairly on a large
one.

It was recognized from the very beginning that it would be desir-
able in a large machine to use " superposed " sustaining surfaces (that
is, with one wing above another) on account of their superiority so
far as the relation of strength to weight is concerned, and from their
independence of guy wiring; and two sets of superposed sustaining
surfaces of different patterns were built and experimented with in the
early tests. These surfaces proved, on the whole, inferior in lifting
power, though among compensating advantages are the strength of a
" bridge " construction which dispenses with guy wires coming up from
below, which, in fact, later were the cause of disaster in the launching.

It was finally decided to follow what experiment had shown to be
successful, and to construct the sustaining surfaces for the large
machine after the " single-tier " plan. This proved to be no easy
task, since in the construction of the surfaces for the small machines
the main and cross ribs of the framework had been made solid, and,
after steaming, bent and dried to the proper curvature, while it was

THE LANGLEY AERODROME 465

obvious that this plan could not be followed in the large surfaces on
account of the necessity, already alluded to, of making them relatively
lighter than the small ones, which were already very light. After the
most painstaking construction, and tests of various sizes and thick-
nesses of hollow square, hollow round, I-beam, channel, and many
other types of ribs. I finally devised a type which consisted of a hollow
box form, having its sides of tapering thickness, with the thickest part
at the point midway between contiguous sides and with small parti-
tions placed inside every few inches in somewhat the same way that
nature places them in the bamboo. These various parts of the rib
(corresponding to the quill in a wing) were then glued and clamped
together, and after drying were reduced to the proper dimensions and
the ribs covered with several coats of a special marine varnish, which
it had been found protected the glued joints from softening, even when
they were immersed in water for twenty-four hours.

Comparative measurements were made between these large cross
ribs, 11 feet long, and a large quill from the wing of a harpy eagle,
which is probably one of the greatest wonders that nature has produced
in the way of strength for weight. These measurements showed that
the large, 11-foot ribs ("quills") for the sustaining surfaces of the
large machine were equally as strong, weight for weight, as the quill
of the eagle; but much time was consumed in various constructions
and tests before such a result was finally obtained.

During this time a model of the large machine, one fourth of its
linear dimensions, was constructed, and a second contract was made
for an engine for it. The delay with the large engine was repeated
with the small one, and in the spring of 1900 it was found that both
contract engines were failures for the purpose for which they were
intended, as neither one developed half of the power required for the
allotted weight.

I accordingly again searched all over this country, and, finally, ac-
companied by an engineer (Mr. Manly), whose services I had engaged,
went to Europe, and there personally visited large builders of engines
for automobiles, and attempted to get them to undertake the construc-
tion of such an engine as was required. This search, however, was
fruitless, as all of the foreign builders, as well as those of this country,
believed it impossible to construct an engine of the necessary power
and as light as I required (less than 10 pounds to the horsepower
without fuel or water). I was, therefore, forced to return to this
country and to consent most reluctantly, even at this late date, to
have the work of constructing suitable engines undertaken in the
shops of the Smithsonian Institution, since, as I have explained, the
.aerodrome frame and wings were already constructed. This work

VOL. lxxiii.— 30.

466 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

upon the engines began here in August, 1900, in the immediate care
of Mr. Manly. These engines were to be of nearly double the power
first estimated and of little more weight, but this increased power and
the strain caused by it demanded a renewal of the frame as first built,
in a stronger and consequently in a heavier form, and the following
sixteen months were spent in such a reconstruction simultaneously
with the work on the engines.

The flying weight of the machine complete, with that of the
aeronaut, was 830 pounds; its sustaining surface, 1,040 square feet.
It, therefore, was provided with slightly greater sustaining surface
and materially greater relative horsepower than the model subse-
quently described which flew successfully. The brake horsepower of
the engine was 52; the engine itself, without cooling water, or fuel,
weighed approximately 1 kilogram to the horsepower. The entire
power plant, including cooling water, carburetor, battery, etc., weighed
materially less than 5 pounds to the horsepower. Engines for both
the large machine and the quarter-size model were completed before
the close of 1901, and they were immediately put in their respective
frames and tests of them and their power-transmission appliances were
begun.

It is well here to call attention to the fact that although an engine
may develop sufficent power for the allotted weight, yet it is not at
all certain that it will be suitable for use on a machine which is
necessarily as light as one for traversing the air, for it would be im-
possible to use, for instance, a single cylinder gasoline engine in a
flying machine unless it had connected to it prohibitively heavy fly-
wheels. These facts being recognized, the engines built in the Smith-
sonian shops were provided with five cylinders, and it was found upon
test that the turning effect received from them was most uniform, and
that, by suitable balancing of rotating and reciprocating parts, they
could be made to work so that there was practically no vibration, even
when used in the very light frames of the aerodromes.

The engine is not all the apparatus connected with the development
and delivery of power, for obviously there must be shafts, bearings,,
and in the present case there were also gars; and all of these parts
must necessarily be phenomenally light, while all of the materials must
be capable of withstanding repeated and constant strains far beyond
their elastic limit. It is also evident to any one having familiarity
with such constructions that it is most difficult to keep the various
bearings, shafts, gears, etc., in proper alignment without adding ex-
cessive weight, and also that when these various parts once get out of
alignment when subject to strain, the disasters which are caused
render them unfit for further use.

The engines themselves were successfully completed before the close

THE LANGLEY AERODROME 467

of 1901, and were of much more power than those originally designed;
but nearly a year and a half had been spent not only in their comple-
tion, but in properly coordinating the various parts of the frame
carrying them, repairing the various breakages, assembling, dismount-
ing and reassembling the various parts of the appliances, and in gen-
eral rebuilding the frame and appurtenances to correspond in strength
to the new engines.

There are innumerable other details, for the whole question is one
of details. I may, however, particularly mention the carburetors,
which form an essential part of every gas engine, and such giving
fair satisfaction for use in automobiles were on the market at the
time, yet all of them failed to properly generate gas when used in the
tests of the engine working in the aerodrome frame, chiefly because
of the fact that the movement of the engine in this light frame must
be constant and regular or the transmission appliances are certain of
distortion. It was, therefore, necessary to devise carburetors for the
aerodrome engines which would meet the required conditions, and more
than half a dozen were constructed which were in advance of anything
then on the market, and yet were not good enough to use in the aero-
drome, before a satisfactory one was made. These experiments were
made in the shop, but with an imitation of all the disturbing influences
which would be met with in the actual use of the machine in the air,
so as to make certain, as far as possible, that the first test of the
machine in free flight would not be marred by mishaps or unseen
contingencies in connection with the generation and use of power.

It is impossible for any one who has not had experience with such
matters to appreciate the great amount of delay which experience
has shown is to be expected in such experiments. Only in the spring
of 1903, and after two unforeseen years of assiduous labor, were these
new engines and their appurtenances, weighing altogether less than
5 pounds to the horsepower and far lighter than any known to be then
existing, so coordinated and adjusted that successive shop tests could
be made without causing injury to the frame, its bearings, shafts or
propellers.

And now everything seemed to be as nearly ready for an experiment,
as could be, until the aerodrome was at the location at which the ex-
periments were to take place. The large machine and its quarter-size
counterpart were accordingly placed on board the large house boat,,
which had been completed some time before and had been kept in
Washington as an auxiliary shop for use in the construction work, and
the whole outfit was towed to a point in the Potomac Eiver, here three
miles wide, directly opposite Widewater, Va., and about forty miles
below Washington and midway between the Maryland and Virginia

468 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

shores, where the boat was made fast to moorings which had previously
been placed in readiness for it

Although extreme delays had already occurred, yet they were not
so trying as the ones which began immediately after the work was thus
transferred to the lower Potomac.

The object in constructing the quarter-size counterpart of the large
machine was to duplicate in it the balancing and relative proportions
of power, surface, etc., that had been arranged in the large one, so that
a test of it might be made which would determine whether the large
machine should be tried as arranged or the balancing and other ar-
rangements modified. The launching apparatus, which had proved
so eminently successful with the original steam-driven models in 1896,
was considered a thing so well tested that it had, as I have stated, been
duplicated on a suitable scale for use with the large aerodrome, and
it was felt that if this apparatus were exactly similar to the smaller
one it would be the one appliance least likely to mar the experiments.

In order to test the quarter-size model it was necessary to remove
its launching track from the top of the small house boat and place it
upon the deck of the large boat, in order to have all the work go on
at one place, as it was impossible, on account of its unseaworthiness,
to moor the small house boat in the middle of the river.

While this transfer of the launching apparatus from the small
boat to the large one was being made, the changed atmospheric con-
ditions incident to a large body of water over which thick fogs hung
a great portion of the time, from those of a well-protected shop on
the land, began to manifest themselves in such ways as the rusting of
the metal parts and fittings, and the consequent disarrangement of
the adjustment of the necessarily very accurate pieces of apparatus
connected with the ignition system of the engine. These difficulties
might have partly been anticipated, but there were others concerning
which the cause of the deterioration and disarrangement of certain
parts and adjustments was not immediately detected, and consequently
when short preliminary shop tests of the small machine were attempted
just prior to launching it, it was found that the apparatus did not
work properly, necessitating repairs and new constructions and con-
sequent delay. Although the large house boat with the entire outfit
had been moved down the river on July 14, 1903, it was not until the
eighth of August that the test of the quarter-size model was made, and
all of this delay was directly due to changed atmospheric conditions
incident to the change in locality. This test of the model in actual
flight was made on the eighth of August, 1903, when it worked most
satisfactorily, the launching apparatus, as always heretofore, perform-
ing perfectly, while the model, being launched directly into the face
of the wind, flew directly ahead on an even keel. The balancing

THE LANGLEY AERODROME 469

proved to be perfect, and the power, supporting surface, guiding and
equilibrium-preserving effects of the rudder also. The weight of the
model was 58 pounds, its sustaining surface 66 square feet, and the
horsepower from 2y2 to 3.

This was the first time in history, so far as I know, that a success-
ful flight of a mechanically sustained flying machine was made in
public.

The flight was not as long as had been expected, as it was found
afterwards that one of the workmen, in his zeal to insure an especially
good one, had overfilled the gasoline tank, which would otherwise have
enabled a flight several times as long. However, as such a flight would
have given absolutely no more data than the short one did. and as the
delays in getting ready for testing the large machine had already far
exceeded what was expected, it was thought best not to make any more
tests with the small one, as all of the data which were desired had been
procured, and it was accordingly stored away and every energy im-
mediately concentrated in getting the large machine ready for its first
test, which at that time seemed only a few days away.

During all these delays it may be remarked that we necessarily
resided near the house boat, and therefore in a region of malaria, from
whose attacks a portion of us suffered.

I have spoken of the serious delays in the test of the small machine
caused by changed atmospheric conditions, but they proved to be
almost negligible compared with what was later experienced with the
large one. I have also alluded to the fact that the necessarily light
ribs of the large sustaining wing surfaces were covered with several
coats of a special marine varnish which many tests had shown enabled
the glue to withstand submersion in water for more than twenty-four
hours without being affected. This water test was made with a view
to guarding against the joints of the ribs being softened when the
machine came down into the water, as it was planned for it to do at
the close of its flight, and these submersions had apparently shown
that no trouble need be anticipated from the effects of the sustaining
surfaces getting wet. It is an instance of the unpredictable delays
which present themselves, that when preparations had been begun for
the immediate trial of the large machine, already down the river, it
was found that every one of the cross ribs had been rendered almost
useless by the damp, though under shelter. As it would take months
to build new ones, a temporary means of repairing them was used.
There were other delays too numerous to mention, but chiefly incident
to working over the water, some of the principal of which were due
to storms dragging the house boat from its moorings and destroying
auxiliary apparatus, such as launches, boats, rafts, etc., to say nothing
of the time consumed in bringing workmen to and from the scene of

47o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the experiments. The propellers were even found to break under the
strain of the actual engines in the open, though they had not done so
in the shop, and this is mentioned as another instance of the numerous
causes of trying delay which it was impossible to foresee.

Finally, however, on the 3d of September, everything seemed to
be in readiness for the experiments, and the large aerodrome was
accordingly placed in position and all orders given and arrangements
made for a test that day. After stationing the various tugs, launches,
etc., at their predetermined positions so that they might render any
assistance necessary to the engineer or the aerodrome, in case it came
down in the water at a point distant from the house boat, and after
the photographers, with special telephoto cameras, had been stationed
on the shore in order that photographs with their trigonometrical
data might be obtained, from which speed, distance, etc., might be
later determined, and when every one was anxiously expecting the ex-
periment, a delay occurred from one of the hardly predictable causes
just mentioned in connection with the weather. An attempt was made
to start the engine so that it might be running at its proper rate when
the aerodrome was launched into free air after leaving the track, but
the dry batteries used for sparking the engine, together with the entire
lot of several dozen which were on hand as a reserve, had become
useless from the dampness.

I have merely instanced some of these causes of failure when every-
thing was apparently ready for the expected test, but only one who
was on the spot and who had interest in the outcome could appre-
ciate trials of this sort, and the delays of waiting for weather suitable
for experiments.

It was found that every storm which came anywhere in the vicinity,
immediately selected the river as its route of travel, and although a
ten-mile wind on the land would not be an insurmountable obstacle
during an experiment, yet the same wind on the river rendered it
impossible to maintain the large house boat on an even keel and free
from pitching and tossing long enough to make a test.

While speaking of the difficulties imposed by the weather, it should
also be understood that to take the aerodrome in parts from under the
shelter of the roof and assemble and mount it upon the upper works
was a task requiring four or five hours, and that during this time a
change in the weather was altogether likely to occur, and did re-
peatedly occur, sufficient to render the experiment impossible. Experi-
ence has shown, then, that the aerodrome should be sheltered by a
building, in which it shall be at all times ready for immediate launch-
ing. During all the delay resulting from this and other causes — since
it was never known on what day the experiment might take place — a
great expense for tug boats waiting at a distance of forty miles from

THE LANGLEY AERODROME

47i

the city, was incurred, and this was a part of the continuous drain on
the pecuniary resources, which proved ultimately more fatal than any
mishap to the apparatus itself.

Following the 3d of September, and after procuring new batteries,
short preliminary tests inside the boat were made in order to make
sure that there would be no difficulty in the running of the engine
the next time a fair opportunity arrived for making a test of the

machine in free flight.

Something of the same troubles which had

Fig. 1. Instantaneous Photograph of the Launch of October 7, 1903.

been met with in the disarrangement of the adjustments of the small
engine was experienced in the large one, although they occurred in
such a different way that they were not detected until they had caused
damage in the tests, and these disarrangements were responsible for
broken propellers, twisted shafts, crushed bearings, distorted frame-
work, etc., which were not finally overcome until the first of October.
After again getting everything in apparent readiness, there then
ensued a period of waiting on the weather until the seventh of October
(1903), when it became sufficiently quiet for a test, which I was now
beginning to fear could not be made before the following season. In
this, the first test, the engineer took his seat, the engine started with
ease and was working without vibration at its full power of over
fifty horse, and the word being given to launch the machine, the
car was released and the aerodrome sped along the track. Just as the
machine left the track, those who were watching it, among whom

472 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

were two representatives of the Board of Ordnance,2 noticed that the
machine was jerked violently down at the front (being caught, as
it subsequently appeared, by the falling ways),3 and under the full
power of its engine was pulled into the water, carrying with it its
engineer. When the aerodrome rose to the surface it was found that,
while the front sustaining surfaces had been broken by their impact
with the water, yet the rear ones were comparatively uninjured. As
soon as a full examination of the launching mechanism had been made,
it was found that the front portion of the machine had caught on the
launching car, and that the guy post, to which were fastened the guy
wires which are the main strength of the front surfaces, had been bent
to a fatal extent.

The machine, then, had never been free in the air, but had been
pulled down as stated.

The disaster just briefly described had indefinitely postponed the
test, but this was not all. As has been said before, the weather had
become very cold, and the so-called equinoctial storms being near, it
was decided to remove the house boat at the earliest time possible, but
before it could be done a storm came up and swept away all the
launches, boats, rafts, etc., and in doing so completely demolished the
greater part of them, so that when the house boat was finally removed
to Washington, on the fifteenth of October, these appurtenances had
to be replaced. It is necessary to remember that these long series of
delays worked other than mere scientific difficulties, for a more im-
portant and more vital one was the exhaustion of the financial means
for the work.

Immediately upon getting the boat to Washington the labor of con-
structing new sustaining surfaces was begun, and they were completed
about the close of November. It was proposed to make a second
attempt near the city, though in the meantime the ice had formed in
the river. However, on the eighth of December, 1903, the atmosphere
became very quiet shortly before noon and an immediate attempt was
made at Arsenal Point, quite near Washington, though the site was
unfavorable. Shortly after arriving at the selected point everything

■ ■ Major Macomb, of the Board of Ordnance, states in his report to the
board, that " the trial was unsuccessful because the front guy post caught in
its support on the launching car and was not released in time to give free flight,
as was intended, but, on the contrary, caused the front of the machine to be
dragged downward, bending the guy post and making the machine plunge into
the water about 50 yards in front of the house boat."

3 This instantaneous photograph, taken from the boat itself and hitherto
unpublished, shows the aerodrome in motion before it had actually cleared the
house boat. On the left is seen a portion of a beam, being a part of the falling
ways in which the front wing was caught, while the front wing itself is seen
twisted, showing that the accident was in progress before the aerodrome was
f-ce to fly.

THE LANGLEY AERODROME 473

was in readiness for the test. In the meantime the wind had arisen
and darkness was fast approaching, but as the funds for continuing the
work were exhausted, rendering it impossible to wait until spring for
more suitable weather for making a test, it was decided to go on with
it if possible This time there were on hand to witness the test the
writer, members of the Board of Ordnance, and a few other guests,
to say nothing of the hundreds of spectators who were waiting on the
various wharves and shores. It wras found impossible to moor the boat
without a delay which would mean that no test could be made on
account of darkness, so that it was held as well as possible by a tug,
and kept with the aerodrome pointing directly into the wind, though
the tide, which was running very strong, and the wind, which was
blowing ten miles an hour, were together causing much difficulty.
The engine being started and working most satisfactorily, the order
was given by the engineer to release the machine, but just as it was
leaving the track another disaster, again due to the launching ways,
occurred.4 This time the rear of the machine, in some way still unex-
plained, was caught by a portion of the launching car, which caused
the rear sustaining surfaces to break, leaving the rear entirely without
support, and it came down almost vertically into the water. Darkness
had come before the engineer, who had been in extreme danger, could
aid in the recovery of the aerodrome, the boat and machine had drifted
apart, and one of the tugs, in its zeal to render assistance, had fast-
ened a rope to the frame of the machine in the reverse position from
what it should have been attached and had broken the frame entirely
in two. While the injury which had thus been caused seemed almost
irreparable to one not acquainted with the work, yet it was found upon
close examination that only a small amount of labor would be necessary
in order to repair the frame, the engine itself being entirely uninjured.
Had this accident occurred at an earlier period, when there were funds
available for continuing the experiments, it would not have been so
serious, for many accidents in shop tests had occurred which, while
unknown to the general public, had yet caused greater damage and
required more time for repair than in the present case. But the
funds for continuing the work were exhausted, and it being found
impossible to immediately secure others for continuing it, it was found
necessary to discontinue the experiments for the present, though I
decided to use, from a private fund, the small amount of money

4 Major Macomb again states in his official report to the board: "The
launching car was released at 4:45 p.m. . . . The car was set in motion and
the propellers revolved rapidly, the engine working perfectly, but there was
something wrong with the launching. The rear guy post seemed to drag,
bringing the rudder down on the launching ways, and a crashing, rending
sound, followed by the collapse of the rear wings, showed that the machine had
been wrecked in the launching; just how it was impossible to see."

474 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

necessary to repair the frame so that it itself, together with its engine,
which was entirely uninjured, might be available for further use if it
should later prove possible, and that they themselves might be in
proper condition to attest to what they really represent as an engineer-
ing achievement.

Entirely erroneous impressions have been given by the account of
these experiments in the public press, from which they have been
judged, even by experts; the impression being that the machine could
not sustain itself in flight. It seems proper, then, to emphasize and
to reiterate, with a view to what has just been said, that the machine
has never had a chance to fly at all, but that the failure occurred on
its launching ways ; and the question of its ability to fly is consequently,
as yet, an untried one.

There have, then, been no failures as far as the actual test of the
flying capacity of the machine is concerned, for it has never been
free in the air at all. The failure of the financial means for continu-
ing these expensive experiments has left the question of their result
where it stood before they were undertaken, except that it has been
demonstrated that engines can be built, as they have been, of little
over one half the weight that was assigned as the possible minimum
by the best builders of France and Germany; that the frame can be
made strong enough to carry these engines, and that, so far as any
possible prevision can extend, another flight would be successful if
the launching were successful; for in this, and in this alone, as far
as is known, all the trouble has come.

The experiments have also given necessary information about this
launching. They have shown that the method which succeeded per-
fectly on a smaller scale is insufficient on a larger one, and they have
indicated that it is desirable that the launching should take place
nearer the surface of the water, either from a track upon the shore or
from a house boat large enough to enable the apparatus to be launched
at any time with the wings extended and perhaps with wings inde-
pendent of support from guys. But the construction of this new
launching apparatus would involve further considerable expenditures
that there are no present means to meet; and this, and this alone, is
the cause of their apparent failure.

Failure in the aerodrome itself or its engines there has been none;
and it is believed that it is at the moment of success, and when the
engineering problems have been solved, that a lack of means has pre-
vented a continuance of the work.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

475

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF

THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE

THEORY OF NATURAL

SELECTION

Modern biological science may be
said to date from the presentation by
Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel
Wallace to the Linnean Society on
July 1, 1858, of the theory of the
origin of species by means of natural
selection. The title of the joint paper
was " On the Tendency of Species to
form Varieties and on the Perpetua-
tion of Varieties and Species by Nat-
ural Means of Selection." This paper
was presented to the society by Joseph
D. Hooker and Charles Lyell, and the
•circumstances of the case are familiar
to most readers of this journal.

It will be remembered that Mr. Wal-
lace sent Darwin a paper written at
Ternate in the Malay Archipelago in
February, 1858, "On the Tendency of
Varieties to depart Indefinitely from
the Original Type." The argument was
strikingly similar to that of a manu-
script work on species which Darwin
had sketched *in 1839 and copied in
1844, when it was read by Hooker and

its contents subsequently communicated
to Lyell. During all this time Darwin
had been accumulating facts and weigh-
ing objections to the theory. It was
his first intention to allow Wallace's
paper to be printed without his own,
but he was persuaded by Hooker and
Lyell to assent to a joint presenta-
tion of his sketch, together with a let-
ter to Asa Gray dated September 5,
1857, and the paper by Wallace before
the Linnean Society. With an intro-
duction by Lyell and Hooker, it was
read by the secretary to the society in
July, 1858, and published that year in
its journal. The papers were reprinted
in the issue of The Popular Science
Monthly for November, 1901.

The fiftieth anniversary of this event
has now been adequately celebrated by
the Linnean Society. It was of special
interest that Dr. Wallace and Sir
Joseph Hooker were present and made
addresses. With the admirable gener-
osity which has always characterized
the relations of the two men, Wallace
yielded the superior part to Darwin.
He pointed out a certain similarity in
their careers — both had been collectors

The Darwin -Wali_\ce Medal of the Linnean Society.

v* ,.

A skel h from life by V. Monkhouse published in Knowledge.

Dr. Francis Darwin,
President of the Dublin Meeting of the British Association.

TEE PROGRESS OE SCIENCE

477

in early life, both had traveled exten-
sively, and both had at the critical
moment read Malthus's " Essay on
Population." Darwin himself, how-
ever, has pointed out that they dif-
fered in so far as he was led to his
views from a consideration of what
artificial selection has done for domes-
tic animals. Sir Joseph Hooker de-
scribed the events preceding and at
the time of the presentation of the
paper, from which Darwin was absent
through illness. A medal struck by
the society — here reproduced by the
courtesy of his secretary — was pre-
sented in gold to Dr. Wallace and in
silver to Sir Joseph Hooker, Professor
Ernst Haeckel, Professor Eduard
Strasburger, Professor August Weis-
mann, Dr. Francis Galton and Sir E.
Ray Lankester. Responses were made
by Professor Strasburger, Dr. Galton
and Sir E. Ray Lankester, and by
delegates from universities and acad-
emies, including Dr. Francis Darwin
and Lord Avebury.

The hundredth anniversary of the
birth of Darwin will occur on February
12 of next year, which is also the hun-
dredth anniversary of the birth of Lin-
coln. The event will be celebrated by
the University of Cambridge, and in
this country by Columbia University
and the New York Academy of Sciences
and doubtless elsewhere. The Amer-
ican Association for the Advancement
of Science will, at its Baltimore meet-
ing, give special prominence to exer-
cises in honor of the hundredth anni-
versary of Darwin's birth and the fif-
tieth anniversary of the publication of
" The Origin of Species."

THE DUBLIN MEETING OF THE
BRITISH ASSOCIATION
The recent meeting of the British
Association had a program of the usual
high standard and an attendance of
2,270 members and associates. The
size of the meeting was about the same
as the larger convocation-week meet-
ings of the American Association and

its affiliated societies, but the number
of scientific men and of scientific papers
is greater in this country. There were
at Dublin 1,374 associates, mainly
people living in Dublin and vicinity,
who joined the association for the
meeting, though not especially inter-
ested in science. The American Asso-
ciation has not been able to attract to
its meetings people of this class. This
is doubtless in part due to better social
organization in Great Britain — the
sentiment which leads the London
Times to devote pages to reports of
the meeting and every country house
to take in Nature — but it is also in
part due to the fact that the meetings
are made more attractive to those not
professionally engaged in scientific re-
search. It seems that our association
should aim to do more for this class,
for from it science needs sympathy,
support and recruits.

Mr. Francis Darwin, the president of
the meeting, who, like his brother. Sir
George Darwin, the president of the
South African meeting three years
ago, bears worthily his great name
now being celebrated on the occasion
of the fiftieth anniversary of the pub-
lication of the " Origin of Species,"
chose as the subject of his inaugural
address the reactions of plants. His
own experimental work has been large-
ly in this field, and the address was
made interesting to a large audience
by a discussion of consciousness in
plants' and the hereditary transmission
of acquired characters'. Public lectures
were given by Professor H. H. Turner,
of Oxford, on " Halley's Comet" and
by Professor W. M. Davis, of Harvard
University, on " The Lessons of the
Colorado Canon." The annual lecture
to the working classes was by Dr. A.
E. Tutton, on " The Crystallization of
Water."

The entertainments and excursions
were as usual very elaborate. The
reception given by the Royal Dublin
Society was attended by 4,000 guests,
and there were numerous luncheons

Dr. J. J. Thomson,

Cavendish Professor of Experimental Physics at Cambridge University,
President of the Winnipeg Meeting of the British Association.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

479

and garden parties. Special services
were held in the Episcopalian, Presby-
terian and Roman Catholic churches,
and the University of Dublin conferred
honorary degrees on a number of the
distinguished visitors.

The large annual membership of the
association and the comparatively
large fee enable it to make liberal
grants for scientific research, amount-
ing this year to about $7,000. Among
the grants of $250 or more were the
following: Professor H. H. Turner, for
seismological observations; Sir David
Gill, towards building a solar observa-
tory in Australia; Sir W. H. Preece,
for the study of gaseous explosions;
Professor J. Joly, for geological in-
vestigations at Briske, and Mr. D. G.
Hogarth, for archeological explorations
in Crete.

Dr. J. J. Thomson, Cavendish pro-
fessor of experimental physics at Cam-
bridge and eminent for his research
work concerned with the X-rays, ra-
dium and the breaking up of the atom,
was elected president for the meeting
to be held next year at Winnipeg, be-
ginning on August 25. Members of the
American Association are invited to
attend this meeting, and those who are
able to be present are certain to enjoy
unusual pleasure and profit.

THE PRESENT PANDEMIC OF
PLAGUE

The bulletin with this title prepared
by Assistant Surgeon General, J. M.
Eager, and issued by the Public Health
and Marine Hospital Service, exhibits
in a bald way the relentless forward
march of the bubonic plague, a circum-
stance more terrible and dramatic per-
haps than anything else in contem-
porary history. Emerging from the
obscure endemic focus in the province
of Yunnan, China, in the year 1894,
the plague appeared in Canton, and
there were a hundred thousand deaths
between March and August. The dis-
ease spread to Hong Kong and in 1896

to Bombay, there being some two thou-
sand deaths in the presidency. In 1897
there were over 55,000 deaths in India,
including nearly 10,000 in the city of
Bombay, with sporadic cases in Japan
and Turkey. In 1898 there were 117,-
000 deaths in India, and extending far
from its endemic home, there were
cases in Madagascar and Mauritius.
In 1899 there were 135,000 deaths in
India and serious epidemics in China.
Cases occurred in Egypt and the
Hawaiian Islands, and South America
was invaded. There were local epi-
demics in Portugal and Russia. In
1900 there was a diminution in India,
the deaths falling to 92,000, but the
disease invaded San Francisco and was
present, and remains present, in every
quarter of the world, Europe, Asia,
Africa, Oceanica, North and South
America. In 1901 the hope of relief in
India was disappointed, the deaths
rising to 278,000, and in 1902 to 575,-
000. They increased further to 835,000
in 1903, and to the neighborhood of
one million in 1904 and 1905, falling
in 1906 to 332,000, but rising again
last year to the appalling record of
1,400,000 cases and 1,200,000 deaths.
The plague was present in all quarters
of the world, there being 156 cases and
76 deaths in San Francisco, and cases
in the suburbs and in Seattle.

If it were not for the great advance
of modern medicine western civiliza-
tion would be threatened with a dis-
aster unparalleled since the middle
ages. But the means by which the
plague is transmitted have been dis-
covered— we can exterminate fleas and
rats if necessary — and, thanks to the
labors of scientific and medical men,
not a few of whom have sacrificed their
lives, we are comparatively secure.
But protective measures and more
knowledge are needed here and in many
directions, and the governments of the
world should spend not less care and
money on them than on their arma-
ments.

48o

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS
We record with regret the deaths of
Dr. Charles Harrington, professor of
hygiene in the Harvard Medical School
and chairman of the Massachusetts
State Board of Health; of the Earl of
Rosse, F.R.S., who, like his father,
made valuable contributions to astron-
omy; of M. E. Mascart, since 1871
director of the French Meteorological
Office, and of General J. F. Nery Del-
gado, for many years director of the
Geological Survey of Portugal.

The Academy of Sciences at Turin
has awarded its Riberi prize of the
value of $4,000 to Professor Bosio, of
Turin, for his discoveries' in relation
to the biological reactions to arsenic,
tellurium and selenium. — The British
Ornithologists' Union will celebrate its
fiftieth anniversary in December next,
when gold medals will be presented to
the four surviving original members:
Dr. F. Du Cane Godman, F.R.S., Mr. j
P. S. Godman, Mr. W. H. Hudleston, j
F.R.S., and Dr. P. L. Sclater, F.R.S.

Professor L. H. Bailey has been
given leave of absence from the direct-

orship of the College of Agriculture of
Cornell University to devote his time
to the chairmanship of the commission
appointed by President Roosevelt to
investigate the conditions of rural life.
The other members of the commission
are: Henry Wallace, of Wallace's
Farmer, Des Moines, la.; President
Kenyon L. Butterfiejd, of the Massa-
chusetts Agricultural College; Gifford
Pinchot, chief of the Forest Service,
and Walter H. Page, editor of the
World's Work.— Dr. Charles H. Judd,
professor of psychology at Yale Uni-
versity, has been elected dean of the
school of education and head professor
of the department of education at the
University of Chicago, the appointment
to take effect at the close of the present
academic year.

The Berlin Academy of Sciences has
received a legacy of $7,500,000 from
Herr Samson, a banker of that city.
— M. Henri Becquerel has bequeathed
$20,000 to the Paris Academy of Sci-
ences in memory of his grandfather
and his father, who were members of
the academy.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

DECEMBER, 1908

THE CAUSE OF PULSATION

By ALFRED GOLDSBOROUGH MAYER

DIRECTOR OF THE DEPARTMENT OF MARINE BIOLOGY OF THE
CARNEGIE INSTITUTION OF WASHINGTON

THE following is an account of a research which was pursued at
the Marine Laboratory of the Carnegie Institution at Tortugas,
Florida.

