■

. -

■

• ■

■

■

■

■

■

■

■ •

■

■
-

_

■

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THR

u,

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY

EDITED BY

J. McKEEN CATTELL

VOLUME LXXXVI|
JULY TO -DECEMBER; 1915

NEW YORK

THE SCIENCE PRESS

1915

Til

Copyright, 1914
The Science Pkess

I 3 0- / I

PRESS OF

THE NEW ERA PRINTING COMPANY

LANCASTER, PA.

T H. E

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY

JULY, 1915

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY.

By Peofessor JOHN MAXSON STILLMAN

STANFORD UNIVERSITY

THE period of the history of chemistry which I have chosen to
designate as the dawn of modern chemistry begins practically in
the early sixteenth century and extends well toward the latter part of
the eighteenth century. Not that the chemistry of that period shows
any very clear relation to the present state of chemical science, but
because at about the middle of the sixteenth century there was inaugu-
rated an era of activity in chemical thought and experimentation, which
has continued with steadily increasing velocity and productiveness to
the present time. The period referred to does not by any means mark
the beginnings of chemical arts or theories, for the beginnings of the
technical arts of chemistry may be traced back as far as recorded history.
The earliest records of Egyptian or Babylonian origin show that the
arts of metallurgy, the making of bronzes and other alloys, have been
practised, and uninterruptedly so, since at least some 3,500 years before
the Christian era. So also the manufacture of glass and pottery, the
coloring of glass and pottery, the manufacture of colors for dyeing and
painting, are of great antiquity. It is worthy of note also that these
technical arts of chemistry possessed since very ancient times a kind of
literature of their own in the form of recipes and directions for the
various processes of the special art. Such manuscripts were doubtless
not meant for public information, but for the use of the artisan alone,
and were transmitted from the master to the apprentice or successor for
his own use. The earliest original manuscript of this character known
to exist is a manuscript on papyrus written in the Greek language
which was discovered in an Egyptian tomb at Thebes, and is now pre-
served at Leyden. It dates from the third century of our era, and was
doubtless a manuscript which escaped the wholesale destruction of
alchemical and magical works in a.d. 290 by order of the Emperor
Diocletian, issued, as believed, to prevent the danger of the possible
making of gold by the alchemists and its resulting influence upon the

6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

currency system of the Empire. This work consists of recipes for the
testing of metals, their purification, their alloying, making of bronzes
and brasses, the coloring of metallic objects by superficial alloying,
imitations of gold, writing in gold letters, preparation of purple colors,
etc. Some hundred recipes in all are contained in this manuscript. It
is evidently based upon earlier works of similar character, and indeed
earlier works whose contents have been preserved to us through the
mediation of copies or abstracts by later writers evidence that the
ideas and methods were doubtless mostly centuries old when this
papyrus manuscript of Leyden was written. The researches of scholars,
notably of Berthelot, have shown how very similar, in many cases
identical, recipes to those of the papyrus of Leyden have been trans-
mitted through Eoman, Arabic and later languages in manuscript form,
probably uninterruptedly in Europe down to the beginning of the
printing of books.

It is believed that the Greeks originally derived their knowledge of
the chemical arts largely from Egypt, but that the ancient Greek
philosophers were the first to divorce the philosophy of chemistry from
the religious ideas and magical notions of the Egyptian priesthood
which with them obscured the logical reasoning from cause to effect,
or from effect to cause. However that may be, the Greeks were the
first sources of natural philosophy for European thought. And such
names as Thales, Democritus, Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle are
names that characterize the period of the height of clarity of Greek
philosophy somewhere from about 600 to 300 B.C.

At about the time when this papyrus of Leyden was written the
so-called Alexandrian School of Greek philosophers was dominant.
This later period of Greek philosophy was marked by much brilliancy
and genius, but was also characterized by a distinct influence from
Egyptian sources of oriental mysticism and occult philosophy.

The Eomans were the natural inheritors of Greek thought, and the
"Roman conquest of the civilized and much of the uncivilized world
again operated to spread the useful arts of chemistry as known to the
ancients, though Eoman influence did not contribute greatly to gen-
eralizing thought.

In a.d. 489 the Alexandrian Academy was destroyed by the Emperor
Zeno and its Greek scholars scattered. A body of these, mainly
Syrians, established themselves in Persia, where they continued the
study and teaching of the science of the Alexandrian school.

Barbaric invasion resulted in almost complete extinction of the
remains of Greek civilization in Europe. The Syrians in Persia were
the principal conservators of ancient science, and they continued to
preserve and reproduce the works of the ancient Greek writers.

In the seventh century occurred the great Mohammedan conquest
of the Mediterranean countries. The conquering Moslems overran

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 7

Persia and Syria. Fortunately they were impressed by the Syrian
scholarship, and Syrian scholars were given place in the courts of the
Caliphs, and such works of the science of the ancient Greeks as were
in their possession were translated into Syriac and Arabic, and thus
such authors as Euclid, Archimedes, Ptolemy, Hippocrates, Galen,
Zosimus and Aristotle became accessible to Arabian scholars and served
as the foundation to the science of the Arabians.

In the eleventh and twelfth centuries these Syrian schools were in
their turn suppressed by Mohammedan fanatics and the Arabians them-
selves became the principal guardians of ancient science. Arabian
translations of Greek authorities and the works of Arabian commenta-
tors, often translated into Latin, became the authoritative sources of
medieval science. So completely indeed had the original Greek works
disappeared from Europe that later centuries assumed that the Arabians
were the originators of much that they merely acquired and transmitted
from the ancient Greeks and Egyptians through Syrian and Arabian
translations. Arabian physicians, astronomers, mathematicians and
alchemists became the teachers of science to the Europe of the middle
ages.

The original literature of the ancient world having practically
disappeared from Europe during the early middle ages, science and
philosophy had reached a low ebb. The medieval Christian Church was
also discouraging in its attitude toward scientific discovery and philo-
sophic reasoning. Clerical authorities and the scholastic learning be-
came more and more intolerant of dissenting opinions or any kind of
free thought. Stagnation in science was the consequence, especially in
the natural sciences. In medicine, for example, experiment and inde-
pendent observation hardly existed. The works of Avicenna, Averroes,
Mesue and other Arabian interpreters of the Greek authors Galen and
Hippocrates were the recognized authorities, and even in the universi-
ties of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the teaching of medicine
consisted in reading and expounding the works of these authors. The
works of Galen and Hippocrates themselves were indeed hardly known
in their original purity, but as elaborated with infusions of Arabian
mysticism and superstitions, symbolism and astrology.

Other sciences exhibited similar tendencies. Astronomy had de-
generated from the rationality of Pythagoras or of Ptolemy into a
stereotyped Ptolemaism mixed with astrology. The doctrines of Aris-
totle as interpreted and corrupted by similar influences were the ac-
cepted natural philosophy. The condition of chemistry was similar.
While mining, metallurgy and other ancient arts of chemistry main-
tained their continuity in spite of barbarian invasions or Mohammedan
conquests, and gradually added to their store of useful facts, the
generalizations or theories which have always been essential to great
advances in science had deteriorated to a condition which might be

8 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTELY

called rudimentary even as compared with the earlier chemical phi-
losophy of Thales, Democritus or Aristotle. The early Greeks had at
least reasoned logically from the limited knowledge in their possession.
That their generalizations were often more metaphysical than scientific
resulted from the fact that their deductions were not based so much on
experiment as upon the observation of the more obvious natural
phenomena. And, however valuable metaphysical reasoning may be
for intellectual discipline, or as a tool in the critical analysis of observed
phenomena and their relations, it can not go beyond the facts involved
in its premises and can not materially advance the development of
experimental sciences. Thus it is safe to say that up to the fourteenth
or fifteenth centuries the natural and physical sciences presented few
advances and much retrogression from the best days of ancient Greek
science.

Arabian scholarship, however it may have contributed to mathe-
matics, astronomy and certain fields of physics, had brought to chem-
istry little new of value and much of confusion of mysticism and
superstition. This statement is largely justified by the results of
modern critical investigation which have shown that the works of
chemical character attributed to the authorship of Gheber, Avicenna
and other Arabian authors are quite generally fabrications of the
twelfth to fifteenth centuries, published under those names either to
obtain a wider circulation or to avoid the unpleasant consequences that
might visit the real authors for dabbling in a suspected or forbidden art.
Just as the medical science of the early Eenaissance was a medley of
Greek Galenism, oriental mysticism and medieval superstition, so the
chemical philosophy of the time was a medley of Aristotelian phi-
losophy, with similar infusions of oriental occultism. Many chemical
substances were known which to Greeks or Egyptians were unknown —
but in so far as any valuable body of theory is concerned, hardly an
advance had been made. The chemical theory of the time was mainly
of Greek and Egyptian origin filtered, as we have seen, through the
Syrian and Arabian sources and for centuries nearly without material
progress.

Let me attempt to present the main fundamental concepts of the
nature of matter and its changes which constituted the generally ac-
cepted chemical theory at the beginning of the sixteenth century,
whence we date the revival of chemistry.

The ancient Greeks entertained a very persistent notion of the essen-
tial unity of matter. They differed at various times and in different
schools of natural philosophy as to the formulation of this theory.
Thus some considered that water was the primal element from which
all others had been developed, others considered the air as the primal
element, others fire. Aristotle finally formulated the notion of the
constitution of matter which became the most generally accepted

TEE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 9

theory in later centuries. This was the theory of the five elements —
fire, air, water, earth and ether or essence. It seems very probable
that this theory was derived originally from ancient Hindoo philosophy,
because in ancient Hindoo classics it is more completely elaborated than
by Aristotle. The four elements — air, fire, water, earth — were not
considered as distinct elementary substances, according to our modern
definition of an element, but rather as determining qualities.

Thus fire combined the qualities of warmth and dryness; air —
warmth and moistness; water — cold and moistness; earth — cold and
dryness. All substances were considered as combinations of these ele-
mentary qualities, or in some sense as composed of these elements. The
fifth element, ether or "essence," was more subtle and less clearly de-
fined. It was supposed to be capable of taking all forms, and finally
came to be identified with the "materia prima," or primal matter, out
of which all other forms of matter were supposed to be born.

The Aristotelian notion of the four elements also implied the
possibility of the change of one element to another. Thus when water
evaporated by heat it became air ; that is, by the addition of warmth, it
changed from cold and moist to warm and moist, the properties of air.
This idea among later alchemists served to justify the notion of the
transmutability of the elements, that will-o'-the-wisp of chemists for
many centuries. But this idea of the possibility of transmuting one
element into another as of the baser metals into gold and silver re-
ceived greater vitality from the observations and experiences, of the
metallurgists upon the occurrence, preparation and alloys of the metals,

The metals known to the ancients were seven in number, gold, silver,
lead, mercury, iron, copper and tin, though they were not considered as
elements. Other metals indeed entered into their alloys, but they were
not recognized by them as separate or distinct from those already
named. Arsenic was known, though not considered as a metal. Bis-
muth and zinc and antimony began to be recognized as distinct sub-
stances about the beginning of the sixteenth century. As methods of
analysis were rudimentary even at this later date, and as there was no
realization of the concept of an element of unvarying composition and
properties, and as the metals were obtained in varying degrees of
purity or admixture, it can be understood how the changes in appear-
ance and properties of the metals, as obtained from their ores, was
believed to be due to a partial transmutation in the Aristotelian sense.

In the alloying of various metals, the character of the alloys was
changed in ways that easily suggested actual changes in the character
of the metals themselves. Thus we know that the Egyptians con-
sidered certain alloys of gold and silver as a distinct metal " electrum."
The frequent occurrence of some gold in silver as obtained from its
ores also easily suggested the idea that this gold had in some way been
produced from the silver.

io THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Hence, if by alloying certain metals they obtained a metal re-
sembling gold in color, this was perhaps really an approach to making
gold, and, if it had been possible to make such an alloy by any combina-
tion of materials as should answer all their known tests for gold, from
their standpoint it might well be real gold.

We can comprehend that if we considered an element only as a
combination of certain qualities and not as a specific simple substance —
there would be no a priori improbability in such an hypothesis.

Thus the experience of the chemists with the metals was the real
motive force in vitalizing and in modifying the ideas of the Greek
philosophers with respect to the nature of matter and its changes.
The attempt to imitate precious stones was another line of work which
helped to confirm these theories, though it may well be doubted whether
in all cases the alchemists were self-deceived as to their success in pro-
ducing the real articles even when they succeeded in passing them off as
genuine.

Nevertheless the accepted theory of the essential unity of matter
and of the possibility of transmuting one element or substance into
another was the working hypothesis that kept the alchemists, for so
many centuries, at their vain labors. As the study of the metals and
their uses formed so large a part of chemical activity, there also grew up
in time special theories as to the origin and changes of metals. One
of the oldest of these can also be traced to the Egyptians and to Plato —
the notion that mercury bears a peculiar relation to the origin of the
metals. Among the Egyptians lead occupied a similar position, but
the substitution of mercury in this role took place as early as Plato.

The very peculiar properties of mercury — argentum vivum, the
liquid living silver, quick-silver — and the strange manner in which it
lost its identity in combination and in alloys with other metals gave rise
to a theory that it was the source of the other metals. And again, as
with other metals, it might not always be the same in composition and
properties, the idea developed that not the ordinary mercury, but a
mystical purified mercury — the so-called " mercury of the philosophers "
was a constituting element in all the metals.

So also sulphur bore a prominent relation to the occurrence and to
the furnace reactions of metallic ores. Its combustibility, its fre-
quent presence in metallic ores, the combinations with metals and the
colors of these combinations — the red or black of its mercury combina-
tions— the black copper compound — the yellow or red of arsenic com-
pounds— etc., endowed it also with a mysterious relation to the metals,
and it also became considered as a constituting element of the metals.
Arsenic, which acts very similarly to sulphur in many such compounds,
was sometimes associated with it in that role. And here again was
assumed not ordinary sulphur, but a fancied perfect sulphur — the
"sulphur of the philosophers."

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY n

Again the seven metals were associated with the seven planets of
the ancients — gold with the sun, silver with the moon, copper with
Venus, lead with Saturn, iron with Mars, mercury with Mercury, tin
with Jupiter, and these planets were supposed to exert influences upon
the generation and development or perfection of the metals in the earth.
The base metals were often supposed to be undergoing a gradual de-
velopment toward perfection. This development toward perfection,
that is, toward silver and gold, might be influenced by many factors,
such as the relative quantities of their sulphurs or their mercuries, the
relative purity or degree of perfection of these mercuries or sulphurs,
the time and local conditions of their position in the earth and the
influences of their planets. It was not considered improbable that
chemists might by experiment devise means to hasten this natural
growth.

These notions I believe fairly summarize the quite generally enter-
tained theories which make up the representative chemical theory at
the beginning of the sixteenth century. But this beginning of the
sixteenth century is the period of the full flower of the Eenaissance.
The first impulse to this period of remarkable activity in all domains
of human thought originated in Italy, and at least as early as the
thirteenth century. It began with a renewed interest in ancient Greek
and Roman literature and art, naturally also a fresh interest in phi-
losophy. It was fostered by the Florentine Academy under the pro-
tection of the Medici, though its influence soon spread to other parts
of Europe. A new spirit of criticism was awakened, and even the
church was invaded by a long-forgotten stimulus to freedom of thought
and discussion. As the movement spread, the aroused interest of men
in all domains of human activity gave rise to many great movements.
In the thirteenth century were founded the universities of Padua,
Bologna, Salerno, Salamanca, Paris, Montpelier, Oxford and Cam-
bridge. Some of these trace their foundation to clerical schools of even
earlier date — but grew to importance and influence under the new
impulse.

In the fourteenth century the German universities of Vienna,
Prague and Heidelberg were founded, and the fifteenth century was
marked by a rapid increase in the number of German and French uni-
versities and in their influence. An influence of similar importance to
that of the universities of the time — and perhaps even surpassing that
influence — arose from the invention of printing from movable metal
types which occurred about the middle of the fifteenth century. The
revival of interest in ancient literature as well as the promulgation of
new ideas was vastly stimulated by the possibility of making written
works accessible to a vastly increased constituency, and the interchange
of information and ideas thus made possible contributed enormously to
the great intellectual development which we call the renaissance. The

i2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

civilized world became stimulated to new thoughts and to new enter-
prises, one might almost say it became intoxicated with great ideas
and great ventures.

Natural science was the last field of thought to feel the new im-
pulse, and in chemistry there was little evidence of progress until the
sixteenth century. The representative chemical authors known to the
fifteenth century were Arnald of Villanova, the unknown writers who
wrote under the name of Eaimundus Lullus (or Lully) and unknown
writers who wrote chemistry under the name of Gheber, or of Albertus
Magnus. All these writings were obscure in style and contributed little
to the knowledge of chemistry or to clear thinking. The chemists of
the period might be classified into two groups — artisans who were not
generally of university education, working by traditional methods in
their respective arts and not addicted to writing or philosophizing; and
the learned class, usually physicians, sometimes clericals. Some in-
terest in chemistry existed but was mainly confined to the efforts to dis-
cover the transmutation of metals or the elixir of life. Chemical facts
were at times developed by their efforts, but disappointments and disil-
lusions had brought the chemical theories of the ancients and alchemists
into general stagnation and disrepute. Cornelius Agrippa, writing about
1530, quotes a proverb of the time — " An alchymist is either a physician
or a soap boiler."

Four men notably mark the beginning of a new era in chemical
activity, Theophrastus von Hohenheim (called Paracelsus), Georg
Bauer (called Agricola), Vannuccio Biringuccio and Bernard Palissy.

Paracelsus was born in Switzerland in 1493; Agricola in Saxony
in 1494; Biringuccio of Siena, Italy, probably about the same time;
while Palissy was born in France and his birth year is variously given
as 1499 and 1510.

We can better appreciate the stimulating intellectual atmosphere of
the period in which these men lived if we recall that the span of their
lives touched the life times of Michelangelo, Macchiavelli, Leonardo da
"Vinci, Ariosto, Eafael, Eabelais, Copernicus, Vesalius, Thomas More,
Columbus, Cortez, Cardanus, Martin Luther, Erasmus and Savonarola.

Three of the four chemists mentioned — Agricola, Biringuccio and
Palissy — may be said, each in his own line and country, to have laid the
foundations of modern chemical technology. Each of them wrote an
almost epoch-making work in a particular field of applied chemistry
and exerted a powerful impetus toward raising the profession of
technical chemist above the rank of Agrippa's "soap-boiler."

Biringuccio's work was published in 1540 in Italian under the title
of " Pirotechnia." It treats of the metals, the semi-metals, their ores
and minerals, and of some salts; of the alloys of the metals, their
manufacture and uses. It contains also recipes for the use of the
goldsmiths, the potters and other artisans. It is important as an

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 13

attempt to give a sober, sensible and intelligent description of the
technical chemistry within his knowledge. It is interesting also be-
cause it preceded the greater work of Agricola by about sixteen years
and is mentioned by the latter as having been in his hands, though it
contained little that was of use to him.

While Biringuccio is known only through his one book, the works
of Agricola are more numerous. They are chiefly upon minerology,
mining or geology. He began publishing about 1530, but his great
work, "De re Metallic," appeared in 1556. Agricola was a man of
university training, and a scholar of fine type. He had studied in
Italy and was a physician by profession. He was city physician at
Joachimsthal in Bohemia, and later at Chemnitz in Saxony. His
location in these mining centers gave him ample opportunity to become
interested in mining and mineralogy and in the chemical operations
used in metallurgy and assaying. The great work above referred to is
for the time a very remarkably clear description of the operations of
mining, smelting and assaying, with very complete description of the
chemistry of these arts as known to the miners of the time and region.
He does not claim apparently to have contributed original work to
these arts, but the work of Agricola may justly be considered as the
first really great work in the line of the scientific presentation of a
chemical industry, a worthy pioneer to the many great technical works
which have since appeared in so many lines of chemical industry. Its
influence in its own field was immediate, as shown by the later editions
called for and even still more by the number of similar though less
important treatises which followed its appearance.

Bernard Palissy was a man of much less scholarship than Agricola.
What he lacked in that respect he compensated for in an unconquerable
enthusiasm in experimentation in the field which most interested him — >
the making of pottery and its glazes and enamels. He was a real inves-
tigator in his field, and his published works describe his experiments
and discuss them clearly with neither the dogmatism nor the mystical
jargon that most chemical writings of the previous centuries, or even
of the subsequent century, exhibit. His works published between 1557
and 1580 may be said to have done much the same for the arts of
the potter that the work of Agricola did for mining and the chemistry
of metallurgy, with the difference that Palissy's work was rather a pres-
entation of the result of his own labors than a complete compendium
of existing knowledge and practise as was the " De re Metallica."

It can not be claimed either for Agricola or for Palissy that they
were free from the prevalent superstitions or mystical ideas that were
almost universally entertained in their century — but it can be asserted
that they kept their constructive labor and thought free from obstruc-
tion from such notions. Both repudiated the transmutation ideas of
the alchemists as vain and profitless, and both endeavored to make their

i4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

knowledge and their ideas as comprehensible as possible for their suc-
cessors or contemporaries. Theirs was the spirit of service and that
is also the spirit of modern science.

The work of these three chemists, however scientific its spirit and
method, was not such as to affect immediately the thought of the time
in lines outside of the industries they represented, nor to influence the
chemical notions of the university faculties — mainly interested in phi-
losophy and medicine.

The fundamental basis of chemical theory of the middle ages — the
rudimentary chemical philosophy of the Greek-Arabian philosophers
and alchemists — was not seriously affected by the work of these pioneers.

It is to Paracelsus that we are indebted for the impetus that was to
inaugurate a broader and livelier interest in chemical activity and in
chemical theories. Paracelsus was a man of very different type from
his three colleagues already mentioned. A physician by training and
profession, as his father was before him, he had traveled much and far —
from Sweden to Italy, and from France to Bohemia — as an army sur-
geon, student or itinerant doctor. Brought up in childhood and in
early manhood in mining countries, he had early become interested in
the chemistry of the metals and had himself worked in the laboratories
of the mines. He was a man of original power, restless activity, great
energy and a natural-born revolutionary.

The early influence of philosophers of the fantastic neo-platonic
natural philosophy of the Florentine Academy and its followers, had
shaken his faith in the accepted Aristotelian and Galenic philosophy
which was the basis of medical theory and medical teaching of the time.
This revolt from the traditional dogmas, combined with manifestly
acute powers of observation and an open mind for such medical or chem-
ical practises or ideas as he met with in the course of his extensive expe-
riences among all classes of people in many lands, resulted apparently
in enabling him to surpass the conventionally restricted medical prac-
tise of his time in the successful treatment of many diseases. His repu-
tation as a brilliant and able physician attracted early the notice of
some of the noted scholars at Basel — and Paracelsus was called to that
city as city physician and professor in the university. In his teaching
he at once began opposing the conventional dogmas and the antiquated
practise of medicine. The history of medicine and the testimony of
learned critics of the period such as Erasmus, Agrippa, and Peter
Eamus give ample evidence that the time was ripe for a reform in medi-
cine. For centuries all initiative had been discouraged by the ac-
cepted infallibility of the traditional Greek and Arab authorities. The
medical practise was based on analogical reasonings, and astrology,
charms, incantations and exorcisms played an important part. To
question the foundations of the medical theory or to introduce innova-

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 15

tions in medical practise was unpardonable heresy to the guild of
physicians.

Paracelsus must be credited with the ability to appreciate the fail-
ings of the profession and with courage and ability with which he ad-
dressed himself to the task of breaking down the wall of inertia and
tradition behind which the medical profession had entrenched itself.
In this task he found but scant assistance from within the fold. On
the contrary, he soon aroused the liveliest animosity and the most bitter
opposition on the part of medical faculties. But opposition did not dis-
courage him. His was the spirit of the propagandist and the fanatic,
and antagonism and persecution but intensified the earnestness and
the energy with which he labored for the spread of his revolutionary
doctrines. That he might appeal to a wider constituency than the
hostile academically trained profession, he followed the example of
Martin Luther in discarding the use of the Latin language in lectures
and writings, and wrote and spoke in his native German. This was
also a flagrant offense against professional etiquette and helped to widen
the breach between the medical schools and Paracelsus and his pupils
and followers.

Irritated by the attacks of his colleagues, he retorted by publicly
burning the Canon of Avicenna, as Luther had burned the papal bull,
and similarly to show his contempt for the assumed infallibility of the
ancient authorities of medicine.

The lines of attack of Paracelsus upon the medical doctrines of his
time were mainly three. First: Not the authority of the ancient au-
thors, but observation and experiment must serve as the basis of medical
diagnosis and treatment. Second: The substances of the human body
are chemically constituted, the processes of the body are chemical proc-
esses and hence chemistry must form one of the foundations of rational
medicine. Third : The use of the complex mass of decoctions of rare
and costly herbs which served as the basis of the Galenic physicians'
practise was not founded on reason, but on superstition. In his view
every medicinal plant or mineral has an essential principle or spirit and
to find and purify these and to apply them to the cure of diseases is a
worthy and important aim of chemistry.

Many interesting and valuable improvements in medical practise
are attributed to Paracelsus, but it is not the early history of medicine
that interests us here except as it is involved with the development of
chemistry.

The works of Paracelsus were apparently written between 1526 and
his death in 1541, and therefore were written before the publication of
the work of the three chemists above mentioned. They are, as collected,
a voluminous mass and of heterogeneous character, medical, surgical,
philosophical, chemical and theological.

In harmony with his notions of the value of chemically prepared

1 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

medicines he introduced into the practise many remedies not authorized
nor sanctioned by the medical schools. Preparations of antimony, iron,
mercury and opium were prominent among these, and apj:>arently were
employed with success in his own practise. To the chemists he espe-
cially appealed to abandon the vain search for the making of gold and
silver — "the threshing of empty straw" — and to devote their energy
and skill to the preparation of new remedies, and to their application
to medicine.

But few of the works of Paracelsus were printed during his lifetime.
In several cases the reason for this can be directly traced to the opposi-
tion of the medical faculties and their influence upon the public censors
or publishers. But he did not cease writing on that account, and some
twenty years after his death there began the active publication of his
manuscripts. Some of these were autograph manuscripts — others more
or less complete copies, or lecture notes edited or expanded by former
pupils — some of doubtful authenticity, and others known to be fabrica-
tions published by anonymous writers. It is still difficult in many cases
to be certain as to the authenticity of some of the many treatises attrib-
uted to him. Their popularity and influence during the succeeding
century was very great, as is evidenced by the fact that the Paracelsus
bibliography by Sudhoff enumerates no less than 390 titles of printed
publications up to 1658, when the last and best known Latin edition of
his collected works made its appearance. Among these were four edi-
tions of his collected works in German and two in Latin.

Through the mass of writings of Paracelsus are scattered, rather
than systematically gathered, the chemical facts and theories which
comprise his contribution to chemical literature. Together they form
a considerable body of chemical knowledge, descriptions of chemical
processes and substances known in his time with much of speculative
theory. There is no evidence that he added in any important way to
the chemical knowledge of his time. Though the first announcement
of some chemical facts appear in his writings, he makes no assumption
of originality in their announcement, any more than do Agricola and
Biringuccio in their works. It was rather by his evident familiarity
with the chemistry of his time, and the novel and radical application
of chemical preparations in the practise of medicine, that he challenged
the attention of the chemists of his time. Here his influence was epoch-
making. In the field of chemical theory he shows greater originality,
and while much of his speculations are fantastic in the fashion of the
philosophy of the time, yet in other directions he exerted important
influence.

One very influential contribution to chemical theory, however, is to
be attributed to Paracelsus. This was the theory of the three prin-
ciples— the "tria prima." It will be remembered that the early al-
chemists had recognized the peculiar relation of sulphur to the occur-

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 17

rence and changes of the metals — the sulphur of the philosophers — and
similarly with respect to arsenic and mercury. Upon these vague and
variously formulated hypotheses Paracelsus founded his more consistent
theory.

All matter was, according to Paracelsus, constituted of three prin-
ciples, sulphur, mercury and salt. Sulphur, he explains, is that which
burns — the principle which renders bodies in any degree combustible
and yielding heat. Mercury was that principle of bodies which renders
them liquid or volatile, which enables them to melt on heating or to
pass off as a vapor by distillation or volatilization. Salt was the prin-
ciple which resists the action of heat — the ash or the non-combustible
and non-volatile constituents of matter. It will be observed that this
is a generalization of the properties of substances based upon the obser-
vation of their behavior towards the various degrees of heat to which
they were subjected in the customary processes of roasting, distillation,
ignition or reduction (this word also we first find in Paracelsus).

The doctrine of the three principles of Paracelsus possessed that
advantage over the Aristotelian elements — fire, water, earth, air — in
that it was more closely related to experiment and experience and not
so purely metaphysical. It could serve as a kind of working hypothesis
to help understand the results of chemical experiment. The tria prima
received early recognition in chemistry. The very celebrated work
called the "Triumphal Chariot of Antimony." written about 1600 and
passed off on the public as a translation of an early manuscript by an
alleged Benedictine monk, Basil Valentine, adopted and helped to give
a wider circulation to this theory. It became almost universally ac-
cepted by the chemists of the seventeenth • century, and such popular
text-books as those of the French chemists, Christopher G-laser and
Nicholas Lemery, placed it at the foundation of chemical theory (the
latter as late as 1713).

In the latter part of the seventeenth century, Becher introduced a
variation of this theory, by placing, instead of sulphur, a terra pingnis,
as the combustible constituent, fat or oil having, in so far as its com-
bustibility is concerned, a similar behavior to sulphur — for mercury
and salt he substituted a terra mercurialis (mercurial earth) and a terra
lapidis (or stony earth),

This in itself was no advance, but Becher's pupil, Stahl, and his
followers elaborated this sulphur of Paracelsus or terra pinguis of
Becher into the idea of a more abstract heat substance, phlogiston, while
the less useful hypotheses of the mercury and salt gradually disappeared.

In the eighteenth century under the influence of such able chemists
as Scheele, Black, Cavendish and Priestley the phlogiston theory became
the most inspiring theory to stimulate the observation and researches
of chemists. Only at the close of the eighteenth century when the

VOL. LXXXVII. — 2.