An interesting jellyfish, Cassiopca xamachana, lives upon the
muddy bottoms of the lagoons of coral islands in the Florida and
West Indian regions. Here the stilted roots of dense green mangroves
fringe many a lagoon whose half stagnant waters have never felt the
surge of ocean waves. Looking down through the clear depths
one sees the bottom almost carpeted with the Cassiopea medusae.
Over wide areas they lie with their disks nearly touching and their
bell-rims languidly pulsating. At a glance one might mistake them
for sea-weeds, deceived as one would be by their delicate blue-green and
gray-blue color, and by the tree-like shape of the branching appendages
which bear the mouths of the medusa, and which project upward and
■outward hiding the pulsating disk below them.

At regular intervals around the rim of the jellyfish we find about
sixteen minute club-shaped organs, each set within a deep niche. The
microscope serves to show us that each of these little clubs contains at
its outer end a mass of crystals, and upon one side a simple cup-like
■eye. Even in medusa? six inches in diameter these sense-clubs are
smaller than the heads of the smallest pins ; mere specks barely discern-
ible to the eye, yet if they be cut off we find that the medusa ceases
to pulsate, while the cut-off portion of the rim still contracts rhyth-
mically. It is thus evident that the stimulus which produces each
:and every pulsation arises in the sense-clubs.

482

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The question is, why is it that the central disk of the medusa does
not pulsate in sea-water when its sense-clubs are removed? Curiously
enough, if we stimulate the disk in any manner, such as by a mechanical
or electrical shock, or by touching it with a crystal of common salt,
it gives a few vigorous pulsations and then lapses into quiescence.

But if Ave cut out the center of the medusa and also remove the
rim, thus forming a ring tissue without sense-organs (Fig. 2), tills-

Fig. 1. Living Medus.e of Cassiupca xamachana ox a Sandy Bottom. The-
large medusa in the middle is in the natural attitude with its mouth-arms uppermost.
The smaller medusae have been turned over in order to show their pulsating disks.

ring remains quiescent in sea-water unless we stimulate it at any point
such as at S with a single momentary touch of a crystal of potassium,
or in some other manner, when a contraction-wave starts out from the
point touched. In a narrow ring, however, tbe waves can go only in
opposite directions from the stimulated point. Now one of these waves
is apt to be strong and the otber weak ; for the nervous network which

THE CAUSE OF PULSATION

483

' « D

^ D

Fig. 2. Showing how a Pulsation-wave may be

Circuit of Tissue.

transmits them is almost certain to be more complete on one side than
on the other of any stimulated point. Of course the waves meet as in
Fig. 2, B, and then the strong wave destroys the weak one and con-
tinues around the ring. There is then only one wave left in the cir-
cuit and this travels constantly around (Fig. 2, C) for hours or days
until something stops it. such as the cutting of the circuit or a fresh
stimulus which produces a wave that meets and destroys it.

The weak wave was destroyed by the strong one in the above experi-
ment because a weak stimulus can not set tissue into pulsation, which
has been caused to pulsate through a strong stimulus, until after an
appreciable interval of rest. Thus a weak stimulus following im-
mediately after a strong one will produce no contraction, whereas a
strong stimulus may cause tissue to pulsate even immediately after it
has responded to a weak one.

It is now evident that the disk without its sense-organs can pulsate
in sea-water if only a wave be once started in it, but that under normal
conditions there is nothing to start a wave, and thus the disk remains
quiescent. In other words, the sea-water is indifferent, and neither
stimulates nor inhibits pulsation.

It is now time for us to determine why it is that the sea-water does
not stimulate the disk when its sense-organs are removed. In the first
place we must know the composition of sea-water, and chemical analysis
shows that it consists of a mixture of sodium chloride (common salt),
magnesium chloride and sulphate, potassium chloride, and calcium
chloride and sulphate.

Numerous experiments show us that the common salt is a strong
stimulant to both nerves and muscles. On the other hand, magnesium,
calcium and potassium, all inhibit and do not stimulate the disk.
Indeed, the stimulating effect of the common salt in the sea-water is
exactly offset by the subduing tendency of the magnesium, calcium and
potassium; and thus it is that the sea-water as a whole neither stimu-
lates nor inhibits the pulsation of the jellyfish. The sea-water main-

484 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tains the medusa in a delicately balanced fluid for it contains poisons
and antidotes as does our blood, which exactly counteract one the other.
For example, the jellyfish dies in less than two hours if placed in a
solution having the amounts and proportions of the common salt and
the potassium of the sea-water, but if we simply add the calcium it
pulsates very rapidly for more than twenty-four hours. Finally, how-
ever, the calcium produces so strong a muscular tetanus that the
pulsating tissue is torn literally to shreds; but all of these injurious
effects disappear when we add the magnesium, which causes the pulsa-
tion to become much slower and more regular, and wholly prevents
the calcium from producting tetanus. Another curious fact is that
were it not for the presence of the calcium the magnesium would so
stupefy the nervous and muscular tissue that no pulsation could arise.
This is the more remarkable because magnesium and calcium are both
inhibitors of pulsation, yet when both are present they tend in a
measure to offset each other, magnesium mainly inhibits the muscles,
while calcium stupefies the nerves.

But to return to our subject, let us carry out some experiments to
discover the nature of the stimulus which produces each pulsation of
the jellyfish. If we cut a ring from the medusa's disk such as is shown

in Fig. 3 and leaves a long narrow
strip AB attached to it, and then
start a contraction-wave traveling
e around the ring; every time the wave
passes the point A a side-tracked por-
tion of the wave will pass along the

FlG. 3. A PULSATING RING WITH AN ■• » Air, 1Tn i ■ n

"Index-strip" strip from A to B. When each side-

tracked wave comes to the end B it
dies out, for it can not return over the recently stimulated tissue
along which it has just passed. Thus we see that the index strip
AB simply serves to catch a portion of each wave which passes its
base.

Now suppose we place the ring in a pure solution of magnesium
chloride, and allow the index strip AB to remain in natural sea-water.
Then the contraction-wave gradually dies out in the pulsating ring, for
the magnesium paralyzes the muscles; and at the end of about a
quarter of an hour all movement will have ceased in the ring, but long
after this we find that the strip AB still continues to transmit con-
tractions at regular intervals of time. We see then that whenever the
something which produced the contraction in the ring comes around
to the point A it is still capable of setting up a contraction in the
strip AB, although it can not now cause the muscles of the ring itself
to pulsate.

The explanation is that the stimulus which produces pulsation is

THE CAUSE OF PULSATION 485

nervous in nature, and travels through the nervous tissue quite inde-
pendent of the presence or absence of the muscles. When therefore the
magnesium paralyzes the muscles the nervous stimulus still travels
around the ring even though the muscles can not now respond to it
by contraction.

We now are in a position to state that each pulsation is due to a
nervous stimulus which originates somehow in the sense-organs. The
question is, how does it originate ?

In all of the large jellyfishes called Scyphomedusae, the marginal
sense-organs are little clubs, the axial cores of which always contain
a terminal mass of crystals. These crystals consist of calcium oxalate
with a slight addition of uric acid and urea. The uric elements are
relatively inert and need not be further considered. The presence of
calcium oxalate, however, acquires some meaning when we find that
the sense-organs can not continue to give rise to pulsations unless they
be constantly supplied with soluble calcium, and all movement ceases
in a few moments if the jellyfish be placed in sea-water deprived of
calcium. We see at once that there must be some oxalate which is
constantly forming in the sense-organs, and which is precipitating the
soluble calcium chloride and sulphate of the sea-water to form the
insoluble calcic oxalate crystals of the sense-club.

The question before us is, what oxalate is being formed in the
sense-organs? We know that in certain tissues in the bodies of animals
oxalic acid, and other oxalates, are formed apparently through the
incomplete oxidation of carbohydrates. Now we find that even so
small a quantity as one part by weight of oxalic acid in one thousand
parts of sea-water paralyzes the sense-organs and permanently prevents
their giving rise to pulsation, although so weak a solution is not sen-
sibly poisonous to the general tissues of the medusa. Also the oxalates
of potassium and magnesium finally inhibit pulsation, and it can not
be that any of these is the cause of pulsation in the sense-organs.

The key to the mystery seems to be found, however, when we im-
merse the sense-organs in a solution of from 1 to 5 parts of sodium
oxalate in 1,000 parts of sea-water; for this immediately stimulates
them into great activity, whereas it has no effect if applied to any
part of the medusa other than the sense-organs.

Now sodium oxalate precipitates the calcium which enters the sense-
organ from the sea-water to form calcium oxalate, and sets free
common salt and sodium sulphate ; both of which are powerful nervous
and muscular stimulants. The chemical formula for .this reaction is
as follows:

Na,CA + CaCL =2NaCI + CaC204,
>fa2CA + < 'aS< >4 = Xa,S04 + Ca (',(),.

OJ

o
U

rt
o

s

a

rt

a
o

.a

o
o

M
03

CO

H

e

a
o

55

O

THE CAUSE OF PULSATION 487

Tims the sodium oxalate which foims in the sense-organs is simply
changed into ordinary table salt, which acts as a stimulus to produce
pulsation.

We can prove experimentally that this suffices to explain the phe-
nomenon of pulsation, for if we simply add from 1 to 5 parts of com-
mon salt to 1,000 parts of sea-water, we find that this slight excess
of salt acts as a powerful stimulant to the sense-organs, but produces
no pulsation if placed upon other parts of the jellyfish.

It thus appears that each sense-organ normally maintains a certain
excess of common salt which acts as a stimulus, and which is prevented
from becoming too concentrated by the fact that being soluble it is
constantly dissolving out into the surrounding sea-water.

It may trouble us for a moment to see why a recurrent pulsation
should arise from a constantly present stimulus, but long ago Romanes
discovered that a weak constantly present stimulus, such as a faradaic
current of electricity, will cause rhythmical pulsation, the jellyfish
responding to it periodically and regularly.

We see then that the natural stimulant which produces the pulsa-
tion of the jellyfish is only that most familiar substance common salt !

The hearts of higher animals behave in a manner so similar to that
of the pulsating jellyfish that we neecl not be surprised if it be demon-
strated that here also a slight excess of sodium chloride gives rise to
each and every pulsation.

4SS POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

A BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY OF BOTANY AT ST. LOUIS,

MISSOURI1

By Dr. PERLEY SPAULDING

LABORATORY OF FOREST PATHOLOGY, BUREAU OF PLANT INDUSTRY,
U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

THE history of botany in St. Louis extends back nearly to the be-
ginning of her political history. The city was founded in 1764,
and while it is not as old as most of the other large cities of this
country it seems to have been one of the earliest settlements made in
the great northwestern region, comprising what was once known as
Upper Louisiana. Boston, New York and Philadelphia were already
lar^e cities for that time and were centers of botanical activity. In
1795 when Michaux visited the Illinois Territory, Cahokia, Kaskaskia
and St. Louis were the principal places west of Vincennes and as late
as 1800 St. Louis had a population of less than 1,000. At about this
time the fur traders changed their headquarters from Cahokia and
Kaskaskia to St. Louis, causing a corresponding increase in population
and commercial influence of the latter town.

The Jesuit missionaries were the first white persons to visit the
Mississippi Valley and the adjoining country; they undoubtedly ex-
plored the Missouri Territory, but probably not so extensively as they
did the Illinois Territory. They were versed to some extent in the
art of medicine and knew the plants which were generally used for
medicinal purposes. They learned the uses of plants new to them-
selves from their Indian wards, and in this way they must have ob-
tained a considerable knowledge of the plants of the Missouri country.
How much farther they may have carried their botanical studies is
unknown to the writer. During the period between the founding of
St. Louis and the first visit of Michaux to Cahokia there were un-
doubtedly persons who studied the botany of the St. Louis district.
Whether they formed any collections of the plants is not now known
and there seems to be no records of any such study.

For all practical purposes Andre Michaux may be said to have
been the first botanist to work in the vicinity of St. Louis,

Botany has passed through a number of distinct periods at St.
Louis, as in other places; it can not be said to have had a "pharma-
ceutical " period, as that stage was nearly past in the general history
of the science when the city was founded. The medical properties of

1 Published by permission of the Secretary of Agriculture.

BOTANY AT ST. LOT IS 489

the plants of the eastern states and of Europe were already well known
at the close of the eighteenth century. Of course many new western
plants were discovered, the medical properties of which had to be deter-
mined; but this was not the main object in making a study of them.
We find three distinct periods of botanical work which include the
one hundred and thirteen years that have elapsed since Michaux's
visit. These may be designated as follows : First, exploration by botan-
ists on transient visits of a few days' to a few months' time; second,
collecting by persons who lived in or near St. Louis for a number of
years; third, modern botany as contrasted with the purely systematic
work of early days. These three periods overlap one another, but can
still be distinguished without difficulty. The first includes most of
the work done previously to 1850; the second began with the work of
Engelmaim and his numerous contemporary collector friends, who
relied upon him for assistance in naming their collections: it may even
be said to extend until the present time, as considerable work is still
being clone upon the local flora of the district; the third period may
be said to date from the founding of the Shaw School of Botany, and
the assumption of control of the Missouri Botanical Garden by the
board of trustees.

Andre Michaux, the great French botanist, who explored so ex-
tensively the territory of the thirteen original colonies as far west as
the Mississippi Biver, is the first botanical worker concerning whom
published records have yet been found as having worked in the vicinity
of St. Louis. Fie is known to have visited Kaskaskia and Cahokia,
and the evidence seems to indicate that he must have visited the west
shore of the Mississippi, since a few species are listed in his " Flora "
as coming from the Missouri Biver.

Andre Michaux2 was born at Satory, near Versailles, France, in
1746. He was destined by his father for the superintendence of a farm
of the royal estate, and early became interested in agriculture. Upon
the death of his young wife, at the birth of their son, Francois Andre,
he devoted himself to scientific studies, especially botany. He studied
botany under Bernard cle Jussieu, and sought in foreign lands for
strange plants. In 1779-81 he traveled in England, the Auvergne,
the Byrenees and Spain. In 1782-5 he was in Bersia in a political
capacity, but really to explore a country at that time almost unknown
to scientific men ; he intended to return to Bersia, but was requested in
1785, by the French government, to introduce into France such North

2 Hooker, W. J., Amer. Jour. Sci. and Arts, 1st series, 9: 266-269, 1825.
Gray, Asa, Ditto, 1 ser., 42: 2-9, 1842.
Coulter, J. L., Bot. Gaz., 8: 181-183, 1883.
Rusby, H. H., Bull. Torrey Bot. Club, 11: 88-90, 18S4.
Sargent, C. S., "Scientific Papers of Asa Gray," 2: 23-31, 1889.
Thwaites, R. G., "Early Western Travels," 3: 11-19, 27-104, 1904.

490 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

American trees as might be of economic importance. In the autumn
of 1785 he embarked for New York, accompanied by his young son;
here he spent a year and a half collecting plants and starting a botanical
garden in Bergen County, New Jersey; he found, however, that the
southern climate was more suitable for many of his plants, and he ac-
cordingly removed to Charleston, South Carolina, in 1787, where he
established another garden, about ten miles from the city. During this
year he explored the mountains of the Carolinas ; the next he journeyed
through the swamps of Florida, and the next he visited the Bahamas,
and again searched the mountains for plants of economic importance —
especially ginseng. In 1792 he collected around New York and in
New Jersey; thence he went up the Hudson to Albany and along Lake
Champlain, reaching Montreal June 30, 1792. From Montreal he
went to Quebec, and thence by way of the Saguenay to Hudson's Bay.
He then returned to Philadelphia, where he proposed to the American
Philosophical Society an exploration of the great western territory, by
way of the Missouri River. A subscription was begun for the purpose,
and Thomas Jefferson drafted detailed instructions for the journey.
Michaux, indeed, is stated to have started west and to have proceeded as
far as Kentucky when he was overtaken by an order from the French
government to relinquish the journey for a political mission. This
mission seems to have had for its object the control of Louisiana by the
French, through the aid of the trans-Allegheny Americans. In carry-
ing out this plan Michaux made a journey in 1793 to Kentucky by way
of the Ohio River, and returned over the "Wilderness" road, and
through the valley of Virginia. Early in 1791 he made another ex-
tensive tour in the southern states and the North Carolina mountains.
In 1795-6 he made a much longer journey, going from Charleston to
Tennessee, thence through Kentucky to Vincennes, Indiana, where he
stayed from August 13 to 23. From here he went to Kaskaskia, and
from there he visited Cahokia and the vicinity. Upon looking over his
" Flora Boreali Americana " we find several species of plants men-
tioned therein as coming from the Missouri River. It seems quite
probable then that he must have visited some locality near this river
during this trip, as this is the only visit to this section of which we
find any mention in his journal. He mentions St. Louis as being in a
prosperous condition, but makes no further allusion to it. Except for
the evidence of these few species as given in his " Flora," we should not
know that he had gone west of the Mississippi River, and this, of course,
is somewhat uncertain, as it is very possible that some person at Caho-
kia, who may have been on the Missouri River, had out of curiosity
picked up some strange plants and happened to bring them to Cahokia
at the time Michaux was there. He made a short visit here and then
Went to Fort Massac, near the mouth of the Tennessee River, and from

BOTANY AT ST. LOUIS 49 ^

there proceeded up the Cumberland Kiver by boat, as far as Clarksville ;
he then visited Nashville, Knoxville, Louisville, and Morganton, finally
arriving at Charleston again in April, 179G. During all of this time
he collected eagerly, and more or less extensively. His journals, how-
ever, give no indications of the species or the number of them found at
Cahokia. He seems to have found a considerable number at Kaskaskia,
at which place he spent most of his time while in Illinois. In his
" Flora " we find mentioned about 100 species as occurring in the Illi-
nois territory; this, however, at that time included all of the territory
north of the Ohio which was visited by Michaux. This seems to have
been his last extensive trip in America ; and in August, 1796, he em-
barked for Amsterdam and was shipwrecked on the coast of Holland.
He is said to have been nearly drowned himself, and a large part of
his collections were lost. He remained in France for several years,
studjdng his collections and preparing the manuscript for his " Flora."
In 1800 he joined an expedition to Australia, but, becoming disgusted
with the management, he landed on the Island of Mauritius, but from
there he soon went to Madagascar; here he established a botanical gar-
den and began collecting extensively; but he soon fell victim to the un-
healthy climate, and died on November 13, 1802.

Michaux probably traveled more extensively in North America than
any other early botanist. He was the author of numberless new species
and many new genera of American plants. Unfortunately, the genus,
Michauxia, which commemorates his name, is one discovered by himself
in Persia; so that his name is not thus associated with North American
botany, which was so greatly advanced by his studies and explorations.

Immediately following the exposition held at St. Louis in commem-
oration of the purchase of Louisiana from France, there was held
another exposition upon the Pacific coast to celebrate the centennial of
the arrival of the Lewis and Clark expedition at the mouth of the Co-
lumbia River. This expedition was the first to penetrate overland to the
Pacific coast and the results of its successful termination were of im-
mense importance to the entire northwestern country. The journals of
the expedition contain many references to plants seen, and especially to
those which were peculiar or interesting, or which were used by the
Indians.

In the previously mentioned attempt at the exploration of the north-
west country, Michaux was to accompany the party. In the expedition
which finally did make the journey there was no person who could be
called a botanist. Although Captain Lewis was a very keen and ob-
servant man, he could not overcome his lack of botanical training, and
the results in this regard were hardly what they would have been had
Michaux been with the expedition. The journey up the Missouri Eiver
was made in boats manned with oars and, owing to the rapid current of

492

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the river, progress was slow, thus affording opportunity for a consider-
able amount of collecting to be done. During the ascent of the river
quite an extensive collection of plants was made, but this had to be left
behind when the Rocky Mountains were crossed, and was consequently
lost. During the much more hurried return of the expedition another
collection was made, but it was much smaller than the first, and compar-
atively few species seem to have been collected about St. Louis. While
this expedition did but little for St. Louis botany directly, it turned
the public attention to this section, and finally led to careful botanical
exploration by a number of capable botanists a few years later.

Captain Meriwether Lewis3 was born near the town of Charlottes-
ville, Virginia, on August 18, 1774. His family was one of the most

Fig. 1. Captain Meriwether Lewis ; from Analectic Magazine
and Naval Chronicle, Vol. 7, 1816.

distinguished of that state. Several of bis uncles were very prominent
in their time, one of them having married a sister of George Washing-

3 Jefferson, Thomas, '"Biography of Capt. Lewis in Analectic Magazine and
Naval Chronicle," 7: 329-333, 1816.

Allen, Paul, " History of the Expedition under the Command of Captains
Lewis and Clark," etc., 1814, reprint by New Amsterdam Book Company.

BOTANY AT ST. LOUIS 493

ton. Meriwether lost his father early in life, and one of his uncles
acted as his guardian. At the age of thirteen he was sent to the Latin
school, where he remained until he was eighteen, when he returned
home to help run the farm. At the age of twenty he entered as a vol-
unteer a body of militia which was called out by General Washington
to quell troubles in the western states, and from the militia he entered
the regular service as a lieutenant. When twentv-three vears old he
was promoted to a captaincy and made paymaster of his regiment.
He was personally well known to Thomas Jefferson, and when the
latter proposed that two persons should be sent up the Missouri River,
across the Rockies and down the Columbia to the Pacific Ocean, he
eagerly offered to go. A few years later Jefferson, remembering the
eagerness of Captain Lewis to make the trip, made him leader of the
expedition, which successfully carried out the plans, and is now known
as the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Captain Clark was made the leader
in the absence of Lewis. The expedition started in 1803 and returned
in 1806. Congress gave both leaders grants of land, and Lewis was
made governor of the territory of Louisiana, while Clark was made a
general of militia and agent for Indian affairs. Upon assuming his
duties as governor, Lewis found many factions and parties, but his
even-handed justice to all soon established respect for himself, and
eventually removed animosities. While on a trip to Washington he
suffered a temporary attack of insanity, and committed suicide on Oc-
tober 11, 1809.

Pursh has named a genus of the Portulacacea\ Leivisia, in his honor.

During the early part of the nineteenth century it was much the
fashion for botanists to collect living plants and cultivate them in
gardens, these gardens sometimes being quite extensive. Sometimes
they were but temporary resting places for the plants until they could be
sent to European countries as novelties to be introduced there because
of some desirable quality. Andre Michaux had such gardens into
which he gathered his plants, and when opportunity offered sent them
to France. Many of our early botanists had their own gardens in which
they cultivated all of the different plants they could find, and thus be-
came acquainted with every detail concerning them. The Bartram and
Marshall gardens near Philadelphia were good examples of these early
collections of living plants.

Among many persons sent from Europe to this country for the pur-
pose of collecting new and rare plants was one John Bradbury,4 who
was commissioned to act as the agent of the Liverpool Botanical So-

4 Bradbury, John, " Travels in the Interior of America in the Years 1809,
1810 and 1811," 1-346, 1819, 2d edition.

Short, C. W., Transylvania Jour, of Med., etc., 34: 12-13, 1836.

Britten, Jas., and Boulger, G. S., " Biographical Index of British and
Irish Botanists," 21, 1893.

494 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ciety. Comparatively little seems to be known about Bradbury. He
was a Scotchman who had lived for a long time in England, when he
received his commission from the Liverpool Botanical Society in 1809.
Upon arriving in this country, Bradbury spent -everal days at the house
of Thomas Jefferson, so that the latter became acquainted with him and
his abilities. Jefferson spoke highly of him as a naturalist, and Short,
a later writer, mentions him as " an English gentleman of very re-
spectable attainments as a naturalist." In the light of our present
knowledge he seems to have fully deserved such an estimation, as he
discovered a considerable number of new species as well as a new genus
of plants during his travels in the Missouri country. Indeed, several
of our more characteristic species bear his name, and in later years he
was honored by Torrey and Gray, who named a new genus Bradburia,
in commemoration of his services in exploring our western flora.

Mr. Bradbury at first intended to make New Orleans his center of
operations, but following the advice of Jefferson he changed that in-
tention and came to St. Louis instead. He descended the Ohio Eiver
by boat, making such observations and collections as he could at the vari-
ous stopping places, arriving at St. Louis on the last day of the year 1809.
The entire season of 1810 was spent about St. Louis, making short ex-
cursions of not more than eighty or one hundred miles distance in
all directions, and he accumulated a considerable collection of plants
which were sent to Liverpool the succeeding autumn. No definite data
can now be obtained as to the number of species contained in these col-
lections, as Bradbury never published a complete list of them, although
he did give a list of the rare and more interesting plants in his journal,
which was published after his return to England.

Early in the spring of 1811 Bradbury, accompanied by a young and
zealous botanist named Thomas Nuttall, joined a fur-trading expedi-
tion, and with them ascended the Missouri Eiver as far as the Mandan
villages, not far from the site of the present town of Bismarck, North
Dakota. Upon reaching this point the expedition divided and part of
it, including Bradbury, returned to St. Louis. The others went on still
farther, and Nuttall remained with them until their return to St. Louis
some months later. This voyage was made in a steamer, and progress
was necessarily slow while going up the river, so that our naturalists
had ample time and opportunity for collecting. A collection even
larger than that which had been made around St. Louis is said to have
been accumulated.

Before Bradbury had finished his preparations for departure to
England, the war of 1812 broke out, and he remained for several years
in this country until the close of hostilities. He finally reached Liver-
pool in 1815, and found that during his long absence his plants had been
inspected by Pursh, who was at that time in England preparing the

BOTANY AT ST. LOUIS 495

manuscript for his " Flora Americans Septentrionalis." Pursh pub-
lished the most interesting of these plants in an appendix to his work,
and this seems to have discouraged Bradbury from publishing as ex-
tensively upon them as he probably would have otherwise done. In
1817 Bradbury published his journal of travels on the Missouri in the
years 1809-10-11, and in an appendix to this gave a list of the rare
and most interesting plants of his collections. He did not, however,
issue a complete list, and so far as now known no such list has ever
been published. The second edition of his travels was issued in 1819,
and in the editor's preface it is stated that Mr. Bradbury had already
returned to St. Louis and taken up his residence there. Baldwin, who
passed through St. Louis in 1819 with the Long expedition, mentions
meeting Mr. Bradbury there at that time. His name is given in the
St. Louis city directory for 1821,5 but no definite information regard-
ing him after this date has yet been found.

During the early part of the nineteenth century it was the policy
of the national government to send expeditions of a military character
to explore the unknown sections of the western country. Shortly after
Bradbury made his tour of the Missouri, an expedition was fitted out
and placed under the command of Major S. H. Long. This was in-
tended to make more complete and detailed exploration of the Missouri
and its main tributaries, and to make more accurate scientific observa-
tions of the country passed through. The necessity of having com-
petent scientific men accompany the expedition was recognized, and
several such men were appointed for the purpose.

The botanist of the expedition was Dr. William Baldwin.6 He was
a son of a minister of the. Friends in Pennsylvania, being born in New-
lin, Chester County, in 1779. He studied medicine at the University
of Pennsylvania and took his degree in 1807. Meanwhile he had be-
come interested in the study of botany, and upon settling in Wilming-
ton, Delaware, to commerce practising his profession, he collected ex-
tensively in the vicinity. Pulmonary weakness forced him to remove to
Georgia in 1811, where he served as surgeon to a gunboat flotilla during
the war of 1812. He kept up his collecting and study of the plants
of this new region, and because of his ability as a botanist he received
an appointment as surgeon to the U. S. frigate Congress, during a
cruise to various South American ports. Baldwin made extensive col-
lections and notes wherever opportunity offered, and he returned with a

5 Learned by the aid of the St. Louis Historical Society.
« Thwaites, R. G., " Early Western Travels," Vol. 14.

Darlington, William, " Reliquiae Baldwinianse," 1-346, 1843.

Redfield, John, Bot. Gctz., 8: 233-237, 1883.

Harshberger, J. W., "Botanists of Philadelphia," 119-125, 1899.

496

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

very considerable amount of valuable material. About this time the
Long expedition was being organized, and Baldwin was recommended
to act as botanist for the party. His health was delicate and the ap-
pointment was accepted in the hopes that it would be improved by the
journey.

Baldwin joined the other members of the scientific staff at Pittsburg
and embarked upon the steamer which was to take the expedition to
Council Bluffs. This being the early days of steamboating, the one
used by the expedition gave more than ordinary trouble and caused

Fig. 2. Dr. William Baldwin; from Darlington's "Reliquiae Baldwinianse.'

vexatious delays. According to the letters of Baldwin it also leaked
continually, and this made the interior damp and totally unsuited for
such a prolonged voyage. Baldwin's health constantly grew worse, and
even while descending the Ohio River the party halted to allow him to
recover from an attack of illness, and he was forced to depend upon the
others to bring specimens to him on the boat, as he had not sufficient
strength to walk any considerable distance. St. Louis was finally
reached on June 9 and a stop of several days was made. The voyage

BOTANY AT ST. LOUIS 497

was resumed on the twenty-first, and on July 13 they reached Franklin,
then the uppermost town of any importance on the Missouri. Here
Baldwin was left behind at the house of Dr. Lowry, where he remained
until his death on August 31. During his stay in Franklin Baldwin
botanized as much as his limited strength would permit, and entries
were made in his diary as late as August 8, the date of the last entry.
A list of plants found around Franklin by him during this time attests
the earnestness with which he pursued his beloved science. The
journals of the expedition show that he collected about one hundred
species in the vicinity of St. Louis and on the Missouri to Franklin.

His companions all unite in praise of his devotion to science and his
persistence under such extremely trying circumstances. Notwithstand-
ing his extensive travels and his earnest study of the botany of several
different sections of this country and of South America, he published
but little. Two shorf articles, presented for publication just before
starting with the expedition, are all that are known to have been pub-
lished by him. He left numerous manuscripts and notes which have
aided Torrey and Gray in their work on the flora of America. His her-
barium was extensive and very valuable, and has contributed much to
the works of Pursh and Nuttall. Baldwin also contributed to Muhlen-
berg's catalogue, and he maintained an active correspondence with many
of the foremost botanists of his day. Nuttall has honored him by
naming a genus of the Compositae Baldwiniana, and has thus connected
him in a most permanent manner with that science to which he so
earnestly devoted himself.

The Long expedition proceeded and on September 17 went into
winter quarters near Council Bluffs. Major Long meanwhile went east,
and on his return brought with him Dr. Edwin James, who had been
appointed to take the place of Dr. Baldwin.

Edwin James7 was born in Weybridge, Vermont, on August 27,
1797. Edwin was the youngest son of Deacon Daniel James, who was
a native of Ehode Island, and had moved to Vermont at the beginning
of the Eevolution. In youth he was very industrious and applied him-
self to his studies with perseverance. His education was obtained at
the district school, and later he attended Middlebury College, where he
graduated in 1816. Subsequently he studied medicine with his elder
brother in Albany, New York, for three years. During this time he
became interested in botany and the natural sciences, which were then
being taught by Professor Amos Eaton. Upon the recommendations of
Captain Lewis Le Conte and Dr. John Torrey he was appointed to the
place left vacant by the death of Dr. Baldwin. The trip with Major

TThwaites, R. G., "Early Western Travels," Vol. 15.
Parry, C. C, Amer. Jour. Sci. and Arts, 2d series, 33 : 428-430, 1862.
Sargent, C. S., " Silva of North America," 2: 96, 1891.

vol. Lxxm. — 32.

498 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Long was a hurried one, although it was made overland from St. Louis
to Council Bluffs and but few plants were collected near St. Louis.
James remained with the expedition until its close. His efficient labors
are proved by the subsequent publications founded upon his observations
and collections. The present Pikes Peak was first named James's Peak,
by Major Long, but for some unexplained reason the earlier name has
not remained in use.