1 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

phlogiston theory was no longer adequate to explain all known facts
were the facts it attempted to explain re-interpreted by the genius of
Lavoisier in terms of the modern theory of oxidation and reduction.

In considering the value and influence of all these now abandoned
theories, we should keep in mind that the value of a theory in science
at a particular epoch depends not so much upon its absolute truth or
reality as upon the extent that it assists in classifying and accounting
for observed facts and in stimulating to new observations or experiments.

It will be seen how the above theories are linked together and how
each served for its own century and prepared the way for its successor.
Nevertheless, the greatest service which Paracelsus contributed, to the
development of chemistry was in the influence which his teaching and
his example and his widely published works exerted in battering down
the wall of infallible dogma that for centuries had protected the doc-
trines of medicine from any important development from the side of its
relation to chemistry. His unceasing criticism of the defects of the
theory and practise of the ancient authorities, his trenchant arguments
for a broader experimental basis for the science, his severe arraignments
of the ignorance and venality of the physicians of his time ; his ridicule
and defiance of their sacred authorities, together with the constant reit-
erations of the knowledge of chemistry as essential to understanding
the life processes in health and disease, exerted a powerful influence not
indeed so much upon the university faculties or the physicians schooled
in their doctrines as upon the younger and more progressive generation
of students. Also his appeal to the chemists as such to find in the
future of medicine a field of endeavor more promising of success than
the as yet unrewarded efforts for the transmutation of the base metals
into gold, found much following among those who were interested
in the study of chemistry. If we recall that most of the scholarly
trained chemists were also physicians, we can understand how this com-
bination of medical and chemical aims advocated by Paracelsus found
fertile soil among young physicians and medical students as among
chemists of less conventional training.

That this is true is shown, not only by the tremendous vogue of his
printed works, but also by the fierce contest which for a century split
the medical profession of Europe into hostile and embittered factions
of Paracelsists and anti-Paracelsists — adherents of the new chemical
medicines and advocates of the older Galenic remedies.

While the greatest service of Paracelsus was to shatter confidence
in dogmas revered for the sake of their authors' great names, the new
doctrines which he set up to replace the dogmas he combated were, in
many respects, as fantastic and unscientific as the earlier ones. Never-
theless, the shattering of the blind faith in traditional teachings, which
gave to Paracelsus his popularity and following, necessarily operated
also to prevent his new doctrines from becoming considered as sacred

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 19

or infallible. Free criticism and independent thought once aroused
could not again be contented with blind adhesion to any unchanging
system of doctrines.

Very naturally the period of chemical activity following the shat-
tering of long-accepted dogmas was characterized by many wild and
fantastic notions. Many of the most extravagant claims of alchemy
and of marvelous medical nostrums are found in the literature of the
latter part of the sixteenth and of the first half of the seventeenth
century. But much was done, on the other hand, in developing chem-
ical facts. Men like Van Helmont and Glauber, while retaining much
of the mysticism and obscurity of Paracelsus and earlier chemists, yet
contributed in no unimportant way to the constructive work of adding
to established chemical facts as the result of their experiments, though
indeed contributing little of permanent value to chemical theory or
generalization. Chemists were generally either adherents of the Aris-
totelian elements, or of the three elements of Paracelsus, according as
they belonged to the conservative or radical parties. Nevertheless,
there was much independent speculation and theorizing, though rarely
on a scientific basis. The new freedom found expression in extrava-
gances of ignorance and superstition, in charlatanry and imposture, as
well as in much earnest and valuable labor. But at all events, chem-
istry was now, at last, very much alive, and the mission of chemistry
was at last recognized as of importance and dignity. Werner Eolfink,
professor of anatomy, surgery, botany, medicine and chemistry at Mar-
burg, is said to have been the first officially recognized professor of
chemistry in Germany- — a.d. 1629. A chair of chemistry was estab-
lished early in the same century at the University of Paris, and a Scotch
physician, William Davisson, was the first incumbent. In 1635 he
published a text-book on chemistry for the use of his students, a work
which passed through many editions.

The University of Leyden is credited with the first chemical labo-
ratory at a European university, and the distinguished De la Boe
Sylvius was the professor of the theory and practise of chemistry as well
as of medicine. He was a strong adherent of the chemical medicines.
Other early university laboratories were at Altorf, 1663, Stockholm,
1683.

Thus was beginning to be realized the ideal so confidently main-
tained though vaguely realized by Paracelsus, of exalting the study of
chemistry and recognizing its importance in the development of medi-
cal science. How important the interrelation of these two sciences was
to be in our day revealed, not even the imagination of Paracelsus could
have dreamed.

As Paracelsus in the sixteenth century gave the first important im-
pulse to the development of modern chemistry, so, in the middle of
the seventeenth century. Sir Eobert Boyle may be said to have inaugu-

2o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

rated a new epoch in chemistry by his remarkably sane and sound criti-
cisms of the chemical thought and theories of the time. Boyle was a
broadly and thoroughly trained scholar of the time, and prominent in
many lines of activity. He was one of the founders of the Royal So-
ciety of England and at one time its president. He was also a man of
wealth, but his main interest was in experimenting in chemistry and
physics, and many notable observations stand to his credit. Every
student of chemistry or physics knows of Boyle's law of gases.

It is not, however, by his experimental work — valuable as it was —
that he exerted the greatest influence, but rather by his extended and
frecjuent careful and scientific criticisms of the prevalent chemical theo-
ries, both the Aristotelian and Paracelsan theories, of the nature of
substances and matter. Particularly by his work published in 1G61
entitled "The Sceptical Chymist,'" in which, rather verbosely, but with
great thoroughness and yet with great tolerance and patience, he sub-
mits the theories of the time to really constructive criticism. By a
wealth of facts and experimental illustrations he demonstrates the
purely metaphysical character of both the prevalent theories, and grad-
ually develops the only consistent concept of an element which was
possible for his time — namely, any substance which no experimental
evidence could show to be reducible to simpler substances. He makes
indeed, no attempt to say that any particular known substance is indeed
an element in the sense of his characterization, though one might infer
from his discussion that gold and silver were as well deserving of the
title as any substances known to him, as he has never been able to
obtain anything else from them or to know of any reliable experiments
with such results. Unlike Paracelsus, or Glauber, or Van Helmont, or
their imitators, Boyle was no dogmatist, being slow to assert and yet
open-minded to any facts and very respectful to the opinions of others,
though not in the least dominated by them.

The " Sceptical Chymist" of Boyle, as well as others of his writings,
had a very wide circulation throughout the continent as well as in Great
Britain, and his sane and persuasive reasoning, free from mysticism,
and based on legitimate inferences from observed facts, made a great
impression upon scientific men. While he offered no theory to replace
the discredited Aristotelian and Paracelsan theories of the constitution
of matter, he transferred the emphasis of chemical thought horn a priori
speculation to rational deductions from observed phenomena, and,
though these might often be imperfect or mistaken, yet chemical rea-
soning was launched upon a course which could only lead to clearer
understanding and to more soundly established theories.

The century following Boyle may be well characterized as the phlo-
gistic period, because the representative chemists of that period were
largely occupied in systematizing chemical actions with reference to
that theory.

THE DAWN OF MODERN CHEMISTRY 21

The fundamental notion of this theory was, as we have mentioned, a
development from the combustible and heat-giving sulphur of Para-
celsus to the notion of a heat substance, phlogiston, which constituted
a part of all combustible or, as we should say, oxidizable substances.
The phenomena of combustion or oxidation were in terms of this theory
due to a loss of phlogiston — the phenomena of reduction to a gain of
phlogiston. It is just to say of this theory that it proved a fertile and
valuable hypothesis to the science of chemistry in developing a vast
amount of excellent experimental work and of comprehensive generali-
zations. We have only to recall the names of Scheele, Priestley, Marg-
graf, Black and Cavendish to realize the class of chemists whose labors
were influenced and stimulated by the adoption of this theory.

Two serious obstacles to continuous progress were, however, inher-
ent in this theory. The supposed phlogiston could not be separated
or isolated and weighed. It could not be known whether it had a posi-
tive weight in combination, or whether it could affect in any definite
or determinable way the weight of other substances. It might even
have the effect of buoyancy or of diminishing the weight of substances
witli which it was combined, and so long as such ideas were held the
weights as given by the balance could not be depended upon to give the
real quantitative relations of chemical reactions.

The second obstacle this theory offered to chemical development lay
in the fact that so long as this theory was maintained no identification
of substances as elements was possible. Boyle had given us a proper
definition of an element, but so long as such oxidizable substances as
phosphorus, sulphur, iron, zinc or carbon were considered as combi-
nations of phlogiston with other substances (viz., their oxides) and so
long as the products of combustion, such as we now know, as the oxides
of phosphorus, sulphur, iron, etc., were considered as products of the
loss of phlogiston, and therefore to that extent simpler or more nearly
elementary than the combustibles from which they were produced, it is
manifest that the elementary character of most of the known elements
could not have been recognized. It required the insight of Lavoisier
to discern the real nature of combustion and reduction, and to banish
at last the element phlogiston from the weighable factors of chemical
reactions.

But with this period of chemistry, the dawn of modern chemistry
was past and the sun was shining brightly above the horizon.

22 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE FLORAL FEATURES OF CALIFORNIA

By Dr. LeROY ABRAMS

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF BOTANY. STANFORD UNIVERSITY

SHUT off from eastern North American by the high Sierra wall, that
formidable harrier to the eastern and western migration of plant,
as well as animal life, and possessing a climate unlike that of any other
part of the continent, California has developed a flora that is unique.
Indeed, isolation has been so complete that the California flora, with
its host of peculiar or endemic species and even genera, displays many
qualities characteristic of an insular flora, such as one might expect to
find on a remote oceanic island. To the traveler familiar with the flora
of the Mississippi Valley or of the Atlantic States, California plants
seem as foreign as those of southern Europe. Species of such well-
known genera as Quercus. Primus and Rhamnus (the oak, the cherry
and the buckthorn) are so unlike their eastern relatives in foliage and
general aspect that their true relationship is revealed only on close
scrutiny.

But if the Sierra wall with its snow-clad summits has been an
effective barrier to the eastern ami western migration of plants, it has
been likewise effective as a pathway for the southern migration of
northern plants. And the warm valleys and foothills that lie at its
base have been similar pathways for the northern migration of southern
types. We find, therefore, the California flora composed of three dis-
tinct elements, the Californian, the Boreal, and the Mexican.

The Californian element, as recently discovered fossils prove, was
established before the Glacial Period, and through its preservation from
the destructive ice sheet, California has been able to hand down such
a priceless heritage as the sequoias, an all hut extinct race that at one
time flourished over North America, Europe and Asia, extending as far
north as Greenland and Spitzbergen. With the sequoias have come
clown many other conifers, making the California coniferous forests the
richest in the world.

The Boreal or northern element, pushed southward by the ice sheet
of the Glacial Period, formed a belt on the California mountains below
5,000 to 8,000 feet, the perpetual snow line of the ice age. At the end
of the period, the ice retreated upward and northward, followed by the
boreal plants, with the result that we now have arctic and subarctic
species stranded on mountain tops a thousand miles or more south of
their general range.

The Mexican element has migrated, largely since the Glacial Period,

THE FLORAL FEATURES OF CALIFORNIA 23

from the south through the desert and Great Basin regions following
increased aridity. The great Mexican Plateau was the original home
of most of the strictly American genera now found throughout arid
and semiarid western America. On this plateau a drought-resisting
flora existed in the Miocene age, when the greater part of the United
States from the Atlantic to the Pacific was covered with a rich decidu-
ous forest, comprising such trees as the beach, elm and magnolia — a
tvpe of flora that still persists in the southern Atlantic States.

The role played by climate in California has augmented that of
isolation. Without its peculiarities and diversities the rich and varied
California flora would never have been evolved. California climate is
lauded the- world over. Yet the term means little and is misleading
as it carries the impression of uniform climate. Naturally within a
state extending through more than nine degrees of latitude, 769 miles,
one would expect to find considerable difference in the temperature of
the northern and southern sections, with a corresponding difference in-
vegetation. But add to this range of latitude diversity of topography
with its marked influence on rainfall, temperature and atmospheric
humidity, and we have a complexity of climates and climatic influences
that are astounding — literally scores of climates sufficiently distinct to
influence profoundly the character of the vegetation.

Temperature, one of the most important factors governing plant
distribution, ranges from the perpetual snow fields of the mountains to
subtropical valleys where killing frosts are scarcely known. Bordering
the snows of the high Sierra such boreal plants as the dwarf, arctic
willow, cassiope, bryanthus, primulas and fringed gentians, flourish,
while in the subtropical sections, the lime, the olive and the pomegranate
are grown, and even the more sensitive though less poetic banana and
alligator pear. Everywhere the African pelargoniums, the "geranium"
cherished by the eastern housewife and tenderly nurtured within her
furnace-heated house, runs riot, growing into good-sized shrubs and fre-
quently used for porch coverings or hedges. The castor bean, described
in all botanical text-books as an annual, here becomes a tree living for
years, and grown for ornament and shade. Between these two extremes
boreal and subtropical, are all "the intermediate zones; the cool tem-
perate, where rye, red currants and apples flourish, and the warm tem-
perate with the almond, apricot and fig.

But great as is the range of temperature and its effect on vegetation,
rainfall and atmospheric humidity are fully as varied and play even a
more important role over a large part of the state in determining the
character of the vegetation. The normal annual rainfall in certain
localities of the northwest coast region runs nearly to one hundred
inches. At San Diego, also on the coast, it is only a little over nine
inches. On the deserts, lying east of the mountains which have robbed

24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the prevailing winds and storms of their moisture, the normal rainfall
is seldom over five inches and often less than two.

With such a complex of climatic conditions it would he futile to
attempt an account of the numerous plant associations or formations.
We shall rather try to present some of the general features of the most
important floral districts or belts.

The Coniferous Forests

California possesses the richest and most unique coniferous forests
in the world. Nowhere is there the wealth of species and genera, no-
where such giant trees or interesting and rare types. Within the state
there are thirteen genera and forty-eight species, twice the number
found in the territory covered by Britton and Brown's " Illustrated
Flora," an area over six times that of California. But it is not so
much the variety of kinds that makes these forests famous as it is the
grandeur of the individual trees, and the unique character or scarcity
of the species.

The Giant Sequoias or Big Trees are world-renowned for their im-
mense size and great age — the oldest and largest living beings. Here,
in their Sierran fastness, these giants stand majestic, vigorous and sound
to the heart- — trees that were centuries old when Christ was on earth.
In the words of their first warden, the venerable Galen Clark,

their majestic graceful beauty is unequalled. . . . The bright cinnamon color
of their immense fluted trunks, in strong contrast to the green foliage and
dark hues of the surrounding forest, make them all the more conspicuous and
impressive. In their sublime presence a man is filled with a sense of awe and
veneration as if treading on hallowed ground.

They are distributed along the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada at
middle elevations for a distance of about two hundred and fifty miles.
Toward the southern end of their range extensive forests are formed
and reproduce freely; but north of Kings Biver the groves are small
and isolated, comprising middle-aged or mature trees with few or no
seedlings. These isolated groves are thought to represent the original
patches which escaped the destructive onslaught of the ice age. The
average height of the large specimens is about two hundred and seventy-
five feet, although trees three hundred and twenty-five feet have been
measured. The diameter of the trunk averages about twenty feet, but a
few trees attain thirty, and the General Grant is said to be forty feet
at the much-enlarged base.

The Mariposa Grove and the smaller Tuolumne and Merced groves
are within the Yosemite National Park. In addition to these, two
other parks have been established by the Federal government for the
preservation of the giant sequoia, the General Grant National Park,
situated in the Kings Biver forest and the Sequoia National Park, in
the Kaweah Biver forest.

C3

d
U

•a
a

d
o

O

-a
a>

.d
C.

OS

So
o
+-»

o

.d
Oh

►J

W

M

0
o
o

Q
H

«

GJ
O
fa

H

K
Eh

ft
O

H

H

O

03
a

<

26 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Associated with the giant sequoias are to be found some of the best
specimens of other Sierran conifers. Of these the sugar pine is the
most magnificent. It is the king of pines. It attains a height of two
hundred to two hundred and twenty feet, with a bole eight to twelve
feet in diameter and often eight}' feet to the first limb. The huge
cones eighteen to twenty-six inches long hanging pendent from the tips
of the widely spreading branches are a striking feature that marks the
sugar pine as far as the eye can see.

In the redwood {Sequoia sempervirens) the giant sequoia (Sequoia
gigantea) has a strong rival for first honors. The redwood is the high-
est known tree, the giant sequoia the greatest in diameter. Compara-
tively they stand about three hundred and fifty to three hundred and
twenty-five feet in height, and twenty-two to thirty feet in diameter.
The redwood is more abundant than the giant sequoia, and in the Hum-
boldt forests it forms magnificent stands of timber from which over
one million feet of lumber have been cut from one acre.

The distribution of the redwood is an excellent illustration of the
delicate balance held between vegetation and climatic environment. It
forms a distinct belt along the coast ranges of central and northern
California, never extending inland more than twenty or thirty miles
and conforming with striking significance to the coastal fog belt. The
heavy summer fogs that frequent the coast ranges of central and north-
ern California lower the temperature and increase the atmospheric
humidity. Furthermore, the minute fog particles are collected on the
forest trees and precipitated to the ground. The writer has tramped
through fog in midsummer chilled to the marrow, with the trail muddy
and slippery wherever it passed beneath a tree. Indeed, so great was
the precipitation of the fog by trees that little rivulets formed and ran
several yards down the mountain trail. Fifteen minutes' walk away the
hot August sun was shining on a road inches thick in dust. Here were
climatic differences as great as those of England and Spain.

Associated with the redwoods, but of more extended range are a
number of other trees of special interest. The tanbark oak (Pasania
densi flora) is the only representative in North America of that large
Asiatic genus. Its acorns resemble those of an oak, but the staminate
flowers are in dense erect catkins as in the chestnut, and with the same
disagreeable odor. The California laurel, the only member of the genus
Umbelhilaria, is a beautiful evergreen tree with smooth dark green
lance-shaped leaves that emit the odor of bay. The madrone (Arbutus
menziesii), with its smooth polished trunks of a rich mahogany color,
is one of the most striking trees in the California forests. It has at-
tractive foliage of large, smooth, glossy, oval leaves, and bears open clus-
ters of deep red berries that persist until Christmas.

In addition to the sreat forests of the Sierra Nevada and the red-

THE FLORAL FEATURES OF CALIFORNIA 27

wood forests of the northern coast region, there are, usually in remote
isolated spots, a number of other conifers especially interesting on
account of their extreme rarity. All these species, which are far
more local and rare than the giant sequoia, are situated in the coastal
region. They are supposed to represent an ancient flora that existed
here when the coast ranges formed an archipelago some distance off
the western shore of the continent.

The Torrey pine is the rarest pine in the world. It is found only
in two small groves of scattered trees, one a few miles north of San
Diego, and the other on the eastern end of Santa Eosa Island. San
Diego has wisely acquired the mainland grove and established a park
in order that these trees might lie preserved.

The Santa Lucia fir inhabits the Santa Lucia Mountains, an isolated
range lying along the coast between Monterey and San Luis Obispo.
This fir is found nowhere else, and is distinct from all other firs in its
sharp-pointed leaves and bristly cones. It is within the Santa Lucia
National Forest and is therefore assured protection.

Both the Monterey cypress and the Monterey pine are found on
the Monterey Peninsnla. The pine forms a forest over a large part of
the peninsula and extends down the coast for fifteen to twenty miles.
There is also a grove on the coast of San Luis Obispo County and
another a few miles north of Santa Cruz. The cypress is confined to
two small groves situated on the two promontories that mark the bound-
ary of Carmel Bay, just south of Monterey. Here, perched on the high
cliffs overhanging the Pacific and buffeted by winds and storms into
picturesque, often grotesque attitude, they add a Japanese touch to the
charms of this coast, famed as the most beautiful spot on the Pacific.
We are constrained to say that both of these groves are under private
control. Cypress Point, the more accessible of the two, is in the hands
of a self-styled "Improvement Company," and as we write word comes
that it is to be surveyed into lots and thrown on the market. May
public-spirited citizens do their utmost to acquire and preserve this
unique grove ! Surely it will be to our everlasting shame if California
permits the destiny of these, the^ rarest of all trees, to depend upon the
whims of summer cottagers.

i&v

Foothills axd Valleys

Much of the peculiar charm of California lies in her rolling foot-
hills and broad fertile valleys, purple-rimmed by mountains. Here are
great stretches of the beautiful valley oak, with its massive spreading
crown sometimes nearly one hundred feet across. To quote Dr. Sar-
gent, the best known authority on American trees:

No other region in the world presents anything to compare with its park-like
beauty, the nobility of the individual trees, or the charm of the long vistas
stretching beneath them.

28 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

It is in the valleys and foothills that the typical California flora is
seen in its full glory. Here poppies and buttercups, creameups, tidy
tips, yellow pansies, sun cups, yellow forget-me-nots, berries and bush
mustard throw a gorgeous mozaic of mingled yellows over the coast
meadows. In the open foothills, fields covered with splendid splashes of
the wonderful gold of the poppy and the deep blue of the lupine, broken
in spots by the gray green of the oak, spread out like a huge impression-
istic canvas. On gentle slopes of sandy loam, escobita, cousin of the
gaudy Indian paint brush, stretches out into a velvety carpet of old
rose.

Typical also of the California flowers are the many varieties of
bulbous plants curiously adapted to the California climate by their deep-
seated bulbs that lie dormant through the long dry season, sending up
their foliage leaves in early spring and their flower-stalks at the end of
the rainy season. In the open fields and country roadsides the mari-
posa tulips, coming after the showy spring annuals, display large open
cup-shaped flowers, delicately painted as a butterfly's wing. Brodiaeas,
some with open, others with close clusters of blue hyacinth-like flowers,
greet one everywhere. Mission bells, mysteriously invisible, stand soli-
tary tall and erect in the open woods, delighting their discoverer with
drooping bell-shaped flowers mottled with bronze and green. Fairy
lanterns, exquisite little plants of graceful form and delicate coloring,
grow half concealed among the grasses of the open woods and rock
ledges.

The advent of the white man has greatly changed the aspect of the
vegetation in the valleys and foothills. Not only have vast fields of
showy annuals, chaparral and noble oaks given way to orchards, vine-
yards and grain fields, but many of the open, unfilled foothills are now
covered with wild oat, bur-clover or filaree, southern Europeans, brought
over by the Spanish padres and spread broadcast by nomadic bands of
sheep, which at the same time wiped out forever many a delicate native
annual.

The Chaparral

On dry gravelly hillsides, especially on southern exposures, and in
the valleys where the soil is light and the water-table below the reach
of roots, drought-resisting shrubs abound, forming dense, impenetrable
thickets known as chaparral. These shrubs are evergreens with short,
stiff, often spinescent branches and small, thick, leathery leaves of a
dull gray or olive green. The level mass takes on a somber monotonous
tone. But in blossom time, manzanitas with their tiny urn-shaped
flowers of a delicate pink, lilacs forming masses of bine, lavender or
white, garrya, with its long, pendant, soft gray catkins that have won
it the name of "silk-tassel tree," the ever-present chamise, a peculiar
rosaceous shrub with the foliage of the heath and spiraea-like clusters

THE FLORAL FEATURES OF CALIFORNIA

29

of small white flowers, the chaparral pea, mountain mahogany, hush
poppy and verba santa, all lend a charm that compensates for the long
periods of gray monotony.

The preponderance of shrubs is a striking characteristic of Cali-
fornia. One familiar with the shrubs of the eastern states will discover
many surprises among the California varieties. To be sure, he will
find many familiar genera, such as roses, currants and snowberries, but
many strangers as well, such as the shrubby poppies, phloxes, mallows,
monkey-flower, and even senecio. His solitary bear berry, uva-ursi, is
here represented by about twenty species and Xew Jersey tea by over

The Matilija Poppy in Early June, photographed by the writer.

thirty, many of which are very attractive in bloom and appropriately
named California lilac.

In southern California the wild buckwheat, the laurel-leaved sumac
and the black and white sage are prominent along the lower edge of the
chaparral. The buckwheat and sages are bee plants par excellence, and
produce tons of clear white honey. The Spanish-ba}^onet, a member of
the yucca family, is widely distributed through the chaparral. Most of
the year it is merely a tuft of dagger-like leaves, but in May and June
each tuft sends up a straight flower-stalk eight to twelve feet high, bear-
ing a huge pillar-like mass of creamy white flowers that may be seen
for several miles. On canyon floors one will occasionally meet the
matilija poppy. This is California's most gorgeous flower. It grows
in round clumps eight co ten feet high, bearing a profusion of delicate

3o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

crepe-like flowers, five to eight inches across, pure white in color with
a rounded mass of yellow stamens in the center.

The Deserts

To transcontinental travelers the deserts are bleak, forbidding wastes,
the very antithesis of life, and are passed with a shudder. But to him
who follows their shifting trails with burro and pack saddle they open
up a new world ; animals, plants and the very rocks wholly unlike those
of his well-trodden paths through fields and meadows. He may travel
for days over the desert without meeting a familiar plant, no conifers,
no oak, nor rose, no buttercups or violets. Plants, instead of spreading
out broad green leaves to the friendly sunshine, protect themselves from
the withering rays of a burning sun by easting off their leaves and
forcing their twigs and branches to earn- on their work, or by reducing
the leaves in size and covering them either with wax. as does the
creosote-bush, or with a dense layer of impervious cuticle, as does the
desert holly, or with a gray mat of soft down, as do some of the daleas.
Others, as the cacti, store up water in their thickened fleshy stems.
Still others, members of the gourd family, develop enormous roots for
water storage. Pondering on the significance of all these strange types,
the wonderful adaptations, the development and modification of struc-
tures to meet these severe tests of endurance, one stands amazed at the
powers of nature, realizing as never before the vital force of climatic
environment.

Low, straggly shrubs of subdued tone and thorny cacti are the com-
mon plants of the desert. Of these the most universal is the creosote-
bush with its waxy leaves, bright yellow flowers and all-pervading odor.
Along living streams grow willows and cottonwoods, but desert trees
are few in number. Where a little moisture is permanently retained,
mesquit, palo verde and ironwood may be found. In the Mojave
Desert the most striking feature is the yucca, which forms weird, fan-
tastic groves scattered orchard-like over many square miles, the Joshua
tree of the early Mormon settlers. On the western rim of the Colorado
Desert, fringing the base of the southern California mountains, are sev-
eral groves of the desert palm. An especially fine group is in Palm
Canon, splendid trees with straight, unbranched trunks eighty to one
hundred feet high, crowned by great tufts of spreading fan-shaped
leaves and clothed sometimes nearly to the base with withered leaves
that lie pendant along the sides in great thatch-like masses. Here is
a veritable Saharan oasis, and there eight miles away and ten thousand
feet above, stands the summit of San Jacinto, harboring typical arctic
plants around its lingering patches of snow.

Such are the contrasts of California.

A HISTORY OF FIJI 3*

A HISTORY OF FIJI, II

By ALFRED GOLDSBOROUGII MAYER

THE CARNEGIE INSTITUTION OF WASHINGTON

T*T"PON the death of old Tanoa, his son Thakombau (evil to Mbau)
V-J became Yunivahi. He was an ambitions, energetic, crafty and.
intelligent man, but the problems of government were becoming yearly
more complex in Fiji.

Missionaries had entered the group in 1835, and although Tanoa
did not permit them to live in Mbau or to attempt to make converts of
his subjects, other chiefs welcomed them, for they brought valuable
presents and increased the importance of those among whom they lived.
Gradually other white men had come to Fiji. At first mere degen-
erates or deserters from vessels who lived as did the natives themselves,
but afterwards men of more ambition and intelligence gathered to the
shores of these distant islands, and assumed a leading part in affairs.
The missionary influence was beginning to be felt, for converts were
being made among the lower orders of the population, and the power
of the native priests, and with it that of the chiefs was weakening.

Vainly did Thakombau rail against the advance of civilization, for
the hated power of the Mbau chief, founded as it was upon terrorism,
was doomed. One after another defeats came to the war parties of
Thakombau, and so reduced was he at last that, the missionaries being
the sole power left to whom he could appeal for aid, he was forced in
1854 to profess Christianity, and cannibal feasts were known no more
at Mbau. It was a great triumph for the missionaries, the result of
nineteen years of unremitting toil amid constant dangers and surround-
ings unspeakable in horror.

That Thakombau's conversion was forced upon him as a matter of
expediency is evident, for in a speech he called upon the gods of Fiji,
saying that he still respected them as of old, but that the time had come
when he must add the white man's god to those of his ancestors.

In the days of his power lie had owned a fleet of more than a hun-
dred war canoes, manned by a thousand warriors. 15,000 subjects
acknowledged him as king, and in addition half of Fiji paid him tribute
or admitted his supremacy, and he had boasted that the cannibal ovens
of Mbau never grew cold. He had more than fifty wives, and he him-
self knew not how many children, and when but a child he had wan-
tonly murdered one of his playmates; yet lie had but to declare himself
a Christian and hundreds of his subjects followed the chief's example

2,2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

as Fijian custom demanded. Indeed, even to-day whenever a high chief
stumbles and falls all in his neighborhood must tumble like checkers
in a row, and, if he takes medicine, his subjects clamor for some of the
same sort.

We must not assume thai all or even that most of the Fijians were
hypocrites in thus following their chief. For years the zealous spirit
of the missionaries had been at work among them and they had gained
the hearts of many of the poor and downtrodden, especially of the
women, upon whom the tyranny of savage days fell with a heavy hand.
It was the high chief and the warrior classes who had most to lose
through the levelling democracy of Christianity which denied their
divine right to rule through tabu, abolished their polygamy, discour-
aged war, prohibited cannibalism and in every way lessened their author-
ity and rendered ridiculous the proud traditions of their caste. While
the high chief remained unconverted, the missionary's lot was happy in
that he well could be the kind and simple friend of the distressed and
the brotherly adviser of the troubled, but with the conversion his tem-
poral power became paramount, for it was impossible for him to escape
the difficult double role of leader in secular as well as religious affairs,
and thus the simple-minded lover of mankind was suddenly exalted into
the position of the vicar of the terrible god of the white man whose favor
was hard to win and whose punishments were eternal.