The next two years after the return of the expedition were spent in
compiling his results, which were published in 1825, and were of much
historical and scientific value. During the next six or seven years he
served as a surgeon in the regular army at extreme frontier posts, and
here he studied the Indian languages and translated the New Testa-
ment into the Ojibwe tongue. He also published a biography of John
Tanner, a man who was captured by the Indians while a child, and was
brought up by them. When the medical department of the army was
reorganized he resigned and returned to Albany, where he was associate
editor of a temperance periodical. Upon leaving this he went west and
settled near Burlington, Iowa, where he spent the last days of his life
in agricultural pursuits. On October 25, 1861, he was run over by a
wagon and injured so seriously that he died three days later.

The genus Jamesia, of the Saxifrage family, was named in his honor
by Torrey and Gray.

The results of the exploring expeditions seem to have directed at-
tention to the Missouri country, so that a number of men of ability
came to that section and made botanical explorations of greater or less
extent. Before the Long expedition had finished its work an amateur
botanist, Dr. Lewis C. Beck, was collecting about St. Louis.

Dr. Lewis Caleb Beck8 was born in Schenectady, New York, on
October 4, 1798. In 1817 he graduated at Union College; he then
studied medicine and began to practise at Schenectady in 1818. He
moved to St. Louis in 1820 and lived here until 1822. During this
time he collected quite extensively and later published a list of his col-
lections. His introductory note is self-explanatory and is as follows :

During my residence in Missouri, in the years 1820, 1821 and 1822, a por-
tion of my time was occupied in the investigation of the vegetable productions
of that and the adjoining state. Upon my return I was so fortunate as to
receive, uninjured, the collections which I had made.

Until the present season (1826), however, I have not had leisure to examine
them with the necessary attention, and to revise my notes upon the recent
plants. This work I have now commenced, and submit to you the first part,

"Appleton's "Cyclopedia of American Biography," 1: 213, 1887.
Anonymous, Amer. Jour. Sci. and Arts, 2d series, 16: 149, 1853.
March, Dr. Alden, Gross's "Amer. Med. Biography," 679-696, 1861.
Beck, L. C, Amer. Jour. Sci. and Arts, 10: 257-264, 1826; 11: 167-182,
1827; 14: 112-121, 1828.

BOTANY AT ST. LOUIS 499

for publication in your valuable journal. Those species which are presented as
new are minutely described, and in all cases where the western specimens of
known plants differ from the eastern, this difference is stated. By this means
we shall become acquainted with, at least, some of the peculiarities in the
vegetation of that interesting section of the United States. Concerning the
more common plants, the habitats and times of flowering only are mentioned.
The catalogue, it is hoped will contribute somewhat to increase our stock of
knowledge, and will be particularly interesting to geographical botanists, and
to future waiters upon the botany of the United States.

This annotated list, which was continued in three volumes of Silli-
mans Journal, mentions about two hundred species of plants, and is
the earliest extensive list known to the writer. Many of Beck's plants
are cited in BiddelPs " Synopsis of the Flora of the Western States,"
published in 1835, but apparently only a portion of them are so men-
tioned.

In 1822 Beck moved back to Albany and remained there the rest of
his life. He held positions as professor of botany and other sciences at
a number of institutions up to the time of his death; Bensselaer Poly-
technic Institute, Eutgers College and Albany Medical College being
those with which he was most prominently connected. Dr. Beck was
well known in botanical circles, being the author of a manual of the
botany of the northern and middle states, 6f which two editions were
issued. He also published a number of botanical papers. He was a
well-known writer on chemical and medical subjects besides; and
published a manual of chemistry which passed through four editions.
He seems to have been a conservative writer, as his bibliography con-
tains but twenty-three titles. Dr. Beck died at Albany on April 20,
1853.

After Beck closed his work in the vicinity of St. Louis there seems
to have been a period of nearly ten years when there was no botanical
work done. In 1831, however, there began a period of activity which
has continued more or less regularly up to the present time. The first
botanist to start this activity was Thomas Drummond.

(To be continued)

5oo POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE APPLICATION OF ZOOLOGICAL LAWS TO MAN1

By Pbofbssok WILLIAM RIDGEWAY, M.A., F.B.A., Lit.D., LL.D.

THIKTY years ago in this very city I heard for the first time a
presidential address at the British Association, and I was singu-
larly fortunate in entering on my novitiate. I had the privilege of
hearing Professor Huxley deliver his presidential address to the
embryo of that section over which I, a very unworthy successor, have
this day the honor to preside. On that occasion Huxley dealt almost
exclusively with the physical evolution of man, and the Neanderthal
skull played an important part in his discourse. The anthropologists
of that day and since have severely criticized, and rightly so, the old
teleological doctrine that everything except man himself had been
created for man's use, and they emphatically enunciated the doctrine
that man himself has been evolved under the same laws as every other
animal. Yet the anthropologists themselves have not always carried
out in practise their own principles to their logical conclusions. To-
day I shall attempt to show that the chief errors which impede the
scientific study of man, which lead to the maladministration of alien
races, and which beget blunders of the gravest issue in our own social
legislation, are due in the main to man's pride in shutting his eyes to
the fact that he is controlled by the same laws as the rest of the animal
kingdom.

I. Let us first consider some of the chief problems which at present
are being debated by the physical anthropologists. Foremost in im-
portance of these is the stratification of populations in Europe. It has
generally been held as an article of faith that Europe was first peopled
by a non-Aryan race. Of course it is impossible for us to say what
were the physical characteristics of paleolithic man, but when we come
to neolithic man the problem becomes less hopeless. It has been gen-
erally held that the first neolithic men in Europe, whether they were
descended or not from their paleolithic predecessors, had long skulls,
but were not Aryan; that later on a migration of short-skulled people
from Asia passed along central Europe and into France, becoming
what is commonly termed the Alpine, by some the Ligurian, by others
the Celtic race; that later these two primitive non-Aryan races were
overrun by the Aryans, who, when these theories were first started,
were universally considered to have come from the Hindu Kush, but

1 Address of the president of the Anthropological Section of the British
Association for the Advancement of Science, Dublin, 1908.

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 501

are now generally believed, as held by Latham, to have originated in
upper central Europe. Yet, although the view respecting the cradle
of the Aryans has changed, anthropologists have not seen the important
bearing that it has upon the problem of neolithic man. The Aryans
are generally held to have had a blond complexion.

As our discussion must from its nature concern itself with questions
of race, let us first examine the criteria by which anthropologists dis-
tinguish one race from another. If you ask an anthropologist how he
distinguishes an Aryan from a non-Aryan race, he will tell you that
he relies on three main tests: (a) the color of the skin, hair and eyes;
(&) the shape of the skull and certain other osteological characteristics;
and (c) the system of descent through males. Formerly language was
included in the tests of race, but when it was pointed out that the
Negroes of Jamaica speak English, those of Louisiana French, hence-
forward it was assumed that one race can embrace the language of
another with the greatest ease. Yet it may turn out, after all, that
language was too hastily expelled from the criteria of race. On the
other hand, we may find that too implicit faith has been placed on the
three criteria of cranial characteristics, pigmentation and law of suc-
cession.

(a) As it is assumed that all Aryans were blond and traced descent
through males, so it is held that all Europeans, who are dark-com-
plexioned, and whose forefathers traced descent through women, are
non-Aryan in race, and that, although they now in almost every case
speak an Aryan tongue, this is not their primitive speech, but simply
that learned from their Aryan conquerors. According to this orthodox
view, the dark-skinned inhabitants of Italy, Spain and Greece are all
non-Aryan, and all have borrowed the language of their masters,
whilst, of course, the same is held respecting the melanochrous popula-
tion of France and of the British Isles. Ever since Professor Sergi
comprehended under what he terms the " Eurafrican species " all the
dark-complexioned peoples of southern and western Europe, as well as
the Semitic and Hamitic peoples of western Asia and northern Africa,
the doctrine that the dark-skinned peoples of Europe once spoke a
non-Aryan tongue or tongues is supposed to have been finally estab-
lished. But under his Eurafrican species Sergi includes the blond
race of northern Europe who speak Aryan languages along with the
dark races who speak non-Aryan tongues. It is argued that as all
the dark-skinned peoples on the north side of the Mediterranean belong
by their physical type to the same original stock as the Semites and
Hamites, they must likewise have spoken non-Aryan languages. Yet
it might as well be maintained that the Finns, who speak a non-Aryan
tongue, and the Scandinavians, who speak an Aryan, were originally all
of one stock, because both races are blond.

5Q2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

This doctrine of a Mediterranean race depends upon the tacit as-
sumption made by the physical anthropologists that identity or simi-
larity of type means identity of race. Yet this assumption does not
bear the test of scientific examination, for it assumes that only those
who are sprung from a common stock can be similar in physical struc-
ture, and coloration, and it leaves altogether out of sight the effects of
environment in changing racial types, and that, too, in no long time.
The change in the type of the American of New England from that of
his English ancestor and his approximation to the hatchet face and
thin scraggy beard of the Eed Indian have long been remarked, whilst
the Boers of South Africa, in less than 150 years, have quite lost the
old Dutch build, and become a tall weedy race. The effects of climatic
conditions are very patent amongst the native peoples of the New
World. The Iroquois of the temperate parts (lat. 40°-45°) of North
America were a tall, rather light-complexioned race, but as we keep
moving south and approach the equator, their kindred tribes grow
somewhat darker in complexion and more feeble in physique, except
where they live at a considerable altitude, for of course altitude acts in
the same way as latitude. When once we pass below the equator the
physique keeps steadily improving until we come to the Pampas In-
dians, a vigorous race who defied all the efforts of the Spaniards to
subdue them; and finally we meet the Patagonians (lat. 40°-53°), a
fine, tall, light-complexioned race, who form in the south the counter-
part of the Iroquois and their closely allied tribes in the north.

The same law, as is well known, can be seen at work in Europe.
Starting from the Mediterranean, we meet in the lower parts a melan-
ochrous race; but gradually, as we advance upwards, the population as
a whole is growing less dark, until finally, along the shores of the
Baltic, we meet the tallest and most light-complexioned race in the
world. Of course it has been explained that the change in pigmenta-
tion, as we advance from south to north, is due to the varying propor-
tions in the admixture of the blond race of the north with the melan-
ochrous of the south. But it is difficult to believe that the movements
up or down of the people from the southern side of the Alps, or of
those from the shores of the Baltic, have been so nicely proportioned
as to give the general steady change from north to south in coloration
without the aid of some other force. The case of America, which I
have just cited, is in itself enough to raise a suspicion that climatic
influences are at work all the time, and that environment is in reality
the chief factor in the variation of both stature and pigmentation from
the Mediterranean to the Baltic. The white race of the north is of
the same proximate ancestry as the dark-complexioned peoples of the
northern shores of the Mediterranean. I have already argued else-
where that, as the ice-sheet receded, mankind kept pressing farther

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 5°3

north, and gradually under changed climatic conditions the type
changed from area to area, and they all still continued to speak the
same Indo-European tongue, but with dialectic variations, these also
being no doubt due to the physical changes in the vocal organs pro-
duced by environment.

If we turn from man to the other animals we find a complete
demonstration of this doctrine. For instance, the conditions which
have produced a blond race on the Baltic have probably produced the
white hare, white bears, and the tendency in the stoat and the ptarmi-
gan to turn white in winter, whilst in the same regions of Europe and
Asia the indigenous horses were of a dun color, who not only turned
white in winter, but had a great tendency to turn white altogether. It
may be objected that the Lapps and Eskimo are not tall and blond,
but, on the contrary, short and dark; but they live within the arctic
circle in regions where the sun does not shine at all for a great part of the
year, and consequently they are quite outside the conditions of environ-
ment under which the tall blond race of North Germany has long
dwelt. Of course, in dealing with man we are always confronted with
the difficulties arising from his migrations ; but if we can find a family
of lower animals who can not be said to have thus migrated, and who
show the effects of environment, we shall be able to argue powerfully
from analogy.

The horse family supplies the example required. If we follow it
from northern Asia to the Cape of Good Hope, we shall find that every
belt has its own particular type, changes in osteology as well as in
coloration taking place from region to region. First we meet the old
dun horse, with its tendency to become white, the best European
examples of which were probably the now extinct ponies of the Lofoden
Isles. In Asia, Prejvalsky's horse is the best living instance — a dun-
colored animal with little trace of stripes. Bordering on the Prej-
valsky horse, or true tarpan, come the Asiatic asses : first the dzeggetai
of Mongolia, a fawn-colored animal, the under parts being Isabella-
colored ; then comes the kiang of the Upper Indus Valley, seldom found
at a lower altitude than 10,000 feet, rufous brown with white under
parts, whilst, as might be expected from its mountain habitat, its hind
quarters are much more developed in length and strength than in the
asses of the plains. The Onager indicus, onager and hemippus are
found in all the great plains of the Punjab, Afghanistan, western
India, Baluchistan, Persia and Syria, whilst a few are said to survive
in South Arabia. All these are lighter in color than the kiang, the
typical onager being a white animal with yellow blotches on the side,
neck and head. All the Asiatic asses are distinguished by the absence
of any shoulder stripe, though they occasionally show traces of stripes
on the lower parts of the legs. The southern Asiatic asses just de-

5o4 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

scribed in their grayer color and smaller hoofs approximate to the wild
asses of Africa, especially to those of Somaliland, whilst it is main-
tained that in their cry, as well as in their color, the kiang and dzeggetai
come closer to the horse, whose next neighbors they are.

Passing to Africa, we find the ass of Nubia and Abyssinia showing a
shoulder stripe, and frequently with very strongly defined narrow
stripes on the legs, the ears being longer than those of the onager.
But in closer proximity to southwestern Asia comes the Somali ass,
which differs from those of Nubia and Abyssinia by being grayer in
color, by the entire absence of shoulder stripes and by smaller ears, in
all which characteristics it comes closer to its neighbors on the Asiatic
side than it does to its relations in Abyssinia and Nubia.

Next we meet the zebras. First comes the magnificent Grevy zebra
of Somaliland, Shoa and British East Africa. It is completely striped
down to its hoofs, but the coloration of the specimens from Shoa
differs from that of those from Somaliland, and from those of British
East Africa. The Grevy zebra has its hoofs rounded in front like
those of a horse, but its ears are more like its neighbors, the asses, than
those of any other zebra.

In the region north of the river Tana the Burchelline group of
zebras overlaps the Grevy, and though it differs essentially in form,
habits and shape of its hoofs from the Grevy, some of those in the
neighborhood of Lake Barringo show gridiron markings on the croup
like those on the Grevy zebra, whilst, like the latter, they also possess
functional premolars.

All the zebras of the equatorial regions are striped to the hoofs, but
when we reach the Transvaal, the Burchelline zebra, known as Chap-
man's, is divesting itself of stripes on its legs, whilst the ground color
is getting less white and the stripes less black. Farther south the true
Burchell zebra of the Orange Eiver has completely lost the stripes on
its legs and under surface, its general coloring being a pale yellowish
brown, the stripes being dark brown or nearly black. South of the
Orange Eiver the now extinct quagga of Cape Colony had not only
begun to lose the stripes of its under part and on the hind quarters,
but in Daniell's specimen they only survived on the neck as far as the
withers, the animal having its upper surface bay and a tail like that
of a horse, whilst all specimens of quagga show a rounded hoof like
that of a horse.

In the quagga of 30°-32° S. we have practically a bay horse cor-
responding to the bay Libyan horse of lat. 30°-32° N.

But the production of such variations in color do not require great
differences in latitude. On the contrary, from a study of a series of
skins of zebras shot for me in British East Africa, each of which is
from a known locality and from a known altitude, there can be no

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 505

doubt that such variations in color are found from district to district
within a comparatively small area.

In addition to the two species of zebra already mentioned, there is
the mountain zebra, formerly extremely common in the mountainous
parts of Cape Colony and Natal, though now nearly extinct in that
area. Its hind legs, as might naturally have been expected from its
habitat, are more developed than those of the other zebras, just as these
same limbs are also more developed in the kiang of the Himalayas than
in any other ass.

With these facts before us, there can be no doubt that environment
is a most potent factor not only in coloration, but also in osteology.
No less certain is it that environment is capable of producing changes
in animal types with great rapidity. Thus, although it is an historical
fact that there were no horses in Java in 1346, and it is known that the
ponies now there are descended from those brought in by the Arabs,
yet within five centuries there has arisen a race of ponies (often
striped) some of which are not more than two feet high. Darwin
himself has given other examples of the rapid change in structure of
horses when transferred from one environment to another, as, for in-
stance, when Pampas horses are brought up into the Andes.

Another good example is that of the now familiar Basuto ponies.
Up to 1846 the Basutos did not possess a single horse, those of them
who went down and worked for the Boers of the Orange River usually
taking their pay in cattle. At the date mentioned some of them began
to take horses instead. These horses were of the ordinary mixed
colonial kinds, and we may be sure that the Boers did not let the
Basutos have picked specimens. The Basutos turned these horses out
on their mountains, where, living under perfectly natural conditions,
their posterity within less than forty years had settled down into a well-
defined type of mountain pony.

Nor is it only in the horse family that we meet with examples of the
force of environment. The tiger extends from the Indian Ocean,
through China up to Corea, but the tiger of Corea is a very different
animal from that of Bengal. Instead of the short hair of the Indian
tiger the Corean has clothed himself with a robe of dense long fur to
withstand the rigors of the north. It is not unlikely that if we had a
sufficient number of skins from known localities we could trace the
change in the tiger from latitude to latitude, just as I have shown in
the case of the Equidas.

Now whilst there is certainly a general physical type common to all
the peoples round the Mediterranean, it by no means follows that all
those peoples are from the same original stock. On the contrary, the
analogy from man in other parts of the world, as well as that of the
Eqnidse, suggests that the resemblance between the Berbers, who speak

So6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Hamitie, the Greeks, who speak Aryan, and the Jews and Arabs, who
spoke Semitic, is simply due to the fact that those peoples, from having
long dwelt under practically similar conditions in the Mediterranean
basin, have gradually acquired that physical similarity which has led
Sergi to the assumption that they have a proximate common ancestry,
and that they accordingly form but a single race.

Nor is there any lack of instances of convergence of type under
similar conditions in the case of the lower animals. We saw that the
asses of southwestern Asia approximate in color to the asses of north-
east Africa, and in respect of the size of the ears and absence of
shoulder stripe, more especially to the nearest of these, the ass of
Somaliland. Yet it does not follow that they are more closely related
to the Somali ass than they are to their own next neighbors, the kiang.
On the contrary, it is much more likely that the Somali ass is closely
related to those of Abyssinia, and that the southwestern Asiatic asses
are closely related to the kiang. The approximation in color, absence
of shoulder stripe and size of the ears between the asses of Somaliland
and those of southwestern Asia must rather be explained by a con-
vergence of types under the somewhat similar climatic conditions of
Somaliland and the nearest parts of southwestern Asia. Again,
though there are very strong, specific differences between the Grevy
and Burchelline zebras met in the neighborhood of Lake Barringo,
there is a curious approximation, not only in marking, but also in the
teeth between these two species, which is best accounted for by suppos-
ing that it is the outcome of similar environment. It may be said
that this approximation may be due to the interbreeding of the two
species of zebras in the region where they overlap. This, in itself a
most unlikely contingency from all that is known of the habits of wild
species, certainly can not be alleged in the case of the convergence in
type between the asses of southwestern Asia and the Somali ass, since
they are separated by the Ked Sea and the Persian Gulf.

Again, the representative of the crocodile family in the Ganges is
distinguished by the extreme elongation of the head and jaws, whilst
the same elongation of the head is equally characteristic of the repre-
sentative of the dolphin family found in the same waters. Again, all
through the Indian Ocean wherever any family of crabs have become
inhabitants of coralline sands its members have long legs. Again, it
has long been noticed that in Cutch all the larger animals have a
tendency to become a sandy color, whilst in certain areas of South
America insects, no matter to what family they belong, have a tendency
to one common aspect.

It may, of course, be said that the changes in color of the horse
family, tigers and insects are for " protective " reasons. But the
case of the horse family alone is sufficient to dispose of this objection.

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 507

The kiang of the Himalaya had no dangerous enemy until man was
armed with a rifle. In Africa the zebras have had only two formidable
foes — man and the lion. It is asserted by the most experienced hunters
that the gaudy livery of the zebra makes him conspicuous from afar,
whether he is on the mountain, on the plain or in the shade of a tree.
His brilliant color, therefore, really exposes him to man. But it will
be said that it is well adapted to conceal him at night, at which time
the lion seeks his prey. Yet as the best authorities hold that the
lion hunts entirely by scent, the coloration of the zebra affords him no
protection against his inveterate foe.

I have shown that in horses the colors — such as bay, black, gray and
white — accompany certain well-defined inward qualities. But as black
is most certainly not a primitive horse color, it follows that coat colors
may be intimately connected with certain other characteristics quite
irrespective of protective coloring. Again, as the variation in the size
and shape of the ears and hoofs of the asses and zebras can not be set
down to protective coloring, but must be due to other causes, there is
no reason why variations in color should not be ascribed to similar
causes.

The argument based on the analogy of the horse family and the
tigers, and on that of the natives of the New World, may be applied
to the races of Africa. Next to the Mediterranean lie the Berbers and
their Hamitic congeners, who are regarded as part of the Eurafrican
species by Sergi and his school. But the Berbers are not all of the
typical Mediterranean physique. The blond Berbers of the highlands
of Eif in Northwest Morocco and of the Atlas have long been well
known. In the region lower down and in western Tunis the occur-
rence of the xanthochrous type seems much less frequent, whilst farther
east it practically disappears.

It is certain that there was a fair-haired element in Libya long
before Home conquered Carthage or the Vandals had passed into the
ken of history. Callimachus testifies to the existence of blond Berbers
in the third century B.C. We may hold, then, with Sergi and others
that the blond element in the Berbers is not a survival from invasions
of Vandals or Goths, or from Eoman colonists, but that they rather
owe their fair complexions and light-colored eyes to the circumstance
that they were cradled in a cool mountainous region, and not along the
low-lying border of the Mediterranean like their dark-colored relations
whose language and customs they share.

If, then, some of those who speak Hamitic are fair, and have been
fair for centuries before Christ, as Sergi himself admits, whilst others
are dark, there is no reason why some of the peoples who speak Aryan
might not be dark whilst others are blond.

The Berbers and their Hamitic congeners shade off on the south

508 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

into other peoples, but this is not altogether due to intermarriage, as is
commonly held, for it is more probably to be explained as due in a
large part to climatic conditions. The Bantus, who are said to have
originated in the Galla country and to have spread thence, are now
regarded by the chief authorities as the result of an intermixture of
Hamites and Negroes. But, on the grounds I have already stated, it
is more rational to regard them as having been evolved in the area
lying between the Hamitic peoples on the north and the Negroes on the
south, just as we have corresponding types of the horse family in
Nubia and Abyssinia and in the equatorial regions. The same hy-
pothesis also explains the existence of those cattle-keeping tribes which
lie west of the Nile, stretching across northern Nigeria, who border on
the Berbers, but yet differ from them, and border also on the Negroes,
but differ from them likewise. South of these tribes come the Negroes,
the true children of the equator. The Bantu is able to live in elevated
equatorial areas, and he has burst his way down to the subtropical and
temperate parts of South Africa, where he especially flourishes in the
highlands, thus showing that his race was originally evolved under
similar conditions. The Bantu found in the south the Hottentots,
who are especially distinguished by steatopygy, a feature which has led
some to identify them with the primitive steatopygous race supposed to
have once lived in southern Europe, Malta and North Africa, and to
have left evidence of their characteristic in their representations of
themselves. But, granting that such a race once lived in North Africa
and southern Europe, there is really no more reason for supposing that
they and the Hottentots formed one and the same race than there is
for assuming that Daniel's quagga, which was practically a bay horse,
was proximately akin to the bay horse of North Africa. The occurrence
of steatopygy in two areas so wide apart is not due to an ethnical
migration, but rather to similar climatic conditions producing similar
characteristics.

As some anthropologists so commonly explain the origin of races
such as the Bantus by intermarriage, it may be well to see whether inter-
marriage between two races, one of which is an invader, is likely to
produce a permanent effect upon the general physique of a whole com-
munity. I have shown elsewhere that the many invasions of fair-
haired races into the three southern peninsulas of Europe and into the
iEgean islands have left no permanent trace on the population. It is
a matter of common knowledge that the offspring of British and native
parents in India have a constant tendency to die out. The same un-
doubtedly holds true for the offspring of British soldiers serving in
Egypt, the Soudan and West Africa. The native race always reasserts
itself. In America the Spanish blood has died out, or is dying out,
everywhere except in the temperate regions of Chile, Quito and Argen-

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 509

tina, where the descendants of the Spanish settlers thrive in a climate
very analogous to that of Spain. In the southern states of North
America the whites can not flourish, and only just manage to survive.
On the other hand, the descendants of the Negro slaves imported into
Brazil, the West Indies and the southern states of North America
thrive and multiply with extraordinary vigor; a fact doubtless due to
their race having been evolved under similar conditions in equatorial
Africa.

Even from the evidence already to hand there is high probability
that intermarriage can do little to form a new race unless the parents
on both sides are of races evolved in similar environments.

I have already pointed out that although the fair-haired race of
upper Europe has age after age kept pouring over the Alps into Italy
and the other southern peninsulas, and has constantly intermixed with
the indigenous populations, it is only in the upper part of Italy that the
blond race is able to hold its own. In Italy the xanthochrous race in
ancient times, as to-day, had its maximum along the Alps, and gradually
dwindled towards the south until the melanochrous race stood practically1
alone in the lower part of the peninsula. So too in the Balkan, whilst
the fair-haired element was at its maximum along the Alps and the
Danube, southwards the melanochrous becomes more and more com-
pletely dominant, as it practically is to-day in the lower part of the
peninsula.

(b) In the Alpine regions there has been from Neolithic times a
brachycephalic race, also found in central France and in the British
Isles, whither it is supposed to have come in the Bronze age. It has
been a fundamental article of faith with Sergi and others that this
round-headed race came from Asia, the home of brachycephalism. It
is Mongolian according to most, and spoke a non- Aryan language; but
Sergi regards it as Aryan, thus reverting to the old doctrine, which
made the Aryans come from central Asia, and he assumes that these
invaders imposed their language both on the aborigines of Italy, such
as the Ligurians, and on the blond race of northern Europe; but we
shall soon see that this assumption has no base. Now, as these folk
dwelt in the region where we find the Ligurians of historical times,
others have argued that the Ligurians were a non-Aryan people from
Asia. But it is impossible to find any hard-and-fast lines between
the Alpine race and the peoples north and south of it in culture and
sociology. For that reason, when treating of the people of the Alps in
my " Early Age of Greece " I did not take any account of the differ-
ence in cranial measurements. In 1906, at the British Association, I
maintained that this difference of skull type did not mean any racial
difference, and on the analogy of the changes in the osteology of the
Equida? I urged that the roundness of the skulls was simply due

510 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

to environment, as the horses of the Pampas when brought up into the
mountainous regions of Chile and Peru rapidly change their physical
type. Physical anthropologists have already maintained that the round
head of the Mongolian has been developed in the high altitude of the
Altai. If that be so, there is no reason why a similar phenomenon
should not have taken place in the Alpine region, in Albania, Anatolia
and wherever else in mountain areas brachycephaly has been found in
more than sporadic examples, which, of course, may well be due to
migrations or importation of slaves. But I am far from suggesting
that altitude is the only cause of brachycephaly.

The evidence, then, as far as it goes, points to the same conclusion
as that to which we came as regards pigmentation, and it may even-
tually be proved that just as each area has its own type of coloration, so
also has it its own osteological character. In support of this I may
point out that recently Dr. William Wright, Hunterian lecturer, has
come to the conclusion from his eraniological investigations that the
brachycephalic Alpine race was evolved on European soil, whilst Dr.
*C. S. Myers has been led by his researches on Egyptian skulls to con-
clude that, " in spite of the various infiltrations of foreign blood in the
past, modern Egypt contains a homogeneous population which grad-
ually shifts its average character as we proceed southwards from the
shores of the Mediterranean to Nubia beyond the First Cataract."

It is not impossible that Alpine environment may have acted upon
the shape of the skull of the ox as well as that of man. We know
from the examination of the fauna of the lake dwellings of Switzerland
that the Celtic ox (Bos longifrons) was there the common type, and
its descendants still continue to be the typical breed along the Alpine
chain. This ox is characterized by its strongly developed occipital
region and its small horns curved forward and inward. As it differs
so essentially from the urus (Bos primigenius) and from the long-
horned cattle of the Mediterranean lands, it seems not unlikely that the
peculiar cranial formation may have been evolved under mountainous
environment.

It is now clear that differences in the shape of the skull and in the
color of the skin, hair and eyes can not be at all implicitly relied on as
criteria of race. The defenders of the non-Aryan character of the
dark races of Greece, Italy, Spain, France and the British Isles have
now to depend on two arguments only, one of which is linguistic, the
other sociological. It is admitted that it is very difficult to point to
any non-Aryan survivals in the vocabularies of the languages of these
countries, and it is also admitted that in them all the tense system of
the Aryans has been taken over in its entirety. Neither Kretschmer
nor any one else has ventured to affirm that there is any survival of
non-Aryan syntactical forms in Greek, the language of all others in

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 511

which the Ayran tense system is found in its greatest delicacy and
perfection. But we know that in all cases where an Aryan language
has without doubt been adopted by a non-Aryan folk the tense system is
invariably broken up. No better example than this is needed than
ordinary " pigeon " English. So difficult is it for the defenders of the
non- Aryan theory of the origin of the aborigines of Greece to maintain
their position that one of the latest, Professor Burrows, has to rely on
certain supposed syntactical survivals of a non-Aryan language which
Sir John Rhys believes that he has found in Welsh and Irish, and in
the remarkable resemblance which Professor Morris Jones thinks that
he has traced between the syntax of those languages and that of Berber
and ancient Egyptian.

Yet when we examine the evidence on which Sir John Rhys relies,
it turns out to be only three Welsh and Cornish oghams, written not in
pure Celtic, but in dog Latin, and also two Irish oghams, which show
a looseness in the use of the genitive suffix at a time when final syllables
were dropping out of use in Irish. Sir John Rhys supposes that the
non-Aryan inhabitants of these islands derived their Gaelic speech from
a people whom he terms Ceiticans, who spoke Goidelic, and who were
followed by the Brythons, who found the aborigines already Celticized.
Professor Morris Jones freely admits that the aborigines must have
borrowed the full Aryan tense system, a fact in itself sufficient, from
what I have already said, to arouse grave suspicions as to the validity
of any arguments based on supposed fundamental grammatical differ-
ences. But this supposed taking over of the full Aryan tense system
by the non-Aryan aborigines of these islands is rendered all the more
miraculous from the circumstance that Sir John Rhys holds that his
Ceiticans, who spoke Goidelic, " came over not later than the great
movements which took place in the Celtic world of the continent in the
sixth and fifth centuries before our era," that the Brythons " came over
to Britain between the time of Pytheas and that of Julius Caesar," and
that the Brythons were not likely to come into contact on any large scale
with the aborigines " before they had been to a considerable extent
Celticized." It is thus assumed that it was possible for the aborigines
to have been so completely Celticized as to have adopted the Aryan
tense system, as well as the Aryan vocabulary, in its fullness in the
interval between the sixth or fifth century and the second century B.C.
Yet English has been the master speech in Britain for many centuries,
and that, too, when reading and writing have been commonly practised ;
yet Gaelic still survives, whilst Welsh not only survives but flourishes.
It is, therefore, simply incredible that such a complete transformation
as that postulated could have taken place in three or four centuries in an
age when writing and literature can be hardly said to have existed in
these islands.