It is but fair to the missionaries to recognize that their temporal
] tower was at the outset forced upon them, and that the mistakes which
they have at times fallen into are those which overshadow the spiritual
function of the clergy in all states wherein the government has fallen
under the domination of the priesthood.

It was indeed fortunate for Fiji that the missionaries had been
obliged to labor for nineteen long and almost hopeless years, and to en-
deavor in every way to understand and endear themselves to the people
before any of the important chiefs had yielded to their teaching.

Everywhere in the Pacific where missionary success was quickly and
easily attained, results more or less disastrous to the natives had fol-
lowed. Despite many notable and glorious exceptions such as Chalmers
of Papua, the old type of missionary was too often predisposed to re-
gard all customs not his own as " heathen," hence pernicious. Thus if
his success was immediate, as in Hawaii, his well-meant zeal impelled
him too quickly to overthrow old customs and at once to force upon his
converts a semblance of the habits of his own stratum of European
society.

In this connection it should, however, be said that the blame for
most of the bigotry, which has been all too evident, especially in former
times, should fall but lightly if at all upon the field worker who, living
among the natives, comes to love them as his friends and at least deals with

A HISTORY OF FIJI 33

them as individuals; but the fault lies chiefly with the home boards,
who, not realizing the paramount importance of local conditions in
treating with primitive peoples, have attempted to enforce almost the
same set of regulations from Greenland's icy mountains to Africa's
coral strand.

The missionary, whether he would or no, is forbidden to conduct
marriages between heathen and Christians, and too often one party to
the contract must enter upon it with a lie upon his or her lips. The
hypocrisy and espionage which results from sharing with the informer,
or the chief, the fines derived from those who smoke, or swear, or work
upon a Sunday, may well be imagined, and moreover, altogether too
large a share of the earned wealth of the natives is demanded from
them, the revenues of the church in certain groups being decidedly
larger than the taxes collected by the civil government.

Yet let us not blind ourselves to an appreciation of the fundamental
good the missions have accomplished, for whether Christianity be true
or false, the natives must live under the rule of a people actuated by
its motives and its faith, and are thus through its acquisition ines-
timably better fitted to resist the evil that preys upon them with the
advent of "civilization."

In Fiji, however, the natives had become thoroughly known to the
missionaries before the great conversion of 1854, and many old customs
were thus permitted to remain which would have been suppressed had
the missionary, and the political party which inevitably springs up
around him, came more quickly into power.

The power of the missionary, after the great chiefs cast in their
lot with him, is indeed terrible for good or evil, and in Tonga and later
in Fiji he connived at the arming of the natives in order to conquer
"converts." As the struggling priest of a great religion the mission-
ary inspires all respect, but as the crafty politician or bigoted inquisitor
his actions become correspondingly reprehensible. Too often in those
early days of missionary endeavor he seemed satisfied with a mere
semblance of order and religion for this was the period in which faith
rather than good works was deemed essential. To the natives he too
often remained one of a foreign race — a wizard, terrible, mysterious
and implacable. Happily, a change has come over the thought of the
world, and the conditions we describe are not those of to-day.

Henceforth Thakombau was to remain nominally king in Fiji, but
the real power was vested in the white men who had settled upon his
shores. He had escaped the retribution of native revenge only to
struggle hopelessly in the net of commercialism and diplomacy. It was
a sad and disappointing period between the time of the conversion in
1854 and the annexation to Great Britain in 1874. Soon after Thakom-

vol. lxxxvii. — 3.

34 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

bau "lotued"3 in 1854, a powerful faction in Mbau rebelled and fled
to Eewa where they arrayed themselves under the banner of the great
chief Eatu Quara or Tui Dreketi (the Hungry Woman or the Long
Fellow), a famous warrior and an implacable enemy of Thakombau
who threatened to destroy Mbau and to kill and eat its king in revenge
for the burning of Eewa in 1847. At one time only a single Tongan
and a missionary guarded Thakombau in his house at Mbau, but, at
this critical juncture, an American ship under Captain Dunn arrived
and, aided by the missionaries, Thakombau and his party were enabled
to purchase guns and ammunition. Eewa might still have conquered,
however, had it not been that Eatu Quara died of dysentery in Jan-
uary, 1855.

Indeed, as the Eeverend Mr. Waterhouse states, the people of Mbau
grew to hate Christianity after Thakombau had professed it to be his
religion. The Fijians had a highly developed system of constitutional
government, which varied somewhat with the locality, but was nowhere
an absolute despotism. In fact the influence of unprincipled white
men and the introduction of firearms led to conquests which had done
more to exalt the power of a few chiefs and to develop the worst ex-
crescences of the social and religious system of Fiji than had any
other factor.

At Mbau there were two high chiefs, the head priest of Eoko Tui
(the reverenced king) who was above all in rank and was held in re-
ligious veneration but took no part in war or political affairs; and the
Vunivalu (root of war), the executive head of the tribe. Upon the
death of the Vunivalu, his successor was elected from among his rela-
tives by the land-owners and chiefs of the tribe, and should he fail to
carry out their policy they refused to provide him with food.

After white men came and the lust for conquest overpowered all
else at Mbau, their ancestral veneration for the Eoko Tui declined,
and the Vunivalu became correspondingly more powerful. Thus
Thakombau was not the Mikado but the Tycoon of his people.

But to return to the historic narrative: King George Tubou of
Tonga, the most powerful Christian convert in the Pacific, came to the
aid of Thakombau in 1855, and for the moment reestablished his su-
premacy, but at the same time he acquired a knowledge of Thakombau's
weakness, and became convinced that a Tongan conquest of Fiji was
possible.

For generations the Tongans had been in the habit of sailing to
Lakemba, Kambara, and other islands of the Lau group in Fiji, where
the forests afforded large trees for the making of canoes. A year or
more would be employed in canoe building, and thus the newcomers had

3 Assumed the waist-cloth which the missionaries obliged all converts to
wear.

A HISTORY OF FIJI 35

learned Fijian customs and acquired an interest in the political affairs
of the islands. Finally they began to overrun and conquer the Fijians
and were the cause of much disorder and distress.

In about 1848 a powerful rebellion headed by Maafu the cousin
of the Christian king broke out in Tonga, but was suppressed by George
Tubou. Maafu, its leader, was exiled to Fiji and it was intimated
to him that if he desired a kingdom it was his to conquer.

Of the highest Tongan birth, young, ambitious, of superb physique,
energetic and in every sense a leader among men of action, Maafu came
to Fiji and at once became the ruler of all Tongans in the group.

His policy was to assist the weaker Fijian chiefs at war with stronger
enemies, and then the combined Tongan and Fijian army having been
victorious, he would turn upon his erstwhile allies and overpower them.
Thus he gained a foothold at Vanua Mbalavu and from this as a base
he proceeded to conquer the Fijis. As Seeman says in his account of
his Government Mission to Fiji:

Where Maafu and his hords had been it was as if a host of locusts had
descended.

Famine and poverty stalked in his wake, yet wherever he went there was
a Tongan " teacher " by his side ; and, as Seeman says,

the Wesleyan missionaries were kept quiet by Maafu making it the first condi-
tion in arranging articles of peace that the conquered should renounce heathen-
ism and become Christians.

There is a strange silence in missionary accounts respecting Maafu,
for not once does his name appear in Calvert's "Missionary Labors
among the Cannibals" published in 1870, yet he added hundreds of
"converts" to their flocks, and the Tongans and missionaries remained
upon the best of terms; and only after the treacherous and brutal tor-
ture and massacre of prisoners at Natakala4 and Naduri were the
missionaries forced by outraged public opinion to wash their hands of
Maafu and join weakly in the protest against Tongan cruelty. It
seems almost incomprehensible that this sad and revolting abuse of
power should have been exhibited by the missionaries in the part they
took in conniving at native warfare in Tonga Tahiti, and Fiji in order
that their reports to the home mission might "glow with the glorious
story of conversions."

By 1858 there were but two great chiefs left in Fiji, Maafu and
Thakombau, and the two powers were face to face. Doubtless the mis-
sionaries would have had their own way more readily with Maafu, for
when they had suggested to Thakombau the abolition of the old sys-
tem and the establishment of a "constitutional monarchy," he had

4 See William T. Pritchard, 1866; Polynesian reminiscences, pp. 225-234.
London.

36 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

answered "I was born a chief and a chief I will die." Nevertheless
he was finally forced into yielding to the demands of the white men.
Thus Maaf u " the Christian " would doubtless have conquered Mbau and
become king of all Fiji had not Thakombau in 1858 signed a deed of
cession granting his possessions to Great Britain. The British consul,
William Pritchard, Esq., and a warship came to his aid, and Maafu
was checked; and although the negotiations with England came to
nought, the increasing immigration of Europeans to Fiji made native
warfare more and more infrequent. Maafu had to content himself
with only a partial realization of his ambition and in 1882 he died a
disappointed man. Had he commenced his operations five years sooner,
he would have become the conquerer of Fiji. It was the hand of Great
Britain, not that of the missionaries, that had checked his blood stained
career.

The affair which caused Thakombau most serious trouble appears
to have been one of those extortions which have been so frequently
perpetrated by a " civilized " upon a simple people. On July 4, 1849,
the residence of a whiter trader named Williams, then serving as United
States consul in Fiji, was burned and the natives stole some of the fur-
niture and stores while the house was in flames. Thakombau does not
appear to have been personally responsible for the firing of the house,
but the natives of Mbau in which the incident occurred were subject to
him, and Williams demanded from Thakombau about $3,000 as in-
demnity. Upon the king's refusing to pay, the consul's demands were
gradually increased and other claimants appeared, so that finally, having
secured the cooperation of the United States government, the sum of
$45,000 was demanded. Utterly unable to meet this "indemnity,"
harassed at home, and threatened from abroad, it seemed to simple
Thakombau an intervention of Providenece when certain money-lenders
from Australia offered to pay the claim of the United States in con-
sideration of the deeding to them of 200,000 acres of the best land
in Fiji. It may well be imagined that only for a brief moment was
his kingly head allowed to rest in peace. Poor Thakombau, and with
him all Fiji, had indeed fallen "into the hands of the Jews," and it
was a happy moment when, on October 10, 1874, he signed a document
which read, " We, King of Fiji, together with other high chiefs of Fiji,
hereby give our country, Fiji, unreservedy to her Britannic Majesty,
Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. And we trust and repose fully
in her that she will rule Fiji justly and affectionately, that we may
continue to live in peace and prosperity." Never was the confidence of
a poor and degraded people better requited by a rich and civilized one,
for a strong, and generous hand had come to rule in Fiji and the light
of a happier day dawned upon the oppressed. Sir Arthur Gordon
(afterwards Lord Stanmore) was the first British governor. He had

A HISTORY OF FIJI 37

witnessed the cruelties of the disastrous native war in New Zealand,
and knew full well how difficult it is to graft a European civilization
upon a Polynesian stock. Fortunately there were high-principled men
to whom he could turn for advice, and he did well in seeking the coun-
cils of Mr. John Thurston, long a resident in Fiji.

The annual poll tax of £1 per man and 4s. per woman which
Thakombau's government had imposed was working ruin and death in
Fiji. It was impossible for the natives to earn so large a sum, but the
white planters eagerly paid the taxes and then "indentured" the
wretched creatures, who were forced to work upon the plantations of
their white masters at a wage so low that they toiled for 280 days in
the year simply to repay the tax which the planter had paid to the
government. Thus were the Fijians being entrapped into a bitter and
unnatural bondage more merciless than the orgies of the worst period
of cannibal days.

But Sir Arthur Gordon and Mr. Thurston soon tore loose the
shackles of the slaves, despite the angry protests and threats of the
whites in Fiji. Their plan was that each district be obliged to main-
tain a garden of copra, cotton, candle-nuts, tobacco, coffee or other
produce, or to supplement this by the manufacture of mats or other
articles of trade, and at the end of each year the products were
to be sold under government supervision to the highest bidder and
any money received over and above that of the district tax was to be
returned to the district itself and divided among the taxpayers. This
simple plan, which closely accords with their ancient manner of rais-
ing tribute, has encouraged industry among the natives, shielded them
from the avarice of traders, secured to them their lands, and each year
produced a sum considerably in excess of the taxes.5

Excellent as this plan was, it remained deficient in one important
respect, for the government made no effort to establish manual-training
schools wherein old crafts might be improved and new ones developed.
Education in Fiji has been confined to religion and the "three K's,"
and inspiring as it is to witness the son of a cannibal extracting cube
roots and solving quadratic equations, one inclines to the opinion that
the prodigy's future life would be better assured of a career of useful
service to the world and of happiness to himself had he been taught to
be a good carpenter, mason, farmer or decorator. It is certainly un-
fortunate that, having ingeniously created a market for the products
of Fijian labor, the English failed to improve the earning capacity
of the natives, thus losing an unique opportunity to stimulate an in-
terest in the useful arts that might soon have obliterated the apathy
of the downcast race.

5 Becently some of the districts have been permitted, subject to consent of
the Governor, to pay their tax in money.

3 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Mr. Thurston, the originator of the new system of taxation, had
come to Fiji as a common sailor before the mast, but he lived to be
Governor of Fiji from 1888 to 1896, and died as Sir John Thurston,
universally beloved by the race for whose uplifting he had contended
so courageously and well, and thus in Fiji there live to-day the hap-
piest, the most law-abiding and potentially the most nearly civilized
natives in the Pacific. It is one of the very few instances wherein a
powerful and enlightened race have studied and toiled through many
unrequited years to lift to a happier level a poor and barbarous people.

There is no longer in Fiji that painful contrast of which Wilkes
complained between the beauty of the island scenery and the character
of the inhabitants, for consistently in all respects the archipelago is now
one of the fairest spots within the tropic world.

Nowhere in the Pacific did old customs change more slowly under
European rule than in Fiji, for it has been the consistent policy of the
British government to leave unaltered all that was good in the manners
of old days.

The villages are almost as they were before the white man came,
only the log stockades and the encircling moats have disappeared during
the long years of peace, and the houses are no longer perched upon the
summits of aerie cliffs, but now cluster along the river-banks or under
the cocoa palms of the seashore. The high-peaked Mbures or temples,
once such a picturesque feature, have fallen into decay with the advent
of Christianity, although one thinks they might well have been pre-
served, enlarged and converted into Christian churches, for the taste-
ful sennit patterns which adorned their beams and rafters would have
made the chapel the most attractive house in the village instead of
being, as it too often is, a cheerless barn-like structure, ill-proportioned
without and barren within.

The better types of native houses are set upon artificial embank-
ments of stones and earth, sometimes twenty feet high, as in the valley
of the Rewa River, where floods may be expected. The framework is of
tree fern or cocoanut logs, ingeniously lashed together, and the sides
and roof are covered with a thick thatch of wild cane, or cocoanut
leaves spread over ferns. The roof is quite thin at the peak, but is
fully a foot and a half thick at the eaves, where it projects slightly,
and is cut off squarely, presenting a very neat appearance. The ground-
plan of the house is usually rectangular, not oval at its ends, as in
Tahiti, and the peaked roof has a long ridge-pole which projects several
feet beyond the eaves and, if the residence be that of a chief, is thickly
studded with white Cyprcea cowrie shells, and sometimes other cowrie
shells are strung upon ropes of cocoanut fiber sennit and hung pendant
from the projecting ridge-pole. There are no windows, but several
openings serve as doors and may in time of rain be closed with mats.

A HISTORY OF FIJI 39

The floor is covered with several layers of pendamu mats, and a raised
dais at one end of the single room serves as a bed and may be screened
by mosquito-proof curtains of masi (tapa). A rectangular earth-cov-
ered depression serves for the fireplace and the smoke escapes as best
it may, the smoldering embers imparting always a pleasant aroma to
the air.

In speaking of everything Fijian, we must remember that the
peoples of the Ea, or western islands of the Archipelago, and of the
mountains, are of purer Papuan stock and are more primitive than
those of the Vititonga race of the Lau group and the eastern coasts of
the large island. Accordingly, the houses differ in different places,
being smaller, more crudely and flimsily made among the Papuan than
among the Vititonga tribes. Also in the western parts of the large
islands and in the Ea islands, the chiefs are not so highly respected as
among tribes whose blood has been mingled with the aristocratic Poly-
nesian. At Mbau, the Eoko Tui was almost god-like in native estima-
tion, whereas in the mountains of Vita Levu the chief was only the
leading councilor of the tribe, and labored in the fields in common with
his subjects. Indeed the Mbau chiefs looked down upon those of the
western part of Viti Levu, calling them Kai-si (peasants).

If the house were that of a high chief, as at Mbau or Eewa, the
roof-beams were wrapped with interlacing strands of cocoanut fiber
sennit, displaying a pattern in rich browns, black and yellow, so pleas-
ingly contrasted that one is forced to regret that work of such high
artistic merit should be suffered to remain in a house as inflammable
as a haystack. Yet these houses withstand a hurricane far better than
do the hideous corrugated-iron-roofed structures of Europeans.

Several old wooden basins, yaqona bowls, are hung upon the wall,
their naturally dark wood coated with pearly blue where many a brew-
ing of the drink has stained them. Carved war-clubs and long elab-
orately decorated spears may be seen suspended from the beams, and
as the eye becomes accustomed to the dim light one beholds such treas-
ures as a sperm whale's tooth strung as were old-fashioned powder
horns upon a rope of cocoanut fiber and polished through repeated rub-
bings with cocoanut oil until its surface is as brown as tinted meer-
schaum. A few fly-brushes, pandamus fans for awakening the fire, a
huge ceremonial war-fan of palm-leaf, some wooden food bowls, and
crude cooking pots of fire-baked clay, and a clock that never goes, com-
plete the list of the furniture. Yet one thing of painful memory one
would fain have overlooked — the universal pillow. This consists of a
block of wood or stick of bamboo supported upon legs so that it stands
horizontally four or five inches above the floor. In old days when the
hair was most elaborately dressed and trained into a huge mop, this
pillow was doubtless a necessity, but in this shaven and shorn period of

40 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Chrisianity such an instrument of torture might well be dispensed with,
although by the native it is still regarded as the acme of luxury.

Housekeeping is simple in happy Fiji, where all is charmingly clean,
and thick layers of soft mats invite repose upon the floor. Indeed the
natives sleep much by day, for at night there is apt to be a "meke,"
wherein the maidens of the village, adorned in garlands of flowers and
well polished with cocoanut oil, sing far into the small hours, keeping
time to their chants by graceful gestures. This, together with the dull
beating of the wooden drum, drives all hope of sleep away, but it is to
be preferred to the "silent" nights when rats and mice scamper cease-
lessly over the floor, contesting their supremacy with an occasional cen-
tipede or land crab. Yes, one must live a life of leisure and sleep by
day in Fiji.

The largest edifice in the village is called the "stranger's house"''
for it is here that guests are entertained and fed by the community
under orders from the chief. At Mbau the old stranger's house has
stood for generations, dating far back into cannibal times, and within
its walls the first Christian service was held in 1854. It is about 125
feet long and 40 feet wide, being exceeded in length only by the
stranger's house at Eewa.

Carpenters are a highly respected caste in Fiji, and canoe and house
building are occupations fit to engage the activities of chiefs. When
one desires a house, a whale's tooth or other suitable gift should be
presented to the chief, who then engages the carpenters, who in turn
may command the services of more than two hundred assistants, all of
whom labor so efficiently that in from one to three weeks the house is
erected and ready for company. In the South Seas things are done
in communal fashion and village labors, such as house building, canoe
making, and the gathering of crops are occasions for songs and dances
and all manner of merriment and feasting.

There is much of interest in Mbau, for although the ovens have long
ago grown cold, yet the great foundation stones of the old temple of
the war god (Na Vatani Tawake) still remain in the center of the
village, and in 1898 one could still see the sacred tree upon whose
boughs were hung the genital organs of victims who had been sacrificed
to the Fijian Mars.

Close by the side of the foundation of the old temple a sharp-edged
column of basalt is set upright within the ground. This is the stone to
which victims were dragged by their arms and upon which their heads
were dashed. Fragments of human teeth might still be found by dig-
ging at the base of this stone, and in many a house in Mbau there were
sail needles made from leg-bones of the victims. There was another
execution stone which was axe-shaped and thrust upright into the
ground near the foot of the hill ; but this now serves as the baptismal
font, and is set within the church. The ovens in which victims were

A HISTORY OF FIJI 41

cooked upon the hillside lay near this stone, as were also the great hol-
low log-drums, the " publishers of war " whose rolling beat the cannibal
call in old days, and one of which now serves to summon worshippers
to church.

An interesting trophy of old days was the anchor of the French
brig Aimable Josephine which now lies close to the side of the founda-
tion of the temple. This vessel was treacherously cut off at Mbau on
the night of July 19, 1834, her captain and most of the crew being
murdered. Native wars were waged over the possession of this trophy,
the final resting place of which is Mbau.

The corner posts of the house of old Tanoa were still to be seen,
and when natives pass these in the night they pluck green leaves and
cast them upon the earth, for beneath the ground by the side of each
post and embracing it with his arms there stands the skeleton of a
victim who was buried alive.

The abutment of the sea wall of Mbau with its made-land, and docks
built of large flat stones, is a remarkable example of native engineering,
being surpassed only by the canal of the Eewans near Nakelo. Huge
canoes, some of them with bows studded with white Cyprcea shells, lie
stranded here and there. The native houses are scattered over the
made-land and along the gentle slope at the base of the hill, leaving the
summit barren as of old, although here overlooking the city stands the
residence of the Methodist missionary, and the graves of Tanoa and
of Thakombau, the latter of whom died in 1883.

But exceeding all in interest was Eatu Epele Nailatikau, high chief
of Fiji, son and successor of king Thakombau. Unreconciled to the
presence of the white man, his memories harked far back to old days
and beams covered with woven sennit, and in its treasures of old days,
when his family were great and all-powerful in Fiji. Yet, though
shorn of power, no king could have been treated with more respect by
those around him than was he.

His house in Mbau was a small one, in no way differing from those
of the lesser chiefs, excepting in the richness of its Taviuni tapa screens,
and beams covered with woven sennit, and in its treasures of old days ;
the most notable of which was a well-oiled elephant's tusk beautifully
browned and polished, which had lain upon the floor since the days of
old Tanoa, who once prized it as the largest piece of "coin" in the
world. Only the highest chiefs were permitted to enter his house, and
even these dropped their titles and crouched silently against the wall
awaiting his invitation ere they spoke.

In his every expression and gesture there was a stately consciousness
of his high-born ancestry.

Although over sixty years of age, his finely muscular body still stood
erect, with its dark bronze skin softened and smoothed through many
a cocoanut-oil massage. Upon ceremonial occasions he blackened his

A HISTORY OF FIJI 43

face and covered his hair with lime. The little finger of his right
hand had been severed at the first joint as an indication of mourning
upon the death of his grandfather Tanoa.

He was every inch a king seated in his chair with the noblest of
his race crouching silently around him. Whenever he smoked a cigar
he condescendingly nodded to some high chief who crawled humbly toward
him on hands and knees, delighted at the honor of " finishing the butt."

When he dined, a clean new mat was unrolled upon the floor, and
then men and women came crawling in on hands and knees, bearing
food for the god-like one, who sat tailor-fashion upon the floor. No
commoner ate in the presence of the king, and least of all would the
women of his household have presumed to such familiarity. The menu
of one dinner at which the author was a guest consisted in an excellent
fish chowder served in cocoanut bowls, and yams placed upon four-legged
wooden platters, all scrupulously clean and cooked to tempt the palate
of the most fastidious epicure. Our plates were banana leaves, and
fingers served in lieu of knives and forks. Cups, etc., used by the
king are tabu and must not be used by others. The courtiers remained
silent while the meal was in progress, only softly clapping hands when
the king addressed any of their number. After dinner a bowl of water
was placed before the king and the natives again clapped respectfully
while he washed his hands.

Even before the advent of the white man, cooking was a high art in
Fiji. In fact, these natives had little to learn from us in this direc-
tion. Their pottery enabled them to boil or steam their food, and in
addition they made use of the oven. This, consists in a stone-lined pit
within which a wood fire is made. Then, when the stones have become
red hot the embers are raked away and the food; pigs, fish, vegetables,
etc., are placed within the oven, having previously been wrapped in
Tahitian chestnut or bread-fruit leaves, or in the case of man in the
leaves of Solatium anthropophagorum, a plant allied to the potato.
The food is then covered thickly with juicy green leaves which in turn
are blanketed with earth. After a few hours all within the oven be-
comes so thoroughly baked that the ribs of pigs may be torn off and the
flesh eaten as in America we do corn upon the cob.

Canoes laden with tribute (lala), for Eatu Epele were constantly
arriving at Mbau. These offerings varied with the tribe, for each was
charged to bring certain things. Thus one canoe might be laden with
great bundles of yams, another with husked cocoanuts tied into bunches,
or with yaqona root, turtles, masi, mats, etc. The greatest care was
taken in the preparation of the tribute, and, in fact, the natives in-
variably gave the best they had.

Those who brought tribute carried it humbly to the door of the
king's house and crouched close to the wall outside, softly and plead-

44 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ingly clapping with their hands. Hearing the plaintive sound two
chiefs of the king's household, who had hitherto been sitting motionless
as statues within the room, moved to one and the other side of the door.
The head of a pig, a large bunch of cocoanuts, or a turtle would then
be timidly thrust part way within the opening, and a tremulous voice
outside would beg that his majesty, their great and gracious lord, would
condescend to accept as tribute so mean and unworthy an offering as
their poverty forced them to present, trusting that in his greatness he
would continue to protect and show them favor. When the voice ceased,
the two chiefs at the door would critically inspect the proffered speci-
men of tribute, calling attention to its faults as well as to its qualities,
and if its acceptance was recommended, all the chiefs who had been
crouching sphinx-like against the wall within the house would show
signs of life and majestically clapping their hands murmur " A ! woi !
woi ! woi!! A tabua levu!" (a wonderfully large whale's tooth!).
Upon which the king himself usually spoke a few words and the tribute
was formally accepted. So abundant was this tribute that great heaps
of taro, yams, cocoanuts or turtles were nearly always to be seen upon
the village green of Mbau.

In the old days, wars were waged over the slightest inattention
to this matter of tribute. The island of Maliki was charged to provide
turtles for Tanoa, but one day they presumed themselves to eat one of
the turtles they had caught ; hearing of which Tanoa sent a fleet of war
canoes, and every man and woman on Maliki was killed, the children
being captured in order that the boys of Mbau might club them to death
and thus earn their titles of Koroi (killers of men).

The old king spoke not a word of English, but he was fond of rem-
iniscence. He remembered the Peacock of the Wilkes expedition,
being then a boy of about 8 years. He also spoke admiringly of Pro-
fessor Moseley, of the Challenger, and seemed saddened when told that
he was dead.

The freedom with which he volunteered to discourse upon events of
cannibal times was surprising. He said that one day when he was a
little boy he had entered the house of Tanoa during the dinner hour,
and his grandfather, who always loved him, had given him the tongue
of the Mbakola6 (man-to-be-eaten) and its taste was vinaka (good).
After this he " often dined with his grandfather," who " had a new man
nearly every day." Wilkes states that the Fijians esteemed women
more highly than men, but Eatu Epele declared that the best of meat
were old, lean men "whose flesh was red and whose fat was yellow,"
and whose taste was "like pork with bananas." Women, he declared,

6 Long pig, ' ' Vuaka-mbalavu, ' ' applied to designate cooked man, is not
grammatical Fijian, but is derived from a joke of the inveterate old cannibal
Tanoa.

A HISTORY OF FIJI 45

were " covered with a layer of fat " and white men he had been told were
salty or flavored strongly with tobacco. In old days in Fiji, the highest
praise one could bestow upon a dish was to liken it to a cooked man.
When in Fiji, I several times overheard the remark "were it not for
the English I would eat you," and in quarrelling the commonest slur
is to call an antagonist (Mbakola) a man to be eaten. Our abhorrence
of cannibalism, which is after all a sentimental matter in so far as the
mere eating is concerned, was not shared by the old Fijians of expe-
rience, for "men are good; indeed the best of all meat," and as Eatu
Epele once said "he never met a man without thinking how he would
taste."

Some Fijian names for food are curious; thus bula-na-kau signifies
beef, for when Captain Eagleston brought the two original cattle to
Fiji he told the natives that the animals were a " bull and a cow."

Eatu Epele delighted to play at draughts with a tawny-haired
albino chief whose light skin was profusely bespeckled with brown
blotches and whose eyes were dull blue. This chief's function seemed
to be solely that of a messenger and draught player, and invariably the
games were won by the king, for no matter how great an advantage the
albino might win, he " committed suicide " at the last by placing all his
pieces at the mercy of his lord and master.

Eatu Epele, the most interesting chief in the Pacific, died in 1901,
and with him there passed away the last champion of the old in Fiji.
Born of the highest rank and to a life of war and action, fate had
robbed him of his birthright and left him but dreams and memories.
Like the lingering spark of a fire that can never burn again, this spirit
of old cannibal days faded into oblivion. His son, the Honorable Eatu
Kadavu Levu, who succeeded him as Eoko Tui Tailevu, has been care-
fully educated under British auspices, and is a member of the Legis-
lative council.

The cleanliness of Fijian houses is remarkable, indeed in heathen
times they were far more careful in this respect than at present, for
the least offal of any description, even a hair, might be used by an
enemy to bewitch its originator.- Even to-day the fear of witchcraft,
ISTdrau-ni-kau, is very real in Fiji. In order to bring ill-fortune to
your enemy, you have but to discover something which he has cast off
and burn it wrapped in the proper leaves, reciting certain spells. Or
you may bury a cocoanut beneath his hearth, or slowly melt the wax
from his image thus causing your victims lingering decline and death.
The missionaries have made every effort to destroy this belief, but un-
fortunately they do not seek to replace it by a more wholesome under-
standing of the nature of filth-diseases, and thus as faith in witch-
craft declines certain bodilv ills increase.

In common with other south-sea islanders, the Fijians were a cere-

46 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

monious people and every important affair of life was ordered in ac-
cordance with a rigid etiquette which unhappily in many instances is
falling into neglect before the levelling influence of the white man's law.

Thus in the old days, the yaqona (kava of Samoa) was drunk by
chiefs alone, and then only upon ceremonial occasions, but now all may
partake of it and the excess thus engendered is one of the minor causes
of the decline of the population. Wilkes, and also Williams, in his
work on Fiji and the Fijians, describes the ceremony at Somo somo
where it was most elaborate. Early in the morning the herald stood
in front of the chief's house and shouted yaqona ei ava, and all within
hearing responded in a shriek Mama (prepare it). Then the chiefs
and priests gathered within the king's house, while all others remained
at home until the king had drunk his yaqona. Pieces of the root of
the Macropiper methysticum were distributed among the young men,
who must previously have rinsed their mouths and whose teeth must
be perfect. The chewed root having been deposited in the form of rela-
tively dry pellets in the bottom of the bowl, the herald announces to
the king " Sir with respect the yaqona is collected." The king replies
"Loba" (wring it). The bowl is then placed before the chief, who
skilfully encloses the chewed fragments of root within fibers of hibiscus
or cocoanut husks and finally wrings the fluid through this sieve, thus
removing from the bowl all pieces of chewed root, and leaving within it
a milky-yellow brew. While the straining is progressing, the priest
chants a prayer in which the company finally joins. The first cocoanut
cup is always handed to the king, who pours out a few drops as a liba-
tion to the gods and then drinks while the assembled company sing,
Ma-nai-di-na. La-ba-si-ye : a ta-mai ye : ai-na-ce-a-toka : Wo-ya ! yi !
yi ! yi !, finishing with a clapping of hands and a wild shout which is
passed from house to house to the uttermost limits of the village. After
the king, the company is served in the order of rank until all have par-
taken. In old times, it is said that yaqona was grated in Fiji, but that
the Tongans introduced the method of chewing. Having tried it, I
must confess that the chewed root is less unpleasant in flavor than the
grated, but at best it resembles a combination of quinine and camphor
and is certainly an acquired taste. When drunk to excess, it tem-
porarily paralyzes the arms and legs, at the same time exciting the
brain. Thus violent quarrels are apt to occur at yaqona bouts, but the
combatants are unable to injure each other. When the chief falls into
a stupor the wives of the other participants carry their protesting hus-
bands home. A dull headache upon awaking is the penalty for this
over-indulgence, but the evil effects are slight in comparison with those
resulting from alcoholic excesses.

The British government has, however, prevented alcoholism among
the natives; for each Fijian who desires to imbibe must annually ob-

A HISTORY OF FIJI 4 7

tain a license which he is obliged to exhibit whenever he purchases a
drink at any public bar, and if arrested for drunkenness his license is
confiscated, not to be renewed, and moreover the bartender is heavily
fined if he be detected in selling drinks to natives who possess no license.

The Fijians of to-day are more orderly and sober than, and quite
as contented as are any peoples of European ancestry, and illiteracy is
rarer in Fiji than in Massachusetts. You were safer even fifteen years
ago in any part of Fiji, although your host knew how you tasted, than
you could be in the streets of any civilized city. It is clear that in dis-
position the Fijians are not unlike ourselves, and only in their time-
honored customs were they barbarous. Indeed the lowest human beings
are not in the far-off wilds of Africa, Australia or New Guinea, but
among the degenerates of our own great cities. Nor are there any char-
acteristics of the savage, be he ever so low, which are not retained in an
appreciable degree by the most cultured among us.

Yet in one important respect the savage of to-day appears to differ
from civilized man. Civilized races are progressive and their systems
of thought and life are changing, but the savage prefers to remain fixed
in the culture of a long past age, which, conserved by the inertia of cus-
tom and sanctified by religion, holds him helpless in its inexorable grasp.
Imagination rules the world, and the world to the savage is dominated
by a nightmare of tradition.

It is not that there are no individuals of progressive tendencies
among primitive tribes, but the careers of their Luthers and Galileos
are apt to be short and to end in tragedy. Indeed, only three hundred
years ago our own leaders of progress struggled at the risk of their
lives against the prejudices of their contemporaries. Even with us
every effort of progress engenders a counteracting force in the com-
munity which tends to check its growth and to preserve the present
status, accepting the acknowledged evil of to-day to preserve the even
tenor of our way, for fear of the new is akin to the superstitious
dread of the unknown. Whether the race be savage or civilized de-
pends chiefly upon the nature of the customs that are handed down as
patterns upon which to mold life. and thought. The more ancient the
triumph of the conservatives the more primitive the culture which is
conserved, and the more likely is it to be crude and barbarous. A
wonderful instance of fixity of custom is afforded by the race which in
the ice-age lived in the caverns in the valleys of the Dordogne and the
Vezere in central France. Their skull measurements indicate that cer-
tain of these cave-dwellers were Esquimo and their implements and
works of art are the same as those of the Esquimo of the Arctic regions
of to-day, who have thus remained unchanged throughout unknown
thousands of years, unaffected by their great journey northward fol-
lowing the edge of the retreating ice.

48 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Among all races religion is the most potent power to maintain
tradition, and for the savage religion enters into every act and thought.
To him as to the ancient Greeks everything is a personification of some
spirit — everything is somebody. The waterfall is such, for can you
not hear the laughter of the nymph, the clouds are spirits for they
come and go as only gods may do, and every beast and bird and plant
and stone is but the embodiment of a ghost or tribal hero.

Yet it is probable that no savage has ever been more under the do-
minion of a world of omens and portents than was Louis XI, and even
to-day the breaking of a mirror, or the number thirteen, or a stumble
while crossing a threshold, remains of significance to many of us. All
matters of sentiment and credulity are closely wrapped up in this en-
tanglement of superstition ; it is hard to divorce ourselves from the idea
that moving machines have life and disposition. We must perforce
associate sublimity and grandeur with the inert rock-mass of the Alps,
and the great trees under which we played as children are sentient
beings to our imagination, and our hearts ache as for the loss of life-long
friends when we find them fallen to the woodman's axe. A cold heart-
less world it indeed would be were we not illogical and therefore
" savage " in our sentiments and loves.

Upon analysis we find that lack of sympathy for the savage and ig-
norance of his tradition blinds our judgment and causes us to regard
as ridiculous in him things which we consider to be quite natural in
ourselves. The cleverness of the Yankee who sold wooden nutmegs is
quite amusing, but the Japanese who counterfeits an American trade-
mark is criminal.

There is within us Europeans an inbred contempt for all that is
alien, and this trait, being the dominant characteristic of Christian
peoples, has enabled us through aggressive intolerance to impress our
customs upon all other races without ourselves being influenced by the
cultures we have overawed into a semblance of our own.

In strange and possibly ominous contrast with ourselves, the Jap-
anese have for ages been keen to discover the good things of alien cul-
tures and quick to accept them as their own, while we must remain all
but unmoved by the example of their ennobling patriotism and mastery
of self, the happy simplicity of their family life, their respect for
worthy ancestors, their modesty, and their inbred grace of deportment ;
and as for their exquisite art we chiefly relegate it to our museums,
and their fine chivalric code, the bushido, remains all but untranslated
into our language, much less has it entered into our thought.

The savage may know nothing of our classics, and little of that which
we call science, yet go with him into the deep woods and his knowledge
of the uses of every plant and tree and rock around him and his ac-
quaintance with the habits of the animals are a subject for constant won-

A HISTORY OF FIJI 49

der to his civilized companion. In other words, his knowledge differs
from ours in kind rather than in breadth or depth. His children are
carefully and laboriously trained in the arts of war and the chase, and
above all in the complex ceremonial of the manners of the tribe, and
few among us can excel in memory the priests of old Samoa, who could
sing of the ancestors of Malietoa, missing never a name among the
hundreds back to the far-off God Savea whence this kingly race came
down.

One may display as much intelligence in tracking a kangaroo
through the Australian bush as in solving a problem in algebra, and
among ourselves it is often a matter of surprise to discover that men
laboring in our factories are often as gifted as are the leaders of abstract
thought within our universities. In fact the more we know of any class
or race of men the deeper our sympathy, the less our antagonism, and
the higher our respect for their endeavors. When we say we " can not
understand " the Japanese we signify that we have not taken the trouble
to study their tradition.

It is a common belief that the savage is more cruel than we, and
indeed we commonly think of him as enraged and of ourselves in pas-
sive mood. Child-like he surely is, and his cruelties when incensed are
as inexcusable as the destruction of Louvain or the firing of Sepoys
from the guns, but are they more shocking than the lynching or burning
of negroes at the stake, events so common in America that even the sen-
sational newspapers regard them as subjects of minor interest. .

Clearly, despite our mighty institutions of freedom, efficient systems
of public education and the devotion of thousands of our leaders to
ideals of highest culture, there remain savages among us. Mere cen-
turies of civilization combat the aeons of the brute. Within each and
every one of us, suppressed perhaps but always seeking to stalk forth,
there lurk the dark lusts of the animal, the haunting spirit of our gorilla
ancestry. The foundations of our whole temple of culture are sunken
deep in the mire of barbarism. It is this fundamental fact which de-
ceives us into the impression that a few decades of contact with men
of our own race will suffice to civilize the savage. True they soon learn
to simulate the manners and customs of their masters, but the imitation
is a hollow counterfeit, no more indicative of enlightenment than is the
good behavior of caged convicts a guaranty of high mindedness. To
achieve civilization a race must conquer itself, each individual must
master the savage within him. Cultured man has never yet civilized a
primitive race. Under our domination the savage dies,, or becomes a
parasite or peon.

VOL. LXXXMI.— 4.

5o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

TKADE UNIONISM VERSUS WELFARE WORK

FOR WOMEN

Bx ANNIE MARION MACLEAN, Ph.D

CHICAGO

PERHAPS the most popular phase of philanthropic endeavor at the
present time is that which deals with the improvement of indus-
trial conditions for women. That their lot is unduly hard is evidenced
by the facts of the case. Women have always worked and are therefore
no innovation in industrial life ; yet the spectacle of their toiling in ever-
increasing thousands in this country has stirred alike alarmists and
reformers, and they have given publicity to hardships always endured
by the workers, but hitherto undreamed of by the more favored members
of society. Eight millions of women are now engaged in gainful occu-
pations and the great majority of them are under twenty-four years
of age.

The youthfulness of so large a number of women makes its own
appeal for sympathy, even though it is not powerful to bring about
more equitable arrangements in industry. Society, it would seem, is
usually lavish with sympathy, but niggardly with justice. But of late
we have become obsessed with the idea of meting out justice to the un-
born. The inevitable outcome of this, of course, must be fair treatment
to the potential mothers. In so far as it results in sane activity in their
behalf well and good. Four millions of the eight classed as women in
gainful occupations are industrial wage earners, a group sufficiently
large to leave its impress on the health and morals of the future.

It can not be denied that modern methods of industry tend to push
oppressively hard upon unskilled young women, who have neither
ability nor training to enable them to engage in interesting tasks. They
are often forced into the most monotonous kinds of labor, where they are
poorly paid and obliged to work at nerve-destroying speed. A dawn-
ing interest in public health has focused attention upon the physical
effects of such toil, and it has also, coupled with certain moral condi-
tions, led to the important investigations into industrial conditions for
women that have been carried on during the past few years. People
who, a decade or two ago, neither knew nor cared how or where their
clothes or food were made, or by whom, now exhibit a lively interest in
these matters. It is an awakening of social conscience that omens well
for the worker. But even an awakened community works slowly in the
matter of reforms. It takes a long time to enact and enforce desirable
legislation. In the interim something must be done. Much in fact has

TRADE UNIONISM 51

been done by organizations large and small, but out of all this endeavor
two types of undertakings stand out conspicuously as coming close to
the heart of labor and trying to correct abuses. They are trade union-
ism and employer's welfare work. A consideration of these two agencies,
in so far as they affect wage-earning women, forms the subject-matter
of this discussion. The two agencies represent distinct, even antagonistic
methods, and in fact are usually mutually exclusive.

For about half a centur}', the trade organizations have been striving,
by fair means and foul, to get a voice in the conduct of the businesses in
which they work, for the purpose of improving their own condition.
The end for which they have striven is laudable. They have been call-
ing for sanitary workshops and living wages; for shorter hours and
more certainty of employment ; and all the time emphasizing their right
to be heard. This movement is especially deserving of notice because it
is a movement by the wage workers, for the wage workers — those who
are admitted to need help striving to help themselves. This, in theory
at least, is the most hopeful of all undertakings, and it is the spirit
that should be fostered. The working people have set up for themselves
a definite standard of living, which they desire to reach, when they
organize together in their trades.

Whatever may be said about methods sometimes employed by the
trade organizations, it must be admitted that their theory of industrial
betterment is rational. They stand for the uplift of labor, and theirs
is a herculean task. They are attempting to push themselves up against
forces apparently conspiring to keep them down. This opposition has
lent a strength and militant vigor to their purpose. They hold up to
themselves the definite ideal of self-improvement, and the tenacity
with which they cling to this ideal shows the faith they have in it. A
more comfortable working class is their hope. They pursue their pur-
pose oftentimes with set teeth and clenched fists, and their zeal is an
inspiration in itself. They have a goal, and with steadfast purpose they
are striving to reach it.

Industrial betterment of this kind tends to produce a virile body of
citizens, and the test of any ameliorative work must, in the last analy-
sis, be the effectiveness of the citizens it develops. This method of im-
proving conditions is only beginning to seize the imagination of women ;
its possibilities are only beginning to be realized, and by representative
bodies of women fully as much as by wage earners themselves. The
great majority have been slow to avail themselves of the benefits arising
from organization. Many of the workers feel that their stay in the
industrial world is temporary, and they are either indifferent to the
conditions under which they must work for a time, or they are un-
willing to subject themselves to what they frequently regard as the
tyranny of leaders, preferring rather to endure low wages and bad

52 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

sanitation if need be till marriage sets them free. This and other
reasons which have kept women wage earners from adopting union ideals
in the past are still operative it is true, but the more intelligent are
beginning to see the benefits of organization, and are uniting with others
of their trade for mutual betterment. Union men have not always
been friendly toward unions for women, chiefly for the reason that they
feared the acceptance of women into their ranks might militate against
increased wage scales. Their attitude has changed, however, and this
has had its share in stimulating an interest in organization among
even young women workers.

Many persons interested in social hetterment are now growing
sanguine over the possible future of women's unions, owing to certain
successes achieved by them in the garment and other trades in recent
years. Hitherto the union has flourished most in time of stress. There
is inspiration in a fight, and, moreover, a fight is sometimes necessary
to overcome injustice. But these working women need, too, the minis-
try of peace, and when the unions shall have passed through their mili-
tant stage, the women workers will doubtless be the gainers. Union
women are now standing shoulder to shoulder in their effort to obtain
higher wages, shorter hours and healthful conditions of work. If they
have these, they say they can provide themselves with opportunities for
education, and recreation, and other desirable things in life. They are
fighting for a chance to work, and a chance to live.

The other form of industrial betterment under discussion is that
carried on by more or less philanthropic employers, and through the
National Civic Federation called "welfare work." Such work is as
varied as the employer's appreciation of needs, or ingenuity in suggest-
ing remedies for existing difficulties. With one it may take the form
of shower baths, and a system of profit-sharing; with another hot noon-
day lunches and dancing classes; while still another may discharge
what he considers his duty by providing club rooms for men, and
aprons for women. But whatever the method pursued, vastly better
physical conditions have resulted. Welfare work has given us model
factories, and beautiful surroundings must ever be an incentive to right
living.

Several hundred employers in the United States are carrying on
some form of betterment work for their employees, while ten or a dozen
stand out prominently for their unusual, even notable, undertakings.
In general, welfare work may be said to include : ( 1 ) improved physical
conditions; (2) opportunity for rest and recreation; (3) educational
work; (4) benefit funds.

Now each of these things is good in itself, and employees, while as
a rule willing to recognize the truth of this, yet are more or less sus-
picious of their employers' undertakings. They do not object to the

TRADE UNIONISM 53

good things, but to the methods of bestowing these good things. Many
thoughtful employers, having been beset by labor difficulties, have con-
cluded to make conditions of work pleasanter, in the hope of banishing
dissatisfaction. The plan has been successful in some cases. Sometimes
these employers are poor psychologists, inasmuch as they fail to under-
stand why blissful content does not follow on the heels of some gift.
The young women asked, perhaps, for higher wages, and were given
rest rooms and free lunches. Why, forsooth, should they not be happy ?
Chiefly for the reason that a sop never satisfied anybody. However,
many who have grown to distrust union methods are looking with
hopeful eyes to employers' betterment schemes as the final solution of
labor difficulties. Capital and labor working together for mutual bene-
fit is undoubtedly the ideal condition. But they must really work
together if the most desirable results are to be obtained.

Having before us the main features of trade unionism and welfare
work, let us now discuss these two agencies. As was stated before, the
final test of the value of an institution is the type of citizen it produces.
When we seek to improve an individual, we have in view not only the
present comfort of that individual, but his future usefulness to society.
We feed a hungry boy, not only to keep him quiet and make him fat,
but to make him a man. So in all ameliorative work we must keep ever
before us the final purpose of it all. The work in itself is of value only
in so far as it helps to make better men and women of those whom we
would help.

Our duty is toward society at large, and we can discharge it only by
helping to promote good citizenship. Now in order to be the best type
of individual one must have ever before him an ideal, and an instiution
which would elevate any class in society must present to that class a
definite ideal ; it must give it something for which it must strive, for I
am bound to believe that no individual or group will advance very far
without this inspiration. "Without a vision all the people perish."
Now if we accept this doctrine of social righteousness based on ideals,
let us see how far these two industrial betterment agencies under con-
sideration are in harmony with it.

The trade unions in all their bickerings, and turmoil, and failures,
and successes, have never lost sight of their goal of better working and
living conditions. The union holds up to its members the ideal of class
betterment. They are stimulated to further endeavor by this. We must
therefore concede to the trade unions a place in our scheme of industrial
regeneration. The principle for which the union stands is sound.

Let us now enquire into the social value of employer's undertakings.
Here we come to an entirely different situation. The employer is the
active force, the employee the passive agent at the outset, and if this
condition changes it is owing to the tact of the employer. Welfare work,

54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

then, comes to be a bestowing by him who has upon those who have not.

The wealthy employer is touched perhaps by the weary face of one
of his women workers, and he immediately opens a rest room; he sees
her drinking cold coffee from a can, and he makes plans for serving a
hot lunch ; he sees her look longingly at a few flowers beyond her Teach,
and he transforms his factory into a veritable garden ; he sees her stand-
ing at her work with weary limbs, and he straightway orders high-
backed stools. Any employer who allowed his heart to accompany him
on a trip through his factory or store would see a score of things he
could do for the comfort and happiness of his employees, and if he went
forth and did them would be himself a better citizen thereafter. But
what of the people whom he has helped ? What ideal has he given them ?
They are recipients of favors. They may have better health on account
of his gifts; they may even be happier. But there is something in the
average American working man or woman that resents even health and
happiness if mixed with patronage; and unless an employer has phe-
nomenal tact his efforts are likely to be regarded as paternalistic.
Working women as a rule accept favors more readily than men, with
the result that they are more prone to betray some of the characteristics
of spoiled children. On the employer's side there is always the tempta-
tion to turn to business profit the improved conditions his generosity has
made possible. His welfare work may thus become simply advertising,
and his employees may be exploited to their humiliation. The employer
undoubtedly is entitled to whatever commendation a humanitarian policy
may merit, but when that policy is adopted solely for the financial
benefits that may accrue from popular approval, it becomes questionable,
possibly meretricious, from the ethical standpoint, and certainly should
not be accorded a place in the field of ameliorative undertakings. Such
work belongs simply to the realm of advertising, and has nothing what-
ever to do with the broad ethical movement we are considering. Its con-
tribution to the solution of industrial difficulties is a negligible quantity.

The employer who installs shower baths, and then with a blare of
trumpets — possibly accompanied by moving pictures of employees per-
forming their free ablutions — calls his goodness to the attention of the
passer-by, belongs to the same class as a circus manager who exploits
the tricks of his animals, not because he poses as the savior of the animal
creation, but because he hopes it will induce money to flow into his
coffers. We must, then, make a clear line of demarcation between the
schemes of an enterprising publicity agent and genuine purposeful
betterment work. The value of welfare work must ever depend on the
employer who undertakes it. So far as employees are concerned, they
are actuated by no strong purpose. They have greater comforts without
the spiritual stimulus of working to get them. Such undertakings do
not present a definite ideal to strengthen and enrich character, to

TRADE UNIONISM 55

develop the best type of citizenship. The chief weaknesses, then, of this
system seem to me to be an inherent tendency toward paternalism, with
its consequent emasculating or embittering of labor; its lack of the
cooperative spirit; and its failure to hold up an ideal.

There are many things in life of more importance than window
boxes filled with trailing vines and bright blossoms; there are more
pressing needs for girls than fresh white aprons. And the would-be
philanthropic employer who does not recognize this is doing less than his
whole duty. While providing for the physical comfort of their em-
ployees, employers should recognize the fact that they assume certain
moral as well as economic responsibilities when they bring together large
numbers of workers. And it is this ethical side of welfare work that is
most significant ; it is the side that has the most direct bearing on good
citizenship. It is quite possible for a working woman to discharge her
full duty to society without having luxurious couches on which to lie
when she grows ill or weary from toil, but it is not possible for that
woman to fulfill her duty as a member of the social group unless she is
capable of exercising the power of choice, of standing firm as a moral
entity, of grasping and holding to a definite ideal of progress.

Now my contention is that the present tendency of welfare work is
not to strengthen labor's power of initiative, and is not to summon to
the fore that virile zeal which belongs to sturdy manhood and woman-
hood. When the employer has been the means of rousing his employees
to action, of encouraging them to evolve methods of betterment, and of
stimulating them to an appreciation of their opportunity to do things
for themselves, the situation is much more hopeful. Some few employers
in this country have been able to do this, but the general trend of the
work is in another direction. And employees, surfeited with comfort
for which they can give no return, are liable to become limp of will and
uncertain of purpose. Their power of initiative becomes dwarfed. They
are always open to the charge of ingratitude. The pampered children
of industrial Utopias may become unfit for the competitive system of
industry. There are remedies of course that could be suggested for all
these difficulties, but it is not my purpose here to show how to revolu-
tionize welfare work, but rather to point out its present tendency.

Now having before us the essence of the two betterment movements
for women known as trade unionism and welfare work, and some com-
ments thereon, it becomes pertinent to enquire which one merits the
greater degree of approval and support from people interested in indus-
trial and social amelioration, so far as young wage-earning women are
concerned. The question really resolves itself into a very simple one,
but nevertheless one that we may not be able to answer satisfactorily
for a generation or more, that is, which method tends to give us the
more efficient women, women who can function most capably in a
democracy ?

56 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

EURASIAN WATERWAYS IN TURKEY

By LEON DOMINIAN

THE AMERICAN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY

THE circumstance of contiguity by which the southeastern end of the
Balkan peninsula almost abuts against the extreme northwest-
ern shore of Asia Minor provides an Eurasian ford which has facilitated
human intercourse between Europe and Asia. The Dardanelles, the
Sea of Marmora and the Bosporus constitute in reality a single strait.
From Tertiary times to our day a normal and interdependent sequence
of events has occurred on its site. In the prehuman period it is possible
to trace land-fracturing followed by gorge-carving, valley submergence
and strait formation. The post-human development witnesses conver-
sion of the locality into an important section of one of the most widely
traveled highways of mankind. Two main routes intersect each other in
the dividing waters. Their courses leading from northwest to southeast
and from northeast to southwest are at right angles to each other. In
considering the value of the region as part of a much trodden route, it is
necessary to ascribe proper importance to its lines of communication
with Europe and Asia.

A Balkan zone of depression extending west and south of the Balkan
uplift affords natural access between the valley of the Danube proceeding
from the heart of Europe and the Dardanelles-Bosporus passage. It
is constituted by the wide valley of the Morava and the narrower Nichava
course leading to the Sofia basin, whence penetration into the Thracian
plains is obtained by the Maritza valley.

The corresponding function for the Asiatic shore is performed by the
valley of the Sakaria and to a lesser degree by the Pursak river depres-
sion— both trending westward from the high plateau of western Asia.

The main roads from the Bosporus or the Dardanelles to the Sakaria
river valley skirt the shores of the straits and the Marmora as they follow
a coastal lowland fringing the Dardanian and Bithynian heights. At
Panderma, however, the old highway strikes inland slightly south of east
to Brusa in order to avoid the elevated plateau intervening between the
Marmora and Lake Abullonia. Thence, still following a line of least
elevation, it wends its way towards the small harbor of Ghemlik (the
Cius of Grseco-Roman times) until beyond Isnik (ancient Nicasa of
ecclesiastical fame) it debouches into the waters of the Sakaria.

The geological evidence at the shores of the Dardanelles and the
Bosporus reveals the probable continuity of land at both points in a

EURASIAN WATERWAYS IN TURKEY 57

time not far remote. A narrow band of the Miocene beds of the Gal-
lipoli peninsula extends along the eastern coast of the Dardanelles. The
lower Devonian strata and igneous flows of the European side of the
Bosporus reappear on its Asiatic shores. In both straits the land-split-
ting fracture which gave rise to watery channels is an event of late geo-
logical times. Originally gorges of rivers flowing from northeast to
southwest, the straits assumed their present geographical form as a result
of depression. As one stands on the Sheitler hill midway between the
Black Sea and Marmora entrances of the Bosporus the correspondence of
promontory to bay and bay to promontory is discernible in the entire
range of vision swept by the eye to right or left. A similar relation
between opposite shores recurs in the Dardanelles with the only dif-
ference of size of landforms for, in the longer strait, the headlands are
bolder while the bays attain deeper and wider proportions.

The importance of the region as a fording place can be gathered
from the distribution of the larger cities within its boundaries. Setus,
Abydos and Madytus on the Hellespont grew on the site of the nearest
convergence of the European and Asiatic land-masses. The same is true
of Byzantium, with the added circumstance that the promontory on
which it was founded afforded an admirable strategic site. Ilium, at the
southwestern entrance of the waterways, also owed its importance during
antiquity to commanding position. Its disappearance as a center of
urban life was the result of geographical disadvantages. The ancient
city lacked a convenient harbor, above all. Land communication with
Asia Minor was arduous on account of the mountainous character of the
country extending beyond the city walls. Byzantium, however, at the
opposite extremity of the straits had been provided by nature with the
very facilities for intercourse which had been denied Troy. The eco-
nomic conditions which were responsible for the passing of the latter city
determined the survival and increasing importance of the Byzantine
capital.

The narrowness of the Eurasian waterways permitted continuity of
travel over this intercontinental route while the very existence of the
straits allowed uninterrupted maritime travel from Black Sea harbors to
the farthest known seaports of the western world. Modern railway com-
munications have been benefited by the former circumstance. The sea
commerce of medieval days thrived on the latter. In fact, the configu-
ration and location of the region has always affected humanity.

Assumption of the wandering of Alpine brachycephals from the
Hindu Kush to as far west as Brittany appears to be substantiated by the
distribution of the type. The connecting link between members of the
race in western Europe and their Asiatic prototypes is found in the
Armenoid group of Asia Minor.1 Probably the earliest fording of

i Ripley, "The Races of Europe," New York, Appletons, 1899, p. 448.

58 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Eurasian waterways was "undertaken by this race in the course of its
westerly spread.2

This specific case of migration may be considered as part of the
powerful "trans-humanizing" process moving in an east-west direction
which has taken place on the Eurasian continent. Interdependence be-
tween this movement and the conformable trend of the main lines of
Eurasian structure as well as correlated climatic zones still remains to be
determined. Ultimately the entire problem may be found to be con-
nected to mechanical effects of our planet's rotation.

Since the dawn of historical times the Propontine area and its outlets
have borne the vessels of adventurous traders and colonists. Early ex-
tension of Hellenic influence to the easternmost shore of the Black Sea
was rendered possible by the advantages offered by this water route to
Greek pioneers. The foundation of Byzantium in 657 B.C. promoted
the intercourse between the east and west which at that time was largely
restricted to relations between the iEgean and Black Seas. A half-way
station was established on the unique site of the modern capital of the
Sultans. Here a system of powerful defenses reinforced by the en-
circling waters of the Golder Horn, Bosporus and Marmora provided
long lease of existence to the city which both Europeans and Asiatics
regarded as the gateway to rival continents.

Between the iEgean mouth of the Hellespont and the Euxine out-
let of the Bosporus, Asiatic invaders of the western world and European
colonizers of the east have always found the shortest watery stretch of
their respective routes. This was an important point at a time when
control of natural forces was in a still undeveloped stage. The danger
of impairing the cohesive strength of an army of invaders was also
minimized.

These considerations probably led Darius to adopt the Bosporus route
in the expedition sent against the Scythians in 513 B.C. His cohorts
tramped from Asia into Europe over a bridge of boats thrown across
the Bosporus in that year.3 From that time on various incursions of
Asiatics into the western continent were to cross the water of these
straits.

During the second Persian war the bridging of the Hellespont by
Xerxes' generals is commonly reported as having been undertaken be-
tween Abydos and Madytus. Both of these sites lie north of the nar-
rowest section of the Dardanelles, — the Kilidbahr-Chanak gap, barely a
mile in width. They correspond approximately to Nagara Point and
the paltry hamlet of Maitos, between which the distance of the straits
attains three miles. The current at the wider section is not as swift.

2 Cf. map of Asiatic Migrations in The Wanderings of Peoples, by A. C.
Haddon, Cambridge, 1912.

3 Herod., B. IV., 86-89.

EURASIAN WATERWAYS IN TURKEY 59

There the double row of pontoons built by Xerxes's engineers in 480
B.C. could be moored with less danger of their drifting with the south-
erly flowing waters. It is not improbable that the bridge thrown across
the Hellespont on this occasion was started near the conveniently sit-
uated mouth of the Ehodius Eiver and extended to a point about two
and a half miles south of Madytus.