512 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Let us now see under what conditions does one race or people borrow
the language of another. Slaves, of course, take over the language of
their masters, but we have to consider (1) the adoption by a conquer-
ing people of the language of the conquered, (2) the adoption by a con-
quered people of that of their conquerors, and (3) the adoption by a
people themselves unconquered of the language of their neighbors.
Under what conditions do the conquerors adopt the language of the con-
quered? Ireland affords us at least two certain examples. Cromwell
planted large bodies of his English soldiers in Tipperary, but they had
no English women, and therefore took as wives the daughters of the
land, who spoke the Irish language. From this union resulted a
splendid offspring, who spoke chiefly the language of their Irish
mothers, and not their fathers' English. So it came to pass that in a
single generation the progeny of Cromwell's Puritans were in language
as Irish as the purest-blooded aboriginal of Munster. Yet this adop-
tion of the Irish language by the great majority of the children of
these settlers took place in spite of the effect which the reading of books
in English must have exerted to counteract the tendency to adopt the
Irish language. Let us go back five hundred years in Irish history and
we find exactly the same process going on. The Normans who followed
Strongbow into Ireland, like their captain, frequently married native
women. It is a matter of common knowledge that the Anglo-Norman
settlers in a short time became Hiberniores ipsis Hibernis.

These and other examples too numerous to cite here prove that the
children of bodies of conquerors who marry the women of the land will
have an inevitable tendency to follow their mothers' speech. We may
also lay down as a solid factor in the tendency of the conqueror to
merge into the conquered the isolation of the conquerors from their
original homes and from the great mass of those who speak the same
language.

Next we come to the case where the conquerors bring with them
some women of their own race. This of course helps to keep their own
language alive, as a certain number of the children speak it as their
mothers' tongue. But even in these circumstances the invaders are
liable to drop their own language and practically adopt that of the
natives. Thus the Northmen who settled on the coast of France
gradually abandoned their national tongue for French, though modify-
ing dialectically their adopted language. When under the name of
Normans they conquered and settled in England, they again adopted
the language of the conquered, though modifying the English tongue
by many words and phrases brought with them from Normandy, and
we have just seen how some of their descendants who settled in Ireland
for the third time changed their speech for that of the conquered.

Hitherto all our examples show the adoption by the conquerors of

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 513

the language of the conquered, even when they bring a certain number
of their women with them.

We now come to undoubted cases where the language of the con-
queror has been able to get a firm foothold. From the time of the
plantation of Ulster, the advance of the English tongue, and con-
sequent decadence of the Irish, has steadily proceeded, for the settlers,
unlike Cromwell's Ironsides, brought with them women of their own
race and speech. Consequently their children grew up speaking Eng-
lish as their mothers' tongue. Yet even with such a basis the advance
of English amongst the Irish has been exceedingly slow. In the glens
of Antrim the Irish language still lingers on, whilst in Donegal, Con-
naught, Kerry, Cork and Waterford, English has not succeeded in
ousting completely the native language, though the former is the
language of the national schools, of the newspapers and of trade.

The story of the establishment of English itself in Britain is just
the same as in Ulster. We know from Bede that the Angles who settled
in Britain left Holstein in large bodies, bringing with them their
wives and families, and leaving their old homes without inhabitant.
Having thus settled in solid masses in the east of Britain, they retained
fully their own tongue, impressed it upon their menials, and gradually,
as they extended their conquests westward over the island, English
became the language of the land. Yet in Wales the ancient speech
still flourishes.

We may, therefore, conclude that the adoption by the conquered of
the language of the conqueror, even when it does take place, which is
but rarely, is a very slow and tedious process, although every advantage
is on the side of the invading tongue, and that when the native speech
gets a fair field, ^s in Wales, the language of the conqueror can make
little or no advance.

Only the third possibility now is left — that one people can adopt
without conquest the language of another. But no example of such
can anywhere be found, although Europe presents numerous instances
to the contrary. There can be no stronger case than that of the Swiss
Eepublic, in which peoples with more than four kinds of language com-
bine for national defense and other advantages. Here, if anywhere, we
ought to find a gradual adoption by certain cantons of the language of
their neighbors. But, far from this being so, the German, French,
Koumansch and Italian cantons rigidly preserve their respective
mother-speeches. In the Austro-Hungarian Empire there is no tend-
ency observable on the part of either Magyars or Slavs to adopt Ger-
man; nay, the very opposite is the case. Again, the Finns have not
adopted either Swedish or Eussian, though partitioned between their
more powerful neighbors.

To sum up, it seems that no nation readily adopts the language of

514 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

another, even though it be in close ties of friendship; whilst there is
still less tendency when national hostility intervenes. Secondly, the
adoption of the language of the conqueror by the conquered, except
under the most favorable circumstances, is not common, and only takes
place by a very gradual process, as is seen in the case of Ireland.
Thirdly, there is a strong tendency for the conqueror to adopt the
language of the conquered, as was done by the Normans in England,
In Ireland, in Sicily and in Italy; by the Cromwellian settlers in Tip-
perary, by the Bulgari in Bulgaria, by the Franks in Gaul, by the
Lombards in Italy and by the Visigoths in Spain. There is thus an
inevitable tendency for the children to speak their mothers' tongue, and
indeed the phrase " mother-tongue " is based on the fact observed
through long ages that the child learns its first words from its mother
and thus takes after her in speech. This law, which still holds good in
modern days and in civilized communities, must have been far stronger
in earlier times in countries where the tie of marriage hardly existed and
the child belonged to its mother's and not its father's tribe, as is still
the case in many parts of the world.

In view of these facts we can not accept Sir John Ehys's hypothesis
that when a few bodies of invaders, whom he terms Celticans, passed
into Ireland the indigenous supposed non-Aryan race within two cen-
turies completely abandoned its own language, taking over in its
entirety the Aryan tense system as well as the Aryan vocabulary of its
conquerors.

Now let us turn to Greece, Italy and Spain. It is admitted that
neither Arcadia nor Attica was ever conquered by Acheans or Dorians,
yet in both these areas the Greek language existed through all historical
time, and in Attica especially the Aryan tense system is found in its
highest perfection. The dialect of Arcadia can not have been taken
over from Acheans or Dorians, because it is the same as that of the
Cypriotes from Arcadia who settled in Cyprus at least 1100 B.C. It is
also very close to the dialect of Pelasgiotis in Thessaly, the home of
the aboriginal Pelasgian population, whilst it comes closest of all Greek
dialects to that of the ancient Epic. There can, therefore, be no doubt
that Arcadian is no mere bastard lingo, half non-Aryan, half Aryan,
but is the genuine speech of the oldest and most unmixed population of
Greece, who were undoubtedly a melanochrous race, and who also most
certainly had occupied Greece from the Stone age.

The Ligurians, who formed from the Stone age the bottom stratum
in all upper and central Italy, are now admitted to have spoken an
Aryan language, and I have recently given some reasons for believing
that the Latin language is simply the native tongue of the aboriginal
Ligurian population of Latium with some admixtures derived from the
Italic tribes of Siculi and Sabines. I have also shown that the ancient

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 515

Iberians, the next neighbors of the Ligurians, used the same forms of
place-names as the latter, and that some of the words plainly exhibit
Aryan terminations. Thus we may conclude that with the exception of
the Basques, who are probably a non- Aryan spurt from North Africa,
the melanochrous populations of Spain, Italy, the Balkan Peninsula,
France, Britain, Ireland and Holland have from the first spoken none
but an Aryan language.

(c) Only one argument is now left to the defenders of the non- Aryan
theory. When the study of sociology first sprang up in the last century,
it at once became a fundamental doctrine that the Aryans had always
been strictly patriarchal, and that polyandry and descent through
women was unknown amongst them. Though this view has received
many rude shocks in later days, Professor Zimmer argues from it that
the indigenous people of Britain and Ireland were non-Aryan.

It is well known from the ancient writers that the Picts were
polyandrous and that succession was consequently through females.
Again, it is certain, both from the ancient Irish literature and also
from statements of external writers, that the Irish were polyandrous,
and that they also almost certainly traced descent through women.
Accordingly, Professor Zimmer infers that the indigenous race was non-
Aryan. But McLennan has long since pointed out that descent through
women was the ancient law at Athens, and I have just shown that
the Athenians and Arcadians, the autochthonous, dark-complexioned
people of Greece, never spoke any save an Aryan tongue. Moreover,
I have shown elsewhere that the Ligurians, who are now generally
admitted to have spoken always an Aryan language, had descent through
women, whilst I have also pointed out that there is good evidence that
the ancient Latins, who have generally been taken as typical Aryans,
had the same system. Again, it is admitted that the ancient Illyrians
and dark-complexioned Thracians spoke an Aryan language, which,
inasmuch as it differed materially in certain ways from that spoken by
their Celtic overlords, must have been aboriginal, whilst I have further
given grounds for believing that the ancient Iberians (though not the
Basques) were also an Aryan-speaking folk. But there is good evi-
dence that the Illyrians, melanochrous Thracians and Iberians all
traced descent through women. In view of these facts it is useless to
urge that because the Picts of Scotland and the ancient Irish had that
system of succession through females these peoples must have been non-
Aryan.

We have now reviewed the three main criteria of race at present
used by anthropologists: (a) pigmentation of the skin, hair and eyes;
(&) the shape of the skull and other osteological characteristics; and
finally, (c) their system of tracing descent. We have seen that osteo-
logical differences may be but foundations of sand, because it is certain

516 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

that such variations take place within very short periods, not only
in the case of the lower animals, as in the horse family, but in man
himself. Pigmentation is no true criterion, for we have found a steady
tendency to change in color in the case of the lower animals from lati-
tude to latitude, whilst in the case of man the steady shading off in
color from dark to blond may be traced from the equator to the
Baltic. Unless, then, we postulate that man is entirely free from the
natural laws which condition the osteology and pigmentation of other
animals, we must admit that neither bone nor color differences can be
regarded as crucial criteria. Further, we saw that the test of descent
through males or females broke down absolutely in the case of peoples
who can be proved historically never to have spoken any but a non-
Aryan language. Finally, we are forced to the conclusion that lan-
guage, now that we realize what are the laws which govern its borrow-
ing by one race from another, is really the surest of all the known
tests of race when dealt with broadly and over wide areas, and not
merely in the way of guesswork etymologies.

II. Hitherto I have dealt only with the need of a rigid application
of zoological laws in studying the evolution of the various races of man.
In the time that is still left I propose to touch briefly on the vast
importance of such natural laws when dealing with the native races of
our great dependencies and colonies, and in our own social legislation.
I venture to think that the gravest mistakes which at present are being
made in our administration and legislation are due to the total dis-
regard of the natural laws, which not only modify and differentiate one
race from another, but also are constantly producing variations within
our own community. As physical characteristics are in the main the
result of environment, social institutions and religious ideas are no
less the product of that environment. Several of our most distin-
guished Indian and colonial administrators have pointed out that most
of the mistakes made by British officials are due to their ignorance of
the habits and customs of the natives. It has been in the past an
axiom of British politicians that in the English Constitution and in
English law there is a panacea for every political and social difficulty
in any race under the sun. Only let us give, it is urged, this or that
state a representative parliamentary system and trial by jury and all
will go well. The fundamental error in this doctrine is the assumption
that a political and legal system evolved during many centuries amongst
a people of northwestern Europe, largely Teutonic, and that, too, living
not on the mainland but on an island, can be applied cut and dried
to a people evolved during countless generations in tropical or sub-
tropical regions, with social institutions and religious ideas widely dif-
ferent from those of even South Europeans, and still more so from
those of northern Europe. We might just as well ask the Ethiopian to

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 517

change his skin as to change radically his social and religions ideas.
It has been shown by experience that Christianity can make but little
headway amongst many peoples in Africa or Asia, where, on the other
hand, Muhammadanism has made and is steadily making progress,
acting distinctly for good, as in Africa, by putting down human sacri-
fice and replacing fetish worship by a lofty monotheism. This is prob-
ably due to the fact that Muhammadanism is a religion evolved amongst
a Semitic people who live in latitudes bordering on the aboriginal races
of Africa and Asia, and that it is far more akin in its social ideas
to those of the Negro or Malay than are those of Christianity, more
especially of that form of Christianity evolved during the last twelve
centuries by the Teutonic peoples of upper Europe, who are of all races
farthest in physical characteristics1, in religious ideals and social insti-
tutions, from the dark races of Africa and Asia. This great gulf is
due not merely to shallow prejudice against other people's notions ; it is
as deep-seated as is the physical antipathy felt by the Teuton for the
Negro, which is itself due to the very different climatic conditions under
which both races have been evolved. The Teuton does not freely blend
with the black, and even when he does intermarry he treats his own
half-bred progeny with contempt, or at most with toleration. On the
other hand, some south Europeans — for example, the Portuguese — are
said to have little objection to intermarrying with dark races and allow-
ing the mixed progeny an equal social status, whilst the Arab through
the ages has freely taken to wife the African, and has never hesitated
to treat the hybrid offspring as equals. There is thus a wide breach
between the physique and the social and religious ideas of the African
and our own; but, as political and legal institutions are indissolubly
bound up with social and religious, it follows inevitably that the
political and legal institutions of a race cradled in northern Europe
are exceedingly ill adapted for the children of the equator. Accord-
ingly, in any wise administration of these regions it must be a primary
object to study the native institutions, to modify and elevate them
whenever it may be possible, but never to seek to eradicate and supplant
them. Any attempt to do so will be but vain, for these institutions
are as much part of the land as are its climate, its soil, its fauna
and its flora. " Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret." Let
us hope for a successful issue for the effort now being made by the
Royal Anthropological Institute to establish an Imperial Bureau of
Anthropology whose function will be not only to carry out system-
atically the scientific study of man, but also to aid the administrator
and the legislator, the merchant and the missionary.

III. I now pass to my last and most important topic — natural laws
in relation to our own social legislation. We have seen that environ-
ment is a powerful factor in the differentiation of the various races of

518 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

man, alike in physique, institutions and religion. It is probable that
the food-supply at hand in each region may be an important element
in these variations, whilst the nature of the food and drink preferred
there may itself be due in no small degree to climatic conditions. Each
zone has its own peculiar products, and beyond doubt the natives of
each region differ in their tastes for food and drink. The aboriginal
of the tropics is distinctly a vegetarian, whilst the Eskimo within the
arctic circle is practically wholly carnivorous. In each case the taste
is almost certainly due to the necessities of their environment, for the
man in the arctic regions could not survive without an abundance of
animal fat. It is probable that the more northward man advanced the
more carnivorous he became in order to support the rigors of the
northern climate. The same holds equally true in the case of drink.
Temperance reforms would enforce by legislation complete abstinence
from all alcoholic liquors, and they point to the sobriety of the
Spaniards, Italians and other South Europeans, and urge, if these
nations are so temperate, why should Britons and Irish continue to
drink beer and spirits in such large quantities? This appeal depends,
unfortunately, on the false assumption that the natives of these islands
enjoy the same climate as the people of the sunny south. All across
northern Europe and Asia there is a universal love of strong drink,
which is not the mere outcome of vicious desires, but of climatic law.
In Shakespeare's time " your Englishman was most potent in potting,"
and this was no new outbreak of depravity, for the earliest reference
in history to the natives of these islands tells the same tale. When
Pytheas of Marseilles traveled in these regions, about 350 B.C.,, he found
the people making " wine from barley," and, though he does not ex-
plicitly say so, we need not doubt that it was meant for home con-
sumption. In view of these facts we must regard this tendency as
essentially climatic. This view derives additional support from the
well-authenticated fact that one of the chief characteristics of tbe
descendants of British settlers in Australia is their strong teetotalism.
This can not be set down to their having a higher moral standard than
their ancestors, but rather, as in the case of Spaniards and Italians, to
the circumstance that they live in a country much warmer and drier
than the British Isles. We must, therefore, no matter how reluctantly,
come to the conclusion that no attempt to eradicate this tendency to
alcobol in these latitudes can be successful, for the most that can be
done by the philanthropist and the legislator is to modify and control
it, but especially by moral means.

I have spoken of the principles at work in the differentiation of one
race from another. It may be that the same principles or others
closely allied may be at work within each community, for each com-
munity is but the whole world writ small. Within the United King-

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 519

dom itself there are not only different physical types, but very dif-
ferent ideas respecting marriage and divorce embodied in the laws
regulating those fundamental institutions in England, Scotland and
Ireland. If such fundamental differences exist in that most important
of social institutions, we may well expect that the natural laws which
differentiate one race from another may be at work within every com-
munity in the United Kingdom.

Yet though the world has been ringing with the doctrine of natural
selection and the survival of the fittest for nearly half a century, no
statesman ever dreams of taking these great principles into considera-
tion when devising any scheme of education or social reform. On the
contrary, it is a fundamental assumption in all our educational and
social reforms that all men are born with equal capacities; that there is
no difference in this respect between the average child of the laborer,
sprung from many generations of laborers, and one born of many
generations of middle- or upper-class progenitors ; and it is held that all
that is necessary to make the children of the working classes equal, if
not superior, to the children of the bourgeois is the same food, the same
clothing and the same educational advantages. Gn that account we
have devised the so-called educational ladder. Yet if we ask any social
reformer why are there middle classes, the answer will probably be that
they are better off. But why are they better off? We are told that
their fathers and mothers were better off, and that they thus got a
better chance than the poor laborer. But why were the parents of
these middle-class folks better off ? Oh ! they came of families that had
been long well-to-do. But why were these families long well-to-do?
At last we are brought to the conclusion of the northern farmer, that
" Work mun 'a' gone to the gittin' whiniver munny was got," and to his
brutal correlative respecting the laborers that " Them or thir feythers,
tha sees, mun 'a' bean a laazy lot."

Work no doubt has been a main factor in the evolution of the
middle and upper classes, especially in later times, though undoubtedly
other qualities, such as superior physique and superior courage, have
been very important elements in the earlier stages. But at all times it
is not improbable that the special quality which led to their rise was a
superior self-restraint, that enabled them to resist the vices which are
too often attendant on prosperity. This superior morale acts in turn
upon the offspring by setting up a better standard of life in the home,
which of itself gives children brought up in such an environment an
advantage at the outset of life denied to the children of inferior parents.
It needs no elaborate induction to prove that the middle classes are not
the outcome of chance, but of a long process of natural selection and
the survival of the fittest in the struggle for life, the two main factors
in this evolution being, in the language of Aristotle, heredity and

52o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

training. Each community is but a microcosm of the whole human
race, which, as I have endeavored to show, is bound by the same laws
as the rest of the animal kingdom. One race becomes a master because
of its superior physique, courage, brain power and morale; another
sinks in the struggle or lags behind owing to its inferiority in the very
qualities which have given the mastery to its rival. What is true of
master races in relation to inferior races is equally true of the indi-
viduals in each community. The middle and upper classes are in the
main sprung from ancestors with better physique, courage and morale,
and who have generation after generation been brought up in a better
moral atmosphere than the children of the masses. Their ranks are
also continually being reinforced by the best of the working classes.
But this is not due to any educational ladder provided in modern times,
for the process has always been at work, though of course its action has
been distinctly aided by modern legislation. Medieval history supplies
many examples of those who, though sprung from the humblest parents,
rose to high place in church and state. This was not due to any legis-
lative enactments, but rather to a principle well known in the whole
field of nature. Every one knows that the superior varieties of flowers
and vegetables are commonly the " sports," as they are termed, from
inferior species. The skillful gardener watches carefully for good
" sports," for they may become very valuable additions to his repertoire
of useful plants. So, too, the legislator must watch carefully for good
human " sports," not for those with criminal propensities. In the
medieval world the church provided a ladder by which the son of the
peasant could rise to be the counsellor of kings and princes. In modern
times the state provides an educational ladder by which the child of the
humblest parents may rise, if it has the capacity, to the highest posi-
tions in the community. It is right — nay, essential — that such a
ladder should be provided, but this ladder is not for the mass of chil-
dren. The vast majority can never climb beyond its lowest rung, owing
to their heredity, and in a less degree to their home environment. The
ladder is for the good " sports," who by its aid are thus continually
reinforcing with fresh blood the ranks of the middle and upper classes.
It may be said that I underrate the number of the good " sports."
Of course it is very difficult to get any exact statistics on so complex a
subject; but according to information which I have obtained from one
of our great industrial centers, where the educational ladder enables any
child who passes the fourth standard in the primary schools before it is
eleven to rise into the secondary schools, it is probable that no more
than 5 or 6 per cent, of the children of the working classes have at the
age of sixteen the same amount of brain power as the average children
of the middle classes at the same age. But even all this 5 or 6 per
cent, of " sports " can not be credited to parents of the working class

ZOOLOGICAL LAWS 521

alone, for it may be that a certain proportion of them must be ascribed
to middle- or upper-class parents. Of course these rude statistics must
be corrected by others collected on a large scale all over the country
before we can form a final judgment; but I believe that the evidence
already to hand makes it improbable that more than a very limited
percentage of the children of the working classes have the same ability
as the average child of the middle classes.

In ancient days the chief end of the legislator was to produce a
stalwart brood of citizens capable of bearing arms in defense of their
country and advancing her material prosperity. Still more ought this
to be the aim of our legislators to-day, for under modern conditions
great masses of population are huddled together in a manner hardly
known to ancient cities. To accomplish this great end, the legislator
must not merely look to improved housing of the poor and the develop-
ment of the physique of city populations. He must, as far as possible,
conform to the principles of the stock-breeder, whose object is to rear
the finest horses, cattle or sheep. Amongst wild animals nature selects
the fittest for continuing the race, and the wise breeder simply aids
nature by selecting still more carefully the best animals. The legis-
lator, on his part, ought similarly to foster the increase of the best
element in the state, and on the other hand discourage the multiplica-
tion of the worst. Yet in our community statesmen of both parties
have adopted the very opposite policy. The children of the working
classes are educated at the cost of the state, the offspring of the wastrels
are given free meals, and already there are demands that they shall be
clothed at the expense of the ratepayers, and that the parents shall
even be paid for providing them with lodging. It is not impossible
that before long these demands will be conceded by either party in
the state. The heavy additional expense incurred in this policy falls
upon the middle-class ratepayers and taxpayers, who have to feed, edu-
cate and clothe their own children at their own expense. I may be
said that they can get free education for their children by sending
them to the state schools; but this is to level down instead of to level
up ; for if they do so they will be lowering the general morale of their
own class, the most priceless asset of the nation. The heavy burden
of taxation entailed by this policy, falling as it does with special weight
on the middle classes, renders it more difficult each year for the young
men and the young women in that class to marry before thirty, for
they naturally shrink from the expense of bringing up large or even
moderate-sized families. We need not, then, wonder at the falling off
in the rate of increase of the middle classes. Our legislators are bad
stockmasters, for they are selecting to continue the race the most unfit
physically and morally, whilst they discourage more and more the
increase of what we have proved to be the outcome of a long process

522 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of natural selection. The present policy, therefore, tends to reduce that
which in all ages has been the mainstay of every state, the middle class.
The yoemen of England, the free burghers of Germany and of Italy,
formed the best element in the Middle Ages. So was it also with the
great republics of the ancient world. Aristotle, in more than one
passage, has pointed out that the middle class, that which stands be-
tween the " excessively wealthy " and the " very poor," between the
" millionaire " and the " wastrel," are the mainstay of every state, and
he shows that, where the middle class has been crushed out by the mil-
lionaire or the mob, ruin has inevitably overtaken the state. Indeed,
it is clear that the chief defect in the Greek democracies was the small-
ness and weakness of the middle class, whilst it is notorious that Eome
prospered only as long as the middle-class citizens flourished. Her
downfall came when they were extinguished by the great capitalists,
who made common cause with the masses against them. The latter
had no patriotism, were incapable of bearing arms, and had no aspira-
tions beyond free meals and popular entertainments at the expense of
the state.

It is of great scientific interest to discover how the short-skulled
peoples of Asia and Europe became differentiated from their long-
skulled congeners; it is of great practical importance to apply to the
administration of our great dependencies and colonies the lessons
taught by anthropology; but it is infinitely more important to main-
tain a vigorous stock of citizens for the kingdom and the empire.
Questions of the origin of races are, after all, only academic; but the
other two, more especially the last, are intimately bound up with the
life of the nation. If the present policy of our legislators is adhered
to, the moral and the physical standard of the British citizen will
steadily deteriorate, for the population will gradually come to consist
of the posterity of those who are themselves sprung from many genera-
tions of the most unfit. Should this unfortunately come to pass, it
will be the result of human pride refusing to apply to the human race
the laws which inexorably regulate all nature.

CANADIAN WHEAT 5*3

CANADIAN WHEAT

By Professor JOHN WADDELL

SCHOOL OF MINING, KINGSTON, CANADA

FOR twenty years the Canadian government has been carrying on
experiments in wheat growing under the supervision of the
director of the Experimental Farm at Ottawa, Dr. William Saunder3.

The United States leads the world in the production of wheat;
Canada's growth is only one ninth as large, her export to Great Britain
during the years 1901-3 was slightly less than one fifth, though in
1905 it was somewhat more than one half. The year 1905 was very
abnormal, however. The United States export to Britain was exceed-
ingly low and was surpassed by those of Eussia, Argentina and India.
But Canada's growth of wheat, though much less, is greater in propor-
tion to her population, and in view of the many millions to be fed in
the United States, it seems natural that before long Canada will
export a greater quantity than she. Considering the circumstances,
this is as natural as that America's output of coal and trade in iron
should be the greatest in the world.

But the greater part of the Canadian wheat area is north of the
forty-ninth parallel of latitude and so Dr. Saunders has experimented
in growing wheat as far north as possible. The climate in America is
colder than at the corresponding latitude in Europe, and so far, at least,
we have no records of wheat being grown in Canada as far north as in
Russia, but a near approach has been made. Winnipeg's latitude is
50°, and wheat has been grown at Dunvegan on the Peace River, on a
parallel of latitude 414 miles north of Winnipeg; at Fort Vermillion,
farther down the Peace River, 591 miles by latitude north of Winnipeg,
and at Fort Simpson on the Mackenzie, 818 miles north. The latitude
of Fort Simpson is approximately sixty-two degrees or within five
degrees of the Arctic circle. The length of the summer days com-
pensates for a lower temperature, and the time of ripening of some of
the earlier grains is practically the same as in Ottawa. At Fort
Simpson 107 days were required as compared with 106 days in Ottawa,
some sixteen degrees farther south. Sixteen degrees south of Ottawa
is New Orleans. Among the first experiments were comparisons of
different varieties of wheat and these experiments are still carried on
continually. Some varieties, probably by far the greater number, are
cultivated for a season or two only, because they prove to be worthless,

524 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

but many are sown year after year. These experiments are carried on
not only at the central station at Ottawa, but at other stations as well,
chiefly in the northwest. Plots one fortieth of an acre in size are
found most convenient for the preliminary tests. When varieties are
tested for productiveness the condition of ground and cultivation and
seeding are made uniform and it has been found that productiveness
is in a large degree persistent. Thirty-one varieties of wheat were
grown year after year for five years, and of these a select list of the
best twelve was made each year. It was found that there were only
sixteen varieties that entered this list during the five years, the varie-
ties that were superior in one year being for the most part superior
always. Productiveness is, of course, an important consideration, for,
other things being equal, an additional bushel per acre means an
annual increase of four million dollars with Canada's present wheat
acreage, and a correspondingly larger increase as more land is brought
under cultivation.

Eed Fife is the standard variety of wheat in Canada. It was
imported in 1842 by Mr. David Fife, of Otonabee, Ontario, and was
part of a cargo brought from Danzig on the Baltic, to Glasgow, and
there transshipped to Canada. Dr. Saunders found that during the
nearly fifty years that Red Fife had been cultivated there had been
no deterioration, the quantity and quality of crop were as good as
ever and in the northwest appeared even to improve. But it is rather
later in ripening than is desirable where frosts set in early, and one
of the great objects aimed at has been to cultivate a variety having the
good qualities of Red Fife and at the same time maturing earlier. If
also increased productiveness, quality of grain, strength of straw,
or ability to resist rust could be attained, so much the better. The
value of early ripening is evident when one realizes that two or three
weeks' gain in this respect enables a variety to be grown several hun-
dred miles farther north.

One of Dr. Saunders's first measures was to import varieties from
all parts of the world where wheat was grown and to test their devel-
opment under the new conditions. The United States, Japan, Aus-
tralia, Russia, and even India, contributed many varieties. It was
fortunate that the collection was so world wide, for the unexpected
happened. It was found that several varieties from India were among
the earliest. This proved to be because they were grown in the Him-
alayas. Thereupon special attention was paid to India, and at a height
of 11,000 feet a variety was obtained, the Gehun, that has since been
the subject of much experiment. This, along with the Ladoga variety,
obtained from the district surrounding the lake of that name, and the
Onega variety, from near Archangel, has proved the most promising of

CANADIAN WHEAT 525

the early wheats imported and thus an altitude of eleven thousand feet
in a latitude of twenty-five or thirty degrees offsets a northern latitude
of sixty or sixty-five degrees at a low level.

New varieties have been obtained by selection and cultivation of
natural variations, but a new era was begun on July 19, 1888, when
the first experiments were undertaken in the cross-breeding of wheat
on the Experimental Farm, and since that time several hundred new
sorts have been produced and tested. None of the imported varieties
which mature earlier than Eed Fife were found to equal it in quality,
and in originating the new productions by cross-fertilization Red Fife
has in the majority of cases been one of the parents. Ladoga is about
a week earlier than Eed Fife and is fairly productive, and numerous
crosses were made between the two. The most promising of the off-
spring were carefully cultivated and subjected to rigid inspection, all
less desirable sorts being promptly discarded, and the better ones mul-
tiplied till seed was obtained for large plots. Of the progeny from
this cross, perhaps the most satisfactory and promising are the Preston,
a bearded variety, and the Stanley, beardless. These varieties are
twin. They originated from one kernel. The heads produced the
first season from this kernel were all bearded, but when the seeds from
these heads were sown the year following, some plants produced bearded
heads and some beardless, and afterwards each variation was cultivated
until the type became fixed. The Stanley is from four to six days
earlier than Red Fife, is equal to it in milling structure, appearance
and strength, but a nine years' comparison shows that on the average
it is less productive, its yield being 32 bushels, 2 pounds, against
33 bushels, 7 pounds, in the case of Red Fife. The Preston is as early
as the Stanley, is more productive than Red Fife, but is of a slightly
lower grade, worth in the London Corn Exchange about three quarters
of a cent per bushel less. The value per acre is higher than in the
case of Stanley or Red Fife.

Ladoga has also been crossed with White Fife, a variety slightly
more productive than Red Fife. The most valuable of the progeny
are Huron, which is bearded, is early and is slightly more productive
than Red Fife; and Percy, also early, equal to Red Fife in quality,
but even less productive than Stanley, yielding as a nine years' average
about one hundred pounds less wheat per acre than the standard Red
Fife.

Neither Gehun nor Onega is very productive, but, as before stated,
they are both early and of their progeny Early Riga ripens eight or
nine days earlier than Red Fife. Its productiveness is more than two
bushels per acre lower than Red Fife, but its content of gluten — the
most important constituent of wheat — is higher. I quote Dr. Saun-
ders's words:

526

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The reports on the Early Riga wheat are most gratifying. The proportion
of gluten found in this variety is about twenty per cent, more than in Red
Fife and the quality of gluten equal. To find a wheat superior in quality to
Red Fife is what one would scarcely expect; but to find that superiority asso-
ciated with so much earliness — from eight to nine days as an average of five
years' trial — is highly satisfactory. The general introduction of such a wheat
will probably extend the wheat-growing area in Canada and make it successful
at points farther north than is possible with the varieties at present grown.
The fact that it falls a little below Red Fife in yield is more than atoned for
by its earliness and quality. The outlook in this connection is most encour-
aging and the results a triumph of the skill of the plant breeder.

The relation between the very important varieties described may

be represented as in the accompanying diagram:

Red Fife
33 bush., 7 lbs.

Ladoga

7 days earlier than Red Fife;

quality poorer.

Preston, bearded

4-6 days earlier than Red Fife,

34 bush., 41 lbs.

Strength and color marks

slightly lower.
Worth f ct. less per bushel.

Stanley, beardless

4-6 days earlier than Red Fife,

32 bush., 2 lbs.

Equal in milling structure,

appearance and strength

to Red Fife.

White Fife
33 bush., 15 lbs.

Ladoga

Huron, bearded

4-5 days earlier than Red Fife,

33 bush., 11 lbs.

Percy, beardless

4-5 days earlier than Red Fife.

Equal in milling structure,

appearance and strength

to Red Fife.

Gehun
Early; not very productive.