Half a century later the Hellespont was crossed by a counter human
current which was destined to flow to the shores of the Indian Ocean.
Macedonian supremacy over Greek states at that time depended largely
on the conquest of Asia where ready help against the kingdom be-
queathed by Philip to Alexander was always to be found by the states
of Thessaly and the Peloponnesus. The bulk of the Macedonian
phalanxes were transported from Europe to Asia between Sestus and
Abydos in 334 B.C. It is likely that minor contingents crossed between
Elacontus and the Achean's cove with Alexander who was proceeding
to Ilium.

The main fording points selected on this occasion lie north of the
previous passage. The distance between Sestus and Abydos is also
approximately one mile. The advantage of the site, however, is due
to the moderation of the current which flows between these points with
about half the swiftness characterizing its onward rush through the con-
tracted outlet on the south.

When the convergence of all roads to Rome had become well estab-
lished in the first century after Christ, the Bosporus was the shortest
watery section of a long highway which began at the Appian way and
extending through Ancyra, Tarsus and Antioch, attained Egypt and
Mesopotamia by way of branches diverging at the last-named city.

The easterly spread of the Eoman Empire, however, caused the
Bosporus to replace the Eoman Tiber as the hub of spoke-like roads
leading to the remotest confines of the Csesars' vast administrative do-
main. The evidence afforded by the Peutinger Table and the Antonine
Itinerary on this translation of center is conclusive. In the words of
Ramsay4 the map

was made in the Byzantine period, by a person who was accustomed to the
Byzantine system of roads radiating from Constantinople across Asia Minor,
and who tried to represent the roads on this idea. . . . But no road which leads
across country from the JEgean coast is represented with any approach to
completeness: the roads in this direction are given in fragments with frequent
gaps.

The same remark applies to the Antonine Itinerary: the compiler is inter-
ested chiefly in the roads to Constantinople. . . .'

In the early centuries of the Christian era the advantageous location
of the waterways favored the development of trade intercourse between
Europe and Asia. From the European coast roads led to the great

* "The Historical Geography of Asia Minor," p. 48.

6o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

commercial cities of lower Austria which at that time, and especially
from the sixth to the twelfth century, were the depots and distributing
centers of Oriental merchandise. Thither traders from the northern-
most and westernmost sections of Europe came to supply themselves
with the spices and rareties of the Orient. The Avars, who had settled
in the valley of the Danube and who traveled back and forth in the
wide valley of their choice, were the principal commissioners between
Constantinople and the storing centers of Lower Austria.

At the apogee of Byzantine might the region occupied an eminently
central location in the civilized world. In the sixth and seventh cen-
turies from north to south and between east and west the Byzantine
Empire was in every sense the country of the core. A large proportion
of world commerce carried on between cardinal points of the compass
passed through Eurasian waterways. This trade route grew in im-
portance during succeeding centuries. It flourished especially through-
out the period in which Italian cities acquired commercial supremacy.

Between the eighth and ninth centuries the commerce of Europe
centered at Constantinople "more completely than it has ever since
done in any one city." A commercial aristocracy was created in By-
zantium as a result of this remarkable trade activity. The body of
wealthy merchants rapidly acquired political power, and it became nec-
essary for usurpers to obtain their support. Finlay, basing himself on
Theophanes, records the case of Empress Irene, who was obliged to
lower the toll levied at the straits of the Hellespont and the Bosporus
in order to find favor with the business men of the capital at the time
she was preventing her son from reigning.

In the course of the eisrht crusades between 1096 and 1270 the
straits of the Bosporus provided easy passage from Europe into Asia to
the soldiers of the cross marching against the infidel. Throughout the
two centuries of faith-inspired fighting the nations of the world met in
Constantinople. From the very start of the religious movement the
bands of crusaders followed the roads provided by nature to this city,
there to unite forces before proceeding through Asia Minor to Palestine.
The four leaders of the first crusade set the precedent by convening in
the Byzantine city. From Batisbon along the valleys of the Danube,
the Morava and Maritza, Godfrey of Bouillon led his host to the shores
of the Bosporous. Adhemar of Puy and Baymond of Toulouse, proceed-
ing from Burgundy through northern Italy, western Croatia and Bosnia,
also attained the classic strait after crossing Albania, Macedonia and
southern Thrace. The army of Bohemond and Tancred left Brindisi
and landed in the bay of Valona, whence it was directed across the
Balkan peninsula to the Byzantine capital. Bobert of Flanders and
Hugh of Vernandois marched through central Italy and, taking ship at
Bari, crossed to Durazzo, there to begin the overland journey, the first

EURASIAN WATERWAYS IN TURKEY 61

stage of which ended at Constantinople. Beyond the imperial city, in
Asia Minor, the four routes which had marked the progress of the first
crusade in Europe merged into a single trail over which the motley
crowd of friar, beggar and adventurer, gathered from every European
nation, steered its way towards Jerusalem.

From a.d. 1250 to 1425 Black Sea coast towns constituted western
termini of important caravan routes proceeding from the heart of Asia.
Tabriz, the great rendezvous of traders traveling from China, India or
Arabia, was connected to Trebizond by the valley of the Arax. The
seaports of Samsun, Poti and Tana also received the products of Asia
destined for western Europe. The bulk of this Black Sea commerce
was in the hands of Venetians and Genoese. Natives of the independent
cities of Italy had their agencies in every Euxine harbor of any conse-
quence. The Eurasian waterways had permitted the establishment of
Italian commercial colonies on the coast of the Black Sea. Families
claiming descent from Italian medieval settlers are found to-day in
many harbors of ancient or modern importance.

If abundance of nomenclature on ancient maps be considered as
expression of the commercial importance of a given region the names
on the Black Sea coast preserved on medieval maps suffice to reveal the
extent of trade relations between Italy and the Levant. The tonnage
of Italian traffic with the East was derived not only from the impor-
tant agencies like that of Galata founded by the Genoese within the
present limits of Constantinople, but from numerous smaller posts and
colonies scattered on the Black Sea coast.

The westerly spread of the Turks resulted in the gradual closing of
the eastern waterways to Christian traders. In particular the control
of the Dardanelles-Bosporus sea road by the Turks in the sixteenth
century destroyed the most convenient avenue of intercourse between the
prosperous Italian republics and their Black Sea colonies. From this
time on trade relations between north-central Mediterranean ports and
the iEgean and Black seas dwindled to insignificance on account of the
restriction imposed by the Turkish government and the vexations to
travelers caused by its officials. -

The destruction of this Levant trade, however, did not end the de-
mand of Europe for the products which the East had hitherto supplied.
Spices consisting principally of pepper, cinnamon, ginger, cloves and
nutmeg were still sought. The stocks of silk, gum, lacquer and certain
perfumes and precious stones were being gradually depleted. These
products now reached Europe intermittently and by way of southerly
routes through Asia Minor, Syria and Arabia. The journeys to which
traders had to submit were long and perilous. The result was that
spices sold in Italian ports three or four times higher than in Calicut.
Incense could only be obtained at six times its selling price in Mecca.

62 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Furthermore, the scarcity of gold and silver was beginning to be felt
acutely about that time in Europe. After paying its eastern purchases
with the precious metals for centuries the west had reached the stage
in which its supply of coins was failing.

These are some of the economic conditions which led to westerly
explorations in the course of which America was discovered.

The consolidation of Ottoman dominion in Europe after the fall of
Constantinople marked the highest development of the strategic value
of the waterways. This feature was considerably enhanced by the in-
troduction of artillery as an arm about that time. Prior to the estab-
lishment of the Turkish capital at Constantinople the strategic position
of the straits had proved valuable in two important directions. For
long it had acted as a natural moat defending European sections of the
Byzantine Empire from Turkish attacks. In still earlier times and
with the stronghold of Constantinople at its northern end the Eurasian
ford had acted as the barrier deflecting barbarian invasions through
Illyricum to Italy and the west. With armies and navies resting on
the triple circle of Byzantine ramparts the narrow waterway was con-
verted into a natural obstacle in the path of barbarian hordes which had
succeeded in crossing the Danube in the course of recession from the
northeast. Asia Minor, Syria and Egypt were thus spared the effects
of the passage of invaders coming from the north.

The existence of the straits has profoundly affected the destinies of
the Ottoman Empire. Turkey's disintegration marked by successive
southeasterly recession of its European boundary was retarded consid-
erably by the impregnable character of the defensive works constructed
on the winding shores of the Dardanelles. This narrow strait attains
a length of forty miles between the JEgean and the Marmora. A con-
tracted channel, marked sinuosity of course and a line of hills on each
shore commanding the intervening watery space provided all the ele-
ments which nature could bring together to form a fortress.

In modern times the waterway has played an important part in the
rivalry between western and eastern nations for its possession. In par-
ticular, whenever the pressure of Slavic might tended towards a final
effort to subjugate the Turk a convenient check could be promptly ad-
ministered • by an armed force sent through the straits to protect the
Sultan's capital.

The international status of the waterway has been affected by its
intercontinental location. As a section of an important world route
its fate concerned every nation whose subjects made use of this high-
way. The long-deferred expulsion of Mongolians and Tatars from
European soil can only be explained by the fact that the Turks de-
scended from these races were the convenient masters of this important
waterway. The occupation of this region by a power of the first mag-

EURASIAN WATERWAYS IN TURKEY 63

nitude could not be tolerated by the other large nations in view of the
menace constituted thereby to unimpeded transit of men and mer-
chandise.

Expression of the tense political situation resulting from the im-
portance of the site is given in the number of treaties forbidding the
transit of armed vessels through the straits. Conventions signed by
Turkey and European powers prior to the nineteenth century had closed
the straits of the Dardanelles as well as the Bosporus to men-of-war.
In the middle of the nineteenth century these agreements acquired
validity as declarations of a principle deserving permanent application.
An international conference, held in London, ratified on July 13, 1841,
all previous agreements by the signing of a convention in which the
Sultan bound himself to forbid access of the Dardanelles or Bosporus
to foreign war vessels. The European signatory powers to this agree-
ment were Great Britain, Bussia, France, Austria and Prussia.5 Since
then the value of mastery of this watery stretch of an intercontinental
route has acquired such proportion that the presence of storm-tossed
war-vessels seeking refuge from the fury of the elements sufficed to
raise vehement protests against their presence in the forbidden waters.6

To our own generation at a time when the economic importance of
a region is the prime consideration affecting its world relation the
gauging of the value of the Eurasian waterways must be determined by
their central location with reference to the continents of Europe, Asia
and Africa. Between Paris and Bagdad or Aden the overland route
is continuous save for a short mile of water at the Bosporus. Here a
bridge will undoubtedly connect the two continents in a day which can
not be delayed much further. Man's achievement will thus have
crowned nature's work once again. A minimum width of channel
breaking the continuity of land along the northwest-southeast inter-
continental road provided by nature is a requirement of modern condi-
tions no less than it was in former centuries. Present exigencies differ,
however, from the necessities of early days. Security had formerly
been sought in the well-nigh unbroken stretch of land affording access
from Europe to Asia, and vice versa. Eapidity of communication has
now become the desideratum of greatest import.

Thus the advantages inherent in the site of the Dardanelles to Bos-
porus Strait determined its relation to humanity settled far from its
limited area. A road is to a large degree the joint property of its users.
The political status of the Eurasian waterways hence affects the inter-

s P. Maeey, "Statut International des Detroits, " Lechevalier, Paris, 1912.

6 In October, 1849, a British fleet under the command of Admiral Parker
while at anchor in Besika Bay was driven by a violent storm to seek shelter at
Hauslar Bay in the Dardanelles. The incident elicited a protest from the
Eussian ambassador in Constantinople, notwithstanding the retirement of the
English men-of-war to Besika Bay after the storm had subsided.

64 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ests of the entire community of European nations. In this a determin-
ing factor is obtained which may lead to the eventual formation of an
independent political unit formed by the elongated zone of coastland
enclosing the Dardanelles, the Sea of Marmora and the Bosporus. The
boundary of this territory in the Balkans, if made to coincide with the
line determined for Turkey's western boundary at the Treaty of London
of May 30, 1913, would conform fairly accurately with natural divi-
sions. On the Asiatic side the valley of the Sakaria and a long fault
line revealed by the lakes east of the Marmora provides ready-made
frontiers which could be conveniently extended to the iEgean. This
line had constituted the Asiatic boundary of the Latin Empire of Con-
stantinople in the period intervening between the years 1204 and 1261.
To-day the establishment of an internationalized area or neutral zone
in this region would be an added instance of conformity to geographical
principles observable in many sections of the world.

PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION 65

SOME PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION AND OTHER

MOSQUITO WOEK

By Dr. L. O. HOWARD

BUREAU OF ENTOMOLOGY

IN planning, as early as 1903, a monograph of the mosquitoes of
North and Central America and the West Indies which should be
of service to zoologists and sanitarians,1 the writer included in his out-
line plan some consideration of the pioneer workers in this field, and
with considerable trouble secured the photographs which are reproduced
in this article. He well knew the interest which always attaches to the
personalities of men who do great work, and felt sure that the publica-
tion of these likenesses would add greatly to the interest of the mono-
graph. But when the monograph was completed and printing begun,
he discovered that the Carnegie Institution of Washington had laid
down a rule that the portraits of living men were not to be published
in any of the volumes issued by the institution. This was rather em-
barrassing, since it had been definitely stated to the foreign workers
that the jmotographs would be used in this way; but since this was
impossible, it seems desirable to have them appear in accessible form,
and it is with full confidence that the readers of The Popular Sciexce
Monthly will be glad to know what these men look like that these lines
are written. During the four or five years following Ross's discovery of
the carriage of malaria by certain species of Anopheles there was intense
activity in many parts of the world in mosquito investigations, and
it is the pioneer workers of this period who are here shown. The
only very prominent worker who is omitted is Robert Koch, whose pho-
tograph I was unable to secure. The only Americans included are the
original members of the Army Yellow Fever Commission, Dr. A. F. A.
King, of Washington, Dr. J. H. White, of the U. S. Public Health
Service, and Surgeon- General Gorgas, who during that period had ac-
complished his wonderful clean-up of Havana.

They are a fine, forceful set of men, as their faces show, and to this
group the world for all time will owe much. Nearly all of them are,
or were, known personally to the writer, and he can thus assure those
who read this article that the faces of the men themselves are like their
photographs.

1 This -work under the joint authorship of the writer, H. G. Dyar and
Frederick Knab, has been completed. Two volumes have been published, and
the final two will shortly appear, under the auspices of the Carnegie Institution
of Washington.

VOL. LXXXVII. 5.

66

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Sir Patrick Manson

Sir Patrick Manson, F.R.S., K.C.M.G., M.D., LL.D. ; late physician
and medical adviser to the Colonial Office; distinguished as a pioneer
investigator and teacher ; author of a standard work on Tropical Medi-
cine; the discoverer of the transmission of filariasis by mosquities;
the man who suggested to Ronald Ross his investigations of the trans-
mission of malaria by mosquitoes.

PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION

67

Sir Ronald Ross

Major Sir Ronald Eoss, K.C.B., M.R.C.S., D.P.H., Hon. F.E.C.S.,
LL.D., Sc.D., M.D., F.R.S., professor of tropical sanitation, University
of Liverpool and Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine ; physician for
tropical diseases, King's College Hospital; member of many sanitary
committees; commenced special study of malaria in 1892 and later
definitely traced the relations between malaria and mosquitoes; has
since made tropical hygiene his life study and has conducted investiga-
tions of the highest importance in many parts of the world. He re-
ceived the Nobel prize for his work in medicine in 1902.

68

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Professor George H. F. Xuttall

George H. F. Xuttall, F.B.S., M.A., M.D., Ph.D., Sc.D., Quick pro-
fessor of biology, Cambridge University, England; chief editor and
founder of the Journal of Hygiene and of Parasitology ; an eminent
bacteriologist and parasitologist, who early studied the biology of the
Anopheles mosquitoes of England, and who has written much of the
carriage of diseases by insects. Dr. jSTuttall is an American by birth and
was educated at Johns Hopkins University, and later in Germany, where
he lived for a number of years.

PIOXEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION

69

Dr. Arthur E. Shipley

Arthur E. Shipley, F.E.S., M.A., Sc.D., master Christ's College,
Cambridge University; reader of zoology; co-editor of Parasitology and
of the Journal of Economic Biology. A broad, general zoologist who
collaborated with Xuttall in some of his early studies on malarial mos-
quitoes of England, and who has written much on the subject.

7o

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Professor Frederick V. Theobald

Frederick V. Theobald, M.A., vice-principal of the Southeastern
College of Agriculture at Wye, Kent, England; professor of economic
entomology and zoology; author of the five- volume monograph of the
Culicidse of the world, issued by the British Museum of Natural His-
tory, the first two volumes of which were published, with a volume of
plates, in 1901, and afforded a convenient method for the determination
of species to the early workers in the transmission of disease by insects.

PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION

7i

Professor G. B. Grassi

Professor Dr. G. B. Grassi, professor of comparative anatomy and
entomology in the University of Pome, and director of the institute of
comparative anatomy; a very famous man of many-sided accomplish-
ments, who, with Celli, studied the relations of malaria and the
Anopheles mosquito, and was the first to point out that while early
experiments with the carriage of malaria hy mosquitoes of the genus
Culex were negative, they might be successful with those of the genus
Anopheles, just as Boss in India failed with his initial work with Culex
and succeeded with the "dapple-winged" mosquitoes of the genus
Anopheles.

72

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Professor Angelo Celli

Professor Dr. Angelo Celli, director of the institute of hygiene, Uni-
versity of Eome, Italy. He was, up to the time of his very recent
death, one of the foremost living workers in hygiene. His investiga-
tions and those of his colleagues and students were almost simultaneous
with those of Eonald Ross in India, and largely through his personal
instrumentality malaria has been enormously reduced in Italy. The
Eoman Campagna has once more been made habitable and the health
of the peasants has very greatly improved.

PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION

73

Dr. C. L. A. Laveran

Dr. C. L. A. Laveran (ordinarily written A. Laveran), member of
the Institute of France; member of the French Academy of Medicine;
famous protozoologist; professor of protozoology, Pasteur Institute,
Paris. He was the first to demonstrate the true cause of malaria and
to describe the malarial parasite; is a very learned man in protozoology
and has occupied himself much of late years with the subject of tropical
diseases as they occur in the tropical and oriental French colonies.

74

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Z.M-r «C • 0 * how

Professor Raphael A. E. Blanchard

Professor Dr. Kaphael A. E. Blanchard (commonly known as
Raphael Blanchard), professor of parasitology of the faculty of medicine
in the University of Paris; director of the Archives of Parasitology;
author of a standard two-volume treatise on medical zoology, and one
of the most prominent figures in medical zoology to-day. He is the
author of a large work on the natural and medical history of mosquitoes,
published in Paris in 1905.

PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION

75

Dr. Edmoxd Sergext

Dr. Edmond Sergent, director of the Pasteur Institute of Algeria;
a man who, with his brother Etienne, chief of the malarial laboratory
of the Pasteur Institute of Algeria, has made a sjiecial study of malarial
mosquitoes and has devoted years to the problem of alleviating malarial
conditions in Algeria.

76

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Professor D. Marchoux

Professor D. Marchoux, microbiological laboratory, Pasteur Insti-
tute, Paris (section of tropical bacteriology) ; head of the French Com-
mission to Brazil, which carried on monumental studies concerning the
yellow-fever mosquito in Rio Janeiro, making many important dis-
coveries.

PIONEERS IN MOSQUITO SANITATION

77

Dr. „E. Simoxd

Dr. E. Simond, Pasteur Institute, Paris; was a member of the
French Commission to Rio Janeiro, with Professor D. Marchoux,
which conducted the magnificent investigations on yellow fever and the
yellow-fever mosquito, and which confirmed the work of the U. S. Army
Commission in Havana.

(To be continued)

78 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE MORAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE

By Dk. FREDERICK GOODRICH HENKE

ALLEGHENY COLLEGE, MEADVILLE, PA.

THE political events which have transpired in China during the past
two decades are symptomatic of profound social changes. Former
changes of government had their origin primarily in a discontent with
the reigning dynasty, without the further implication of a desire on the
part of the people to participate directly in the government. When the
ruling dynasty became corrupt and the oppression too severe, Heaven's
displeasure was manifested, they thought, by allowing some powerful
opponent to gain access to the throne and deliver the people. In case
the new monarch was benevolent, he was gladly received and heartily
supported. At the present time the educated people earnestly desire to
take a definite hand in the changes; and there is an insistent demand
on the part of Young China for an opportunity to take a permanent
part in governmental affairs. These ideals have been but partially
realized ; but the general situation, of which they are a part, has aroused
the interest of the civilized world, for they appear to indicate that China
will, if given the opportunit}', make a modern nation out of herself.

The ethical implications of the present movement are of outstanding
significance, as they show that real moral advance is being made. An
adequate understanding of this particular phase of the problem is best
attained by a survey of Chinese moral development from the standpoint
that genuine moral progress in any nation is dependent upon the advance
from morality on the plane of custom and tradition to autonomous
moral conduct.

The Chinese people may conveniently be divided into two principal
classes, though the line of demarcation between them has never been
drawn so hard and fast that it has not been possible for the individual
to pass from one to the other. There are first the educated — those who
read and understand the literature of the country, and who engage in
some literary or official pursuit. Official standing has in the past very
largely depended upon the literary degree held by the aspirant for office.
In the second class are found the illiterate, who, because of their unedu-
cated condition, have no knowledge of the literature of China, except
such as they acquire indirectly. The leaders of China have come from
the first class ; the members of the second class, constituting a large per-
centage of the 426,000,000 of population, have been and are to-day
living on the level of custom. Kueichu (custom) is with them a final
authority, and when it is subject to alteration, as in the present period

DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE 79

of transition, the sanctions have heen removed and confusion is apt to
follow. For the Chinese of this class custom is followed, not because
of the meaning that attaches to it, but because it is the established and
recognized way of acting. The moral sanctions have grown out of a
unique historical setting from which it is very difficult for the Chinese
to dissociate themselves.

Of the earliest period of moral development little or nothing is
known except by inference. The ancient past of China is enshrouded
in myth and mystery, — a fact which, as is well known by students of
history, is typical of all nations. This is the pre-historic period which
is present both in the race and, figuratively speaking, in the individual.
During this progress was made largely on an organic basis, or with con-
scious participation in the realization of certain immediate ends without
further thought for the future.

The historic period begins definitely at 500 B.C., when Confucius
collected, compiled and edited the chief literature of China.

He took the records of remote antiquity, and sifted them, in such wise,
however, as to exert in a most effective manner the influence of an editor,
giving to the readers of all succeeding ages only that which he wished to pro-
duce its effect on the national mind.1

He was followed by Mencius (371-287 B.C.) about one hundred and
fifty years later, who is known as the author of the " Works of Mencius."
These two men and their disciples fixed the classic literature of China
— the Six Classics and the Four Books — and by so doing determined the
ethical conceptions of their people for over two thousand years.2 From
that time the educational ideal was not the creative production of inde-
pendent literature, but the memorization and interpretation of the
classic literature. In this way the classic literature of China took the
same place in the development of China which the Vedic literature held
in India. Serving as a standard, it frustrated that spontaneous devel-
opment of thought which is a sine qua non of higher moral progress.
Not only was the second class of people in China under the sway of
custom, but the educated people -and the leaders were also completely
dominated by ideals that had been created centuries before. The en-
slavement to custom became complete, when the philosopher Chu Hsi
(a.d. 1130-1200) of the Sung Dynasty fixed the interpretation of the
classics by his commentaries. It was so thorough that signs of genuine
liberation have been present for only about two decades, and even at the
present time the majority of Chinese scholars accept the interpretation
of the philosopher Chu without further question.

In addition to the restraining effect of the classic literature, the re-

1 W. A. P. Martin, ' ' The Lore of Cathay, ' ' Eevell Company, N. Y., p. 170.

2 The sixth Classic is the ' ' Book of Filial Piety, ' ' which is sometimes
omitted in the enumeration.

So THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ligious teachings of Lao Tzu, the founder of Taoism, also discouraged
individual initiative and thereby moral progress. The sage Lao Tzu,
who was a contemporary of Confucius, found the great principle of life
in the " Tao." This term " Tao " has an abstruse and mysterious con-
notation, having been rendered " Reason," " Nature," " The Universal
Order," "The Way," "God." The following citation from the four-
teenth chapter of the "Tao-Teh-King" will show the elusiveness of its
meaning.

Looked for but invisible, it may be named ' ' colorless ' ' ;

Listened for but inaudible, — it may be named ' ' elusive. ' '

Clutched but unattainable — it may be named ' ' subtile. ' '

These three can not be unravelled by questioning, for they blend into one.

Neither brighter above nor darker below.

Its line, though continuous, is nameless, and in that it reverts to vacuity.

It may be styled ' ' the form of the formless " ; " the image of the image-
less " ; in a word the ' ' indefinite. ' '

Go in front of it and you will discover no beginning; follow after it and
you will perceive no ending.

Lay hold of this ancient doctrine; apply it in controlling the things of the
present day, you will then understand how from the first it has been
the origin of everything.

Here indeed is the clue to the Tao.3

This " form of the formless " and " image of the imageless " is viewed
as the creative, organizing principle of the universe, and should not be
hindered in its working. Lao Tzu " discouraged above all the assertive-
ness by which any individual would attempt to magnify his importance
or to interfere with the normal quiet and rational development of
things."4 The Tao-Teh-King says:

The world 's weakest drives the world 's strongest.
The indiscernible penetrates where there are no crevices.
From this I perceive the advantages of non-action.

Few indeed in the world realize the instruction of silence, or the benefits
of inaction. s

These and other available passages from the "Tao-Teh-King" show
clearly that Lao Tzu also made his contribution to a more complete en-
slavement to custom.

The introduction of Buddhism into China during the reign of the
Emperor Ming-Ti (a.d. 58-76) did little or nothing toward stimulating
a genuine development of the moral ideal. Buddhism in its inception
and development has consisted almost entirely of methods whereby the
individual may rid himself of the evil effects of desire. Its influence has

s C. Spurgeon Medhurst, ' ' The Tao Teh King, ' ' Chicago, Independent
Book Co.. p. 24 f.

* Paul S. Eeinsch, "Intellectual and Political Currents in the Far East,"
p. 123.

s C. Spurgeon Medhurst, ' ' The Tao Teh King. ' ' p. 75.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE 81

been quite largely negative, for it takes men out of society. Abstract
and monotonous contemplation according to definite rules is typical of
its techniques. Such inwardness is fatal to the genuine autonomy of
higher morality. So far from leading men forward into higher cultural
life, it simply burdened them with further groups of customs. Owing
to the fact that discrimination has not set in, large numbers, if not all,
of the Chinese are at one and the same time Confucianists, Taoists and
Buddhists.

In all this the ethical ideal which was emphasized by Confucius and
interpreted later by the philosopher Chu has had a profound influence on
the majority of the Chinese. It is succinctly expressed in the Great
Learning in the following words:

The ancients who wished to promote virtuous conduct throughout the king-
dom, first ordered well their own states. Wishing to order well their own states,
they first regulated their families. Wishing to regulate their families, they
first cultivated their persons. Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first
rectified their hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be
sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere in their thoughts, they first
extended to the utmost their knowledge. Such investigation of knowledge lay
in the investigation of things.s

This descending series should be approached from below, so that it
involves ascent rather than descent. Broad knowledge of self and others
is the foundation, and upon this are built in succession sincere thoughts,
rectified minds, practise of personal virtue, well regulated families, well
ordered states, and finally the promotion of practical virtue throughout
the kingdom. Such ideals challenge the admiration of all men and might
well stimulate autonomic conduct. Unfortunately, as we have indicated,
the whole series rested on a basis of convention, so that it was little more
than mere form.

The situation is similar in the instance of the five social relation-
ships— of husband and wife, father and son, brothers, prince and
officer, and friends. They do not rest on a rational basis, but have be-
come incrusted with layer upon layer of custom. An illustration or two
will serve to elucidate this point.

In case of severe illness of a parent, there has been a generally held
belief among the Chinese for thousands of years that a cure can not be
effected, unless a piece of the flesh of the son is cooked and then eaten
by the parent. Naturally cases of this sort are not everyday occur-
rences, but they have the sanction of custom and in extreme instances are
adopted. References to this have frequently appeared in Chinese papers.
Dr. Smith assures us that he has become " personally acquainted with a
young man who cut off a slice of his leg to cure his mother and who
exhibited the scar with the pardonable pride of an old soldier."7 He also

6 * ' The Great Learning, ' ' Introduction, p. 4.

7 Arthur H. Smith, ' ' Chinese Characteristics, ' ' New York, 1894, p. 178.

vol. lxxxvii. — 6.

82 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

cites the experience of Abbe Hue. Having occasion to send a messen-
ger, the latter thought that a Chinese schoolmaster who was working for
him might desire to improve the opportunity to send a letter to his
old mother whom he had not seen for four years. The schoolmaster,
upon hearing that the messenger would leave soon, called one of
his pupils, saying: "Take this paper and write me a letter to my
mother." M. Hue was surprised and proceeded to inquire whether the
boy was acquainted with the teacher's mother. Receiving a negative re-
ply, he said : " How then is he to know what to write ? " The schoolmas-
ter answered : " Doesn't he know quite well what to say ? For more
than a year he has been studying literary composition, and he is ac-
quainted with a number of elegant formulas. Do you think he does
not know perfectly well how a son ought to write to a mother ? "8 The
boy returned the letter to his teacher sealed, and it was thus forwarded.
It would "have answered equally well for any other mother in the
Empire."

The tremendous population of China is also largely the outgrowth
of the requirement of Confucianism that the son shall worship at the
grave of his deceased parents. No greater honor can come to a woman
than to be the mother of a son. If she fails of this, she is not infre-
quently obliged to make room for another who can bear a son, for no man
is content until he has a son who can worship at his grave. Until this
superstition is brought under the light of reflection, excessive propa-
gation will continue and with it moral development will be retarded.

But withal the situation is somewhat better than it would appear.
Fortunately for China, agencies have been at work in the past that were
operative in the right direction. Of these, we may distinguish both
rationalizing and socializing forces. The value of these agencies as
factors in promoting moral development depends largely upon their
advancing pari passu. Eationalizing forces make for systematic con-
duct based upon natural law as a result of reflection and scientific con-
trol; socializing forces contribute to a more equal distribution of the
concrete things that satisfy the health, wealth, sociability, knowledge,
beauty, Tightness, and religion desires of the human being. Two men
stand out very prominently in Chinese history, previous to the present
reform movement, as making a serious attempt to break away from
custom and advance the moral condition of the Chinese. Their efforts
were not crowned with success at the time, but they served to keep alive
the spark of progress which was all but extinguished.

The first was Wang An-shih of the Sung Dynasty, a.d. 1055-1085.
Realizing the poverty -stricken condition of his people in contrast to
their prosperity under the sage emperors Yao and Shun and Chou Kung,
he was very anxious to do something for them. The Emperor Shen-

s ibid., pp. 180, 181.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE 83

Tsimg asked him one day, " If I were to make you chief minister of state,
what would you do ? " "I would change the customs and institute re-
forms/' Wang replied.9 Thereupon the emperor formed a board of three
officials, whose task it was to investigate the condition of the country
and to suggest where improvement might be made. This board sent
out officers throughout the country "to report upon the nature of the
soil, where watered and where not, where it was rich and where it was
poor," and to give other information that might help to alleviate the
condition of the farmer. The outcome of this movement was the intro-
duction of four reforms:

1. The first was a state monopoly of commerce. The commerce of
the country was to be carried on by the state instead of by the people.
The plan is briefly summed up by MacGowan as follows :

The taxes for the future should be paid in the produce of the district
where they were levied, and the state should furnish funds to buy up what was
left. This should be transported to different parts of the country where a good
market could be found and sold at a reasonable profit. Thus would the state
be benefited and the poorer classes be saved from the oppression of the rich,
who had been in the habit of buying cheaply and selling at exorbitant prices.

This reform included a scheme for state advances to cultivators of the
soil. The government loaned money to all farmers in the spring when
the seed was sown, and a definite sum of money was returned in the
fall by the farmers. These loans netted about two per cent, per month.

2. The second reform was an attempt to equalize taxation. To this
end the country was divided into Fangtien, or square fields, one thousand
steps on each side, and the taxes on each were appraised in the ninth
moon, " according to the general average of the producing power of the
soil, which was divided into five classes according to its fertility.10

3. The third reform measure introduced militia organization. Every
ten families were organized into a group with a headman called a Pao-
chang; five such groups, or fifty families, were formed into a larger group
with a higher commander; and ten of the larger groups formed a district.
All homes having more than one son were obliged to give one in service
to the state. The members of the militia were allowed to remain at
home in time of peace, but when war or disturbance threatened they were
called out by the headmen. Modifications of this reform were later
used in the Ming and Tsing Dynasties.

4. The last of the great reforms of Wang An-shih was that of provid-
ing for the construction of public works by means of a family tax. He
wished to remove the abuses that grew out of compulsory labor. His plan
was to rate the tax required in accordance with the property of the fam-

9 J. MacGowan, "Imperial History of China," Shanghai, 1906, p. 383.

10 John C. Ferguson, ' ' Wang An-Shih, ' ' an article in the Journal of the
North China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. 35, p. 72.

84 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ily. The method which was devised to secure accurate information for
this purpose caused great confusion and misery.

On the whole, AYang An-shih's attempted rationalization and social-
ization of conduct was not successful. He was unwise in some of his
efforts, and was vigorously opposed hy Sz-ma Kwan and other prominent
officials at the time. Nevertheless, certain permanent benefits from his
reforms came down to later generations, and, what is more, his effort
remains as one of the outstanding attempts to break the shackles of
custom.

A second great moral reformer who broke with custom was AYang
Yang-ming, or Wang Shou-jen. He inculcated doctrines which have
had a profound effect upon the Japanese during the past one hundred
years, and which are to-day wielding a great influence upon the Chinese
mind.

The date of Wang's life is approximately 1472-1 528. u As com-
pared with contemporary European history, he lived in the period of the
great maritime discoveries and at the beginning of the Eeformation. He
was fearlessly propounding his views in China shortly before Giordano
Bruno, after a life of restless wandering in search of truth, suffered
martyrdom for his philosophic exposition of the universe, and about a
century previous to Hobbes, Descartes and Spinoza.

The most important thing about his philosophy is that it does not
unreservedly advocate the interpretation given to the classics by former
scholars, but insists on a rationalization which gives room for progres-
sive adjustment. For him, human life, both in the race and in the in-
dividual, was a developing thing. He insisted that the highest values
of life are realized only through development, and that apart from de-
velopment life must prove a miserable failure. That he failed to ap-
proach the problem from the modern scientific view does not detract from
the fact that he actually got a glimpse of the developmental character
of human institutions, and that such a standpoint will invariably result
in moral progress if thoroughly assimilated.

The one sentence, "My nature is sufficient," gives the foundation
upon which the whole structure of his philosophy and ethics rests. Man's
mind holds the key to all the problems of the universe. Nature — ex-
perience, we would probably say — is the stuff out of which the universe is
made. This nature may be viewed from different aspects, but in what-
ever way it is approached, it is just this one nature.

Beferring to its form and substance, it is Heaven; considered as ruler or
lord, it is Shangti (God); viewed as functioning, it is fate; as given to men,
it is disposition; and as controlling the person it is mind; manifested by mind
it is called filial piety when it meets parents, and loyalty when it meets the prince.
Proceeding from this on, it is inexhaustible, but it is all one nature.12

11 Vide Monist, Vol. XXIV., No. 1, p. 17 ff.

12 Wang Yang-ming, "Philosophy," Book I., p. 23. This reference is to
the Chinese edition published by the Commercial Press, Shanghai.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE 85

If nature at large be designated as the macrocosm, then human
nature is the microcosm, and for Wang human nature was the human
mind. He was taking recreation at Nanch'en, when one of his friends
pointed to the flowers and trees on a cliff and said, " You say that there
is nothing under Heaven outside the mind. What relation exists be-
tween my mind and those flowers and trees on the high mountain,
which blossom and drop of themselves ?" Wang replied : " When you
cease regarding these flowers, they become quiet with your mind. When
you see them, their colors at once become clear. From this you can
know that these flowers are not external to your mind." This is undis-
guised idealism, in which the microcosm creates as truly as does the mac-
rocosm. In the great all-pervading unity of nature the most differ-
entiated, highly specialized portion is the human mind. It manifests
the only creative ability that man can really know. Wang said again
and again that it is db initio law, that it is the embodiment of the prin-
ciples of Heaven. Thus its very essence is natural law ; but not in any
partial, superficial sense. There are no other principles operative any-
where, for the mind is so all-embracing that it has no internal and ex-
ternal.

The influence of this point of view upon Wang's ethical theory and
practise was profound. He held that it is not necessary to go to the
classic literature to get a knowledge of fundamental ethical principles,
for the human mind has these principles within itself. Intuitive knowl-
edge of good is to be identified with moral principles. He who would
have accurate information regarding right and wrong can get it from the
intuitive faculty. The highest good consists in developing it to the ut-
most. It is to the details of right and wrong and to changing circum-
stances as compasses and squares are to squares and circles, and meas-
ure to length and breadth.

The changes in circumstances relative to details can not be determined
beforehand, just as the size of the square or the circle, and length and breadth
can not be perfectly estimated. But when compasses and squares have been
set, there can be no deception about the size of the circle or the square, and when
the rule and measure have been fixed there can be no desception about length or
shortness. When the intuitive faculty has been completely developed, there can
be no deception regarding its application to changing details.is

Wang is to-day read extensively by Chinese students, and will prob-
ably influence the Chinese as much as he has the Japenese. He has
the advantage over many other rationalizing and socializing forces of the
present day in that his point of view is a direct product of the Chinese
mind and therefore strikes a sympathetic chord in the mind of the
Chinese scholars. As a rationalizing and socializing factor in the de-
velopment of Chinese morals it exhibits the following doctrines-:

13 Wang Yang-ming, ' ' Philosophy, ' ' Book III., p. 61 f .

86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

1. Every individual may understand the fundamental principles of
life and of things, including moral laws, by learning to understand his
own mind and by developing his own nature. This means that it is not
necessary to use the criteria of the past as present-day standards. Each
individual is able to determine for himself what is right and wrong.
Like Protagoras among the Greeks, Wang Yang-ming among the
Chinese held that " Man is the measure of all things."

2. On the practical side, Wang taught that every individual is under
obligation to keep knowledge and action, theory and practise together, for
the former is so intimately related to the latter that its very existence is
involved. There can be no real knowledge without action. The indi-
vidual has within himself the spring of knowledge and should constantly
carry into practise those things that his intuitive knowledge of good
gives him opportunity to do.

3. Wang taught that heaven, earth, man and all things are an all-
pervading unity. The universe is the macrocosm, and each human mind
is a microcosm. This naturally leads to the conceptions, equality of
opportunity and liberty, and as such serves well as the fundamental
principle of social activity and reform.

Turning to the present reform period, we find two further types of
forces at work in the moral development of the Chinese. Of these the
first is the work of the modern Chinese reformers, and the second the
impact of outside influences upon China. While these are discrete in
certain aspects, they coalesce at many points. The ends sought do not
differ greatly. The Chinese reformer of the present day recognizes the
value of occidental techniques and of the principles of our civilization.
This entails a rationalization and socialization of conduct which destroys
the value of many Chinese customs and stimulates reflection on problems
of conduct.

Among the principal Chinese reformers of the last two decades we
may name K'ang Yu-wei, Liang Ch'i-ch'ao, T'an Ssu-t'ung, Dr. Sun
Yat-sen and the men associated with them. Almost from the first their
object was to rid China of the abuses of an absolute form of government.
K'ang Yu-wei, Liang Ch'i-ch'ao and T'an Ssu-t'ung were intimately
connected with the "hundred days of reform" and the "coup d'etat
of 1898," when an attempt was made to inaugurate a milder, more lib-
eral form of government. T'an was executed the same year, while
K'ang Yu-wei and Liang Ch'i-ch'ao escaped. Dr. Sun was connected
with a movement in Canton against the government in 1895, as a result
of which he became a fugitive. He returned to his country in the
autumn of 1911 and became Provisional President of China and a prom-
inent member of the People's Party (Kuo-ming-tang). These men and
their associates have done much to awaken an interest in republican
principles of government, social reform and individual initiative. Liang

DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE 87

Ch'i-ch'ao has been Minister of Justice under President Yuan Shih-kai
and also editor of the Yung Yen Pao ("Justice"), published in Tient-
sin twice a month. K'ang Yu-wei carried on reform work from Japan.
All of these men had high ideals for their country — ideals which have
been but partly realized owing to the condition of the masses of the
people and to official opposition.

As far as the impact of outside influences is concerned, western edu-
cation has been a strong factor in showing that the old ideals and tech-
niques are inadequate, as compared with those of western countries.
Students have gone to England, Germany and America, and have had
ocular demonstration of the prosperous social and economic condition
of the people there. They have seen democratic principles practically
applied; and the fundamental principles of western civilization, as well
as the scientific attitude toward the problems of life, have been acquired
by them in the colleges and universities. Returning to their country,
they have by example and precept promoted individualism and social
justice. Some have gone to Japan and have seen what great changes
are taking place under the influence of the modern movement there.
Other students, upon entering schools established by Europeans and
Americans under the supervision of various missionary societies, have
become acquainted with western ideals for the individual and society.
They, too, have taken an active part in propagating ideas that stimulate
advance from custom into reflective morality. The influence of these
factors, and the sad experiences of the Boxer uprising, were so per-
vasive that Tzu Hsi, the Empress Dowager, upon the advice of Yuan
Shih-kai and Chang Chi-tung, issued a decree in 1904 abolishing the
old system of examinations and making graduation at one of the modern
colleges the only recognized path to official employment. The abolition
of the old system of education and the introduction of new ideals in the
schools throughout China was one of the principal causes of the over-
throw of absolutism and the founding of the Eepublic. And since the
founding of the Eepublic, the old conception of the education as an
instrument for making loyal subjects of the Emperor has, according to
the ministry of education, been -changed into an attempt to utilize edu-
cation as a means of cultivating moral and virtuous character for the
purpose of qualifying both men and women for citizenship.

The commercial relations existing between China and foreign coun-
tries since the forced introduction of opium have also furthered the
moral development of China. The development of commerce, industry
and art affects the moral life in three important ways. ( 1 ) "It gives
new interests, and opportunity for individual activity."14 (2) These
increased opportunities bring forward the question of values. Are all
the new activities good? If so, what can be done to promote them?

"Dewey and Tufts, "Ethics," p. 153.

88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

If not, what shall be done to hinder their progress? (3) The develop-
ment of commerce raises the question of distribution. Are the goods
distributed in a just manner? Are all the people of the country re-
ceiving their equitable portion ? Manifestly the introduction of modern
commercial and industrial methods will in time involve a tremendous
change in the economic life of the Chinese. There are indications in
China to-day of the beginning of an industrial revolution similar to
the one in Europe in the second half of the eighteenth century. Rail-
way transportation of commercial products has affected thousands of
wheelbarrow coolies. The introduction of cotton and wool clothing
has thrown large numbers of silk weavers out of employment. Modern
machines are rapidly being introduced in the larger and more accessible
cities and will soon follow in all parts of the country. Situations of
this sort give rise to urgent moral problems and result in moral advance.

While educative and commercial forces have been operative, the in-
troduction of Christianity into China through missionary enterprise in
chapels and hospitals, has also greatly furthered moral progress. Chris-
tianity has called attention to moral evils and has created a sense of sin
and unworthiness which has helped many to break away from pernicious
customs. It has engendered a more adequate appreciation of the ideals
of brotherhood and social justice and thereby has stimulated new con-
ceptions of the relation of man to man, and of mutual responsibility.
It has emphasized the worth of the soul, and in so doing has given added
worth to individual life. Thousands have accepted the principles of
Christianity — some consciously, other unconsciously. Many of these —
especially women — have been encouraged to learn to read, and the ability
thus acquired has served not only the immediately desired end of read-
ing the Bible, but has also widened the intellectual horizon and created
new and larger interests. Christianity has probably done more during
the last hundred years than all other forces combined to liberate Chinese
women from the shackles of custom.

China has entered a period of transition comparable to the period
of the Sophists of ancient Athens, the Eenaissance and the Reformation
in western Europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the indus-
trial revolution of the eighteenth century, and the French Revolution.
Old landmarks are being swept away; foot-binding will probably never
reappear, and it is highly probable that opium will be effectually
driven from the country. But certain old landmarks will be reinstated
■ — in a modified form, perhaps, though not necessarily. At a feast given
in the city of Nanking shortly after the formation of the Provisional
Republic of China, one of the prominent officials of Sun Yat-sen's gov-
ernment informed the guests that "Confucianism is forever dead."
Since that time it has received official recognition from President Yuan
Shih-kai, and the titles and privileges which the lineal descendants of

DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHINESE 89

Confucius had enjoyed under the Manehu dynasty, including the title
of " Holy Duke/' have been restored. China will not make the transi-
tion from customary morality to reflective morality in a few years, nor
can a truly republican form of government be established there prior
to a general rise of educational conditions. Japan awoke from her sleep
in 1854 as a result of the coming of Admiral Perry, and soon thereafter
instituted a campaign of reform. The Japanese have now become
aware of the fact that they confront a great problem, and are to-day in
the very act of discovering and confirming rational standards of con-
duct. Custom and reflection are waging mighty battles there to-day,
for the modern movement is in full swing. In China the rational and
social forces which have been set in motion should be allowed to operate
until that great country has taken the necessary step from customary
to reflective morality and has taken its place among the nations of the
world.

go THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

WATER CONSERVATION, FISHERIES AND FOOD

SUPPLY1

By Dr. ROBERT B. COKER

U. S. FISHERIES BIOLOGICAL STATION, FAIRPORT, IA.

A National Problem
"~VTO subject of national economy has broader significance to-day than
-L-^l that of water conservation. Every one knows that unrestrained
floods wreak yearly an enormous destruction of property. Our flood
losses have, indeed, been computed at 200 millions of dollars per year.
All are aware that the demands of power are contributing to the
gradual exhaustion of our coal deposits, while the possibilities of
deriving power from the flow of water remain at our grasp. A single
water power of recent development has been estimated to effect a yearly
saving of 365 thousands of tons of coal even at the very outset of its
operations. Every intelligent conservationist, whether farmer, business
man or student, observes that over the country-wide the soils are being
impoverished by the wash of surface waters, and the fertile lands are
being carried away to enrich the sea. If we seek figures again, we are
told that one and one-quarter billion tons of silt are deposited annually
in the Mississippi River, one half of which serves to impede navigation
and the other half to extend the state of Louisiana out into the Gulf of
Mexico. One who has observed the soils of the middle west in a state
of productivity, and again the same or similar soils in the form of use-
less and rapidly broadening flats at the tip of the delta of the Missis-
sippi, can not but be deeplv impressed with the ultimate wastefulness
of permitting the transfer of soils from a place where they are useful
to a place where they are injurious.

If we view only the most obvious losses, we begin to realize the
significance of water conservation; but still we may be far short of
comprehending the magnitude of the forfeit that we regularly pay for
an inadequate policy or practise with regard to our supplies of water.
While agriculture, and consequently the flood supply of the future, may
suffer from the erosion and leaching of soils, economists assure us that
there are immense areas of farming lands which are diminished in pro-
duction, because at the critical season they lack the moisture that might,
with different methods of tillage, have been conserved in the soil from

i Published by permission of Dr. Hugh. M. Smith, United States Commis-
sioner of Fish and Fisheries; the author alone is responsible for the opinions
expressed.

WATER CONSERVATION 91

the time of water surfeit.2 Again, while rivers become torrential and
destructive, submerging valuable farming lands and taking a toll of
property and lives, yet, because the spring waters were allowed to pass
quickly away unstored in soils or reservoirs, these same streams at other
periods are found to be so restricted in volume and so checkered in
course by accumulated drift that the pathways of natural transporta-
tion are more or less effectively closed.

It is clearly within reason to say, then, that no other form of material
waste can be measured against the stupendous aggregate resulting from
the failure to conserve and control and utilize the available supplies of
water. It is easy to understate the importance of water conservation,
while overstatement would almost seem beyond our powers. Water-
power development and the conservation of coal deposits, soil conserva-
tion and the reclamation of arid and semi-arid lands by irrigation or
by " dry-land" methods, reforestation and flood control, reclamation
of overflowed lands and maintenance of inland waterways, stream
pollution and fisheries — these several objects, each of great importance
by itself, are all, in large measure, aspects of the one comprehensive
problem. Each of these admitted obligations has a direct relation to
our duty of storing the available water supply in soils or in reservoirs,
of regulating its flow from source to sea, and of utilizing it to the
maximum at all stages, for power and navigation, for farms and forestry,
for sanitation and fisheries. Stated in this way, with all its manifold
bearings, the general problem may assume an exaggerated appearance
of complexity. Surely water conservation is broad in its relations, and
surely its complete realization will not be attained in a day or in a
generation, and yet the stages of the solution of the entire problem may
be just such matter-of-fact steps as we are repeatedly taking in the
ordinary course of practical progress.

Fisheries have been named just above as related to water conserva-
tion. The relation might be obvious and yet insignificant : this may
be called the prevailing impression. Fresh-water fisheries have been
practically entirely disregarded in connection with the conservation of
water; nevertheless, it can, I believe, be made apparent, first, that the
possibilities of food-supply from fresh-water fisheries in public waters
will be realized only as water conservation becomes a reality, and,
second, that the proper development of fish-raising as a principal or
incidental occupation may, in a very practical and simple way, promote
the general object of water conservation.

2 Wall, Judson G., "Flood Prevention and Its Eelation to the Nation's Food
Supply," Science, N. S., XL., No. 1019, pp. 44-47, July 10, 1914; signed
as chairman of the committee on soil erosion of the Social and Economic Section
of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. A strong and
suggestive paper, but without mention of fisheries.

92 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fisheries, a Matter of Concern

It is not very difficult to understand why the fisheries so rarely
receive mention in discussions of water conservation. In the general
mind, fresh-water fisheries do not rank with the bases of industry so
much as with the means of recreation. Some industries assert them-
selves by figures, but, in the way of statistics, the fresh-water fisheries
have not the striking appeal of established agricultural industries:
statistically speaking, we can not now compare fish with potatoes.
Primarily, however, people do not think of fisheries in connection with
water conservation, because it is not generally understood that the two
have a connection worthy of consideration. It is worth while to inquire
if there is a relation of real significance.

The value and the meaning of the fish resources to the people of
the United States depends upon the contribution of an important ele-
ment of food supply and the offering of a peculiar field of recreation.
Perhaps, in the mind of the average man of this country, the one bene-
fit would be regarded in equal measure with the other. This is not an
inevitable or universal condition; it is an incident of the present state
of the fishery. There are countries where the taking of fish for sport is
almost unknown, but where the fish resources are regarded as of vital
moment to the welfare of the people, and where the capture and the
preservation and the distribution of fish are industries that are recog-
nized to be of elemental importance, in similar fashion to agriculture.
In many other counties fish forms much more of a staple food than
with us, and a far larger proportion of the people find a livelihood in
the fishery industries. Our people are not essentially different from
others in their appetites and bodily needs.

The basic claim of fisheries to public recognition rests upon the part
that fish must play in the future food supply of the country ; but how
is it to be said what this future part will be? Certainly the future
is not to be measured by the present. We know that the fisheries of our
principal streams are in a state of depletion except in rare localities, and
we know, though we are much less conscious of this fact, that the
compensatory development of commercial fishery resources in the rivers,
by artificial propagation or by other well-directed means, is relatively
slight. Nearly all of our thought, all of our energies, all of our ex-
penditures, have been directed to promote the abundance of game fishes,
and perhaps we might have to confess that we were thinking not so
much of providing something to eat as of supplying something to catch.

A little reflection, a little common sense, will suggest to us that
neither the present nor the past condition of the interior fisheries fore-
shadows the future. As our country becomes more thickly populated,
as the capacities of the lands become more and more severely taxed,
as the prices of meats mount higher, it is inevitable that we shall look

WATER CONSERVATION 93

more to the possibilities of our waters to supply us with food. The
true fish conservationist should look forward to something more than
the preservation or the protection of existing fisheries: in fact, his
ideal may well be a development of fishery resources that is now scarcely
conceived in the public mind. We do not want, in fisheries, a restora-
tion of the past, but the inauguration of a future.

Floods and Fishes

On every hand there are explanations of the diminution of the
number of food- fish of the rivers; but surely this can be ascribed only
in part to the causes of over-fishery or to other direct acts of man. One
ultimate explanation, it may be confidently stated, will be found in
those very conditions which have indirectly affected the flow of our
great streams in so disastrous a way as to create a demand upon the
government for the storage of waters and the regulation of the flow of
streams. Deforestation, denudation, drainage — to these causes, among
others, are ascribed the extreme flood conditions ensuing upon the de-
velopment of the country, and to these likewise may be attributed a sig-
nificant change in the condition of our rivers as bearing upon the nat-
ural reproduction and sustenance of fish.

The occurrence of spasmodic floods, of comparatively short duration
and separated by intervals of extreme low water, have a deleterious
effect upon fish life in manifold ways. The first realization of this
fact comes with the observation of enormous numbers of young fish
left in the overflow ponds isolated by the recession of the flood. The
significance of the observation is not in any way grasped if we suppose
that these innumerable fish were simply carried out by chance and left
by a similar chance. The real phenomenon is this. The flood oc-
curred when the breeding fish were seeking the shallow and warmer
waters for the location of their nests and the deposition of the eggs.
When the young from these eggs, together with the adults, are left to
starve and suffocate and die in the disappearing or diminishing pools,
we see, not the loss of a random proportion of the fish life of the stream,
but the actual decimation of a generation. Consequently, it should be
esteemed of high importance to reclaim and restore to the rivers the
fish thus abandoned otherwise to destruction. Such overflow ponds are
now, to be sure, a common source of supply for government and state
departments seeking fish for general distribution. It is better that the
"lost" fish should be used for some good purpose, rather than left to
die, but, that our impression may not be confused, it should be remem-
bered that the conservation of fish in the particular stream is regarded
and promoted only in so far as the greater part of the fish are returned
to the river, and this is done in some cases.

It may not and does not always occur that the flood comes just be-
fore the fish have begun to nest. It may occur while the eggs are yet

94 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

unhatched, and where they have been placed in favored locations along
the shores of the streams at low stage. We may then only guess at the
destruction which must ensue when the entire condition is suddenly
and drastically altered by the untimely arrival of the flood. Clear
shallow waters, warmed by the sun, are in a brief space of time replaced
by deep and turbid torrents, and the very banks and bottoms are torn
away or displaced. To fish life another catastrophe has occurred.

It will not be maintained that any practicable scheme of control,
however comprehensive, will prevent altogether the occurrence of high
and low stages, but it has been attempted to show that the regulation of
the flow of rivers has a very direct relation to the reproduction of fish.

Without successful reproduction we certainly can not have fish; but
the abundance of fish, even under natural conditions, does not depend
alone upon successful propagation. The young fish must survive and
grow, and for these ends their requirements are similar to those of other
animals, namely, food and oxygen, principally. Likewise, just as in
the case of other animals, the food is derived ultimately from the es-
sential chemical constituents through the intermediation of plants.
The rains that wash the soils bring the needed constituents into the
streams, but not necessarily in a form available for animal life; for
them to become available requires time, sunlight and vegetation.

It is clear that excessive turbidity and extreme conditions of flood
have the most direct bearing upon the conditions of food supply for
fish. Not only is this the case, but extreme low stages may have a
highly deleterious effect. The first result of the decomposition of or-
ganic matters brought into the water is the exhaustion of the oxygen
supply, and this may proceed to such a point as to make the environment
distinctly unfavorable for any form of aquatic animal life. The begin-
ning of mortality among the animals, whether smaller or larger forms,
by adding to the amount of decomposing material, only serves to in-
crease the rate of deoxygenation of the water and to accelerate the
course of destruction. Such a catastrophe can be checked or restricted
as to its duration or territory of action only by the development of
sufficient plant-life to effect a restoration of equilibrium, or by the
diluting and cleansing effect of an increased flow in the stream. Some
of the instances not infrequently reported of enormous mortality of
fish in portions of rivers just below cities and in times of low water
are most certainly due to this very fact of a disturbance of the estab-
lished equilibrium between sewage, plants and animals, with a conse-
quent mortality that is self-accelerative to the point of inducing a con-
spicuous catastrophe.

Conservation of Favorable Environments
There has been developing in recent years almost a new science
which deals with the gas-content and the chemical analysis of water,

WATER CONSERVATION 95

as affecting the value of the water as a habitat for animal life. Sur-
prisingly interesting observations and inferences have been made, but
nothing has been learned to gainsay the statement that, to realize any-
thing like the potential abundance of fish-life in our streams, it is neces-
sary to approach more nearly to a condition of stable equilibrium. The
primary difference between a natural stream or pond and an artificial
fish-cultural pond is that in the latter the conditions are relatively stable
and subject to a degree of control.

It is not to be supposed that water-power development has no rela-
tion to fisheries except as expressed in the presence or absence of a fish-
way. It may be inferred from what has previously been said that arti-
ficial pools at intervals in the course of a stream, entirely apart from
the question of flshways, may bring substantial advantages in provid-
ing relatively extensive feeding and breeding grounds for fish, in af-
fording conditions of relative stability, and in tending indirectly to
make more uniform the conditions prevailing in the streams below or
between the pools.

It becomes increasingly clear that all matters affecting the flow of
streams have the most vital bearing upon the promotion of fishery re-
sources, as touching reproduction, nourishment and respiration.

The artificial propagation of fish, even under present conditions, is
producing results of significant value; but it is no disparagement of
such operations to venture the prediction that the future will show that
the effective conservation of fishery resources depends upon the coup-
ling of intelligent fish-culture with comprehensive and well-advised
conservation of the environment favorable, both to the natural propa-
gation of fish and to the multiplication of the essential elements of
food supply.

The requirements of reasonable brevity prevent our enlarging upon
the relation of fisheries to the various other phases of the general
scheme of water conservation. Just a few suggestions may be ventured.
It has been advocated in at least one state that the reclamation of over-
flowed lands should be so administered as not to eliminate entirely
the favored breeding grounds of many species of fish. It would seem
possible so to coordinate the two objects of retaining "fish-preserves"
and providing lateral storage basins for flood waters as to promote
simultaneously the conservation of fish and the prevention of floods.

In the irrigation fields of the west, it appears that there is not only
a neglect of the possible advantages for fish life, but an unfortunate
waste of the existing fish resources, owing to the want of suitable pro-
tecting screens in the irrigation laterals. The opportunities and the
needs are not, however, unrecognized, and the subject receives serious
consideration in some of the states concerned.

Stream pollution by sewage or industrial wastes has the closest re-

96 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

lation to fishery problems. Under some conditions a degree of stream
pollution may prove distinctly favorable to the abundance of fish: in
other cases it is unequivocally injurious. If the matter is one of sig-
nificance to the fisheries, it is certainly true, on the other hand, that the
problem of stream pollution, in its phases of ordinary interest, can not
be studied to a definite conclusion except through analyses of the effects
of the pollution upon the living aquatic organisms. This is to say,
that the study of the sanitation of our streams involves the investiga-
tion of the effects upon fish or upon the organisms constituting the
food of fish.

The dredging of channels and the construction of wing-dams as
aids to navigation exert an unmistakable influence upon the distribu-
tion of fish and affect the fortunes of their existence in more or less
obvious ways.

The conservation of water upon the farm remains for our considera-
tion ; but, if we may be permitted to draw a conclusion at this stage, it
is this : — Whether we deal with head-water reservoirs for the regulation
of stream flow, with water-power development and the incident pools,
with reclamation or irrigation projects, with the dredging and damming
for navigation purposes, or with stream pollution by any means, we
find a vital relation to fishery problems and to fish-cultural operations.
We find also a real necessity for the accumulation of a sufficient store
of knowledge regarding the habits of fish, their requirements for feed-
ing and breathing and breeding, and how these requirements are af-
fected by the conditions that may prevail in our streams, lakes and
ponds. We need, in short, an effective fishery science.