Onega
Early; not very productive.

Early Riga

8-9 days earlier than Red Fife.

Gluten 20 per cent, higher, equal in quality and color;

dough slightly darker, reported " creamy white,"

instead of " white " as in the case of Red Fife.

The cultivation of the different varieties was carried on by Dr.
Saunders and his assistants, but the value of the product was deter-
mined not only by the chemist of the experimental farms, but by one

CANADIAN WHEAT 5*7

of the most competent authorities in England and by Mr. Julicher, of
Minneapolis, one of America's best known wheat experts.

Though only a few varieties have been specifically mentioned in
this article because they have been most thoroughly investigated, yet
many others show great promise, some of them maturing two weeks
earlier than Bed Fife. These will probably prove valuable not only
in northern latitudes, but also in cold and damp soils farther south.
A variety that proves promising at one station is tested at the others
and if it is satisfactory it is grown in plots larger than the experi-
mental, and the very best grain is selected for further experiments.

Until within the last few years experiments on the milling proper-
ties and quality of flour of a new variety of wheat could not readily
be carried out because small quantities of grain could not well be
ground in ordinary flour mills, and several years were needed in order
to grow a sufficient amount for testing, but now the use of a small
experimental mill and of the necessary baking apparatus enables every
new variety to be tested before it is distributed to farmers throughout
the country. For experiments have not been confined to the Experi-
mental Farms. After it has been found that a variety proves satis-
factory on the small scale and in the special localities under the super-
vision of the government, the seed is sent out to all farmers applying
for it. The first year 1,149 lots were sent out in this way; in 1906
over 45,000 samples, each of five pounds, carefully selected and done
up in strong cotton bags. In order to provide this seed, large areas
are set apart, chiefly at the stations in the northwest, whence the grain
is sent to Ottawa for distribution. The very earliest sorts are sent out
so far only to those places where there is good reason to hope that they
will be of particular value.

Dr. Saunders calculates that even without including the far north-
ern territories the Canadian northwest could supply not only sufficient
wheat for a local population of thirty millions, but have left over three
times as much as the total import of the British Isles. This is on the
assumption that one fourth of the arable land is devoted to wheat.
If the northern lands are made available by the cultivation of very
early varieties of wheat it follows that the possibilities of Canada are
immense.

Dr. Saunders's work is therefore of the greatest value to Canada
and must have an influence on the rest of the world as well.

528 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION

By Pkofessok W. LeCONTE STEVENS

WASHINGTON AND LEE UNIVERSITY

IN war between nations the standardization of armies is universally
recognized to be the first essential of efficiency. The function of
every leader, every fighter and every carrier is distinctly understood.
Likewise in the domestic war of commerce, which is chronic, the organ-
ization of great corporations, with division of labor and singling of in-
dustrial functions, is the greatest promoter of both production and
distribution. In theory the great corporation is a public blessing. In
practise its beneficence has been somewhat concentrated, the benefit to
the public being only incidental, but loudly proclaimed. The organ-
ized corporation receives from the state a charter, intended for the
protection of the unorganized public. The corporation is justly held
responsible to the state for the performance of the functions specified
in its charter and for the avoidance of injustice to the public. The
most troublesome problem of our country at present is connected with
the enforcement of laws intended to protect the public from the greed
of corporations, from false capitalization, from unjust discrimination
in rates, from the corruption of legislation by indirect purchase of
special privileges. Whether a tariff should be intended for national
revenue or for protection to the special interests organized into great
corporations is a question the settlement of which is already clear
enough, but practically it may perhaps be reserved for a future genera-
tion. Whatever may be its settlement, the corporations are here to stay
and no return to the simpler conditions of a half century ago can
be expected. We are adapting ourselves to present conditions and in
time this problem will be solved as others of no less magnitude have
been solved by our fathers.

One of the real benefits to the public due to the existence of great
corporations has been the development of a general demand for
standardization. Everything must be measured that can be bought or
sold. The results of work must be numerically compared; new units
of measurement must be devised as soon as needed; secondary units
must be derived from them ; and familiarity with these must be readily
attained by the public. Corporations must be compelled to give to the
public a correct valuation of properties controlled, of profits earned,
of wages paid, of business methods employed. Some corporations, such
as national banks, have been for years already subjected to such regula-

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION 529

tion, with advantage both to themselves and to the public. The enforce-
ment of the laws relating to banks has rarely ever been a hardship
except to those that have made themselves unsafe by recklessness.
Stockholders and depositors have a right to protection ; and this might
easily be denied them if the inspection of banks were denied. Such is
human nature, that the temptation to dishmonesty is greatly reduced by
the consciousness of responsibility and the knowledge that untruthful-
ness in accounts will be sure to bring its own natural punishment with
little delay.

In the work of education the process of standardization is as
inevitable as in other great industries, despite the fact that the train-
ing of the young is not directly merchantable and that industrial com-
petition is not so conspicuous here as in transportation or manufactures.
The American public-school system is an enormous educational in-
dustry, divided into as many state corporations as there are states in
the union, and with as many subsidiary corporations as there are cities
where municipal school systems are supported by local taxation. The
growth of this aggregation of school industries since the close of the
civil war has been proportioned to our national growth in population.
The annual profits can not be expressed in dollars, but the value of the
system as a popular investment is manifested by the willingness of the
people to pay for the maintenance of such schools. During the twenty
years from 1880 to 1900 the population of the United States grew from
50,000,000 to 75,000,000, and the enrolment in schools from 10,000,-
000 to 15,000,000; in each case an increase of 50 per cent. In the
same interval the total estimated property of the country grew from
$42,000,000,000 to $94,000,000,000, an increase of 119 per cent. ; and
the total expenditure for schools from $80,000,000 to $214,000,000, an
increase of 162 per cent.

The rate of increase in expenditure for education was thus about
one third greater than the rate of increase in wealth. The average
expense to each person in the country for the maintenance of schools
rose from $1.56 to $3.36. For salaries of teachers and superintendents
the outlay rose from $56,000,000 to $137,000,000. A passing com-
parison may be here made with the amounts paid by the national gov-
ernment to the army of war pensioners; in 1880, $56,000,000; in 1900,
$140,000,000. The function of a war pensioner is to teach patriotism,
even if he has never been near a battle. His reward has much exceeded
that of the teacher who has really earned his salary. There is need
for a consistent system of standardization in comparing the value of the
war pensioner with that of the teacher.

In most of our country the system of public education is well
organized, and through the reports of superintendents every citizen can
obtain all the information he wishes regarding school expenditures,
vol. lxxiii. — 34.

53© POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

courses of instruction, standards of scholarship, and general efficiency.
Each state is supreme in the control of education within its own borders,
and there is apparently little danger that public education will be made
subject to the interstate commerce law and thus become subject to
federal control. Although state organization is not equally thorough
in all sections, the actual condition of public education in any selected
state can be well ascertained by comparison of the reports required
by law from all superintendents. Without the power of federal control
the national bureau of education prepares and issues an annual report
embodying a large mass of statistical information and discussion on
education, most of which is gathered by voluntary contribution or by
study of reports from all parts of the world.

When we pass from the domain of public education to that of
private schools a change becomes perceptible. In the public schools
there is well-defined gradation into primary, grammar and high schools,
the high school generally including four years of well-adjusted work.
In the private school there is no responsibility to the state, and each
school fixes its own standards. There is more elasticity than in the
public school, better opportunity for adaptation to individual needs, but
less opportunity for an outsider to form a judgment of the pupil's
attainments on presentation of a certificate of graduation. Much ex-
cellent work is done, but the opportunities for comparison between
private schools are limited, and the opportunities for undue claims to
excellence are great. These schools must continue so long as the need
for unusual personal attention remains, or as parents are disposed to
pay for the privilege of social exclusiveness. As they are usually not
incorporated institutions, they can not be held responsible to the public
for their standards, and are hence free from such inspection as is not
specially invited. Some of them advertise largely, and pretentiously
assume the name of colleges, institutes or military academies. In
many parts of our country this is done apparently in obedience to
popular demand, and is an index of the lack of local demand for
standardization.

When we begin to consider the vast conglomerate of institutions
that are incorporated as colleges, universities and technical schools we
enter a region of chaos. If a school applies to a state legislature for a
charter of incorporation as a college there is at present no standard
generally recognized by legislators to determine what is a college. To
most of them it means merely a school controlled by trustees who
form a corporate body, and whose liberty must not be limited so long
as they obey the existing laws of the state. It is greatly the exception
to find in any state a law intended to protect the public from fraudulent
colleges. Such a law was passed by New York a dozen or more years
ago. Its main features are as follows :

For an institution to be chartered as a college, (1) it must have at

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION 531

least six professors giving their entire time to college work. (2) It
must require for admission not less than four years of high-school
work in addition to the preceding full work of the grammar school.

(3) It must give a course of four full years before granting its degree.

(4) It must have a productive endowment of at least $200,000. This
of course excludes the valuation of land, buildings, equipment, tuition
fees or special benefactions.

If this law were adopted and enforced in every state of the union it
would exclude five-sixths of the institutions now bearing the name of
college or university. Whether such a standard is just or unjust is
not for these institutions to determine. It depends partly on the
standards of the preparatory high schools that are under the control of
the state. No institution should be permitted to assume the name of
college whose standard of admission is so low as to allow access for
students who have not completed the full high-school course of four
years. It depends also on the consensus of opinion among the majority
of those who are doing college work in the different countries of the
civilized world. The standard of admission just set forth is below that
required by the universities in England and on the continent of Europe,
and above that which has hitherto been possible of attainment in the
southern parts of the United States, where the high-school course is
often only three years in length. All standards are the results of agree-
ment, either tacit or formulated, and the consensus of opinion among
educators in the more densely populated parts of the United States
seems to be that the New York law is not unreasonable.

Most institutions that assume the name of college claim that for the
average student four years of college work are needed to obtain a
degree. But obviously if the starting point is low the ending point
must be correspondingly low, since the capacity of the average student
is fairly constant. The claim may be made that examination standards
are kept high in spite of low entrance requirements, so that only the
best students can expect to be graduated, or even to get through safely
in the year's work for a given subject. The present writer once entered
a college class in mathematics that had sixty members at the opening
of the session, of whom sixteen were taking the subject for the second
time. At the close of the session he was so fortunate as to be one of
only fifteen who were successfully passed. Of the sixteen who were
second-year men seven had failed, and of the forty-four first-year men
only six had been successful. The standard of attainment was reason-
able enough, but the prerequisites for admission had not been so clearly
expressed as to give an adequate idea of the ordeal to which the
applicant was to be subjected. If three fourths of a class fail, this does
not necessarily mean that so large a fraction of its membership is made
up of students who have been unfaithful or of less than usual ability.
The amount of teaching may have been insufficient, or the discipline too

532 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

lax, or the student may have been admitted at his own peril when safe-
guards ought to have been provided to shield him from certain failure.
No guarantee of success can ever be given; but, if he fails, his mis-
fortune ought not to be due to the imposition of a standard that is
possible for only the exceptional man unless the subject is one that
implies exceptional scholarship. Unnecessary failure is a calamity,
and a fairly good student has the right to expect reasonable protection
from it. Few institutions, however, venture upon such indiscriminate
slaughter of the innocents as is implied in the case just cited. There
may, of course, be exceptions, but in the majority of cases the real
value of a diploma at the end of four years is quite fairly propor-
tioned to the value of the entrance requirements at the beginning of
that period.

The requirement of six professors giving their entire time to college
work is one to which probably no exception can be taken by any who
have real knowledge of the meaning of such work. A college to be
successful must be well organized. Its head must be energetic, tactful,
a good judge of men, thoroughly appreciative of high scholarship, a
keen detector of efficiency in teaching, and the possessor of exceptional
administrative power. Each professor must not only know his own
subject, and how to teach it, but must be single-minded in his devotion
to the interests of the institution. To devote most of his time, or even
any considerable part of it, to the practise of a profession, with teach-
ing thrown in as an incidental, is to ensure the sacrifice of the student's
interests. Through the medium of the press he should keep in touch
with the public, and especially with the educational and scientific world,
but his main work is in connection with his students, and his income
should be such as to make outside work unnecessary. So small a num-
ber as six of such men is scarcely sufficient to carry on the work of any
modern college. If the New York law is objectionable the fault con-
sists in prescribing a number that is too small rather than too large for
a minimum.

The assignment of $200,000 as a lower limit for the productive
endowment of a college is a very moderate recognition of what is im-
plied in college teaching. With five per cent, as the rate of interest
such a college would have but $10,000 as its income aside from students'
fees. Assuming one hundred paying students at $100 each, the income
is thus raised to $20,000. Of this, three fifths may be allowed for the
cost of instruction, the rest being absorbed in the expenses of admin-
istration and operation. A salary allowance of but $2,000 is hence left
for each of six professors, the president's salary being included in the
cost of administration. The ratio of students to professors would be
100 to 6, or nearly 17, a number too large for the best efficiency. For
reasons locally deemed satisfactory, many students are usually admitted
without the payment of tuition, with no allowance to the professor for

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION 533

increasing his burden, so that the teaching ratio is raised from 17 to
possibly 20 or more.

The Carnegie Foundation for the x^dvancement of Teaching pub-
lished, in May, 1908, the teaching ratios of 93 leading American educa-
tional institutions, deduced from data furnished by them. For example,
this ratio is given for Johns Hopkins as 4.3 ; Haverford College, 6.5 ;
Harvard, 8.8; Tulane, 9.5; Texas, 14.5; Drake University (Iowa),
25.7. For the 93 institutions the general average is found to be 11.9.
Disregarding other considerations, the possible efficiency increases as
the teaching ratio decreases. Since each student ordinarily has
several subjects of study and thus multiplies the number of persons
taught at a given time by each professor, an average of 50 in each
class is allowable, this number being often greatly increased for lecture
work and diminished for advanced class work. Experience has thus
shown that for good college work the average teaching ratio should
not much exceed a dozen, though lecture audiences may be limited
only by the capacity of the audience room.

There are seven or eight American universities having each an
annual income in excess of $1,000,000. Of those which are still will-
ing to retain the more modest name of college considerably more than
a dozen have incomes in excess of $100,000, and endowments in excess
of $1,000,000. Nevertheless the assignment of $200,000 as a minimum
productive endowment would cause the forfeiture of many charters.
In early manhood the writers first teaching in an incorporated institu-
tion was in a " university " having a total endowment of $25,000.
The connection was brief, and so was the life of the institution. The
legislature that granted its charter was more obliging than well in-
formed about educational standards.

A century ago such institutions as Harvard and Yale were almost
without endowment and their annual budgets were nearly limited to the
income from students' fees. But since the close of the civil war the
growth of our country in wealth has produced unprecedented change
in standards of all kinds. If the general standard of comfort in life
rises with the prosperity of those in whose hands the greater part of the
country's wealth is concentrated, the standard of college expenses may
be expected to go up in like manner. Gifts have been showered upon
institutions with favored surroundings and the ratio of total expenses
to total attendance has been steadily rising. The college that has age,
history and respectability without endowment is no longer sought by
students who are prosperous enough to attend prosperous colleges, and
its sad fate is not hard to predict.

With the growth of endowments and the enlarged scale of expendi-
ture in all institutions of learning the student's tuition fee has been
steadily becoming a smaller fraction of the cost of instruction given
him. He generally pays less than half of what he costs. Every col-

534 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

lege student is now the beneficiary of organized charity, and the self-
sustaining college is a thing of the past. The larger the number of
students the more unprofitable is the work pecuniarily, unless the
growth in attendance is accompanied by corresponding increase of
endowment to balance the excess of total annual cost over receipts from
tuition fees. In ordinary business the condition is reversed; the larger
the scale the greater are the profits possible.

From the popular business standpoint the success of a college is
more readily measured by its number of students than by the quality
of its work. So urgent is the demand for numbers that it is not un-
common to see the need for increased equipment disregarded, the
library prevented from growing and remaining stuffed with out-of-date
rubbish ; and the professors overworked. As soon as the teaching ratio
exceeds a dozen the need for increasing the teaching force becomes
imperative. This can not be done if the endowment is too small to
permit the payment of living salaries to competent assistant professors.
The most ready resource is to impose the duty of teaching upon in-
experienced young holders of scholarships, or to grant the remission of
tuition fees to selected undergraduates on condition that they perform
the function of assistants in the laboratory, the library, or the office
of the language professor. If the efficiency of these undergraduate
assistants were proportionate to their pecuniary needs, or to their will-
ingness to do their best, such procedure might have some justification.
These undergraduate names are recorded, both in the register of stu-
dents and in the faculty list, and on dividing the number of students
by this nominally enlarged faculty number the alleged teaching ratio
is brought down so as to present the appearance of efficiency. The
public is misled and the college made to appear stronger than is
warranted by the facts.

If objection is urged against what has just been set forth, the ready
reply is that the only way to impress the public and to attract bene-
factions is to grow rapidly and let the public know it. The resort to
cheap labor in employing inexperienced undergraduates for assistants,
and including them in calculating the published teaching ratio, is to be
regretted ; but it is locally deemed a less serious evil than any check in
the rate of growth, even if the endowment fund remains stationary. It
is urged that this course is necessitated by the sharpness of competition
for students; that catalogue statements must be interpreted liberally,
because competitors disregard their printed entrance requirements;
that many preparatory schools do not give four years of high-school
work, and hence the colleges must adapt themselves to this condition.
Some school principals reply that they are anxious to give the fourth
year of work, but can not retain their pupils because the colleges
admit these as special students; and articulation between school and
college, though most desirable, is thus impossible. The inevitable

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION 535

result is loss of confidence, on the part of these schools, in the disposi-
tion of college authorities to deal justly or consistently with them.
Rapid growth is indeed desirable, but growth of the faculty is quite
as important as growth of the student body. If faculty growth is im-
possible then the standard of admission should be raised, and the
severity of examinations increased, until the student body is cut down
to such dimensions that an equitable teaching ratio is recovered. This
necessity is fundamental. A reputation for thoroughness, for strict
accordance between profession and practise, is better than large num-
bers. The faculty should be limited to trained specialists, and the
students naturally expect instruction from teachers of more maturity
than can be expected from those who are members of the student body.
There can be no reasonable objection to the employment of student-
assistants if their responsibility is limited enough and no use of their
names is made by including these in the published list of apparently
responsible instructors. To quote from the second annual report of
the Carnegie Foundation (p. 18) :

The instructing staff includes every person giving regular instruction in
the institution except undergraduate assistants. These latter manifestly should
not be counted in the teaching force even when they give some teaching. They
are primarily college students.

For colleges whose feeding schools are largely compelled to limit
themselves to three years of high-school work an abrupt change to the
standard of the New York law is very difficult, if not impossible. If
honestly carried out, the change necessitates great loss in numbers.
The natural resource for aid is to secure a rise of standard in the local
high school, which is in no way subordinate to the college and has
no representation in its catalogue. A student coming with defective
preparation may resort to this school until the full entrance require-
ments are fulfilled. Many applicants would undoubtedly be lost to the
college on account of unwillingness to continue in the high school, but
this is the price that has to be paid for standardization. Within a
few years there will be improvement for the college, in both numbers
and quality, due to the advance of standard. In Virginia the im-
provement in high schools during the last ten years has been very
marked, and their reactive effect on the colleges is distinctly recog-
nizable.

Among the most insidious of the evils in colleges that strive for
numbers is the indiscriminate admission of special students, and of
students on certificate from so-called accredited high schools which are
not subjected to inspection. The theory of accrediting is that the
school gives its certificate of graduation only to students who have
successfully completed the full period of four years, with final examina-
tions quite equal to the entrance examinations of the best colleges. The
student takes examination on all his subjects immediately after study-

536 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ing them, under conditions to which he is accustomed, and not under
the harassing stress of a college entrance test. The work of the college
examining board is thus greatly reduced, and the responsibility for
the student's possible failure is borne by those who have taught him and
have deliberately vouched for him. The school is included in a special
published list only after careful inspection by the college authorities
or by a state official. If its pupils fail to maintain themselves credit-
ably after admission to college the school is dropped from the accredited
list, with danger to the principal, who may be displaced on the ground
of incompetence if he is the head of a public school. Such displace-
ment has been produced more than once in the northwest. If these
conditions are fulfilled there is little ground for complaint, except that
the applicant for admission does not take a general review of all his
work before entering college, and hence he has forgotten much of what
was once studied. On this account the formal entrance examination
is estimated to require about a year more of work than entrance by
certificate.

But in some parts of our country, notably the southern and south-
western states, inspection of accredited schools is almost unknown. For
one college probably an accredited school is merely a school that can
furnish students, and admission by certificate serves the convenient
purpose of removing responsibility from the college authorities without
fixing it anywhere. The president knows his own interests, and avoids
expressing adverse criticism if a student admitted is found badly pre-
pared, because the principal may be offended and may advise his pupils
to go to another college. The principal of M. Academy finds young
A, who is a good athlete, determined to quit school and get into some
college team. He knows that a certain college is urgently in need of
athletes and not exacting about entrance requirements. He gives to A
a certificate which is accepted on sight, and no questions are asked.
The football season is better than usual, but A fails in the first examina-
tion season and drops out. Nobody is held blameworthy, and M.
Academy is encouraged to send more athletes whenever these can be
secured. It is not deemed important that four years of solid prepara-
tion should be insisted upon, but this would be very acceptable if an
entering athlete comes with such an unusual qualification. Even if he
has no perceptible preparation he may be admitted as a special student,
whose name helps to swell the registry list. One such is known to have
entered at the beginning of the baseball season, going off with the team
on the day after registration. On his return, when asked what were
his subjects of study, the sober reply was, "Latin, economics and
academics." Neither the professor of Latin nor of ecenomics ever
formed his acquaintance, and the professor of academics could not be
found. But all entrance requirements had been fulfilled for admission
to spherics, if this name be applied to ball play. The obvious moral is

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION 537

that no special student should be allowed membership in an athletic
team. The mere fact of such membership is presumptive evidence that
he is a special fraud.

The criticisms expressed in the present discussion are the outcome
of observation, conversation and correspondence extended through a
number of years. They are applicable, at least in part, to a variety
of institutions, no one of which is here singled out as a special object
of attack, either directly or by implication. The facts are well known
to many who are engaged in the work of college education, and there
is no wish here to individualize. One of the worst causes of their
existence has been the all-pervading pressure of intercollegiate athletics.
An institution with few professors and many students, which has much
ambition for athletic reputation and therefore has admitted athletes
with little discrimination, is confronted with an embarrassing choice of
alternatives. It is well established that the average scholarship of
athletic teams is low. Those who openly contend that a high standard
of scholarship is preferable to a high standard of athletics are exposed
to the danger of unpopularity among students, and perhaps- among
others. Unwelcome criticism based on known facts may be deemed
inconsiderate or in bad taste, but evils are rarely ever rectified by ignor-
ing them.

About a thousand American institutions of learning are said to
have been chartered as colleges, universities and technical schools,
or at least permitted to call themselves by such names. There is no
hope that fraud will cease to be practised among them, for every one
of them is an index of local civilization, and legislatures are generally
willing to incorporate colleges whose standards suit their constituencies.
But a hopeful road to improvement is found if every legislature can be
induced to follow the example of New York, settling by statute the
conditions to be fulfilled for the issuance of a charter of incorporation.
Every such charter should be granted for a limited period, such as ten
years, and all charters should be revoked if the institutions holding
them are unable to meet the requirements of the law. The strong
institutions would not be affected, and would have no difficulty in
securing decennial renewals. Charters now in existence can not legally
be affected, but no new applications for charters would be made with the
plea that these are intended to meet future expectations rather than
present conditions. It is not to be expected that the law for Virginia
or California would be the same as for New York or Florida ; but the
valuable gain would be the establishment of a definite standard in
every state of the union, while the usual condition now is that of no
standard whatever. The crying evil is false pretense, the assumption
of misleading names, the claim to excellences that do not exist.

In contrast with the New York standard may be mentioned a cer-
tain " university " in Florida. Its catalogue in 1903 presented a

538 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

faculty list of 69. Of the 450 students 6 were in the kindergarten
course, 35 in the primary department, 141 in the school of music,
58 in the college of liberal arts — doubtless very liberal — and 210
scattered through other departments of less importance. This fortu-
nate university " received its charter from the Legislature of the
State of Florida." Of its faculty " the majority have pursued graduate
courses in American or European Universities " and are " Christian men
and women " ; hence it would be uncharitable to think that good work
is not done. In the mathematical courses the work offered includes
" osculation, roulettes, Jacobians, gamma functions, various volutions
of cubics and quartics, homographic division, reciprocal polars, conic
invariants, and covariants."

The national pure food law has lately mitigated the evils of false
pretense in the sale of food and drugs. We are in need of similar
protection against those who secure charters for universities with
kindergarten departments. The chief function of these universities is
to nullify the meaning of college degrees.

In the second annual report of the Carnegie Foundation the presi-
dent, Dr. Pritchett, says (p. 37) :

Some thoroughgoing financial statement of investments, annual receipts
and expenditures should be required by law of all chartered institutions. There
is the same reason for a college to exhibit in a business-like way its financial
history as for any business concern; and every institution should do this as a
matter of good faith.

Probably the mere possession of a charter from the state might
be considered sufficient reason for the annual rendition of such a
report to the state superintendent of education. He would naturally
publish a comparative summary for the different institutions thus
represented. For the larger institutions the treasurer's report is always
printed and is subject to inspection by those who may be specially
interested in it. The financial statement is summarized by each
treasurer according to his own plan. Probably it might be best for
a common plan to be used by all institutions in the same state. Of late
years there has been so much criticism of " bought patronage " that it
would be wise for each institution to publish the total amount remitted
from students' fees without mentioning the name of any beneficiary.
The impersonality of such a statement removes all reasonable objection
to such publication.

In addition to its financial statement it would perhaps be very
desirable that every college should be subject to examination in such
matters as the maintenance of its professed standards of admission and
graduation. No detailed investigation of this kind would be possible
without treading on delicate ground. It has been suggested that this
function might be delegated to a state commission; but the intrusion
of politics would be a serious danger, probably nullifying the benefits

COLLEGE STANDARDIZATION 539

sought, even if the facts were attainable. In such matters there is
probably no resource but the assurance that the reputation of the in-
stitution is obliged in time to suffer if its dealings with the public are
not what the public wants. If a high standard of admission is pro-
fessed and violated, students are quick to detect the fact and to
circulate their impressions; and no prying is needed to learn what is
generally thought to be the truth. They are the most wide awake
and relentless critics that the college can have, and they are more
efficient than catalogues, bulletins or commissions in determining the
public estimate of its character.

No national law for the protection of genuine educational institu-
tions can be secured, because the control of education is not among the
political powers delegated to congress by the constitution of the United
States. The case in America is quite different from that in Germany,
where professors are commissioned by the imperial minister of educa-
tion. But within the last few years a national agency of great im-
portance has been brought into existence by the organization of the
Carnegie Foundation. The Carnegie board has adopted the New York
law as an initial aid in classifying the American educational institu-
tions that seek to secure the benefits of the foundation. The grant-
ing of retiring pensions to those who have grown old in the work of
college teaching is an uplift that benefits the general cause of educa-
tion quite as much as the individual beneficiaries of the fund. The
annual reports and bulletins of this board have been among the most
important contributions to educational progress that have ever been
published in this country. In a study of the financial status of the
professor in America and in Germany the data were secured by which
an illuminating comparison is made between about 160 of our leading
educational institutions, including at least two thirds of all those to
which the name of college, university or technical school is properly
applicable. Although the first wish of the donor was that the fund
should be limited to institutions that are not under the legal control
of church or state, this limitation has been interpreted with the utmost
liberality. The fund has been enlarged to include state institutions of
high standard. A college, originally sectarian, may retain with its
denomination a relation of " traditional friendship and sympathy, but
not one of control." About sixty institutions are already on the ac-
cepted list, and others are striving to throw aside denominational
shackles or to improve up to the standardized requirements. To at-
tain an end by causing competitors to strive for a prize is better than
to make them obey what they may deem a repressive law, even if the
law is judicious. The Carnegie Foundation is quietly preparing all the
states of the union for improvement in their laws about the chartering
of colleges, and it is to-day the most effective agency that tends toward
college standardization.

540 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ASPECTS OP MODERN BIOLOGY1

BY Professor T. D. A. COCKERKLL

UNIVEESITY OF COLORADO

DURING- the latter part of August, last year, the International
Zoological Congress met at Boston. This circumstance was not
very widely heralded by the press, nor did it make an impression on
the public mind at all comparable to that ordinarily produced by any
serious crime. Nevertheless, it was an event of the first importance,
this gathering of the zoological forces of all civilized countries to take
stock of the progress of the science and exchange fraternal greetings.

To present any summary of the things said and done at that meet-
ing is neither desirable nor possible at the present time; but it may be
useful to consider what it all meant — where zoology now stands, and
what it stands for.

Most typical, perhaps, of the whole trend of zoological thought was
the address of Professor William Bateson, of Cambridge University.
It dealt with the subject of genetics; the genesis of things, cells, indi-
viduals, species. It told of sequences actually observed rather than
contemporaneous facts arranged in rows. The methods advocated were
experimental, the range of investigation was the whole field of life.

At the same time, the geneticologist did not refuse to recognize the
value of the other methods of research. Said Professor Bateson:
" When morphology was a new idea, everything was sacrificed to its
pursuit. Physiology, systematics, all were discarded as useless lumber.
Let us not repeat that short-sighted mistake. In the wider survey
which we are attempting we shall need all these things. If we are to
understand rightly the phenomena of specific difference — to take that
problem only — we shall be glad of anything that the systematist can
tell us, and of many deductions of pure physiology."

The old natural history is having a new birth, with new hopes and
aspirations, but with the same unity of interest and of purpose. With
the growth of science, specialization was necessary and desirable. Yet
as time went on and zoology not only grew apart from botany, but the
various branches of zoology seemed to have different languages, it
appeared as if a tower of Babel would result. Even the systems of
nomenclature for genera and species, ostensibly the same throughout,
came to differ appreciably in different departments; and the various

1 Lecture delivered before the Scientific Society of the University of Colo-
rado, January 20, 1908.

ASPECTS OF MODERN BIOLOGY 541

specialists were so segregated that they were scarcely or not aware of
the fact. The grouping was sometimes according to classes, orders
and families; sometimes according to physiological or morphological
aspects of things; but everywhere it seemed that narrowness increased,
and that broad conceptions of the Darwinian type were fading away.

The new attitude typified by Professor Bateson not only unifies the
branches of zoology, but makes zoology and botany one. Greedy for
the results of special research in every department, it yet makes all
serve a common end. So far from despising or discouraging the most
minute enquiries in limited fields, it gives them all a new purpose and
new meaning, as contributory to the philosophy of life, which is, indeed,
the sum of all philosophy. We find ourselves at that meeting point
of monism and dualism, of synthesis and analysis, where the electric
spark of human understanding always has had and always will have
its birth.

Professor Forei, of Switzerland, in a recently issued book, has called
attention to the difference between mathematical and ordinary reason-
ing, including in the latter the methods necessarily employed in the
biological sciences. In mathematics, we start with certain postulated
facts, and given definite methods of procedure, climb up a ladder of
argument, each part of which is supported by the one below. An error
at any point vitiates the whole piece of work ; while, if there is no error,
the result is said to be demonstrated beyond dispute. Systems of logic
have been constructed in the same manner, and such processes have
found great favor with lawyers and theologians whose main purpose
has been to support theories rather than ascertain the truth.

In the natural sciences, as in the every-day affairs of life, the method
is entirely different. Desiring to determine the state of things at any
point in time or space, we converge upon it all the pertinent evidence
we can secure, and form a judgment upon the collection. We do not
profess to exclude the possibility of error; rarely do we feel so well
supplied with facts that others are not welcome. Those of us who have
worked long among biological facts have so often made mistakes, or
discovered the mistakes of others, that we have become somewhat more
humble-minded and less assertive than we used to be. This humility,
however, is coupled with a keen sense of the tremendous weight of
evidence in favor of certain conclusions. We do not assert that we
must be right, but we at least demand an equivalent load on the other
side of the scales before changing our opinion : a demand not readily
comprehended by those to whom our body of facts is invisible.