Water Storage and Fish Culture

We have already expressed the belief that the relation of fishery de-
velopment to water conservation is not one of dependence only, but one
of reciprocal benefits as well. It must be clear that we are speaking of
development, not by protection, but by conservation of fish, with all that
the term may imply. The word itself is unavoidably repeated fre-
quently in such a discussion, because "conservation" alone seems to
embody the whole thought of increase in supply along with development
in utilization, as opposed to hoarding or restriction in use.

Could we think of an agriculture based upon protective measures?
Could we imagine a modern nation dependent upon corn and cattle
and poultry growing wild? Suppose a series of limitations for the
perpetuation of crops and stock-yield, similar to the familiar measures
for the preservation of fish or game; no scythe to have a blade more
than 3 feet long, no individual to take more than 500 ears of corn per
day, or to kill more than 10 pigs or 5 sheep or 2 cows per year. The
very suggestion has a touch of absurdity: and yet such is the present

WATER CONSERVATION 97

stage of our civilization or industrial life, as regards the utilization of
fish. jSTot only ma}- we question if this condition is permanent and
inevitable, but we may be sure that the time will come when we will
want fish to eat much more generally than now, and will get them by
raising them in a larger way than is now done. We may have a familiar
science of aquiculture just as we now have one of agriculture. It is
interesting to note that, at the present time, there are sections of the
country and classes of people for which fish forms a really staple food.
This demand is so reflected in the commercial fishery that the coarser
fishes, which, only a little while ago, were regarded as entirely super-
fluous or obnoxious, have become the mainstay of the commercial fisher-
men. It is still more interesting to observe that, among all classes of
people, there is a noticeable awakening to the value of fish, and, con-
comitantly, a tendency to inquire if there is not some way to increase
the supply of good table fish.

Let us now imagine that a great impetus could be given to the
rearing of fish for table use as an occupation or as an adjunct to or-
dinary farming operations, until the fish pond were half as familiar as
the poultry yard, and then let us inquire if there would be any effect
upon the matter of water conservation.

The objects of flood prevention and navigation may be furthered
in a temporary way by the construction of levees, by restriction of chan-
nels, and by dredging. All of these menus are good; in fact they are
essential for immediate relief; but the final accomplishment of the de-
sired ends must be sought in the regulation of the flow of the rivers,
and this undoubtedly will come about through the conservation of water
at the sources. We sometimes think of this as being possible of at-
tainment only by the construction of large artificial storage reservoirs
at enormous expense, and often such a plan is called impracticable.
Leaving that question, as we must, to the engineer, we may look to
other and smaller measures which are certainly not impracticable.
Smaller measure, we say, but we know that the cumulative effect of
innumerable small efforts may in the long run be vaster than that of
more spectacular and expensive operations.

It is said that much can be accomplished by the proper methods
of tilling the soil to prevent run-off s and to compel the filtration of the
rainfall into the soil. We are told of large farms that are so worked
as to prevent any water at all running off the farm, while at the same
time increasing the productivity of the farm with its cultivated fields,
grazing lands and forests.3 The methods are said to be simple and
inexpensive, but an inquiry into them is apart from our present purpose.

Besides increasing the absorbent qualities of the soil, there is
something which almost every farmer can do, that relatively few now

s Wall, Jutfsoxi Gr., loc. cit.

VOL. LXXXVII. — 7.

98 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

think worth while. He can make one or more ponds in which much
of the surface water is caught and stored for the subsequent use of his
animals, and he can stock this pond with fish for domestic use, or for
the market.

On the one hand, what a considerable addition to the food supply
of the country would be found in such productive ponds. We are told
of the fabulous wealth represented by the American hen,4 and so it may
yet be with the American catfish, the buffalo-fish, the sunfishes, or the
bass. There is much to indicate that one can raise fish with less trouble
and with as much profit as one rears poultry.

On the other hand, if one third of the 6,000,000 American farms
had one or more fish ponds, what an enormous amount of water might
be temporarily stored in these. It would seem that a positive step
of some value would have been taken to prevent the destructive floods,
to make more uniform the flow of streams, and thus to better naviga-
tion and to keep the soil waste upon the farm. " A fish pond for every
farm" might yet become the watch-word for every advocate of im-
proved navigation, flood prevention and soil conservation.

Some Practical Steps

It should not be presumed that a fad is proposed or that a simple
nostrum is advocated for the immediate accomplishment of nation-
wide benefits. Avenues of progress may be opened without calling for
a headlong plunge into them. The incline is upward and probably
beset with a common number of obstacles and pitfalls. On the one
hand, if fish conservation in public waters can be promoted by broader
and more positive efforts than are now generally made, it is necessary
that thought and investigation should be applied to distinguish with
certainty the ways that are right from the ways that are wrong. On
the other hand, if increase of fish through private enterprise is prac-
ticable and appropriate, the movement will be but faintly advanced
by the mere waving of a banner or a summons to the line. The im-
prudent are easily induced, but in the field of industry, the better re-
cruits are the wise who look for plans and specifications and consider
costs and possible returns.

There are many persons now seriously interested in fish rearing
and who want to start a fish pond, or, having one, to make it more
productive. They ask for information as to the fish and the conditions ;
but, at the best, the practical data that government or states can give

4 American poultry products alone are worth half a billion dollars a year:
report of Secretary of Agriculture, D. F. Houston, as quoted in the Review of
Reviews, March, 1915, p. 266. This figure is more than double that of the potato
crop, and approaches the estimate of value of the wheat crop. With the product
of 500 millions from domestic poultry, compare the few millions (about twelve)
credited to fresh-water fisheries, and based almost entirely upon wild fish.

WATER CONSERVATION 9 9

is meager as bearing upon the questions raised. Few efforts for public
service would be so apt and so inexpensive in proportion to probable
return as the systematic dissemination of information bearing upon
fish farming : but the data must be based upon judicious and continued
experiment under conditions such as would confront the prospective fish
farmers.

Doubtless a great deal of experience has been gained by private
persons with interest and initiative, but there has been lacking a clear-
ing house. There are valuable bits of information isolated or scat-
tered and wanting for complete fruitfulness the benefits of interchange
of experience, coordination and compilation. It would be practical
indeed if the persons interested in effective fishery development would
form themselves into associations, limited in territory by the similarity
of conditions and problems as well as by the requirements of distance.
The advantages to be gained would be palpable; there would be not
only a fruitful interchange of ideas and experience, but a more explicit
definition of difficulties and problems, so that the public department
whose responsibility is to serve would be enlightened as to the form of
service required.

The present purpose is fulfilled if the meaning of fish conservation
is made clearer, and if the science of fisheries has been related in an
unmistakable way to the vital interests of our whole people. The fish
conservationist should orient himself with reference to some of the'
multitudinous phases of human interests and endeavors, and it is
equally desirable that his orientation should be understood. One may-
look far over a landscape with the feet yet firmly upon the ground. A.
distant goal is not usually to be reached except by a succession of well-
ordered steps, but perhaps it is also true that the farther the vision
extends, the more readily may the steps be well ordered to the desired
end.

IOO

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

THE REPUBLIC OF LETTERS AND
OF SCIENCE

The importance of maintaining good
will between the scientific men and the
men of letters of the different nations
is so great that we are glad to have the
opportunity of printing here the re-
marks made by Professor Ileinrich
Morf at the opening of his winter
course at the University of Berlin. As-
translated for us by Miss Agatha
Schurz, Professor Morf said:

"On the morning of the first day of
August I closed these lectures on the
history of French literature. All hope
of preserving peace had not yet vanished
at that hour, and I belonged to the op-
timists. My optimism, however, was
put in the wrong by the course of
events, and w-e are now living in a state
Of war.

4 'The terrible conflict of arms is also
a, conflict of minds. Who could pride
liimself — if, indeed, it were a matter of
pride — on having preserved his perfect
composure! Even those who are not
directly involved in the strife of arms,
the neutrals, take sides spiritually and
morally. The whole world is divided
and torn into two great hostile camps.
The greater part of the Latin world is
our enemy. The intellectual bridges
which connect nations seem to have
been shattered, and across the yawning
abyss ugly and agitated words are fly-
ing back and forth. The worst civil
war is raging in the Republica littera-
rum, in the domains of science and art,
which at other times unite all man-
kind and make of them world-citizens
of a Civitas Dei.

"But of that civil war of the world
let us not speak here. We have met for
a labor of peace. The appeal which we
teachers of German universities sent
out into a world torn by war begins
with the words 'We professors at Ger-

many's universities serve science and
devote ourselves to a labor of peace.-
As soon as your teacher has ascended
this platform and has closed the door
of this lecture-room to the outer world,
we shall and must turn away our
thoughts for an hour from that which
day and night oppresses our hearts,
and we must compel our minds to con-
centrate on scientific work. The pas-
sions of the day must not enter here:
we will leave them behind us. Science
demands of us this act of self -discipline
and of self-control. Whoever does not
feel capable of it will not be able to
serve science or to enter into any close
relation to her; he will remain unsatis-
fied even in this lecture-hall devoted to •
her service.

"I should like to speak to you here
of the French culture of the past, just
as I have always done since I first took
upon myself, thirty-five years ago, this
task in Bern, on the borderland of the
French and German languages. At
that time I referred to Goethe, as I do
to-day; for he has taught us that, with
sympathetic interest for the culture of
the Latin peoples, may be combined a
deep love for the Teutonic, for our own.
For all these years I have spoken to
German youth of these Latin subjects
with a feeling born of respectful re-
gard for what is foreign to us, and of
love for what is our own. That they
appreciate what I have done they have
kindly proved to me, even in these
dreadful days, when friendly notes from
writers personally unknown to me have
reached me from the western front, ex-
pressing grateful remembrance of the
hours when they had here studied
French culture with me.

' ' The purely scientific character of
these lectures, therefore, will not be
changed. I should like, as heretofore,
to train your minds to a scientific mode

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

IOI

of thought, and to lead you to a dispas-
sionate historical conception and judg-
ment of things of the past of foreign
lands. Scientific work of this kind does
not separate, it unites; it teaches to
understand and to discern, not to des-
pise. While I am saying this to you,
the figure of my teacher, Gaston Paris,
appears before me. Those years of
study, those fellow-students, arise be-
fore my mind, with which are connected
indelible memories of distant days of
my youth and of recent happy inter-
course. You have often heard from me
the names of these collaborators and
investigators. I have often here ex-
pressed to you what our science owes
them, for what I myself am indebted
to them.

' ' Beyond the bloody struggle of the
present looms the dominating personal-
ity of Gaston Paris. Gratefully I sa-
lute his spirit from this place. I have
often acknowledged the deep decisive
influence he has exercised upon me; the
best that I can give you has been aroused
in me by him. Listen to the words
with which he, the man of thirty, re-
opened his lectures at the College de
France in December, 1870, in besieged
Paris, ' surrounded by the iron ring,
which the German armies have closed
about us. ' After a short reference to
the work of the last term and to the
students who had followed the call to
arms, and some of whom might be in
the hostile army of the besiegers, he
spoke of the scientific problems which
even in these anxious hours, 'when the
Fatherland claimed all our thoughts, '
still had a right to be considered.

I do not believe that, on the whole,
patriotism has anything to do with sci-
ence. The lecture-room is no political
platform. Whoever uses the lecture-
room to defend or to attack anvthing
that lies outside of its purely intellec-
tual province diverts it from its true
purpose. I advocate unconditionally
and without reservation the doctrine
that science must adopt as her only
aim the search of truth — truth for her
own sake, without troubling herself

whether this truth may, if put into
practise, have good or evil, regrettable
or gratifying consequences. Whoever
indulges in the slightest concealment,
the most trifling change in the presen-
tation of those facts which are objects
of his research, or in the deductions
which he draws therefrom — though led
by patriotic, religious or even moral
considerations — is not worthy of a place
in the great laboratory to which honesty
is a much more indispensable title than
skill or cleverness.

If the studies pursued in common are
so conceive ° and are carried on in this
spirit in all civilized countries, then
they will constitute a great Fatherland,
high above all barriers of hostile nation-
alities, undefiled by war, unmenaced by
conquerors, in which minds can find t
refuge and union which the Civitas Dei
offered them in other davs.

' ' Thus a young French scientist, who
was at the same time an ardent patriot,
spoke to his hearers on December 8,
2870. I do not know if patriotism in
Paris has found similar expression to-
day. Time will show. But I wish to
remind you to-day of the words of this
strong and noble man, who combined in
wonderful harmony loyalty to the soil
and citizenship of the world — love of
his country and love of truth.- May his
words not have been spoken in vain!

' ' The German student of Eomance
subjects finds the fields of his labors to
a great extent covered with ruins. The
blossoms which had promised fruit have
been blighted. The fruit which seemed
already garnered is destroyed. New
life will surely blossom from these
ruins, for nature wills it so, for the
salvation of mankind. Wherever the
ground is strewn with wreckage we shall
again draw furrows and scatter seed,
and those who come after us will gather
the harvest. And Teutons and Latins
will enjoy it in common. Without this
faith in the power and the perpetuity
of the Civitas Dei of science, I should
not stand before you to-day as your
teacher of Eomance philology, and your
guide through French literature of the
eighteenth century, which domain we
expect to explore during this winter
term quietly and with steadfast pur-
pose. ' '

102

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

PROFESSOR ONNES AND TEE

LEIDEN LABORATORY OF

PHYSICS

The Franklin Institute has made the
first awards of its Franklin medal, es-
tablished last year by a gift from Mr.
Samuel Insul, to Mr. Thomas Alva
Edison and to Professor Heike Kamer-
lingh Onnes. Mr. Edison 's great con-
tributions to the applications of science
are known to us all. It may be of in-
terest to give some statement of the
work of Professor Onnes and the
Leiden Laboratory, taken from the re-
port of the institute. At the present
time it is well to remember the im-
portant contributions made to science
by the smaller nations. It is certainly
a remarkable fact that Holland should
have more physicists of high distinc-
tion than the United States.

Heike Kamerlingh Onnes was born
on September 21, 1853, at Groningen,
Holland, where his father was engaged
in manufacture. He was educated in
the schools of his native town, and
there also he began his university stud-
ies in 1870. Two years later he re-
moved to Heidelberg, where he spent
three semesters, working under the di-
rection of Bunsen and Kirchoff. He
then returned to Groningen, and a few
years after he became assistant to Pro-
fessor Bosscha at Delft, where he com-
menced work upon his thesis for the doc-
torate. In 1882 he and H. A. Lorentz
were appointed professors of physics in
the University of Leiden, then a little
known and quite unpretentious seat of
learning (so far as physical science was
concerned), but which, as a result of
the collaboration of these two highly-
gifted young physicists, has become one
of the world's great centers of physical
research.

While Lorentz confined his energies
mostly to the fields of theoretical and
mathematical physics, Onnes directed
his energies to the creation of a labora-
tory for experimental research. In
spite of great obstacles, particularly of
very inadequate appropriations for
equipment and maintenance, the inde-

fatigable director found ways and
means of furnishing his laboratory with
the special machinery and precision in-
struments required for the researches
of the professors and their students. A
very important — in fact, an essential —
factor in this development was the es-

1 tablishment by Onnes of a training
school for mechanicians, and it was in
the shops of this school that many of
the special instruments for the labora-
tory weie constructed. At the same
time the young men engaged there were
trained to assist the director in carry-
ing out the often difficult and intricate
operations in his experimental work.
On various occasions Professor Onnes
was thus enabled to command a force
of some thirty assistants, to each of
whom a special duty was assigned.

The work of this great laboratory at
Leiden is recorded in the Leiden Com-
iii mi iea lions, published since 1891, and
includes a vast number of most impor-
tant contributions to physical science.
Among them are investigations on
magneto-electric effects, as well as a
series of most important papers upon
magneto-optical phenomena, such as the
classical one by Zeeman, describing the
discovery of what is now known as the
Zeeman-effect. But, while these early
investigations were all carried out under
Onnes's direction, they were in many
cases inspired or suggested by his dis-
tinguished colleague, H. A. Lorentz.
The really representative work of the

| laboratory has been in the field of mo-

t lecular physics, and particularly in re-
search at low temperature. The great

| bulk of the Leiden Communications is
devoted to the records of those remark-

I able series of researches which were
conceived by Onnes himself and carried

! out under his direction.

The history of these researches began
with the creation of the cryogenic lab-

i oratory, and it may be divided into sev-
eral distinct stages or periods. The

| first of these was occupied with the pro-

| duction of liquid oxygen on a large
scale, and with the use of this material
in a three-cycle process of obtaining

Ill Jilt St It III 0 1) til

nul.

isy courtesy of The Ann
August Wbismann

The distinguished zoologist, late professor in the University of Freiburg, known
especially for his contributions to the theory of heredity.

104

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

low temperatures, by which Ormes was
enabled to maintain and control the
temperature ranges from — 23° to

— 90° (methyl chloride), from — 105°
to —165° (ethylene), and —183° to

— 217° (oxygen). This goal may be
said to have been attained about 1894.
The second stage was characterized by
the introduction of liquid hydrogen and
the production of temperatures below

— 217°. The abnormal behavior of hy-
drogen gas when it is allowed to ex-
pand under reduced pressures made it
impossible to liquefy it at higher tem-
peratures; and the condensation of this
gas was first achieved by Dewar, of
London, on May 10, 1898. This added
a new range of available low tempera-
tures from — 253° to — 250° in which
Dewar made a number of highly re-
markable observations, including the
solidification of hydrogen. But Onnes
very promptly appropriated this new
range for his research work, and con-
structed novel and very efficient appa-
ratus for the production and utilization
of the new refrigerant.

The Netherlands government, realiz-
ing the importance of the work, now
granted considerable appropriations for
the extension and equipment of the lab-
oratory, and with its completion a new
era of constantly increasing low tem-
perature research began. New methods
and instruments for the exact measure-
ment of temperatures below the boil-
ing-point of liquid hydrogen were de-
vised, and the behavior of mixtures of
hydrogen and helium was systematically
investigated. Finally, the apparently
incoereible gas, helium, was reduced to
the liquid state. This crowning tri-
umph of low temperature research
was achieved on July 10, 1908. This
achievement aroused universal interest
in the work of Onnes and doubtless
j>rompted the award to him, in 1913, of
the Nobel Prize in Physics.

During the past few years Onnes has
made some most remarkable discoveries
with reference to the electrical resist-
ance of certain metals at temperatures

zero of temperature. The resistance of
metals ordinarily varies approximately
with the absolute temperature, but at
temperatures only a few degrees above
the absolute zero it suddenly becomes so
small that it can hardly be measured.
For mercury this "critical tempera-
ture" is 4.2° absolute; for lead it is
6.1°, and for tin 3.8°. Below these
temperatures the resistance is prac-
tically nil, and Onnes terms this the
"supraconductive " state. In this state
the metals no longer obey Ohm 's law —
there is neither a potential drop nor a
production of heat.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS

We record with regret the deaths of
Joseph Johnston Hardy, professor of
mathematics and astronomy at La-
fayette College; of Dr. Samuel Bald-
win Ward, since 1884 dean of the Al-
bany Medical College and professor of
the theory and practise of medicine,
and of James Blaine Miller, of the
Coast and Geodetic Survey, a passenger
on the Lusiianiii.

The Barnard gold medal awarded
every fifth year by Columbia Univer-
sity, on the recommendation of the Na-
tional Academy of Sciences, "to that
person who, within the five years next
preceding, made such discovery in phys-
ical or astronomical science, or such
novel application of science to purposes
beneficial to the human race, as may 1 e
deemed by the National Academy of
Sciences most worthy of the honor,"
will be given this year to William IT.
Bragg, D.Sc, F.R.S., Cavendish pro-
fessor of physics in the University of
Leeds, and to his son, W. L. Bragg, of
the University of Cambridge, for their
researches in molecular physics and in
the particular field of radio-activity.
The previous awards of the Barnard
medal have been made as follows :
1895 — Lord Rayleigh and Professor
William Ramsay; 1900 — Professor Wil-
helm Conrad von Ri'mtgen ; 1905 — Pro-
fessor Henri Becquerel; 1910— Pro-

only a few degrees above the absolute fessor Ernest Rutherford.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY

AUGUST, 1915

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER AND THE EVOLUTION

OF THE ELEMENTS1

By Professor Sir ERNEST RUTHERFORD, P.R.S.

UNIVERSITY OF MANCHESTER

SPECULATIONS as to the constitution of matter have occupied an
important place in the development of scientific knowledge. The
idea that all matter was composed of minute particles called atoms was
put forward long ago by the Greek philosophers, and was advanced
again with varying degrees of confidence by philosophic men at the
dawn of the scientific age. For example, Newton suggested that mat-
ter was composed of atoms which were likened to "hard massy balls/'
while Robert Boyle regarded a gas to consist of atoms which were in
brisk motion. The first definite formulation of the atomic theory as a
scientific hypothesis was given by Dalton of Manchester in 1803 in
order to explain the combination of atoms in multiple proportion. The
necessity of distinguishing between the chemical atom and the chemical
molecule was soon recognized, while the famous hypothesis of Avogadro
that equal volumes of all gases at the same temperature and pressure
contain equal numbers of molecules still further extended the useful-
ness of the theory. The whole superstructure of modern chemistry has
been largely reared on the foundations of the atomic theory. The
labors of the chemist have revealed to us the presence of more than
eighty distinct types of elements, each of which has a characteristic
atomic weight, and in most cases sufficiently distinct physical and
chemical properties to allow of its separation from any other element by
the application of suitable methods.

It has been generally assumed that all the atoms of one element are
identical in shape and weight, and until a few years ago were supposed
to be permanent and indestructible. The close study of the variation
of chemical properties of the elements with atomic weight led Frank-
land and Mendelief to put forward the famous " periodic law," in which
it was shown that there was a periodic variation in the chemical proper-

i First course of lectures on the William Ellery Hale Foundation, National
Academy of Sciences, delivered at the Washington Meeting, April, 1914.

vol lxxxvii.— 8.

106 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ties of elements when arranged in order of increasing atomic weight.
This empirical generalization has exercised a wide influence on the
development of chemistry, and the periodic law has been considered by
many to indicate that all the atoms are composed of some elementary
substance or protyle. It is only within the last few years that our
knowledge of atoms has reached a stage to offer a reasonable explana-
tion of this remarkable periodicity.

Time does not allow me to more than refer in passing to the im-
portant contributions of Le Bel and van' t Hoff to the structure of
complex molecules, and the arrangements of the atoms in space, which
has exercised such a wide and important influence on the development
of organic chemistry.

While the chemist was busy disentangling the elements, determin-
ing their relative atomic weights and studying their possible combina-
tions, the physicist had not been idle. The idea that a gas consisted
of a large number of molecules in swift but irregular movement had
been tentatively advanced at various times to explain some of the prop-
erties of gases. These conceptions were independently revived and
developed in great detail by the genius of Clausius and Clerk Maxwell
about the middle of the last century. On their theory, now known as
the kinetic or djmamical theory of gases, the molecules of a gas are
supposed to be in continuous agitation, colliding with each other and
with the walls of the containing vessel. Their velocity of agitation
is supposed to increase with temperature, and the pressure is due to
the impact of the molecules of the gas on the walls of the enclosure.
This theory was found to explain in a simple and obvious way the fun-
damental properties of gases, and has proved of great importance in
molecular theory. The idea that atoms must be in brisk and turbulent
motion is strongly supported by the well-known property of the inter-
diffusion of gases and also of liquids, and in recent years has received
practically a direct and concrete proof from the study of a very inter-
esting phenomenon included under the name " Brownian Motion."
The English botanist, Brown, in 1827 discovered that small vegetable
spores immersed in a liquid appeared to be in continuous motion when
viewed with a high power microscope. This motion of small particles
in liquids was at first supposed to be a result of temperature disturb-
ances, but at the close of the last century the Brownian movement was
shown to be a fundamental property of small particles in liquids. The
whole question has been investigated in recent years with great ability
and skill by Perrin. He examined in detail the state of equilibrium
and of motion of minute particles in suspension in liquids. The ex-
cursions due to the Brownian movements depend mainly on the size of
the particles, although influenced to some extent by the nature of the
liquid. Small spheres of the size required can be produced by a variety
of methods. One of the simplest used by Perrin is to allow a solution

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 107

of pure water to pour slowly out of a funnel under an alcoholic solution
of gamboge or mastic. An emulsion is formed where the layers meet
which consists of a great number of minute spheres. When these par-
ticles are viewed in a strong light with a high power microscope, they
all exhibit the characteristic Brownian movement, i. e., the particles
dart to and fro in irregular and tumultuous fashion, and never appear
to be at rest for more than a moment. The motions of these small
particles under a microscope irresistibly convey the impression that
they are hurled to and fro by the action of mysterious forces resident in
the solution. Such a result is to be anticipated if the molecules of
the liquid are themselves in rapid though invisible tumultuous motion
of the kind outlined on the kinetic theory. The particle is very large
compared with the molecule, and it is bombarded on all sides by great
numbers of molecules. Occasionally the pressure due to the bombard-
ment is for a moment greater on one side of the particle than on the
other, and the particle is urged forward, until a new distribution of
impacts hurls it in another direction. In fact, the movement of these
particles has been found to conform exactly with that predicted by the
molecular theory.

It would take too long to discuss the remarkable conclusions that
Perrin has reached from a study of the distribution and motion of small
particles. The particle which may be an agglomeration of many mil-
lions of molecules, behaves in many respects like the much smaller
molecule. A great number of particles in a liquid do not distribute
themselves uniformly under gravity, but the numbers decrease with
height according to the same law as the gases in our atmosphere.

On the kinetic theory, we thus have strong evidence for believing
that the atoms of matter, whether in the solid, liquid or gaseous form,
are in continuous agitation and irregular motion. The velocity of
agitation decreases with lowering of temperature, and at the lowest at-
tainable temperature the motion has either ceased or become very small.
It is well known that under suitable conditions, the same type of
matter can exist in three distinct forms, solid, liquid and gas. If we
take the ordinary air of the room, it can be turned into a clear liquid
under certain conditions of temperature and pressure, and this liquid
can be frozen solid by still further lowering of the temperature. The
most refractory gas of all, helium, has only recently been shown to
conform with the behavior of all other gases, and to pass into a liquid
at a temperature only a few degrees removed from absolute zero. The
remarkable changes in appearance and plrysical qualities of an element
in passing from one state to another is a matter of common knowledge —
but it is not for that reason very easy of explanation. These changes
are believed to be connected with the average distance which separates
one atom or molecule from the other and their rapidity of motion. In
the gas or vapor form, the molecules are, on an average, so far apart

io8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

that their mutual attractions are relatively unimportant. With lower-
ing of temperature, the distance and rapidity of motion of the mole-
cules diminish until under certain conditions, the attraction of the
molecules for one another predominates, resulting in a much closer
packing, and the appearance of the liquid form. The molecules, how-
ever, still retain a certain freedom of motion, but this is diminished
with lowering of the temperature until at a certain stage the molecules
form a tighter grouping, corresponding to the solid state where the
freedom of motion of the individual molecules is much restricted. In
order to account for the resistance of solids to compression or exten-
sion, it has been supposed that the force between molecules is attractive
at large distances but repulsive at small distances. While we are able
to offer a general explanation of the passage of an element from one
state to another, a complete explanation of such phenomena will only
be possible when we know the detailed structure of the atoms and the
nature and magnitude of the forces between them.

While the kinetic theory of gases has proved very successful in ex-
plaining the fundamental properties of gases, its strength, and at the
same time its weakness, lies in the fact that in most cases it is un-
necessary for the explanation to know anything of the structure of the
atom or molecule, or of the forces between them. In some investiga-
tions, in order to explain some of the more recondite properties of gases,
assumptions have been made of definite laws of force between the
molecules, but no very definite or certain results have so far been
achieved in this direction. It should, however, be pointed out that the
kinetic theory afforded us for the first time with a satisfactory method
of estimating approximately the dimensions of molecules and the actual
number in a given weight of matter. As the recent development of
science has provided us with more certain methods of estimation of
these important quantities, we shall not enter further into the question
at present.

Crystals

There is another very striking form that matter sometimes assumes,
which has always attracted much attention and which has recently
emerged into much prominence. It is well known that the majority
of substances under suitable conditions form crystals of definite geo-
metrical form, which is characteristic of the particular atoms or groups
of atoms. The great variety of crystal forms that are known have
all been classified as belonging to one or more of the 230 forms of point
symmetry which are theoretically possible. While considerations of
symmetry are a sufficient guide to the classification of crystals, they
offer no explanation of the definite architecture of the crystal nor of
the nature of the forces that cause the atoms or molecules to arrange
themselves in such definite geometric patterns. We are inevitably led

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER

109

to the conclusion that the atoms of the crystal are arranged according
to a definite system, which is characteristic of the particular crystalline
form, and the unit of structure is repeated indefinitely with continued
growth of the crystal. In fact, if we had no other evidence, the crys-
talline form of matter would itself point to the necessity of an atomic
structure of matter. While many attempts have been made to explain
the grouping of the atoms in a crystal, there has been on the whole
little success with the exception, possibly, of Pope and Barlow's theory
that the atoms take up the positions of closest packing, the dimensions
assigned to the atom depending on a quantity connected with its chem-
ical valency. It is only within the last year that a new and powerful
method of attack of this problem has been developed, largely through
the experiments of Professor Bragg and his son, W. L. Bragg. On ac-
count of the definite ordering of the atoms in a crystal, it acts like an
almost perfect optical grating, only in three dimensions, where the
grating space is exceedingly small — in most cases about one hundred
millionth of a centimeter. Laue showed that when Rontgen rays
passed through a crystal, definite interference patterns were observed.
This result was of great importance, as it showed that Rontgen rays
must consist of very short transverse waves akin to those of light.
Bragg showed that the reflection, or rather diffraction, of Rontgen rays
incident on the face of a crystal, afforded a very simple method of de-
termining the wave length of the bright lines generally present in an
X-ray spectrum. By a study of the position and intensity of the spectra

Fig. 1.