In Colorado to-day we find existing many millions of individuals of
animals and plants, presenting extreme diversities of form, color and
size, and distributed in certain particular ways. It is the business of
the naturalist to find out the how and why of all this, so far as he can.

542 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Before he attempts to formulate general laws, he must collect his facts,
and examine them in detail. He goes out, perhaps, and gathers a
flower: let us say the blue flax, Linum lewisii. The very name tells
him something of its history; it was called lewisii in honor of Meri-
wether Lewis, of the famous Lewis and Clark expedition. It has been
known since 1814, and has been collected by many botanists. Turn-
ing to the published records, it appears that it has been found as far
south as the mountains of Mexico; as far north as Alaska. It does
not occur in the eastern part of the continent, north or south. Among
the native plants of America it has only one close ally, a smaller plant
called Linum pratense — we may call it the prairie flax — which occupies
open ground east of the Rocky Mountains from British America to
Texas and again appears in Arizona.

In Europe and Siberia, however, there are closely similar plants;
so like our Linum lewisii that for many years our plant was not sepa-
rated. Furthermore, there are various other species of Linum or flax
in the Old World, some of them strikingly different from ours. These,
some with blue, some with red flowers, are more closely related to one
another than to the yellow-flowered flaxes, which have lately been placed
in a separate genus.

From all these facts, it is permissible to assume (in the absence of
contrary evidence) that the genus Linum, in the restricted sense,
belongs especially to and probably originated in the temperate regions
of the Old World. This opinion is fortified by the discovery of a
species (Linum oligocenicum Conw.) in European amber of Tertiary
age. We imagine, then, the true flaxes originating perhaps in central
Europe or Asia, segregating into various distinct species, and finally,
perhaps during the Miocene period, invading North America. From
the present distribution of the plant, we should naturally infer that it
came by way of Bering Strait, not across the Atlantic; and from its
slight divergence from the Old World stock we should think of it as
a comparatively recent immigrant. The prairie flax, occupying a lesser
area, and not so similar to the Old World type, is regarded as an
offshoot from Lewis's flax, adapted to life on the prairies, the former
occupying the mountains.

Leaving the flax for the moment, our naturalist hunts about and
picks up a small shining cylindrical shell known as Cochlicopa lubrica.
This snail is distributed widely over the continent, from Canada to
Alabama, and west to the Pacific coast region. It is very constant in
its characters, but in a few states has given rise to a variety or closely
allied form of larger size called morseana. There are no other Amer-
ican allies.

So far, there is no apparent clue to its history ; but when we turn to
the eastern hemisphere we find a very different state of affairs. In the

ASPECTS OF MODERN BIOLOGY 543

regions surrounding the Mediterranean there are dozens of species of
shells of the same general type, while C. Ivbrica itself is widely spread
over the whole of Europe. Moreover, this species lubrica, so constant
with us, is there much more variable, so that nine varieties have been
found in the British Islands alone.

The presumption is, then, that the snail, like the flax, is of Old
World origin, and represents a comparatively recent invasion from the
ancient area of distribution. This is supported by the occurrence of
allied but distinct genera in Europe and adjacent regions.

Further investigation reveals hundreds of other cases similar to
those of the snail and the flax, and so it becomes more and more prob-
able, finally practically certain, that we owe a considerable part of
our fauna and flora to the immigration of animals and plants which
has reached nearly their present condition on the other side of the
world. We ourselves, of course, belong in this category.

Having arrived at this point of view, the subject must not be
dropped, but should be attacked from another side. If America has
been overrun by Old World types in comparatively recent times, it
should be possible to get some idea of the time of these invasions by
examining the fossils of various strata. Unfortunately, the paleon-
tological record is very imperfect, but it yet yields facts of prime impor-
tance. We find that certain types, living in Colorado to-day, have lived
here with only slight modifications for many thousands, perhaps some
millions, of years. Others are totally absent, so far as our information
goes, from the older Tertiary strata, but negative evidence of this
kind must always be received with reservations. Others, to-day only
found in Asia, Africa, Europe or South America, were conspicuous
members of the Colorado biota. Here we find facts which throw doubt
on some of our previous conclusions. The Equidae, or horse family,
have to-day numerous members in Africa and some in Asia, but none
whatever in America. Yet we have evidence from the fossils that there
were formerly horses in America, and that they actually evolved on
this continent. The disease-carrying tsetse flies are to-day exclusively
African and might well be thought a peculiar product of that conti-
nent, but a species has turned up in the Colorado Miocene! So with
other cases, all tending to show that it is not safe to assume without
question that the original center of a group is the region where it is
now most abundant and varied. We do not thereupon decide that the
evidence from present distribution is valueless ; in many more instances
it leads to exactly the same conclusions as might be derived from the
fossils; but we recognize the importance of supplementing one kind
of fact with another, and considering all together when forming con-
clusions. When using the paleontological evidence, we are struck by
the differences between the fossils of successive strata and are always

544 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

inclined to regard these as indicating widely different periods. Here
the facts of present distribution serve to make us hesitate. Different
altitudes, different soils, different conditions of moisture and so forth,
produce to-day very distinct sets of animals and plants, even in the
same immediate region. Or, if we are dealing with marine forms, a
littoral and a deep-sea fauna of precisely the same age would be very
different; indeed it is doubtless not an exaggeration to say that the
present shallow-water fauna of the Atlantic coast resembles the shallow-
water fauna of Middle Tertiary times much more than the deep-sea
fauna of to-day. Considerations of this sort have led careful paleon-
tologists to attempt to estimate the climatic and other conditions sur-
rounding the subjects of their investigations; thus, for instance, Dr.
Matthew, in discussing the Tertiary mammals of northeastern Colo-
rado, concludes that one series represents a plains or prairie fauna, the
other a forest one. These are not of the same age, but the difference
between them is clearly to be attributed to environmental conditions
as well as the lapse of time.

Thus in the course of our enquiry we come back to the modern biota,
and find it necessary to ascertain as accurately as possible what condi-
tions permit the existence and migration of the several species.
Neither the blue flax nor the snail exists everywhere within the region
which we said, in general terms, that they occupied. The flax occurs
at various altitudes, up to 10,000 feet, but always in more or less open
places, in dry or at least not very moist soil. The snail also lives at
different altitudes, but in moist places under vegetation. Thus,
although when plotted on a map the ranges of the two would appear
to largely coincide, it is probable that they never, or almost never,
actually exist together. While spreading over enormous areas, they
have picked their way, as it were, from one suitable spot to another,
showing thereby how closely they are dependent upon a particular set
of conditions. In a general way, mountains may be said to favor the
spread of both, and for either the desert is an impassable barrier.

When we have ascertained the necessary conditions of moisture,
heat, light, etc., we have not nearly solved the problem. Very impor-
tant, in nearly every case, is the living environment. In the case of
the flax, we know that it is very injuriously affected by an orange rust
(Uredo lini (Pers.) Schum.), which extends practically throughout its
range. This rust infests not only the blue flax, but other species as
well, including some of the yellow ones. Consequently, when two
geographical groups of flax plants meet, whether they are of the same
species or diverse, there is always a possibility that one will convey the
rust to the other, supposing that they are not both already infested.
The same sort of thing is true of diseases of animals, as many races
of men have found to their destruction, upon mingling with the white

ASPECTS OF MODERN BIOLOGY 545

man. The competition between allied species is thus often indirect,
one destroying another by conveying to it some disease.

The flax is visited by various bees, which I have studied and
recorded; these carry the pollen from flower to flower, and thus aid in
pollination. Whether the necessary bees are always present, is not yet
known; but their presence in numbers must be a favorable factor, and
thus an important element in the living environment.

In the case of the snail, although it is so common, we know little
or nothing about its natural enemies.

The more we study living creatures the more we become impressed
by the complicated conditions necessary for the preservation of the
higher forms, and the possibilities of local or complete extermination.
As we determine these more accurately, we feel able to return to the
fossils, and from them restore the past in much more detail than at
first seemed possible. If a snail or a slug crossed from Asia to America
we presume that it not only found continuous, or nearly continuous,
land, but also that it did not traverse any desert. The path of migra-
tion of the blue flax was not, it is virtually certain, across a lowland
region or swamp. Making all allowances for what are called acci-
dental means of transportation, it ought to be possible to infer some-
thing about the pathway of a considerable number of species.

In all of these researches, success and failure are inextricably
mixed, at least as regards the details. In no case can we gather all
the pertinent facts; our knowledge of even the commonest species is
very deficient. Yet, when all is taken together, we find ourselves like
the man who said he lost on every job, but was able to make money
because of the multitude of them. The number of known species,
living and extinct, is enormous, and the data we have gathered, when
suitably sorted and arrayed, will point to many definite conclusions.
More especially is there reason to hope for good results to be derived
from studies which past investigations have merely suggested and shown
to be possible.

As a matter of history, as food for the imagination, it is interesting
enough to watch and take part in the reconstruction of the past, espe-
cially when we are able to do this with a reasonable degree of com-
pleteness, as at Florissant in Colorado, or (Eningen in Germany. Much
more, however, may come of these investigations. The problems of
evolution, the intricate questions of heredity and variation, may be
answered in part by such means as I have described.

The experimentalists, represented by Bateson, De Vries, Tower,
MacDougal, Davenport and many others, have ascertained that what
appear to be new species or races may arise suddenly by a process
termed mutation. It even appears that in certain cases this process
may be brought about by artificial means, such as differences of humid-

VOL. LXXIII. — 35.

546 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ity, or certain substances in solution, supplied at the proper moments.
The obvious suggestion is, that species are more readily modified than
is commonly admitted ; and that in particular they are likely to be
so modified on the borders of the territory they occupy, where they
continually impinge on unaccustomed environments.

To show that this is possible is a most important step; but we still
have to enquire how far has it actually occurred? In the case of our
flax, we have an excellent example of the production of a new form on
the periphery of the old, permitting expansion through modification;
but only one such derivative seems to have been produced. In other
instances, as the experimentalists have shown, the apparent instances
are illusor}^ the supposed geographical segregates being merely exam-
ples of a single type variously modified by the direct action of the
environment. The most striking evidence of this sort has been fur-
nished by Beebe, who has produced in certain birds, by means of humid-
ity, more difference that has been accepted as sufficient for the dis-
tinction of subspecies. Leaving out all such phenomena, we still have
a great series of closely allied species, with undoubtedly inherited char-
acters, presenting the same kinds of differences as have been observed
to arise by mutation, sometimes apparently as the direct result of par-
ticular stimuli. What do these phenomena mean in the practical work-
ing out of evolutionary processes?

If we know in a general way the age of particular types and the
extent of their migrations, we can begin to form an idea of their prac-
tical mutability. The vertebrate paleontologist finds evidence of re-
markable changes within the Tertiary period, but even he has to admit
that the course of evolution is not so rapid as it might seem ; that new
forms suddenly appearing must surely have migrated from other
regions, where they doubtless underwent a slow process of development.
Central Asia, we must now think, must have been the home of various
groups, and will one day yield fossils of surpassing interest. Africa,
once seeming so barren paleontologically, has of late begun to yield
her treasures.

The student of fossil invertebrates finds the process of change to
have been, in the majority of cases, extraordinarily slow ; and the paleo-
botanist finds it slower still. It is not that plenty of specific forms
were not produced, but the generic and higher types were so little sus-
ceptible to change. A wrong impression has been produced, even
among the vertebrates, by the presence in different strata of remarkable
extinct groups. No doubt two or three species of elephants walking
about in our mountain-parks would give a strikingly different appear-
ance to the Colorado landscape; but the time since this actually occurred
is, geologically speaking, very inconsiderable, and does not represent
any great step in the process of evolution. The more I study the

ASPECTS OF MODERN BIOLOGY 547

insects and plants of the Florissant Miocene, the more convinced I
become that, speaking broadly, the extinct genera and higher groups
are not the ancestors of any now living, but represent types which have
failed, like the mammoth ; while the real representatives of the modern
biota show that there has been singularly little forward evolution in
the course of perhaps a million years. Many of these are totally extinct
in Colorado, but live elsewhere; thus the redwood differs little from
that of California, while the wonderfully delicate and fragile Halter,
belonging to a family no longer living in North America, is closely
related to a living species of Persia.

Hence the experimental researches of De Vries and others, proving
that mutation is a relatively common phenomenon among plants,
prove perhaps too much. If change is so easy, why so little change,
and that in the face of a radical change in temperature and moisture?
It seems, indeed, that " elementary species " have always been produced
in greater or less abundance, but by a sort of oscillation less related to
the forward march of evolutionary activity than we might at first sup-
pose. The ability to produce heritable segregates, especially in the
face of adverse or strange conditions, is clearly of advantage, as giving
new chances for spread or survival. Thus in the long run the tendency
to break into " elementary species " would in many cases be favored
by natural selection, without any necessity for each one of these, or
even the majority, being directly related to a particular environment.
There is no reason, apparently, why this should not continue for ages
as an oscillation-process, a segregation in space rather than in time,
producing thousands of species without overstepping the limits of the
general group, or perhaps advancing at all in complexity. The mol-
luscan genus Ostrea, the oysters, may be taken as an example of this;
indeed, the modern oysters scarcely do justice to their Cretaceous ances-
tors. When it was generally held that species were created by divine
fiat, it naturally appeared that he who should explain the origin of
species might be given the rest without further charge. We are coming
to see that there are diverse problems involved, and while the whole
matter may well be locked up in the evolution of any single species, or
indeed of any single cell, we begin to doubt whether we really possess
the key.

Speaking philosophically, progressive or orthogenetic evolution —
the existence of which no naturalist has any ground for doubting — must
have a cause external to itself. All probability favors the idea that
this did not operate once for all, but has continued in action throughout
the ages. It may be found, perhaps, in the susceptibility of the hered-
itary mechanism to environmental influences of particular kinds, the
nature of which remains for the present obscure. These reactions
would fall under the operation of natural selection from the very

548 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

beginning; thus a too susceptible organism would quickly be thrown
out of gear and would perish; a too conservative one, unless adapted
to practically unchanging types of life, would equally perish. There
would be a certain optimum susceptibility, which would be preserved,
and would differ for different groups. More than this, certain kinds
of susceptibility would be favored, and being once developed might,
like bad habits, become harmful through the accumulation of results,
resulting in extinction. Thus rapid evolution would usually go with
a high percentage of failures, and a considerable number of grotesque
forms, such as we see among the vertebrates. According to this view,
the initiation of any evolutionary trend, except the oscillatory move-
ments above described, would be exceedingly slow, and quite beyond
the reach of experimental methods, other than those furnished by
nature in the course of ages; hence, as Osborn has indicated, the great
importance of paleontological researches. At the same time, while the
processes which change the fundamental character of animals and
plants may be too slow to observe, it is not to be doubted that very
much light may be obtained by the experimental method, if only by
way of showing us what it is that has been evolved — a thing we seem
not to have clearly known. If the control of orthogenetic changes is
reserved, as it were, for the gods — and we, doubtless, should only make
a mess of it — we may be well satisfied if we can take advantage of the
oscillation processes, which experimental researches are showing to be
far more extensive and much easier to control than had previously been
suspected.

LOYALTY 549

LOYALTY1

By Professor JOHN C. BRANNER

STANFORD UNIVERSITY

WHAT little I shall say is about personal loyalty. It is due
myself that I should exjflain that the greater part of this
address was written more than two years ago, and especially for my
own students, who frequently have to meet certain ethical problems in
connection with their professional work. Within a few months there
has appeared a book upon loyalty by a distinguished philosopher2 who
deals with the subject in its broadest and best sense. I make haste,
therefore, to say that I do not attempt to discuss the subject in any
large sense. What I have to suggest is not spoken with the authority
of the philosopher or with the philosopher's subtle reasoning. I can
only give my personal impressions and views of the subject without
regard to its philosophic bearings. I should add, however, that in
Professor Boyce's lectures you will find ably dealt with the many
problems that naturally arise in connection with this subject. And
whether you agree with all he says or not, you will find his book one
of the most helpful and inspiring that has ever been jDublished in our
country.

I must premise also that what I say is said in a spirit of perfect
frankness and on general principles, and has no reference to any par-
ticular occasions, circumstance or persons. The subject seems to be
especially worthy of your attention just now because the habit of
loyalty is one that may be cultivated during your student life; it cer-
tainly will not spring into full-fledged development at some future
time when it happens to be wanted.

I am often asked about points of practical professional ethics, and
it is chiefly in connection with this phase of the subject that I have
thought that it would probably interest you. Loyalty is going to be
an important factor in the making of your character, and even, if you
care to look at it in that light, an asset in your profession, or in your
business.

Perhaps I lay a little more stress upon this point because I come
of a people who habitually place a high estimate upon every phase of
loyalty. We seem indeed to have exaggerated or distorted ideas of

1 An address to the student body of Stanford University, September 9, 1908.
2 " The Philosophy of Loyalty," by Josiah Royce, New York, 1908.

55o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

loyalty, and we rather overdo the thing at times in the southern states
where we keep up family feuds one generation after another, and vote
with one political party all our lives through thick and thin. In his
story of " Ked Kock," Thomas Nelson Page expresses the more serious
southerner's view when he says of the soldier, " It is loyalty, not success,
that is knightly" (p. 145).

Without making any fine distinctions, I start with the proposition
that loyalty is the most valuable attainment, if we may call it an
attainment, or the most valuable trait of character, if that is a better
name, that any man or any people can have in this life. And I chal-
lenge any one who questions this theory to put the matter to any test
he chooses to apply from the highest moral standards down to the
lowest commercial ones.

Now loyalty has to do with our relations to principles, to organiza-
tions, to communities and to persons. I would have it distinctly under-
stood that I regard loyalty to a right principle as the highest type of
loyalty, and the kind that must always be most satisfactory in the end.
Practical illustrations of the importance of the professional forms of
loyalty are constantly falling under our attention, and it is chiefly of
these that I shall speak. These lower types consist in loyalty to organi-
zations of various kinds and to individuals. As many people insist
on the commercial standards of values let us see, if we can, what
business men think of it.

When you get through your university studies and go out into the
affairs of life, if you become employers of other men, you will lay great
stress on the loyalty of those you have about you. You may not put
it to yourselves in just this form, but if you are wise, you will none
the less be influenced as much, or even more, by the loyalty of your
employees than by any other one quality they may have. You will say
of every man you engage : " If I can't trust this man to think of and
work for my interests, I don't want him around, no matter how skilful
he may be in his particular line of work."

If you seek employment under others you must surely count on
having to meet this test yourselves, for this will be the unfailing
attitude of your employers. And the more important the position you
are to occupy the more weight will be given to this particular trait of
your character.

The matter simply reduces itself to this, that a man who is not
loyal is not wanted by anybody for anything.

In a business like that of mining, consulting geologist and the like,
what do you suppose a man would be worth who was not loyal to the
interests of his employer ? How long would any one keep an employee
who was not loyal? How long ought he to be kept?

Let us take a simple case : Imagine a man employed to examine

LOYALTY 551

and report on a given piece of property who sells or turns over to
outside parties information belonging to his employer, or who uses it
for his own personal ends. Can anything be farther from the object
for which men are employed, more base, more dishonorable ?

Let us have the opinions of men of wide experience. I once recom-
mended a young man for the position of assistant to one of the leaders
of science in this countiy, who wrote back to make further inquiries,
and wound up with this : " I want a man who is orderly, interested in
the work and who will devote himself to my interests. If be will not
devote himself to my interests I don't want him, no matter how com-
petent he may be."

Dr. Eossiter W. Eaymond, the venerable secretary of the American
Institute of Mining Engineers, a man who has perhaps had a larger,
more varied and more honorable career in connection with mining
operations in this country than any other one man, says on this
subject:3 " Loyalty commands to-day the highest price in the market: "
and he says much more to the same effect.

In one of the large banking houses of New York City this notice
is posted up in full view of prospective customers : " If you can't
cooperate, don't come round."

A few days ago I saw a letter from the manager of one of the
largest mining companies in the world which contained the following
reference to a man who had not been loyal to his employer : " I per-
sonally consider that a pick and shovel are the only instruments a man
should be allowed to use who abuses his employer's confidence."

I doubt if the man who says this would want such a person about
him even to use his pick and shovel. For if a man is not loyal, no
one trusts him, no one feels comfortable with him around, and no
one wants him at any price, or for anything.

Loyalty is so highly esteemed by most people that one is ready to
overlook slow head, slow hands and slow feet where loyalty exists, while
without it no skill or agility of mind or body makes one a desirable
employee.

In large enterprises where many men have to cooperate, the lack of
loyalty throws all the machinery of organization and administration
out of gear; nothing runs smoothly.

Employees, assistants, partners and colleagues are wanted to help,
to render service, not to hinder, to bring disorder and disorganization
into an enterprise, no matter whether that enterprise is a great in-
dustry or a small one, a club, a fraternity, an organization of any kind
whatever. No institution can long survive without the loyalty of its
members to the common interest and purposes of its organization, and
to each other.

3 Engineering and Mining Journal, June 23, 1906, p. 1199.

552 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

It may occur to you that it is too much to ask that self-respecting
men should fall down and grovel in the dirt at the feet of every selfish
dollar-chasing employer. Nothing of the sort is expected. A loyal
man can not only stand up straight, but he can stand just a little
straighter than any one else, for no one so much as he has the mind
conscious of rectitude.

You may fairly ask what is to become of loyalty when the condi-
tions make it impossible. One always has a remedy in his own hands :
he can quit, and carry with him a gentleman's self-respect, for without
that there can be no loyalty worthy of the name.

There are certain things that loyalty does not demand of us. For
example, it does not require us, in being loyal to one person, to be
disloyal to others. Environment and education often lead us to look
at things differently, and honest men may conscientiously differ, but we
are bound to respect the attitude of other people, or as Professor
Eoyce puts it, to be loyal to the loyalty of others.

Again, loyalty should not lead us into excesses that work wrong to
others. It is a common misconception of loyalty to imagine that one
must back his personal friend for anything and everything he happens
to want, regardless of whether he is fit for it, and regardless of the
rights of others. It is unnecessary to say that such an attitude is not
tenable. Loyalty to the principles of justice and right will not permit
that sort of thing.

But there are usually two parties to loyalty, especially in matters of
employment and in all organizations where there are superior officers
under their various titles or wherever the personal element enters. It
can not all be on the side of the employee or of the subordinate. The
employer, the head of the firm, the superior officer and the organization
itself owes loyalty to employees, to partners and to colleagues. And
it is this loyalty to each other that constitutes esprit de corps, that
enables organizations to pull together, to work to a common end, to act
in concert, to stand together in all things and to one big purpose.
Moreover, those who expect loyalty are bound by every sense of decency
and propriety to be worthy of loyalty, and to be loyal in return to those
of whom loyalty is expected; that is a sine qua non. No one can long
be loyal to a man who backbites, belittles or sneers at his employees
or his colleagues behind their backs.

And what I say of loyalty is true not only here among us, in our
own community, in our own country, and in our own time, but it is
equally true of every quarter of the globe and of every age.

In commending loyalty to you I am not raising any questions about
right and wrong. And even if I should raise such questions, there are,
as Professor Eoyce points out, conflicting loyalties. I suspect that
loyalty, like love, is blind. Who, when he sees his brother attacked,

LOYALTY 553

stops to ask whether his brother has the right of it? The loyal man
simply says, " We'll settle that later, but for the time being I stand
with my brother." And loyalty doesn't look to see whether the battle
is to be lost or won.

Remember too that loyalty, like charity, begins at home. When
can one see a finer sight than that of a family that stands compactly
together, helping and encouraging one another within, and defending
each other from without.

As students in this, to you, new community, I trust you will ever
remain loyal to the high resolves you bring with you, loyal to the com-
munities, the schools and the friends you have left behind, and that you
may cultivate here a new loyalty to your alma mater, to your class,
and to whatever organizations you belong, and above all loyalty to the
purposes of your education. Never lose sight of the important fact,
however, that .loyalty demands submission to the rules of your order
or organization; no properly constituted society will admit a member
who will not subscribe to its constitution and by-laws. In practise you
will not be called upon to do anything spectacular, but you will have
to impress upon yourselves the necessity of steadfastness of purpose.

And don't expect too much of anybody. We are all human, and
human frailties are in our blood and bones. Whether the object of
your loyalty to a person, an organization, a party or a principle, you
must not expect it to be perfect. None of the relations of this life are
altogether satisfactory.

As a citizen be loyal to the legitimate and reasonable interests of the
community in which you live, and you will not be found lacking in
loyalty to the country at large. It is of loyal citizens and of loyal
citizens only that great nations are made. Tyrants can not long op-
press, nor can powder and bullets conquer, a people permeated with and
true to such sentiments.

You will note that loyalty demands that you assume certain risks.
This is inevitable. Loyalty without risks must be of a pretty poor
quality. If there is anything especially pusillanimous in human nature,
anything that one instinctively despises, it is the disposition to stand
aside when there is danger to be faced, or to wait to see which side is
going to win before choosing that particular side. Take the risks and
go cheerfully forward.

Loyalty is one of the big and far-reaching virtues; it makes trust-
worthy men and great men; as a national virtue it makes a people
great. For if it is love that makes the world go round, it is loyalty
that holds the world together.

554 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE STOEY OF PROFESSOR RONTGEN'S DISCOVERY

By ELMER ELLSWORTH BURNS

CHICAGO, ILL.

THE discovery of X-rays was announced by Professor Rontgen in
December, 1895, in a communication to the Physico-medical As-
sociation of Wiirzburg. The date of the discovery is commonly thought
to be November, 1895. As a matter of fact, the first X-ray photo-
graph was made about two years before that time, and the accidental
production of this photograph was the starting point of a series of in-
vestigations which continued for more than two years before the public
announcement was made. The story was told to me by Dr. T. S.
Middleton, now a physician in Chicago, who was a research student
under Professor Rontgen during a period of four years, including the
time when the great discovery was made.

Professor Rontgen is a man who works unceasingly as a teacher and
in research, a man who brings to his students the inspiration of genius.
Like Edison, he would often forget to eat were he not reminded by
friends of his need of food.

He was working with cathode rays and, being an expert glass
blower, prepared his own tubes. He had a habit of using his lungs as
an air-pump in exhausting his tubes. Long practise had developed an
athletic pair of lungs, so that he was able in this manner, aided by the
increase in vacuum due to the electric discharge, to produce a vacuum
sufficiently high for the production of the cathode rays. The first
X-ray tube was exhausted in this way. This tube was blown to form
a large bulb at the middle and bent to form a letter S at either end.

The electrodes being at the ends, the cathode rays would have to
traverse the bends of the tube. Rontgen regarded the cathode rays as
streams of electrified particles and believed that friction would be de-
veloped as these particles streamed past the bends of the tube. He
expected this friction to result in new phenomena.

On a flat-topped desk in Professor Rontgen's private office lay an
unassorted heap of books, glass tubes, photographic plate holders,
platinum and aluminium electrodes, and what-not, such an unassorted
heap as is likely to accumulate on the desk of a busy man. In this
confusion it happened that a large book which the professor had been
reading lay on a photographic plate holder. In the book lay a key
serving as a bookmark. The use of a flat key as a bookmark is a pe-

PROFESSOR RONTGEN'S DISCOVERY 555

culiar habit of Professor Eontgems, a habit which leads often to the
finding of lost keys by shaking open the books on his desk. The pro-
fessor was working with the Crookes tube referred to above, observing
the beautiful yellowish-green fluorescence which characterized this
particular tube, when his wife came to call him to lunch. Laying the
tube, still glowing, on the book he obeyed her summons.

Now Professor Eontgen is an enthusiastic amateur photographer,
in fact out door photograph}" is his recreation. Eeturning from lunch,
he took the plate holder which had lain under the book, with other
plate holders, and made several outdoor exposures. On developing
the plates a shadow picture of a key appeared on one of them. Much
puzzled, he showed the negative to some of his students, asking them to
suggest some explanation of the mysterious key. None of their sug-
gestions proved satisfactory, and he was up early the next morning
searching for a solution of the mystery.

He determined to repeat precisely the operations of the preceding
day and, remembering the positions of the glowing tube, the book, and
the plate holder, he placed them as before, leaving them for the same
length of time as on the preceding day. On developing the plate, the
image of the key again appeared. The key was found in the book but
the mystery was not solved. Here was indeed a strange thing. Of
course it was known that the cathode rays would affect a photographic
plate, but here between the plate and the source of the rays were a book
and the hard-rubber slide of the plate holder, both of which are im-
pervious to light, and the cathode rays were confined by the walls of
the tube.

Eontgen continued his investigations and found that the rays from
his tube would penetrate other objects, but in different degrees, and be-
cause of this difference in transparency he could obtain shadow pictures
of many interesting objects.

The fluorescence of his tube suggested to him that other substances
than glass might be caused to fluoresce by the radiation from the tube.
An interesting field was opened before him. Other research was sus-
pended. Visitors were excluded, and with his research students the
work was continued. Fluorescent liquids were tested, one of the first
being a solution prepared from the horse-chestnut. The number of
fluorescent substances tested, including liquids and solids, was not less
than fifty. One of these was barium platino-cyanide, the fluorescence
in this case being caused by the newly-discovered radiation acting
through a black cardboard. Convinced by a long series of observations
of the photographic and fluorescent effects obtained from his tube that
he had discovered a new form of radiation, Professor Eontgen made
his public announcement.

In answer to my question regarding the date of the incident nar-

556 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

rated above, which marked the beginning of the great discovery, Dr.
Middleton said that he had made no effort to remember the date.
"Was it earlier than November, 1895," I asked? "Yes. It was at
least two years earlier " and, recalling some incidents to aid in fixing
to date, he continued, " It was soon after the opening of the autumn
semester. It could not have been later than October, 1893. Possibly
it was in 1892."

Professor Kontgen, being a reticent man, has not given to the world
the details of his discovery. His announcement was that of results
arranged in logical not chronological order. This narrative from an
authentic source fixes the date of the discovery of X-rays at least two
years earlier than that which is commonly accepted. Moreover, it
shows us the great German professor in the light of a man who carefully
and patiently worked out his problem to his own satisfaction before
announcing his discovery to the world.

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA 557

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA AND ITS VERTEBRATE LIFE,
WITH RESTORATIONS BY THE AUTHOR

By Dr. E. C. CASE.

ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF HISTORICAL GEOLOGY AND PALEONTOLOGY,
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

AS early as 1878 it was known that the remains of a wonderful
group of animals lay hid in the rocks of north central Texas,
that had lived their appointed time and passed away before the earth
history was half completed; since then collectors have gone into this
region more or less regularly, contending in the early days with hostile
Indians and later with bad water and difficult transportation. Since
1895 the author has made several trips, gathering vertebrate fossils for
the University of Chicago and the American Museum of Natural
History in New York. The descriptions below are based on these
collections and those of earlier workers.

Perhaps one can get the best idea of the age of the rocks and the
fossils by remembering that they were laid down in the portion of
geological time called the Permian age, just after the period of the coal
deposition. Reckoning the completed history of the earth as about
one hundred millions of years, these rocks and fossils are from thirty
to forty millions of years old. At the beginning of the Carboniferous
age, when the coal was laid down, the part of the continent that is
now called the Mississippi- Valley was covered by a wide sea, but
during this age there was a progressive shallowing which culminated
in the elevation of the Appalachian mountains in the east and the
appearance of dry land from the new mountains on the east to the
forebears of the Rockies on the west.

The appearance of dry land was at once the cause of the develop-
ment of the wonderful group of Permian animals and the reason that
so few are preserved to us, for it is only when the hard parts of animals
or plants are buried in some water-soaked layer of the earth or are
covered by water that they can be petrified and preserved. If they re-
main exposed to the air they are soon destroyed; so, of the skeletons
of the thousands of buffalo left lying on the plains but a few years ago,
there remain to-day but a few rotten and frost-split horns and bones.
Undoubtedly in the muddy banks and bars of the rivers there are skele-
tons undergoing the slow process of petrifaction which will preserve
them to be the chief treasure of some future museum. And so be-
cause of the land conditions which prevailed over so much of the

558 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

continent the record of the great land fauna of the Permian age is
very faulty and imperfect. It is only in some exceptional place where
large quantities of bones were swept together under favorable condi-
tions that they have been preserved and such an exceptional depository
occurs in northern Texas.

When the Appalachian Mountains were raised an extension of
their southern end reached across what are now Arkansas and Okla-
homa, terminating in the Wichita Mountains in western Oklahoma.
North of this range rose a broad upland reaching from the Rockies
to the Appalachians and to the Canadian line on the north ; south of
the mountains a shallow sea reached nearly to their base, and some

Fig. 1. View in Willbatcger County, Texas, showing the character of the

beds in which the bones occur.

great rivers, from the mountains and the uplands, poured their flood
waters into the sea and built up a great delta. The remains of animals
which haunted the banks of the rivers were swept into them in time
of flood and carried out to be deposited in the delta, which covered most
of what is now Wichita, Archer and Willbarger counties in the state of
Texas. Naturally most of the remains which found their way into the
streams were already fragmentary, as they had rotted on the bank and
been torn by predatory animals, but in their course to the sea they were
farther disintegrated, so that, rolled by the rivers and beaten by the
waves, they sank to their burial as little more than water- worn frag-
ments ; ends of limb bones, isolated vertebra? and broken skulls which do

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA 559

little more than tantalize the student with the hints of new forms and
new relationships which can not be verified. In some places these water-
worn fragments are so thick upon the ground that they can literally
be shoveled up by the wagon load. In some rare instances the bodies
of animals found their way unharmed into the water and, distended
by gases of decomposition, floated far and uninjured until they came
to rest on some mud flat beyond the reach of sharks or other predatory
animals. Such skeletons are preserved entire and in a most wonderful
state of preservation, but they are exceedingly rare, not more than one
turning up in a season's search.

Of all the wonderful animals revealed by their petrified remains,
perhaps the most striking are the reptiles. The reptiles made their
first appearance in the Permian or in the latter portion of the Car-
boniferous preceding, but here at the very inception of their line they
developed a great diversity of form and habit. There were aquatic and
terrestrial forms, carnivorous, herbivorous and omnivorous forms, forms
simple and closely resembling their amphibian ancestors and forms so
bizarre in their structure that the world has produced nothing more
strange. The reptiles descended from the amphibians and it is natural
to look in these beds, where the lowest of the reptiles are found, for
the connecting link between the two, but as yet this form has not been
discovered; the approach from both sides, however, is so close that it
is frequently impossible to determine the nature of a specimen from
a single bone or small portion of the skeleton.

The simplest of the early carnivorous reptiles were aquatic, living
in the waters of the great rivers or perhaps even in the ocean. The
body was long and slender and" the tail was exceptionally so, in corre-
lation with the swimming habit. Aside from the more technical points,
the interest in the development of the primitive reptiles centers in
certain changes of the teeth and the dorsal spines of the vertebra?. In
one of the simplest forms, Poliosaurus, the teeth have the form of sim-
ple cones of nearly equal size in all parts of the jaw; such a dentition
indicates that it preyed upon small animals which it seized and swal-
lowed whole after the manner of snakes and many lizards. The dorsal
spines are low and do not project beyond the skin. The animal prob-
ably resembled very closely the living monitor of the Nile.

In another and closely related reptile, Theroplcura, the teeth have
become differentiated, those at the anterior end of both the upper and
the lower jaws, the incisors, are enlarged and have taken on the ap-
pearance of tusks; posterior to the incisors there is a slight notch in
the edge of the upper jaw, caiised by the growth of the lower incisors,
and posterior to this there are tusk-like teeth in the upper jaw, the
canines. The growth of the incisors and canines increased the power
of grasping and holding prey. Moreover, in the posterior teeth of the

560

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 2. Restoration of the Skeleton of Theropleura.

jaws the teeth are somewhat flattened, so that cutting edges are de-
veloped which would lacerate the prey in capture or before swallowing
and minimize the chances of escape. Jn Clepsy drops the dentition
is still more specialized; the incisors and canines are longer and the
notch between them has developed into a toothless diastema; the skull
is rather thin and high and the eyes are located far back in the skull.
The spines of the vertebrae are very high and project from the back
like the fin of a fish, in this matter contrasting strongly with the sim-
pler forms in which there is no such fin or frill. It must be remem-
bered that the spines are connected directly with the vertebral column
and are not simply developed in the skin as is the case with the fishes.
In the modern Basiliscus and Iguana there are frills on the back, but
the strengthening spines are dermal like those of the fishes.

In Dimetrodon, the last of the series, these characters reached their
culmination. The incisor and canine tusks have attained a relatively
enormous length and strength, and projected from the jaws as much
as three inches; the diastemal notch is larger and deeper and the pos-
terior teeth of the jaws are recurved and have sharp serrate edges so
they had all the cutting power of a Malay kris. Could a more effective
arrangement be imagined for the cruel business of capturing and hold-
ing living prey despite its desperate struggles? The spines on the
back developed to enormous length and in some forms tapered to
the slenderness of a whip lash. The tail was short and the feet strong
and with well-developed claws, all going to show that the animal was
terrestrial in habit. The largest species of Dimetrodon reached a
length of about eight feet and was easily the largest, strongest animal
of its time. We can imagine this fiercely carnivorous form crouching
in the bushes or tall grass on the side of some stream and making a

Fig. 3. Restoration of the Skeleton of Clcpsydrops.

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA

56i

fierce scuttling rush out upon its prey, perhaps some slow-moving
reptile or amphibian, perhaps even some smaller individual of its own
kind, for there is ample evidence that these animals waged fierce battles
anion gf themselves. It is not uncommon to find bones which have
been broken during life and healed again, telling of furious reptilian
contests in the struggle for mates or for territory, or perhaps with the
single idea of a cannibalistic meal.

But a more wonderful animal still has left its remains in the rocks.
In this form there were high spines on the back, but instead of the
spines being simple they were furnished with projecting processes on
the sides, not unlike the yard-arms of the old-fashioned sailing ships.
This resemblance led Cope to call the animal Naosaurus, ship-lizard.
In a recent restoration of Naosaurus it has been given the skull of the
fiercely carnivorous Dimeirodon, the general similarity of the forms

Fig. 4. Anterior Portion of the Jaw of Dimctrodon, showing the great tusks.

seemed to warrant this, but recent discoveries have made it probable
that Naosaurus was not an eater of flesh, but a peaceful, sluggish
eater of shell fish and perhaps of vegetation. This animal has perhaps
the most wonderful dentition of any known animal the incisor teeth
are sharp and chisel-shaped, such as might be useful in cutting strong
vegetation; behind these are five sharp triangular cutting teeth, not
unlike the sectorial teeth of such flesh eaters as the tiger and lion;
behind these are simple cones, such as would be useful in holding a
struggling victim. But most wonderful of all, on the palate and in a
corresponding position on the lower jaw were heavy plates of bone,
covered by short stumpy teeth, such as occur in the jaws of fish which
live upon molluscs. The animal was seemingly omnivorous, but in-
stead of having a dentition of a generalized pattern like that of the
pig or the human being, there was a set for each kind of diet. The

VOL. LXXIII. — 36.

562

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

discovery that Naosaurus was an
eater of molluscs and not a preda-
tory form makes more perplexing
than ever the question as to the
use of the spines on the hack. On
such a thick-bodied, sluggish mud-
o-ruhher, the cross-barred spines
must have had about the same
value as an ornamental frieze on a
canal boat. What conditions of
environment could have produced
similar structures on creatures of
such dissimilar habits as Dime-
trodon and Naosaurus? It is as
if the tiger and the badger should
meet on common ground and de-
velop highly specialized, unwieldy
and seemingly useless structures
of close similarity.

Of what use were the spines on
the backs of these animals? The
structure shows that they were not
covered with flesh, but were united

a thin membrane through

hv

Fig. 5. Portion of the Vertebral
Column of Dimctrodon, showing tin-
enormous development of the spines.

which the spines showed as plain-
ly as the fin rays in the fin of a fish.
It is hard to conceive of this great

Fig. 6. Restoration of Dimctrodon.

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA

563

dorsal frill as anything but a hindrance to any
quick movement. Cope suggested, in a spirit of
fun, that these animals were the precursors of the
modern fin-keeled yacht and that when they
wished to navigate the Permian waters they swam
upon their backs. Other authors have suggested
equally abused uses in a similar spirit, but there
are very few that can be considered with any
degree of seriousness. The obvious suggestion is
that the spines served as some form of protective
mimicry, perhaps helping the animal to remain
concealed among the reeds which bordered the
lakes or streams, but this seems hardly necessary
when we reflect that the animal was the dominant
form of its time and needed no concealment unless
it was to aid in lying in wait or in making an

unseen approach until

Fig. 8. Side View
of Two Dorsal Ver-
COn- Tebr;e of Naosaurus.

Fig. 7. Front View of
One of the Dorsal Spines
of Naosaurus.

sufficiently near for the
final rush upon its un-
suspecting prey. This
last is perhaps a fair
suggestion, but it seems
that the physiological
burden of maintaining
such an essentially weak
structure must have far
outweighed any conceiv-
able advantage of
cealment. The spines

i.

were slender and were constantly subject to
fracture in battle or by accident and the ani-
mal must have expended no inconsiderable
portion of its energies in repairing the broken
structure.

There remains the suggestion that the
spines are remnants of a formerly useful
structure and their present condition is
purely a physiological one due to overgrowth.
It seems certain that when a structure has
developed so far as to give an animal a great
advantage it may continue to grow until it
is rather a burden than a help. The structure
starting as a protective feature may give the

564

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

animal such an advantage that it is practically free from all its enemies
and in this dominant or protected condition it may become over-
nourished and the originally useful structures mayt continue to grow by
a kind of inertia or momentum until they become greatly exaggerated
masses of flesh or inordinately developed spines, horns, feathers, etc.
Such a development seems to have occurred once and again in the
history of the world, and the most bizarre types of life owe something
of their condition, at least, to tins principle. The late Professor
Beecher, of Yale, has shown that there is a decided tendency, both in
plants and in animals, for a species that is nearing the point of its
extinction to develop a spiny or horny habit, covering itself with all
sorts of excrescences, seemingly in an unregulated effort to find some
condition which will prolong its existence. It is certain that these
reptiles, dominant as they were, were rapidly completing their allotted
span and as the end approached the spines grew ever heavier and
heavier, until it seems plausible to suggest that they became at last
a great drain on the animal's powers of nutrition and hastened in no
slight degree the end.

Fig. 9. Palatal View of the Skull of Naosaurus, showing the peculiar dentition.

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA

565

Fig. 10. Restoration of Naosaurus.

The family of the high-spined Pelycosaurs did not monopolize the
wonders of the reptilian horde; however the borders of the streams,,
the swamps and the uplands, harbored other forms whose structure is
just beginning to be understood. One group of these, called by Cope
the Cotylosauria, is the most primitive of the reptiles and the nearest
to the amphibians. These animals were low-bodied and sprawling, with
a head completely roofed over by bone and showing between the orbits
the third, or pineal, eye. Rudiments of this third eye are still present
in the human brain, the pineal gland between the cerebrum and
cerebellum, and in many of the modern lizards it is still so far
functional as to have a rudimentary retina perhaps capable of perceiv-
ing light.

Another group of reptiles closely resembling the Cotylosauria in
outward appearance, but differing in many details, notably the develop-
ment of a body armor, were placed by Cope in a separate order, the
Chelydosauria. As indicated by the name, the Chelydosauria are prob-
ably the ancestors of the turtles. Aside from more technical points
this relationship is shown by the development of a more or less com-
plete carapace. The skeleton of the larger forms is pretty well known
and the general shape is shown in the restoration of the skeleton of
Biadectes, Fig. 11. The teeth are elongated transversely and flattened,
telling of a purely vegetable diet; the dermal armor consisted of five
overlapping plates on each side lying on the first five dorsal ribs; the
anterior one is small, the second much larger and the last three smaller
again. In certain small forms, Otocceeus and Conodectes, the armor
was much more perfect, consisting of strong dermal plates correspond-

5 66 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 11. Restoration of the Skeleton of Diadectes.

ing to the ribs in number and extending down over the sides in broad
curves so that the animal was completely closed in a bony cuirass. Add
to this that the top of the head was heavy and solid, and we can imagine
that the animal when it crouched close to the ground, with its head
drawn down and in, resembled very closely the modern Armadillo in
its attitude of defense and was able to resist the attack of even the long-
tusked Dimetrodon.

This donning of armor is one of the striking things about the
animals of the Permian age ; it occurred among the amphibians as well
as among the reptiles and is closely correlated with the development
of great tusks in the predatory forms. As the armor-piercing weapons
grew ever stronger the armor grew ever heavier and more completely
adapted to the body. The same thing has happened once and again
in the world's history; much later, in Tertiary time, when the world
was thirty millions of years older, we have a repetition of the same
thing. The great saber-toothed tiger developed canine tusks six inches
in length, and the small edentates, the natural prey of the tiger, de-
veloped first small isolated bones in the skin, but ever as the tusks grew
the bones in the skin became larger and better arranged, until the
almost perfect protection of the Armadillo appeared. It was the
prophecy of modern warfare between armor-piercing shells and armor
plate, we have not seen the end in human history, but in the old days
it continued to the practical extinction of both parties to the contest.
Perhaps there is a neglected object-lesson here.

Turning from the reptiles to the amphibians, we find a no less
wonderful group of animals. During the preceding age, the Car-
boniferous, the amphibians had been masters of the world; by the
Permian, their time of dominance was past and they were already on
the downward path that was to end in the obscure toads, frogs and
salamanders of our meadows. But they were far from yielding tamely
to their fate; they developed in all possible directions in a seemingly
frantic effort to regain their lost dominance. During the Permian
and the succeeding Triassic ages, there lived some of the largest
amphibians the world has ever seen; they betook themselves to the
water and developed eel-like bodies; they lived in hollow trees, as
witness the discoveries of Sir Wm. Dawson in the stumps of trees

A GREAT PERMIAN DELTA

567

Fig. 12. Skull of Diplocaulus, showing
the upper and lower surfaces.

Fig. 13. Restoration of
Diplocaulus.

in the coal beds of South Joggins in Xova Scotia ; they wrapped them-
selves in armor and they hid themselves in the ground.

It is possible to describe but a very few of the forms that are known.
Eryops was the largest of the amphibian tribe, with a length of about
eight feet; it was not unlike a great overgrown newt or salamander
with weak sprawling limbs that could not raise the body from the
ground, except by a great effort. The skull had a length of two feet
and a half in the largest specimens and the lower jaw was hinged at
the posterior end of the skull, so that the animal had a most tremendous
gape. The jaws were armed -with sharp conical teeth, which in the
anterior portions of the jaws were developed into powerful tusks. Prob-
ably the animal played a somewhat similar part in the Permian waters
to that of the modern alligator, lying nearly covered in the water with
only the eyes and nostrils exposed, which were placed on the top of
the skull for the purpose, and gliding slowly upon its prey until within
a distance that made possible a sudden fierce rush which ended with
the passage of the victim down the capacious maw of the Eryops.

Contrasted with Eryops, and probably frequently its victim, was the
small Diplocaulus. Though still imperfectly known, enough has been
made out about this animal to show that it possessed a form even more
grotesque than that of the high-spined reptiles. The head, as shown
in Fig. 12, was extremely flat and shaped like an exaggerated crescent
with strong horns or spines projecting to the rear from the posterior
corners. The eyes and nostrils were located far forward toward the
anterior end and were directed straight upward. The lower jaw was

568 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

very short and articulated with the skull far in front of the ends of
the horns. No trace has been found of limbs, and the vertebrae inter-
lock like those of the modern snakes ; from this it is probable that these
animals were limbless and snake-like in form, but they must have
presented a most peculiar appearance with the slender body and
enormous head. It is hardly possible that the animal could have
raised its head from the ground except by an occasional and violent
effort, for the skull was solid and relatively very heavy. Probably the
animal was purely aquatic in habit and, lying in the mud of the bottom,
wriggled forward, pushing its great head through the slime, from which
it gathered the vegetation and small shell fish which formed its food.
The position of the eyes and nostrils on the top of the skull renders
this position the more certain. On the banks of the streams the am-
phibians took yet another form, for here they donned a complete coat
of mail similar to that of the small reptile.

Imperfect as our knowledge still is of this wonderful group of
animals, enough is already known to show how fully strife and warfare
filled the world's history even at the beginning, and how every possible
advantage of tooth or limb or armor was necessary for success.

77/ A' PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

569

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

TWO GREAT UNIVERSITY
PRESIDENTS
The development of the American
university during the last quarter of
the nineteenth century is perhaps the
most important chapter in our recent
history. In this remarkable movement
two institutions have led, and their
prominence is personified in two great

educational leaders, President Eliot, of
Harvard, and President Gilman, of the
Johns Hopkins. The oldest of our uni-
versities, with its high traditions, its
faculty of eminent scholars and its
alumni throughout the country, and
the youngest of our universities, unen-
tangled by precedents and engagements,
free to plan its work and choose its

President Chari.es W. Eliot.

57o

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

President Daniel C. Oilman.

men, were the institutions best placed
to lead the way, but they might not
have done so had they not found the
right presidents at the right lime.
From the point of view of this journal
it is worth emphasis that both owed
their preparation to scientific training
and teaching. Dr. Eliot was professor
of chemistry at the Massachusetts

Institute of Technology when called to
the presidency of Harvard, and Dr.
Gilman was professor of geography at
Yale when he took up administrative
work.

Dr. Gilman resigned the presidency
of the Johns Hopkins in 1901, on reach-
ing the age of seventy years and after
twenty-six years of office. His death

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

57i

last month recalls vividly his great
services to higher education. Dr. Eliot
has now resigned the presidency of
Harvard to take effect next spring,
when he will have served forty years
in the office, and will be in his seventy-
fifth year. Mr. Gilman was at the time
of his resignation in full vigor of body
and mind and was able afterwards to
undertake the difficult task of organ-
izing the Carnegie Institution, while
performing many other public services.
President Eliot has never seemed more
competent to direct the affairs of a
university than at present; there has
not during the past forty years been a
time when he has been so gladly fol-
lowed as a leader. He is likely to
remain for years to come the chief
influence at Harvard and the leading
private citizen of the United States.

At the inaguration of Mr. Gilman as
president of the Johns Hopkins Univer-
sity on February 22, 1876, Mr. Eliot
said: "In the natural course of your
life you will not see any large part of
the real fruits of your labors; for to
build a university needs not years only,
but generations." This is only partly
true. The traditions and ideals of the
university are a long growth, but they
may be transplanted to a new soil and
flourish there. Relatively to other in-
stitutions at least, it is probable that
the Johns Hopkins will never again be
so great as it was in the eighties, and
Harvard will never again be so pre-
eminent as it is at the close of Mr.
Eliot's administration. The seven pro-
fessors on the faculty of the Johns
Hopkins at the beginning far surpassed
the average of any present faculty, and
the hundred students in the early years,
the average of any present student
body. This great feat was again re-
peated by Mr. Gilman when the med-
ical school was organized. Harvard
has accomplished more in the past
forty years than during the preceding
centuries of its history. It set stand-
ards of freedom and culture when such
standards were most needed. It now

shares its leadership with other insti-
tutions and will probably fall behind
the greater of the state universities.

There is more instinctive admiration
for the puritan aristocrat than for the
opportunist, but in so far as Mr. Eliot
stands for the plan of free electives,
for culture prerequisite to the profes-
sional school, and Mr. Gilman for a
group system of studies leading chiefly
to the professional school and research,
the majority of scientific men will side
with the latter.

Mr. Eliot's position could only be
filled by a man of equal distinction
after forty years of service. It is prob-
ably well that it can not be filled. The
constitution of the state of Massa-
chusetts places measures before men.
It is- better for the university to be a
democracy of scholars, rather than for
its scholars to be subject to the will of
one man. The Harvard corporation
will not purposely reorganize the uni-
versity on a democratic and representa-
tive basis, but they will probably con-
tribute to this end by the president
whom they will elect.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS

We record with regret the death of
O. T. Mason, head curator of anthro-
pology in the U. S. National Museum;
of Dr. Francis H. Snow, formerly
chancellor and professor of entomology
in the University of Kansas, and of
Professor Berger, the eminent French
surgeon.

Theee was held at the Sorbonne in
Paris, on October 4, a meeting in mem-
ory of the great chemist, Marcellin
Berthelot. M. Raymond Poincare made
an address on his work, and was fol-
lowed by M. Falliere, president of the
Republic. — A bronze tablet to the mem-
ory of the late Major James Carroll,
eminent for his work on yellow fever,
was unveiled in the main medical build-
ing of the University of Maryland, on
November 11. Dr. William H. Welch
delivered the principal address.

572

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Sir Archibald Geikie,
The Eminent Zoologist, elected to the Presidency of the Royal Society.

By the will of the late Grace M. i Company will erect for Oxford Uni-
Kuhn, Harvard University receives | versity an electrical laboratory at a
$175,000 to endow a department of cost of £22,000 and will give an addi-
biological chemistry. — The Draper's tional sum of £1,000 for its equipment.

INDEX

573

INDEX

NAMES OF CONTRIBUTORS ARK PRINTED IN SMALL CAPITALS

Aborigines, Prehistoric, of Minnesota
and their Migrations, N. H. Win-
chell, 207

Administration, Academic Aspects of,
Joseph Jastrow, 326

Administrative Methods in American
Universities, 93

Aerial Navigation, 381

Aerodrome, Langley's, Experiments
with, S. P. Langley, 462

Alban and Mitla, Monte, as the Tourist
sees them, Charles Joseph Cham-
berlain, 392

American, Association, the Hanover
Meeting of the, 96; Summer Meeting
at Dartmouth College, 189; Educa-
tion, the Specialist Blight on, James
P. Munroe, 340; Universities, Ad-
ministrative Methods in, 93

Aquatic, Animals, Photography of, in
their Natural Environment, 382 ;
Farming — a System of, Herbert
Osborn, 85

Arnot, Raymond H, The Industries
of Niagara Falls, 306

Athletes, Scholars and the Average
Student, the Physique of, D. A.
Sargent, 248

Attraction, Social, The Laws of, Simon
N. Patten, 354

Bacteriological Study of Soiled Paper
Money, Warren W. Hilditch, 157

Bawden, H. Heath, The Philosophy
called Pragmatism, 61

Biology, Modern, Aspects of, T. D. A.
Cockerell, 540

Botanical Gardens of Ceylon, Frances
Ramaley, 193

Botany, A Biographical History of, at
St. Louis, Missouri, Perley Spauld-
ing, 486

Boyden Department of the Harvard
College Observatory, 94

Branner, John C, Loyalty, 549

British Association, The Dublin Meet-
ing of, 477

Brown, Orville Harry, A Physiolog-
ical Problem, Enzymes, 81

Canadian Wheat, John Waddell, 523
Case, E. C, A Great Permian Delta
and its Vertebrate Life, with Resto-
rations by the Author, 557

Celibate Education To-day, E. S., 423

Ceylon, Botanical Gardens of, Frances
Ramaley, 193

Chamberlain, Charles Joseph, Monte
Alban and Mitla as the Tourist sees
them, 392

Chamberlin, Thomas Chrowder,
Soil Wastage, 5

Chicago and Greater New York, Crimes
of Violence in, Maynard Shipley,
127

Classification of Mathematics, G. A.
Miller, 319

Cockerell, T. D. A., Florissant, a
Miocene Pompeii, 112; Modern As-
pects of Biology, 540

College Standardization, W. Le Conte
Stevens, 528

Congresses, International, and Perma-
nent International Bureaus, 191

Conservation of Energy, The History
of, the Age of the Earth and the Sun,
Florian Cajori, 97

Crampton, Henry E., Zoology, 441

Crimes of Violence in Chicago and in
Greater New York, Maynard Ship-
ley, 127

Crops, The Rotation of, Samuel
Fraser, 403

Dartmouth College and the Summer
Meeting of the American Association
for the Advancement of Science, 189

Dean, John Candee, Count Rumford,
32

Democracy, the Public School Teacher
in a, Henry R. Linville, 413

Doctorates conferred by American Uni-
versities, 380

Dublin Meeting of the British Associa-
tion, 477

Earth and the Sun, the Age of, and the
History of the Conservation of En-
ergy, Florian Cajori, 97

Education, American, the Specialist
Blight on, James P. Munroe, 340;
Celibate, E. S., 423

Energy, The History of the Conserva-
tion of, and the Age of the Earth
and the Sun, Florian Cajori, 97

Enzymes — A Physiological Problem,
Orville Harry Brown, 81

*73t><

574

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Excretions, Root, Modern and Early
Work on the Question of, Howard
S. Reed, 257

Falls of Niagara, The Spoliation of,

J. W. Spencer, 289; Industries of,

Raymond H. Arnot, 306
Farming, Aquatic, Needed — A System

of, Herbert Osborn, 85
Financial Status of the Professor in

America and in Germany, 285
Florissant, a Miocene Pompeii, T. D. A.

COCKERELL, 112

Forest Wealth, shall it be destroyed ?

Thomas Elmer Will, 176
Fraser, Samuel, The Rotation of

Crops, 403
Fullerton, George Stuart, Something

New in Freewill, 345

Handwriting, Japanese, E. W. Scrip-
ture, 277

Hanover Meeting of the American Asso-
ciation, 96

Harvard College Observatory, the Boy-
den Department of, 94

High School Course, David Starr Jor-
dan, 28

Hilditch, Warren W., A Bacteriolog-
ical Study of Soiled Paper Money,
157

Humor, the Nature, Origin and Func-
tion of, Linus W. Kline, 144

Matter, Radiant, Hypothesis of, Morris
Loeb, 52

Mayer, Alfred Goldsborough, The
Cause of Pulsation, 481

Milk, Facts concerning, A. E. P. Rock-
well, 166

Miller, G. A., Classification of Mathe-
matics, 319

Minnesota, Prehistoric Aborigines of,
and their Migrations, N. H. Win-
chell, 207

Miocene Pompeii, Florissant, T. D. A.

COCKERELL, 112

Mississippi River Problem, Walter
Sheldon Tower, 12

Mitla and Alban, Monte, as the Tourist
sees them, Charles Joseph Cham-
berlain, 392

Money, Paper, Soiled, a Bacteriological
Study of, Warren W. Hilditch, 157

Montgomery, Jr., Thos. H, The Prac-
tical Value of Pure Science, 234

Munroe, James P., The Specialist
Blight on American Education, 340

Natural Selection, The Fiftieth Anni-
versary of the Announcement of, 475

Navigation, Aerial, 381

New York and Chicago, Crimes of
Violence in, Maynard Shipley, 127

Niagara, the Falls of, Spoliation of,
J. W. Spencer, 289; The Industries
of, Raymond H. Arnot, 306

the

Inadequacy of Speech, Chas. W. Super, ; Observatory, Harvard College
429 Boyden Department of, 94

Industries of Niagara Falls, Raymond \ Olympiad, the Last, Records of Run
H. Arnot, 306 ning in, A. E. Kennelly, 385

International Congresses and Perma-
nent International Bureaus, 191

Japanese Handwriting, E. W. Scrip-
ture, 277

Jastrow, Joseph, Academic Aspects of
Administration, 326

Jordan, David Starr, The High School
Course, 28

Kennelly, A. E., Records of Running

in the Last Olympiad, 385
Kline, Linus W., The Nature, Origin

and Function of Humor, 144

Langley's Aerodrome, Experiments

with, S. P. Langley, 462
Linville, Henry R., The Public School

Teacher in a Democracy, 413
Loeb, Morris, Hypothesis of Radiant

Matter, 52
Loyalty, John C. Branner, 549

Man, The Application of Zoological
Laws to, William Ridgway, 500

Mathematics, Classification of, G. A.
Miller, 319

Osborn, Herbert, A System of Aquatic

Farming, 85

Paper Money, Soiled, A Bacteriological
Study of, Warren W. Hilditch, 157

Permian Delta and its Vertebrate Life,
with Restorations* by the Author,
E. C. Case, 557

Philosophy, the New, Called Prag-
matism, H. Heath Bawden, 61

Photography of Aquatic Animals in
their Natural Environment, 382

Physiological Psychology, the Move-
ment towards, R. M. Wenley, 73,
135, 226

Physique of Scholars, Athletes and the
Average Student. D. A. Sargent, 248

Plague, The Present Pandemic of, 479

Pickering, E. C, Foreign Associates
of National Societies, 372

Pompeii, Florissant, a Miocene, T. D.
A. Cockerel, 112

Pragmatism, the New Philosophy
called, H. Heath Bawden. 61

Prehistoric Aborigines of Minnesota
and their Migrations, N. H. Win-
chell, 207

INDEX

575

Presidents. Two (heat University, 569

Professor, The Financial Status of the,
in America and in Germany, 285

Progress of Science, 92, 188, 283, 380,
475, 569

Public School Teacher in a Democracy.
Henry R. Linville, 413

Pulsation. The Cause of, Alfred Golds-
borough Mayer, 481

Pure Science, The Practical Value of,
Thos. H. Montgomery, Jr., 234

Radiant Matter, Hypothesis of, Morris

Loeb, 52
Ram ale y, Frances, The Botanical

Gardens of Ceylon. 193
Reed, Howard S., Modern and Early

Work on the Question of Root Excre-
tions, 257
Ridgeway, William, The Application

of Zoological Laws to Man, 500
River Problem, The Mississippi,

Walter Sheldon Tower, 13
Rockwell, A. E. P., Facts concerning

Milk, 166
Root Excretions, Modern and Early

Work on, Howard S. Reed, 257
Rotation of Crops, Samuel Fraser,

403
Rumford, Count, John Candee Dean.

32
Running in the Last Olympiad, A. E.

Kennelly, 385

S., E.. Celibate Education To-day, 423

Sargent, D. A., The Physique of Schol-
ars, Athletes and the Average Stu-
dent, 248

Science, Pure, The Practical Value of,
Thos. H. Montgomery, Jr., 234;
The Progress of, 92, 188, 283, 3S0,
475, 569

Scientific Items, 96, 192, 286, 3S4, 480,
576

Scripture, E. W., Japanese Hand-
writing, 277

Selection, Natural, The Fiftieth Anni-
versary of the Announcement of, 475

Shipley, Maynard, Crimes of Violence
in Chicago and in Greater New York,
127

Silver, Theo. F. Van Wagenen, 267

Social Attraction, The Laws of, Simon
N. Patten, 354

Soil Wastage, Thomas Chrowder
Chamberlin, 5

Spatjlding, Pkrley, A Biographical

History of Botany at St. Louis, Mis-
souri, 488

Specialist Blight on American Educa-
tion, James P. Munroe, 340

Species, A Case of Unparalleled Ex-
termination of — the Passing of the
Sturgeon, Walter Sheldon Tower,
391

Speech, The Inadequacy of, Chas. W.
Super, 429

Spencer, Herbert, Life and Letters of,
283

Spencer, W. J., The Spoliation of the
Falls of Niagara, 289

Stevens, W. Le Conte, College Stand-
ardization. 528

Sturgeon, the Passing of, A Case of
the Unparalleled Extermination of
a Species, Walter Sheldon Tower,
391

Sun and the Earth, and the History of
the Conservation of Energy, Florian
Cajori, 97

Super, Chas. W., The Inadequacy of
Speech, 429

Tower, Walter Sheldon, The Missis-
sippi River Problem, 13; The Pass-
ing of the Sturgeon, 391

Universities, American. Administra-
tion Methods in, 93; Doctorates con-
ferred by, 380

University Presidents, Two Great, 567

Van Wagenen, Theo. F., Silver, 267
Vertebrate Life of a Great Permian
Delta, with Restorations by the
Author, E. C. Case, 557
Violence, Crimes of. in Chicago and in
Greater New York, Maynard Ship-
ley, 127

Waddell, John, Canadian Wheat, 523
Wastage, Soil, Thomas Chrowder

Chamberlin, 5
Wenley, R. M., The Movement towards
" Physiological " Psychology, 73, 135,
226
Wheat, Canadian, John Waddell, 528
Will, Thomas Elmer, Shall Our For-
est Wealth be Destroyed? 176
Winchell. N. H., Prehistoric Aborig-
ines of Minnesota and their Migra-
tions, 207

Zoological Laws, The Application of,

to Man, William Ridgeway, 500
Zoology, Henry E. Crampton, 441

Vol. LXXIII. No. 1. JULY, 1908

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

EDITED BY J. McKEEJf CATTELL
CONTENTS

Soil Wastage. Professor Thomas Chrowder Chamberlin .... 5

The Mississippi River Problem. Dr. Walter Sheldon Tower ... 13

The High School Course. President David Starr Jordan .... 20

Count Rumford. John Candee Dean 32

Hypothesis of Radiant Matter. Dr. Morris Loeb 52

The New Philosophy called Pragmatism. Professor H. Heath Bawden 61
The Movement towards u Physiological Psychology. ' ' Professor R. M.

Wenley 73

A Physiological Problem — Enzymes. Dr. Orville Harry Brown . . 81

Needed — A System of Aquatic Farming. Professor Herbert Osborn . 85

The Progress of Science :

Administrative Methods in American Universities ; The Boyden Department of the
Harvard College Observatory ; The Hanover Meeting of the American Association ;

Scientific Items 92

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Some New View Points in Nutrition. Professor
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Vol.LXXIII. No. 2. AUGUST, 1908

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

EDITED BY J. McKEEN CATTELL

CONTENTS

The History of the Conservation of Energy : the Age of the Earth and

the Sun. Professor Florian Cajori 97

Florissant : a Miocene Pompeii. Professor T. D. A. Cockerell , . . 112
Crimes and Violence in Chicago and in Greater New York. Maynard

Shipley 127

The Movement towards " Physiological Psychology." Professor E. M.

Wenley 135

The Nature, Origin and Function of Humor. Dr. Linus W. Kline . . 144
A Bacteriological Study of Soiled Paper Money. Warren W. Hilditch. 157

Facts concerning Milk. Dr. A. E. P. Rockwell 166

Shall Our Forest Wealth be Destroyed ? Thomas Elmer Will. . . . 176

The Progress of Science :

Dartmouth College and the Summer Meeting of the American Association for the Ad-
vancement of Science ; International Congresses and Permanent International Bureaus ;
Scientific Items 188

THE SCIENCE PRESS

Lancaster, pa garrison, n. y.

NEW YOKE: Sub-Station 84

Single Number, 30 Cents Yearly Subscription, $3.00

Copybiqht, 190S, BY THE SCIENCE PRESS

BOOKS OF PERMANENT, ALL-THE-YEAK-EOXJND VALUE

SEVEN GREAT WORKS OF REFERENCE

VOLUME I AND II NOW READY

Cyclopedia of American Agriculture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY. Complete in Four Royal Octavo Volumes, with about 3,000 illustrations
in the text and 100 Full-page Plates. Price of the set, cloth, $20 net ; half morocco, $32 net.

Vol. I. General Considerations of Farms, Climates and Soils. Now ready.

Vol. II. Farm Crops — General Facts relating to Plant Production: Individual Farm Crops.

Now ready.

Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology

Written by many hands and Edited by J. MARK BALDWIN, LL.D., with the eo-operation of an Inter-
national Board of Consulting Editors, and Bibliographies by DR. RAND.

In three volumes : Volume I, $8 ; Volume II, $8 ; Volume III, (in two parts) $10 net.
Volume III contains the "Bibliography of Philosophy, Psychology, and Cognate Subjects," by
Benjamin Rand, of Harvard University, in two parts.

Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers

A new edition of a work which has no rival for completeness and trustworthiness. Thoroughly re-
vised, with over 1200 new biographies and more than 4000 alterations necessitated by modern research.

Five volumes, fully illustrated. Each $6.00 net.

Encyclopedia Biblica

Edited by The Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, D.D., and J. SUTHERLAND BLACK, LL.D., Assisted by many
Contributors in Great Britain, Europe and America. Cloth, $20 net; half-morocco, $30 net.

Cyclopedia of American Horticulture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY, assisted by WILHELM MILLER and others. 9,000 pages, with 3,800 illus-
trations and 50 full-page plates. Four volumes, cloth, $20 net; half morocco, $32 net.

t

A Dictionary of Architecture and Building

By RUSSELL STURGIS, Fellow of American Inst, of Architecture, Author of " European Architec-
ture,'1 etc., and many Architects, Painters, Engineers and other Expert Writers, American and Foreign.
With Bibliographies, and over 1,500 illustrations. Three vols. Cloth, $18 net ; half-mor., $30 net.

Dictionary of Music and Musicians

By Sir GEORGE GROVE. Revised and greatly enlarged Edition, in Five Volumes. Each volume
illustrated with a photogravure and twenty-four full-page half-tone plates, besides many pictures in
the text. Cloth, 8vo. Volumes I. and II. now ready. Each $5.00 net, on orders for sets only.

Sold by subscription only. For full particulars as to special cash or instalment offers address

The Macmillan Company, 64"6NEwFYoRtVE'

The Popular Science Monthly

Entered in the Post Of/Use in Lancaster, Pa., as second-class matter.

CONTENTS OF JUNE NUMBER

The Movement toward " Physiological Psychology."
Professor R. M. Wenley.

Coincident Activities of the Earth and the Sun. Dr.
Ellsworth Huntington.

Springs as a Geographic Influence of Humid Climates.

Professor Frank Carney.
Johannes Miiller. Dr. Philip B. Hadley.

The Gensis of Ores in the Light of Modern Theory.
Horace V. Winchell.

The Relation between Recent Industrial Progress and
Educational Advance. Dr. Frank T. Carlton.

The Dawn of Quadrupeds in North America. Dr.
Roy L. Moodie.

The Progress of Science :

The National Academy of Sciences and the
American Philosophical Society ; Dedication of
the New Buildings of the College of the City of
New York ; Lewis Henry Morgan ; The Sargent
Anniversary Medal ; Scientific Items.

index to Volume LXXTI.

CONTENTS OF JULY NUMBER

Soil Wastage. Professor Thomas Chrowder
Chamberlin.

The Mississippi River Problem. Dr. Walter Shel-
don Tower.

The High School Course. President David Starr
Jordan.

Count Rumford. John Candee Dean.

Hypothesis of Radiant Matter. Dr. Morris Loeb.

The New Philosophy called Pragmatism. Professor
H. Heath Bawden.

The Movement towards "Physiological Psychology."
Professor R. M. Wenley.

A Physiological Problem — Enzymes. Dr. Orville
Harry Brown.

Needed— A System of Aquatic Farming. Professor
Herbert Osborn

The Progress of Science :

Administrative Methods in American Univer-
sities; The Boyden Department of the Harvard
College Observatory ; The Hanover Meeting of
the American Association ; Scientific Items.

The MONTHLY will be sent to new subscribers for six months for One Dollar
SUBSCRIPTION ORDER

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Vol. LXXIII. No. 3. SEPTEMBER 1908

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

EDITED BY J. McKEEN CATTELL
CONTENTS

The Botanical Gardens of Ceylon. Professor Francis Ramaley . . . 193
The Prehistoric Aborigines of Minnesota and their Migrations. N. H.

Winchell . 207

The Movement towards " Physiological" Psychology. Professor R. M.

Wenley 226

The Practical Value of Pure Science. Professor Thos. Montgomery, Jr. 234

The Physique of Scholars, Athletes and the Average Student. Professor

D. A. Sargent ........ 248

Modern and Early "Work upon the Question of Root Excretions. Howard

S. Reed 257

Silver. Theo: F. Van Wagenen 267

Japanese Handwriting. Dr. E. W. Scripture 277

The Progress of Science :

The Life and Letters of Herbert Spencer ; The Financial Status of the Professor in

the United States and in Germany ; Scientific Items 283

THE SCIENCE PRESS

Lancaster, pa garrison, n. T.

NEW YORK: Sub-Station 84

Single Number, 30 Cents Yearly Subscription, $3.00

Copykight, 1903, BY THE SCIENCE PRESS

BOOKS OF PERMANENT, ALL-THE-YEAE-EOTJND VALUE

SEVEN GREAT WORKS OF REFERENCE

VOLUME I AND II NOW READY

Cyclopedia of American Agriculture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY. Complete in Four Royal Octavo Volumes, -with about 3,000 illustrations
in the text and 100 Full-page Plates. Price of the set, cloth, $20 net ; half morocco, $32 net.

Vol. I. General Considerations of Farms, Climates and Soils. Now ready.

Vol II. Farm Crops — General Facts relating to Plant Production: Individual Farm Crops.

Now ready.

Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology

Written by many hands and Edited by J. MARK BALDWIN, LL.D., with the co-operation of an Inter-
national Board of Consulting Editors, and Bibliographies by DR. RAND.

In three volumes : Volume I, $8 ; Volume II, $8 ; Volume III, (m two parts) $10 net.
Volume III contains the "Bibliography of Philosophy, Psychology, and Cognate Subjects," by
Benjamin Rand, of Harvard University, in two parts.

Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers

A new edition of a work which has no rival for completeness and trustworthiness. Thoroughly re-
vised, with over 1200 new biographies and more than 4000 alterations necessitated by modern researeh.

Five volumes, fully illustrated. Each $6.00 net.

Encyclopedia Biblica

Edited by The Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, D.D., and J. SUTHERLAND BLACK, LL.D., Assisted by many
Contributors in Cheat Britain, Europe and America. Cloth, $20 net ; half-morocco, $30 net.

Cyclopedia of American Horticulture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY, assisted by WILHELM MILLER and others. S,000 pages, with S,S00 illus-
trations and 50 full-page plates. Four volumes, cloth, $20 net; half morocco, $32 net.

A Dictionary of Architecture and Building

By RUSSELL STURGIS, Fellow of American Inst, of Architecture, Author of " European Architec-
ture,^ etc., and many Architects, Painters, Engineers and other Expert Writers, American and Foreign.
With Bibliographies, and over 1,500 illustrations. Three vols. Cloth, $18 net ; half-mor., $30 net.

Dictionary of Music and Musicians

By Sir GEORGE GROVE. Revised and greatly enlarged Edition, in Five Volumes. Each volume
illustrated with a photogravure and twenty-four full-page half-tone plates, besides many pictures in
the text. Cloth, 8vo. Volumes I. and II. now ready. Each $5.00 net, onorders for sets only.

Sold by subscription only. For full particulars as to special cash or instalment offers address

The Macmillan Company, ^nbw'yor^T'

The Popular Science Monthly

Entered in the Post Office m Lancaster, Fa., at second-class matter.

CONTENTS OF JULY NUMBER

Soil Wastage. Professor Thomas Chrowder
Chamberlin.

The Mississippi River Problem. Dr. Walter Shel-
don Tower.

The High School Course. President David Starr
Jordan.

Count Rumford. John Candee Dean.

Hypothesis of Radiant Matter. Dr. Morris Loeb.

The New Philosophy called Pragmatism. Professor
H. Heath Bawden.

The Movement towards "Physiological Psychology."
Professor R. M. Wenley.

A Physiological Problem — Enzymes. Dr. Orville
Harry Brown.

Needed— A System of Aquatic Farming. Professor
Herbert Osborn

The Progress of Science :

Administrative Methods in American Univer-
sities ; The Boyden Department of the Harvard
College Observatory ; The Hanover Meeting of
the American Association ; Scientific Items.

CONTENTS OF AUGUST NUMBER

The History of the Conservation of Energy ; the Age
of the Earth and the Sun. Professor Florian
Cajori.

Florissant ; a Miocene Pompeii. Professor T. D. A.
Cockerell.

The Truth about Crimes and Violence in Chicago
and in Greater New York. Maynard Shipley-

The Movement towards "Physiological Psychology."
Professor R. M. Wenley.

The Nature, Origin and Function of Humor. Dr.
Linus W. Kline.

A Bacteriological Study of Soiled Paper Money.
Warren W. Hilditch.

Facts concerning Milk. Dr. A. E. P. Rockwell.

Shall Our Forest Wealth be destroyed? Thomas
Elmer Will.

The Progress of Science.

Dartmouth College and the Summer Meeting of
the American Association for the Advancement
of Science; International Congress and Perman-
ent International Bureaus ; Scientific Items.

The MONTHLY will be sent to new subscribers for six months for One Dollar
SUBSCRIPTION ORDER

To THE SCIENCE PRESS,

Publishers of THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
Sub-Station 84, New York City.

Please find enclosed check or money order for three dollars, subscrip-
tion to THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY for one year, begin-
ning August, 1908.

Please find enclosed from a new subscriber one dollar (sent at your
risk), subscription for six months to THE POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY, beginning August, 1908.

Name..„ ~

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Press of the new Era PnmTiwa qohi*_mt

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It is in use at

Harvard, Cornell, U. of P., Iceland
Stanford, Girard College and
hundreds of other institutions.

Wireless Telegraph Outfits

For school room and experimental work. Com-
plete sending and receiving stations.

Lantern Slides — Microscopic Slides

Illustrating Botany, Geology and other sciences.
Lists on application.

WILLIAMS, BROWN & EARLE,
Dept. N, 918 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa.

QUALITY! QUALITY!! QUALITY!!!

VANILLA CHOCOLATE

(PINK WRAPPER)

IS BY FAR THE BEST

EATING & DRINKING CHOCOLATE IN THE WOULD.

<e%^ COCOA

FOR PURITY & FLAVOR

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PREMIUM (x>

FAMILY COOKING a BAKING CHOCOLATE

(BLUE "WRAPPER)
IS UNSURPASSED FOR COOKING & BAKING.

ALL OUR COCOA & CHOCOLATE PRODUCTS ARE RICH IN THAT
DELICIOUS GENUINE CHOCOLATE FLAVOR
ON ACCOUNT OF QUALITY OF BEANS
USED AND THEIR BLENDIN6.

SOLD AT OUR STORES » BY GROCERS EVERYWHERE.

Vol. LXXIII. No. i. OCTOBER, 1908

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

EDITED BY J. McKEEN CATTELL

CONTENTS

The Spoliation of the Falls of Niagara. Dr. J. W. Spencer .... 289

The Industries of Niagara Falls. Raymond H. Arnot 306

The Classification of Mathematics. Professor G. A. Miller .... 319
Academic Aspects of Administration. Professor Joseph Jastrow . .326
Something new in ' k Freewill. " George Stuart Fullerton .... 345
The Specialist Blight on American Education. James P. Munroe . . 340
The Laws of Social Attraction. Professor Simon N. Patten .... 354
The Passing of the Sturgeon : A Case of the Unparalleled Extermination of

a Species. Dr. Walter Sheldon Tower 391

Foreign Associates of National Societies. Professor E. C. Pickering . 372
The Progress of Science :

Doctorates conferred by American Universities ; Aerial Navigation ; The Photog-
raphy of Aquatic Animals in their Natural Environment ; Scientific Items . . . 380

THE SCIENCE PRESS

tANCASTER, PA GARRISON, N. T.

NEW YOEK: Sub-Station 84

Single Numbeb, SO Cents Yearly Subscription, $3.00

Copyright, 1908, by THE SCIENCE PRESS

BOOKS OF PEBMANENT, ALL-THE-YEAE-EOTJND VALUE

SEVEN GREAT WORKS OF REFERENCE

VOLUME I AND II NOW READY

Cyclopedia of American Agriculture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY. Complete in Four Royal Octavo Volumes, "with about 3,000 illustrations
in the text and 100 Full-page Plates. Price of the set, oloth, $20 net ; half morocco, $32 net.

Vol. I. General Considerations of Farms, Climates and Soils. Now ready.

Vol. II. Farm Crops — General Facts relating to Plant Production: Individual Farm Crops.

Now ready.

Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology

Written by many hands and Edited by J. MARK BALDWIN, LL.D., with the co-operation of an Inter-
national Board of Consulting Editors, and Bibliographies by DR. RAND.

In three volumes : Volume I, $8 ; Volume II, $8 ; Volume III, (in two parts) $10 net.
Volume III contains the "Bibliography of Philosophy, Psychology, and Cognate Subjects," by
Benjamin Rand, of Harvard University, in two parts.

Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers

A new edition of a work which has no rival for completeness and trustworthiness. Thoroughly re-
vised, with over 1200 new biographies and more than 4000 alterations necessitated by modern research.

Five volumes, fully illustrated. Each $6.00 net.

Encyclopedia Biblica

Edited by The Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, D.D., and J. SUTHERLAND BLACK, LL.D., Assisted by many
Contributors in Great Britain, Europe and America. Cloth, $20 net ; half-morocco, $30 net.

Cyclopedia of American Horticulture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY, assisted by WILHELM MILLER and others. 2,000 pages, with S,800 illus-
trations and 60 full-page plates. Four volumes, cloth, $20 net; half morocco, $32 net.

A Dictionary of Architecture and Building

By RUSSELL STURGIS, Fellow of American Inst, of Architecture, Author of " European Architec-
ture," etc., and many Architects, Painters, Engineers and ether Expert Writers, American and Foreign.
With Bibliographies, and over 1,500 illustrations. Three vols. Cloth, $18 net ; half-mor., $30 net.

Dictionary of Music and Musicians

By Sir GEORGE GROVE. Revised and greatly enlarged Edition, in Five Volumes. Each volume
illustrated with a photogravure and twenty-four full-page half-tone plates, besides many pictures in
the text. Cloth, 8vo. Volumes I. and II. now ready. Each $5.00 net, on orders for sets only.

Sold by subscription only. For full particulars as to special cash or instalment offers address

The Macmillan Company, 64"6nEwFyor£vi'

The Popular Science Monthly

Entered in the Post Office in Lancaster, Pa., as second-class matter.

CONTENTS OF AUGUST NUMBER

The History of the Conservation of Energy ; the Age
of the Earth and the Sun. Professor Florian
Cajoki.

Florissant ; a Miocene Pompeii. Professor T. D. A.

COCKERELL.

The Truth about Crimes and Violence in Chicago
and in Greater New York. Maynard Shipley.

The Movement towards "Physiological Psychology."
Professor R. M. Wenley.

The Nature, Origin and Function of Humor. Dr.
Linus W. Kline.

A Bacteriological Study of Soiled Paper Money.
Warren W. Hilditch.

Facts concerning Milk. Dr. A. E. P. Rockwell.

Shall Our Forest Wealth be destroyed? Thomas
Elmer Will.

The Progress of Science.

Dartmouth College and the Summer Meeting of
the American Association for the Advancement
of Science ; International Congress and Perman-
ent International Bureaus ; Scientific Items.

CONTENTS OF SEPTEMBER NUMBER

The Botanical Gardens of Ceylon. Professor
Francis Ramaley.

The Prehistoric Aborigines of Minnesota and their
Migrations. N. H. Winchell.

The Movement toward "Physiological " Psychology.
Professor R. M. Wenley.

The Practical Value of Pure Science. Professor
Thos. Montgomery, Jr.

The Physique of Scholars, Athletes and the Average
Student. Professor D. A. Sargent.

Modern and Early Work upon the Question of Root
Excretions. Howard S. Rehd.

Silver. Thos. F. Van Wagenen.

Japanese Handwriting. Dr. E. W. Scripture.

The Progress of Science :

The Life and Letters of Herbert Spencer ; The
Financial Status of the Professor in the United
States and in Germany ; Scientific Items.

The MONTHLY will be sent to new subscribers for six months for One Dollar
SUBSCRIPTION ORDER

To THE SCIENCE PRESS,

Publishers of THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
Sub-Station 84, New York City.

Please find enclosed check or money order for three dollars, subscrip-
tion to THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY for one year, begin-
ning October, 1908.

Please find enclosed from a new subscriber one dollar (sent at your
risk), subscription for six months to THE POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY, beginning October, 1908.

Name.

Address...

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Yearly Subscription, $3,00

THE SCIENCE PRESS

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Sub-Station 84: NEW YORK

press o»tm« ncw en* Paulina ookk.ht

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It is simple and staunch in con-
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practically dust proof. It is pro-
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which permits its being readily
carried without injury to the fine
adjustment. The objectives are
of the highest quality.

Complete with 1 6mm. and 4mm.
objectives, 25mm. eye-piece,
$29. 50. With double nose-piece,
$33.50.

Catalog on request. Send for Booklet of Ganong Botanical Ap-
paratus. It will interest every teacher of botany.

DDIC1V/I ISA LITTLE MAGAZINE OF LENS
rrvlOlVl INFORMATION. SEND FOR COPY

•JOCK NAME ON A FIELD GLASS, PHOTOGRAPHIC LENS, MI-
CROSCOPE, LABORATORY APPARATUS, SCIENTIFIC OR ENGI-
NEERING INSTRUMENT IS A MARK OF QUALITY.

Bausch & Lomb Optical Company

Cail Zeiss, Jena
Offices:
New York
Boston

Chicago

George N. Saegmuller
San Francisco
Washington
London
Frankfort

ROCHESTER, N. Y.

WATSON & SONS' [RAW MICROSCOPE

This model is a
favorite one with
British students
and it is especially
advantageous be-
cause additions
may be made to it
as may he found
necessary or con-
venient.

It has Watson's
diagonal rack-work
coarse adjustment
and perfected lever
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The stage is covered
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Vol. LXXIII. No. 5. NOVEMBER, 1908

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY

EDITED BY J. McKEEK CATTELL

CONTENTS

Deductions from the Records of Running in the Last Olympiad. Pro-
fessor A. E. Kennblly 385

Monte Alban and Mitla as the Tourist sees them. Professor Charles

Joseph Chamberlain 392

The Rotation of Crops. Samuel Fraser 403

The Public School Teacher in a Democracy. Dr. Henry R. Linville . 413

Celibate Education To-day. E. S 423

The Inadequacy of Speech. Dr. Chas. W. Super 429

Zoology. Professor Henry E. Crampton 441

Experiments with Langley's Aerodrome. The Late Dr. S. P. Langley . 462

The Progress of Science :

The Fiftieth Anniversary of the Announcement of the Theory of Natural Selection ; The
Dublin Meeting of the British Association; The Present Pandemic of the Plague;
Scientific Items. 475

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Vol. I. General Considerations of Farms, Climates and Soils. Now ready.

Vol. II. Farm Crops — General Facts relating to Plant Production : Individual Farm Crops.

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Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology

Written by many hands and Edited by J. MARK BALDWIN, LL.D., with the eo-operation of an Inter-
national Board of Consulting Editors, and Bibliographies by DR. RAND.

In three volumes : Volume I, $8 ; Volume II, $8 ; Volume III, (t'ra two parts) $10 net.
Volume III contains the "Bibliography of Philosophy, Psychology, and Cognate Subjects," by
Benjamin Rand, of Harvard University, in two parts.

Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers

A new edition of a work which has no rival for completeness and trustworthiness. Thoroughly re-
vised, with over 1200 new biographies and more than 4000 alterations necessitated by modern research.

Five volumes, fully illustrated. Each $6.00 net.

Encyclopedia Biblica

Edited by The Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, D.D., and J. SUTHERLAND BLACK, LL.D., Assisted by many
Contributors in Great Britain, Europe and America. Cloth, $20 net ; half-morocco, $30 net.

Cyclopedia of American Horticulture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY, assisted by WILHELM MILLER and others. 9,000 pages, with S,S00 illus-
trations and 50 full-page plates. Four volumes, cloth, $20 net; half morocco, $32 net.

A Dictionary of Architecture and Building

By RUSSELL STURGIS, Fellow of American Inst, of Architecture, Author of " European Architee-
ture,'' etc., and many Architects, Painters, Engineers and ether Expert Writers, American and Foreign.
With Bibliographies, and over 1,500 illustrations. Three vols. Cloth, $18 net ; half-mor., $30 net.

Dictionary of Music and Musicians

By Sir GEORGE GROVE. Revised and greatly enlarged Edition, in Five Volumes. Each volume
illustrated with a photogravure and twenty-four full-page half-tone plates, besides many pictures in
the text. Cloth, 8vo. Volumes I. and II. now ready. Each $5.00 net, on orders for sets only.

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CONTENTS OF SEPTEMBER NUMBER

The Botanical Gardens of Ceylon. Professor
Francis Eamaley.

The Prehistoric Aborigines of Minnesota and their
Migrations. N. H. Winchell.

The Movement toward "Physiological " Psychology.
Professor R. M. Wenley.

The Practical Value of Pure Science. Professor

Thos. Montgomery, Jb.
The Physique of Scholars, Athletes and the Average

Student. Professor D. A. Sargent.

Modern and Early Work upon the Question of Root
Excretions. Howard S. Reed.

Silver. Thos. F. Van Wagenen.

Japanese Handwriting. Dr. E. W. Scripture.

The Progress of Science :

The Life and Letters of Herbert Spencer ; The
Financial Status of the Professor in the United
States and in Germany ; Scientific Items.

CONTENTS OF OCTOBER NUMBER
The Spoliation of the Falls of Niagara. Dr. J.
Spencer.

The Industriesof Niagara Falls

The Classification of Mathematics.
Miller.

W.

Raymond H. Arnot.
Professor G. A.

Professor

Academic Aspects of Administration.
Joseph Jastkow.

Something new in "Freewill." Professor George
Stuart Fullerton

The Specialist Blight on American Education. James
P. Munroe.

The Laws of Social Attraction. Professor Simon N-
Patten.

The Passing of the Sturgeon : A Case of the Unparal-
leled Extermination of a Species. Dr. Walter
Sheldon Tower.

Foreign Associates of National Societies. Professor
E. C. Pickering.

The Progress of Science.

Doctorates conferred by American Universities ;
Aerial Navigation ; The Photography of Aquatic
Animals in their Natural Environment ; Scientific
Items.

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Vol. LXXni. No. 6. DECEMBER, 1908

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY

EDITED BY J. McKEEN CATTELL
CONTENTS

The Cause of Pulsation. Db. Alfred Goldsbobough Mayeb .... 481
A Biographical History of Botany at St. Louis, Missouri. Dr. Pebley

Spaulding 488

The Application of Zoological Laws to Man. Professor William Kidgway 500

Canadian Wheat. Professor John Waddell . 523

College Standardization. Professor W. Le Conte Stevens 528

Aspects of Modern Biology. Professor T. D. A. Cockebell .... 540

Loyalty. Professor John C. Bbanneb 549

The Story of Professor Rontgen's Discovery. Elmeb Ellswobth Bubns 554
A Great Permian Delta and its Vertebrate Life, with Restorations by the

Author. Db. E. C. Case 557

The Progress of Science :

Two great University Presidents ; Scientific Items 569

Index to Volume LXXIII 573

THE SCIENCE PRESS

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Coptbight, 1908, BY THE SCIENCE PEESS

BOOKS OF PERMANENT, ALL-THE-YEAR-ROUND VALUE

Seven Great Works of Reference

VOLUME I AND II NOW READY

Cyclopedia of American Agriculture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY. Complete in Four Royal Octavo Volumes, with about 3,000 illustrations
in the text and 100 Full-page Plates. Price of the set, oloth, $20 net ; half morocco, $32 net.

Vol. I. General Considerations of Farms, Climates and Soils. Now ready.

Vol. II. Farm Crops — General Facts relating to Plant Production: Individual Farm Crops.

Now ready.

Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology

Written by many hands and Edited by J. MARK BALDWIN, LL.D., with the co-operation of an Inter'
national Board of Consulting Editors, and Bibliographies by DR. RAND.

In three volumes : Volume I, $8 ; Volume II, $8 ; Volume III, [in two parts) $10 net.
Volume III contains the "Bibliography of Philosophy, Psychology, and Cognate Subjects," by
Benjamin Rand, of Harvard University, in two parts.

Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers

A new edition of a work which has no rival for completeness and trustworthiness. Thoroughly re-
vised, with over 1200 new biographies and more than 4000 alterations necessitated by modern research.

Five volumes, fully illustrated. Each $6.00 net.

Encyclopedia Biblica

Edited by The Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, D.D., and j. SUTHERLAND BLACK, LL.D., Assisted by many
Contributors in Cheat Britain, Europe and America. Cloth, $20 net; half-morocco, $30 net.

Cyclopedia of American Horticulture

Edited by L. H. BAILEY, assisted by WILHELM MILLER and others. 8,000 pages, with S,800 illus-
trations and SO full-page plates. Four volumes, cloth, $20 net; half morocco, $32 net.

A Dictionary of Architecture and Building

By RUSSELL STURGIS, Fellow of American Inst, of Architecture, Author of "European Architec-
ture," etc., and many Architects, Painters, Engineers and ether Expert Writers, American and Foreign.
"With Bibliographies, and over 1,500 illustrations. Three vols. Cloth, $18 net ; half-mor., $30 net.

Dictionary of Music and Musicians

By Sir GEORGE GROVE. Revised and greatly enlarged Edition, in Five Volumes. Each volume
illustrated with a photogravure and twenty-four full-page half-tone plates, besides many pioturas in
the text. Cloth, 8vo. Volumes I. and II. now ready. Each $6.00 net, on orders for sets only.

Sold by subscription only. For full particulars as to special cash or instalment offers address

The Macmillan Company, ^newTork™'

The Popular Science Monthly

Entered in the Pott Office «n Laneaeter, Pa., as tecond-clasg matter.

CONTENTS OF OCTOBER NUMBER

The Spoliation of the Fulls of Niagara. Dr. J. W.
Spencer.

The Industries of Niagara Falls.

The Classification of Mathematics
Miller.

Academic Aspects of Administration.
Joseph Jastrow.

Raymon d H. Arkot.
Profe ssor 6. A.

Professor

Professor George

James

Something new in "Freewill."
Stuart Fullerton

The Specialist Blight on American Education.
P. Munroe.

The Laws of Social Attraction. Professor Simon N-
Patten.

The Passing of the Sturgeon : A Case of the Unparal-
leled Extermination of a Species. Dr. Walter
Sheldon Tower.

Foreign Associates of National Societies.
E. C. Pickering.

Professor

The Progress of Science.

Doctorates conferred by American Universities;
Aerial Navigation ; The Photography of Aquatic
Animals in their Natural Environment ; Scientific
Items.

CONTENTS OF NOVEMBER NUMBER

Deductions from the Records of Running in the Last
Olympiad. Professor A. E. Kennelly.

Monte Alban and Mitla as the Tourist sees them.
Professor Charles Joseph Chamberlain.

The Rotation of Crops. Samuel Fraskr .

The Public School Teacher in a Democracy.
Henry R. Linville.

Dr.

Celibate Education To-day. E. S.

The Inadequacy of Speech. Dr. Chas. W. Super.

Zoology. Professor Henry E. Crampton.

Experiments with Langley's Aerodrome . The Late
Dr. S. P. Langley.

The Progress of Science :

The Fiftieth Anniversary of the Announcement
of the Theory of Natural Selection ; The Dublin
Meeting of the British Association ; The Present
Pandemic of the Plague ; Scientific Items.

MP" The MONTHLY will be sent to new subscribers for six months for One Dollar

SUBSCRIPTION ORDER

To THE SCIENCE PRESS,

Publishers of THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
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MONTHLY, beginning December, 1908.

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<J Lantern C, complete with Electric Lamp, $50.00 ;
with Acetylene Burner, $45.00.

<| PRISM is a little magazine of lens information.
I][ Our name on a Laboratory Apparatus, Photographic Lens,
Field Glass, Microscope, Scientific or Engineering Instru-
ment is our Guarantee.

Bausch & Lomb Optical Co.

Cad Zeiss. Jena
Offices
New York
Boston

Chicago

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San Francisco
Washington
London
Frankfort

ROCHESTER. N. Y.

If you 'want
the Best

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Chocolate

in the World
insist on getting

Refracting and Reflecting

Astronomical Telescopes

Standard and Portable

\

Visual and Photographic

OBJECTIVES

Computed by our associate

DR. F. R. HOULTON

{Chicago University)

OBSERVATORIES

Specula, Planes, Eyepieces, etc.

Illustration shows 6 -in. with pneumatic clock.

Photographs and Circulars on request
LOHriANN BROS.

GREENVILLE, OHIO : : : : U. S. A.

MBL. WHOl LIBRARY

WH 1ANZ It)