Arrangement of Atoms in a Rock Salt (NaCl) Crystal, White Circles

REPRESENT SODIUM ATOMS, BLACK CHLORINE.

in different orders thrown by the crystal, it was possible to examine
in detail the structure of the crystal, and to deduce the grating space,
i. e., the distance between successive planes of atoms. The subject is
so large and the discovery of this method so recent, that so far only
a few of the typical crystals have been examined, but in these cases we
are able to obtain most positive evidence of the grouping of the atoms
in the crystal. The results indicate that the atom and not the mole-

no

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

cule is the unit of the crystal structure. Consider the structure of the
simple cubic crystal of rock salt (sodium chloride). The structure
of the crystal deduced by Bragg is shown in Fig. 1. The sodium atoms
are marked by black spheres, the chlorine atoms by white spheres. The
simplicity of the crystal architecture is obvious, for all the atoms are
equi-distant. The structure of the diamond is more complicated but
it is one of great interest, for all the atoms in these cases are of one
kind, carbon. The structure found by Bragg is seen in Fig. 2 A.

Fig. 2a. Arrangement of Carbon Atoms in a Diamond.

The atoms are all equi-distant, but the general arrangement differs
markedly from that of rock salt. It is seen that each carbon atom is
linked with four neighbors in a perfectly symmetrical way, while the
linking of six carbon atoms in a ring is also obvious from the figure.
The distance between the planes containing atoms is seen to alternate in
the ratio 1 : 3. This variation of the grating space is brought out clearly

Fig. 2b. Cubical, Arrangement of Carbon Atoms in a Diamond.

from the study of the spectra, and is an essential feature of the struc-
ture of the diamond. The cubical arrangement is shown by turning
the model so that the lines joining the atoms are vertical and hori-
zontal (see Fig. 2B).

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER in

Now that we have a method of determining the arrangement and
distances apart of the atoms in a crystal, the next step will be to
examine the intensity and type of forces which are brought into play
to keep the atoms in equilibrium and relatively fixed in their places.
It is to be expected that the atoms are able to move to and fro about
their position of equilibrium, and this is indicated by the effect of
lowering the temperature of the crystal; for the intensity of the dif-
fraction spectra increases as the amplitude of motion of the atom
diminishes. The sharpness of the diffraction spectra suggests that the
atoms are not only arranged at definite distances from one another
but that each atom is orientated in a definite position with regard to
its neighbor.

While varieties of crystals are kDown of all degrees of hardness, the
work of Lehmann has brought to light the unexpected existence of
crystalline arrangement in some liquids. These liquid crystals are best
shown in certain complex organic substances at a temperature slightly
above their melting point, and they are only observable in the liquid
by the patterns and colors developed when polarized light passes through
them. These crystals are mobile like a drop of oil in a solution and
can be squeezed into a variety of patterns. Such results would indicate
that the molecules of the liquid have a tendency to arrange themselves in
ordered patterns, although it is difficult to understand how the freedom
of relative motion that is supposed to characterize a liquid can con-
temporaneously exist with an ordered arrangement of some of the con-
stituent molecules.

Light Spectra

We will now direct our attention to another type of phenomenon
which ultimately promises to throw much light on the detailed structure
of the atom. When the light from an incandescent vapor or gas is
passed through a prism or reflected from a grating, it is resolved and
gives a characteristic spectrum consisting of a number of bright lines.
By suitable methods, the wave-length of these radiations can be deter-
mined with great accuracy. -Each of these lines represents a definite
and characteristic mode of vibration of the atom, and from the exceed-
ing complexity of the spectra of many of the heavy elements, we are
forced to conclude that an atom can vibrate in a great variety of ways.
When the meaning of the dark lines in the solar spectrum was correctly
interpreted, we were enabled at one stride to extend our methods of ob-
servation to the sun and the furthest fixed stars. It was soon recognized
that atoms of the same element always vibrated the same way under all
conditions. It was found, for example, that hydrogen atoms in the
earth vibrated in exactly the same way as the same atoms in a distant
star. The important bearing of this result on the structure of atoms
was pointed out by Clerk Maxwell in his well-known address on ee Atoms

H2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

and Molecules" before the British Association at Bradford in 1873,
from which it is interesting to quote the following.

In the heavens we discover by their light, and by their light alone, stars
so distant from each other that no material thing can ever have passed from
one to another; and yet this light, which is to us, the sole evidence of the
existence of these distant worlds, tells us also that each of them is built up
of molecules of the same kinds as those which we find on earth. A molecule of
hydrogen, for example, whether in Sirius or in Arcturus, executes its vibrations
in precisely the same time.

Each molecule1 therefore throughout the universe bears impressed upon it
the stamp of a metric system as distinctly as does the metre of the Archives at
Paris, or the double royal cubit of the temple of Karnac.

No theory of evolution can be formed to account for the similarity of
molecules, for evolution necessarily implies continuous change, and the molecule
is incapable of growth or decay, of generation or destruction.

None of the processes of nature, since the time when nature began, have
produced the slightest difference in the properties of any molecule. We are
therefore unable to ascribe either the existence of the molecules or the identity
of their properties to any of the causes which we call natural.

On the other hand, the exact equality of each molecule to all others of the
same kind gives it, as Sir John Herschel has well said, the essential character
of a manufactured article, and precludes the idea of its being eternal and self-
existent.

While there is no doubt that an atom of an element in the earth or
in a star vibrates in identical fashion under the same physical conditions,
it is now known that the frequency of vibration of an element is not
the exact constant that was at first supposed. It is altered to a slight
extent by motion of the source, by change of pressure, and by the appli-
cation of magnetic and electric fields. The apparent change of fre-
quency of vibration with the motion of the source relative to the ob-
server has proved an invaluable method for studying the motion of
stars in the line of sight, while the displacement of the lines of hydrogen
in the sun has in the hands of Professor Hale and his assistants proved
of great power in throwing light on some of the physical conditions
that exist in that distant body. It has been found that there is order
and system in the great complex of modes of vibration of an atom, and
that many of the lines can be arranged in definite series whose rates of
vibration are connected by simple and definite laws. It is only within
the last year or two that we have been able to form some idea of the
origin of these spectra and the meaning of a spectral series. The fact
that the lightest and presumably the simplest atom known, viz., hydro-
gen, gives a very complicated light spectrum was at first, and quite
naturally, believed to indicate that the hydrogen atom must be a very
complex structure. We shall see later, however, that the hydrogen
atom is believed to have an exceedingly simple structure, and that the
complexity of the spectrum is to be ascribed rather to a complexity in
the laws of radiation.

i Maxwell used the term "molecule" where we now use the term "atom."

TEE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 113

We have seen that' the study of the spectrum led Maxwell to con-
clude not only that the atoms were identical in weight and form but
that they were the only permanent and indestructible units in this
changing world. The apparent identity of the spectrum under all con-
ditions certainly strongly supported such a view at that time. It was
believed that if some of the atoms were changing, it would be shown by
a gradual alteration of their modes of vibration, i. e., of the spectrum.
It was left to the beginning of this century to show the fallacy in this
deduction, and to bring undoubted evidence that some elements at least
are undergoing spontaneous transformation with the appearance of
new types of matter giving a new and characteristic spectrum. This
question will be discussed later in some detail.

Electrons
Before, however, considering the bearing of radioactive phenomena
on the structure of the atom, I must refer to a discovery which has
exercised a most profound influence on the development of physics in
general and on our ideas of the structure of atoms. Sir William
Crookes long ago found that when an electric discharge was passed
through a vacuum tube at very low pressures, a peculiar type of radia-
tion appeared, known as the "cathode rays." This radiation appeared
to be projected from the cathode in straight lines, and, unlike light,
was deflected by a magnet. These rays excited strong phosphorescence
in many substances in which they fell, and also produced marked heat-
ing effects. Crookes concluded that the cathode rays consisted of a
stream of negatively charged particles moving at high speed. The gen-
eral properties of this radiation appeared so remarkable that Crookes
concluded that the material constituting the cathode stream corresponded
to a "new or fourth state of matter." After a controversy extending
over twenty years, the true nature of these rays was finally independent-
ly shown in 1897 by the experiments of Weichert and Sir J. J. Thom-
son. They proved, as Crookes had surmised, that the rays consisted
of a stream of negatively charged particles travelling with enormous
velocities from 10,000 to 100,000 miles a second, depending on the
potential applied to the vacuum tube. In addition, it was found that
the mass of the particle was exceedingly small, about 1/1800 of the mass
of the hydrogen atom — the lightest atom known to science. These re-
sults were soon confirmed and widely extended. These corpuscles, or
electrons, as they are now termed, were found to be liberated from
matter not only in an electric discharge but by a variety of other agen-
cies; for example, from a metal on which ultra-violet light falls, and
also in enormous numbers from an incandescent body. Eadium and
other radioactive substances were found to emit them spontaneously
at much greater speeds than those observed in a vacuum tube. It thus
appeared that the electrons must be a constituent of the atoms of mat-

ii4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ter and could be released from the atom by a variety of agencies. This
idea was much widened and strengthened by the investigations of Zee-
man and Lorentz, who showed that the radiation of light must be
mainly ascribed to the movements of electrons of the same small mass
within the atom.

It does not fall within the scope of my address to outline the very
important consequences that followed in many directions from this
fundamental discovery of the independent existence of the electron and
its connection with matter. It was found by Kaufmann that the mass
of the electron was not a constant but increased with its speed, and from
this result it was deduced that the electron was an atom of disembodied
or condensed electricity occupying an exceedingly small volume, whose
mass was entirely electrical in origin.

Unit op Electricity
I should mention here one important consequence that has followed
from these discoveries. From the laws which control the passage of
electricity in conducting solutions, Faraday recognized that there must
be a close connection between the atom of matter and its electrical
charge. Maxwell and Helmholtz suggested that the results were simply
explained by supposing that electricity was atomic in nature. This
conclusion is now definitely established, and the positive charge carried
by the hydrogen atoms in the electrolysis of water is believed to be the
fundamental unit of electrical charge. This charge is equal to and
opposite to the charge carried by the electron. Any charge of elec-
tricity, however small or large, must be expressed by an integral mul-
tiple of this fundamental unit of electricity. The actual value of this
unit charge has been measured by a great variety of methods and with
concordant results. One of the most detailed and accurate investiga-
tions of this important constant has been made by Professor Millikan,
of the University of Chicago.

Objections to the Atomic Theory
We have so far implicitly assumed that the great majority of scien-
tific men now regard the atomic theory not only as a working hypothe-
sis of great value but as affording a correct description of one stage of
the sub-division of matter. While this is undoubtedly the case to-day,
it is of interest to recall that less than twenty years ago there was a
revolt by a limited number of scientific men against the domination of
the atomic theory in chemistry. The followers of this school consid-
ered that the atomic theory should be regarded as a hypothesis, which
was of necessity unverifiable by direct experiment and should, there-
fore, not be employed as a basis of explanation of chemistry. This
point of view was much strengthened by the recognition of the power
of thermodynamics in affording a quantitative explanation of the

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 115

changes of energy in chemical reactions without the assumption of any
definite theory of the constitution of matter. This tendency advanced
so far that text-hooks of chemistry were written in which the word
atom or molecule was taboo, and chemistry was based instead on the
law of combination in multiple proportion. At that time, it did un-
doubtedly appear that there was little, if any, hope of finding a concrete
proof of the validity of the atomic hypothesis, or of detecting by its
effects a single atom of matter or a single electron, for it was known
that the smallest fragment of matter visible under a high power micro-
scope must still contain many millions, or even billions, of atoms.

The march of science has, however, been so rapid in this direction
that we have been able in recent years to show in a definite and con-
crete way the independent existence of atoms and also of electrons in
rapid motion.

Counting Atoms and Electrons

We shall first of all consider the method devised by Rutherford and
Geiger for detecting and recording the effects of single alpha particles from
radium. At this stage, it is unnecessary to enter into details of the
nature of the transformations occurring in radioactive matter. It
suffices to say here that the atoms of a radioactive substance are un-
stable and occasionally break up with explosive violence. In many
.cases, the explosion is accompanied by the ejection of a charged body,
called the alpha particle, with a velocity of about 10,000 miles a second.
These alpha particles are known from other investigations to consist of
charged atoms of the rare gas helium. The presence of these rays is
simply shown by the marked phosphorescence they set up in certain
substances. I have here a fine glass tube which was filled about a week
ago in Manchester with purified emanation released from about one
fifth of a gram of pure radium. In the interval of its journey across
the Atlantic, the activity of the emanation has decayed to about one
quarter of its original value. The glass walls of the tube are made so
thin — about 1/100 millimeter — that the alpha rays are able to escape
freely into the surrounding ^ir. They produce a small phosphor-
escence in the walls of the glass tube which is just visible in the dark-
ened room. On bringing near, however, a screen covered with zinc
sulphide, a brilliant phosphorescence is observed which increases in in-
tensity as we approach the tube. Similar effects are seen to be produced
in this crystal of willemite, while the crystal of kunzite is seen to be
translucent and emit a ruddy light. This phosphorescence of zinc sul-
phide and willemite is due mainly to the alpha rays, and from the
present emanation tube about 5,000,000,000 of these particles are pro-
jected each second.

In their passage through air or other gas, the alpha particles pro-
duce from the neutral molecules a large number of negatively charged

n6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

particles called ions. The ionization due to the alpha particles can be
readily measured by electrical methods, and it can be shown that the
effect to be expected from a single alpha particle is much too small to
detect except by very refined methods. In order to overcome this diffi-
culty, Eutherford and Geiger employed a method of magnifying auto-
matically several thousand times the electric effect due to an alpha

Fig. 3. Apparatus for Counting Alpha Particles.

particle. The general arrangement of the original apparatus is seen
in Fig. 3.

A few of the alpha rays from a radioactive substance passed along
an exhausted tube E through an opening D covered with thin mica into
the detecting tube AB. The latter contained a central insulated elec-
trode B connected with an electrometer, and the pressure of the gas
inside was adjusted to a few centimeters of mercury. The tube B was
connected with the negative pole of a battery of about 1,500 volts, the
other pole being earthen. The potential was adjusted so that a spark
was on the point of passing between A and B. Under such conditions,
the ionization due to an alpha particle passing along the detecting vessel
is magnified several thousand times by collision of the negative and
positive ions with the neutral molecules.

The entrance of an alpha particle into the detecting vessel is then
signified by a sudden ballistic throw of the electrometer needle, and
the number of particles entering the vessel in a given time can be
counted by observing the throws. The amount of active matter and
its distance from the opening were adjusted so that three to five alpha
particles entered the opening per minute. The following table illus-
trates the results obtained:

Magnitude of Successive
Number of Throws Throws, Scale Divisions
1st minute 4 11,12,10,11

2d minute 3 10,11,8

3d minute 5 10,9,13,8,12

4thminute 4 18*, 8, 12

5th minute 3 10, 6, 10

6th minute 4 9,10,12,11

7th minute 2 10,11

8th minute 3 11,13,8

9th minute 4 8,20

10th minute 3 8,12,14,6

Average per minute, 3.5. Average throw, 10 divisions.

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 117

It will be seen that the number of throws varies from minute to
minute. This is to be expected since the chance of an alpha particle
entering the opening is governed by the ordinary laws of probability.
It will be seen that two throws, marked by asterisks, are much larger
than the others. These were due to the passage of two alpha particles
through the opening within a short interval. This was readily seen
from the motion of the spot of light reflected from the electrometer
needle. As the needle was moving slowly near the end of its swing
caused by one alpha particle, a second impulse due to the entrance of
another was communicated to it.

By this method, the number of alpha particles expelled from one
gram of radium per second was determined. Of course only a minute
fraction of the alpha particles was actually counted, but the total num-
ber was deduced on the assumption, verified by experiment, that the
alpha particles on an average were expelled equally in all directions.
In this way, one gram of radium in equilibrium was found to expel the
enormous number of 1.36 X 1011 alpha particles each second.

Another interesting result followed from these experiments. It
has long been known that the alpha particles produce a marked phos-
phorescence in crystalline zinc sulphide. When examined by a lens,
the light is found not to be uniform but exhibits a very beautiful
scintillating effect. By counting the number of scintillations due to
the alpha particles, it was found that each scintillation was produced
by the impact of a single alpha particle. It is thus seen that two
distinct methods, one electrical and the other optical, are available for
detecting and counting single alpha particles, i. e., single atoms of
matter. This is only possible because the atoms are in swift motion
and expend their great energy of motion in ionizing the gas or in
producing luminosity in zinc sulphide.

Still another simple method was devised later. Kinoshita first
showed that a single alpha particle produced a detectable effect on a
photographic plate which was observable under a microscope. A num-
ber of experiments have been made by Eeinganum, Makower, and
Kinoshita to examine the effect of single alpha particles on a photo-
graphic plate. If a fine needle point coated with a trace of radio-
active matter rests on the surface of the film, the plate on develop-
ment shows a number of distinct trails radiating from the active point.
Each of these trails results from the action of a single alpha particle.
A beautiful photograph of this kind (magnification about 300) ob-
tained by Kinoshita is shown in Fig. 4. It appears that each alpha
particle makes a certain number of the grains, through which it passes,
capable of development.

The use of an ordinary electrometer is not very suitable for counting
alpha particles by the electric method, since the time of swing of the
electrometer needle is fairly long, and accurate counting can be made

n8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

when only a few alpha particles enter the detecting vessel per minute.
This difficulty can be got over by the use of a string electrometer in

•• *>• ..

•* fr • -i * . • v «•-..•■•• * *t * • .

\ ..

Fig. 4. Photographic Effect due to Alpha Particles from a Central Point.

which the moving system consists of a fine silvered quartz fiber sus-
pended between two charged parallel plates and viewed with a high-
power microscope. The entrance of an alpha particle is shown by a
sudden movement of the fiber, and if the current is allowed to leak away
through a suitable resistance, the fiber returns to the position of rest in
a small fraction of a second. The movement of the fiber can be re-

^AJ^JQU^

Fig. 5. Photographic Record on String Electrometer of Entrance of Alpha
Particles into the Detecting Vessel.

corded photographically on a moving film, and it is possible in this
way to count accurately the number of particles, even if several thou-
sand enter the detecting vessel per minute.

Examples of such photographic records, obtained by Eutherford
and Geiger, are shown in Fig. 5. The vertical movements of the fiber
from the horizontal line are due to the entrance of alpha particles, and
it is seen how clearly the detailed movements of the fiber are registered.
In some cases, one alpha particle follows another so rapidly that the

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER

119

fiber has not time to come to rest in between, and this is shown by the
saw-like appearance of some of the peaks in the photograph. It will
be noticed also that while the heights of most of the deflections are
nearly the same, in a few cases the deflections are nearly twice as great
as the normal. This is due to the nearly simultaneous entrance of two
alpha particles into the vessel. Although the photographic film moved
at a constant rate, it is seen that the throws due to the alpha particles
are distributed very irregularly along it. A close examination of such
records shows that variations of this kind are in accord with the ordinary
laws of probability.

During this year, Dr. Geiger has found a still more sensitive de-
tector for counting alpha particles. The arrangement, which is very
simple, is shown in Fig. 6. A fine sharply pointed needle ends about

^ £iccri(on£.r£K.

£akth

Fig. 6. Geiger's Detector of Individual Alpha and Beta . Particles.

one centimeter from the opening 0, where the alpha particles enter.
If the outer brass tube be charged positively to about 1,000 volts, and
the needle connected with a string electrometer, it is found that the
entrance of an alpha particle produces a very great deflection of the
fiber. So sensitive is this method, that Geiger has found that indi-
vidual beta particles can easily be detected and counted by its aid.
This is very remarkable when it is remembered that the ionization effect

•.u.w.OwL^^w-u\_

Fig. 7.

Record with String Electrometer, Upper Record for Beta Particles.
Lower for Alpha Particles.

due to a beta particle is on the average not more than 1/100 of that
due to an alpha particle.

A photographic record of the entrance of beta particles into the
detecting vessel is shown in Fig. 7. The upper record is for beta par-

120 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tides and the lower for alpha particles. I am indebted to Dr. Geiger
for this photograph. It is seen that the effect of a beta particle is
just as marked and as definite as for an alpha particle with the old
form of detector. We are thus in a position not only to count single
atoms of matter but also to detect the presence of a single electron in
swift motion, although the mass of the latter is exceedingly small com-
pared with that of the lightest atom.

I would now very briefly direct your attention to some results, which
to my mind not only completely prove the hypothesis of the atomic
structure of matter but allow us at once to calculate the number of
atoms in a given weight of matter with the minimum amount of as-
sumption. We have seen that by direct counting it has been found
that 1.36 X 1011 alpha particles are expelled per second from one gram
of radium in equilibrium with its rapidly changing products. Now it
has been definitely shown, by methods I need not discuss here, that each
alpha particle consists of a helium atom carrying two unit positive
charges. Since the alpha particle, when it has lost its charge, becomes
a neutral helium atom, we should expect to find that helium would be
produced by radium at a definite rate. This is found to be the case,
and it is not difficult to determine by actual measurement the volume
of helium formed by a known quantity of radium in a given time. It
has been found that one gram of radium in equilibrium produces each
year 156 cubic millimeters of helium at standard pressure and tempera-
ture. Now the number of alpha particles expelled per year per gram
is 4.29 X 1018, giving rise to 156 cubic millimeters of helium ; each of
these alpha particles is an atom of helium, and consequently the num-
ber of atoms of helium in one cubic centimeter of that gas at normal
pressure and temperature is 2.75 X 1019.

It appears to me that no more direct and convincing proof could
be obtained of the atomic structure of matter or of the number of
atoms forming a given weight or volume of helium ; for the number of
separate constituents are counted and the volume of the resulting gas is
measured. The value so obtained is in good accord with measurements
based on entirely different data of various kinds.

It is somewhat remarkable that while the study of radioactive phe-
nomena has clearly indicated that the atom is not always permanent
and indestructible, it has at the same time supplied the most convinc-
ing proof of the actual reality of atoms, and has provided some of the
most direct methods of determining the values of atomic magnitudes.

Tracks of Swift Atoms and Electrons

We have seen how it is possible to detect single alpha and beta
particles and to count their number. We will next consider a most
remarkable experimental method not only for detecting such particles
but of following in detail the effects produced by them in their passage

TEE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER

121

through a gas. C. T. E. Wilson showed many years ago that the
positively and negatively charged ions produced in a gas by the passage
of alpha and beta and X rays possessed a remarkable property. When
air, for example, saturated with water vapor is suddenly expanded, the
air is rapidly cooled and the water tends to deposit on any nuclei
present. C. T. R. Wilson showed that in dust-free air, the ions pro-
duced by external radiations become nuclei for the condensation of water
upon them when the cooling by expansion was sufficiently great. Under
such conditions, each ion becomes the center of a visible globule of
water, and the number of drops formed is equal to the number of
ions present.

C. T. R. Wilson later perfected this method to show the trail of a
single alpha or beta particle in passing through the gas ; for each of the

Fig. 8. Tracks of Alpha Particles from Central Points (C. T. R. Wilson's

Method).

ions produced by the flying particle becomes a visible drop of water by
the sudden expansion. By suitable arrangements, the trails of the
individual particle can be photographed, and the pictures obtained show
with remarkable fidelity and detail the ionizing effects produced in the
passage of alpha and beta particles or X rays through gases.

Fig. 8 shows the tracks of the alpha particles shot out from a small
fragment of radium. The number of ions produced per centimeter
in the gas by the alpha particle is so great that the trail of drops shows
as a continuous line. The alpha particles are seen to radiate in
straight lines from the active point, and have a definite range in
air — a characteristic property discovered by Bragg many years ago.
The next photograph (Fig. 9) shows a magnified image of these trails.
It is seen that the tracks are generally quite straight, but in a few
cases there is a sudden bend near the end. The significance and causes
of these sudden deviations in the rectilinear paths of the alpha par-
ticles will be discussed later.

VOL. LXXXVTI. — 9.

122

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

A radioactive substance like radium emits not only alpha particles
but beta particles which are electrons in very swift motion. These
beta particles are generally far more penetrating than the alpha rays,
but produce a much smaller number of ions per centimeter of their path

Fig. 9. Magnified Track of Alpha Particles (Wilson).

through a gas. In Fig. 10 is seen the track of a swift beta particle
crossing the expansion chamber. It will be observed that the path is
not straight but tortuous, due to the marked scattering of the particle
by collisions with the atoms of matter in its path. Although the trail

Fig. 10. Tracks of Beta Particles.

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 123

is clearly defined, the density corresponding to the number of drops
per centimeter is much smaller than for the alpha particle. In fact
by magnifying still further small portions of the track, the individual
ions, or rather the drop formed round each ion produced by the beta
particle, are clearly visible. In this way, it is obviously possible to
count directly the number of ions produced in any length of the path.

These beautiful photographs thus not only bring out clearly that
alpha and beta particles are definite entities but show with great per-
fection the actual path of the particles in traversing matter. The
next photograph (Fig. 11) shows the effect of passing a pencil of

Fig. 11. Beta Particles produced by Passage of X-rays through Air (Wilson).

Eontgen rays through the expansion chamber. It is believed that these
rays do not ionize the gas directly but indirectly through the slow-
speed electrons which are liberated by some of the atoms acted on by
the radiation. These electrons are not nearly so swift as some of those
emitted by radium, for they are only able to transverse a few millimeters
of air before being stopped. "The photograph brings out clearly these
effects, and shows the tortuous path of a beta particle resulting from
collisions with the atoms. Such scattering effects become more marked
the slower the velocity of ejection of the beta particle.

Transformation of Matter
While the discovery of the independent existence of the electron as a
constituent of the structure of atoms gave a great impetus to the study
of atomic structure, it was soon found that the removal or addition of
an electron from an atom did not appear to cause a permanent trans-
formation of the atom ; for no evidence has yet been obtained that the
passage of an electric current through a gas or metal is accompanied

124

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

by a permanent alteration of the atoms of matter through which the
current passes, although there is little doubt the current is carried in
part at least by the electrons liberated from the atoms.

The first definite evidence of the transformation of matter was
obtained from a study of the processes occurring in radioactive sub-
stances. The writer and Mr. Soddy in 1903 put forward the theory
that the radiations from active matter accompanied a veritable trans-
formation of the atoms themselves. The correctness of this theory as an
explanation of radioactive phenomena is now generally accepted. As
an illustration of these processes, consider the transformation of the
radioactive element uranium. The series of substances which arise from
the transformation of uranium are shown clearly in the diagram (Fig.
12). The best known of these elements is radium, which will be

Fig. 12. Successive Substances produced by the Transformation of the

Uranium Atom.

taken as a typical example of a radioactive substance. Radium differs
from an ordinary element in its power of spontaneously expelling alpha
particles with very great speed. This property is ascribed to an in-
herent instability which is not manifest in the atoms of ordinary ele-
ments. A small fraction of the radium atoms — about one in 100,000
million — break up each second with explosive violence expelling a frag-
ment of the atom — the alpha particle — with very great speed. The
residue of the atom is lighter than before and becomes the atom of an
entirely new substance, which is called the radium emanation. The
atoms of the latter are far more unstable than those of radium, for half
of them break up in 3.85 days, while half of the radium atoms break up
in about 2,000 years. After the loss of an alpha particle, an atom of
the emanation changes into an atom of a new substance radium A, which
behaves as a solid. Radium A is very unstable, half of it breaking up in
3 minutes with the emission of an alpha particle, and gives rise to
radium B. The latter differs from the substances already mentioned in
the nature of its radiation, for it emits only beta rays but no alpha rays.
Notwithstanding this fact, it is transformed according to the same law
as an alpha ray substance, and gives rise to an entirely distinct element,

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 125

radium C. In the transformation of the latter, not only are swift
alpha rays emitted but also beta rays of great speed. There is some evi-
dence, however, that the substance called radium C is complex, and that
the alpha and beta rays arise from two distinct substances.

The successive substances arising from radium C are radium D,
radium E and radium F. The two former, like radium B, emit only
beta rays; the latter, known generally as polonium, emits only alpha
rays. It is believed that the sequence of changes ends with the trans-
formation of radium F, which is supposed to change into the well-
known non-radioactive element lead.

According to the transformation theory radium, like all other radio-
active products, must be regarded as a changing element, but one whose
rate of transformation is very slow compared with its successive
products. Boltwood showed experimentally that radium is half trans-
formed in about 2,000 3'ears, and a quantity of radium would prac-
tically have disappeared as such in 100,000 years. In order to account
for the continued existence of radium in the earth, it is necessary to
suppose that it is steadily produced from some other element. Bolt-
wood showed that the parent substance is a radioactive element called
ionium, which is itself derived from the transformation of uranium.
A quantity of ionium, entirely freed from radium, will grow radium
at a slow but constant rate. The primary element of the ionium-
radium series is uranium, which we can calculate should be half trans-
formed in 5,000 million years — a period probably long compared with
the age of many of the minerals in which uranium is found.

The complete sequence of changes in the uranium-radium series is
shown in the diagram. The nature of the radiation and the half period
of transformation are added for each element. In addition to ura-
nium, there are two other radioactive elements, thorium and actin-
ium, which are transformed with the appearance of a number of new
substances. The time at my disposal, however, is too short to discuss
these changes in detail. Thorium is known to be a primary element
whose radioactive life is even longer than uranium, but actinium is be-
lieved to be a branch descendant from some point of the uranium series,
and is thus to be regarded as a product of that element. In all, thirty-
four of these radioactive substances have been discovered, and the
position of each in the three main radioactive series has been
determined.

Each of these new substances is to be regarded as a distinct chemical
element in the ordinary sense, but differs from ordinary stable elements
in the spontaneous emission of special radiations which accompanies
the disintegration of the atoms. The radioactive substances are thus
transition elements which have a limited life and which carry within
themselves the seeds of their own destruction. Not only are these transi-
tion elements distinguished by their types of radiation but also bv

i26 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

their distinct physical and chemical properties. The extraordinary
differences in j)roperties which sometimes exist between a product and
its parent substance are well illustrated by the comparison of radium and
its product, the emanation. Radium is a solid element of atomic weight
226, which has chemical properties allied to barium but is capable of
separation from it. The emanation is a heavy monatomic gas of atomic
weight 222, which by its absence of chemical properties is allied to the
well known group of rare gases, helium, argon, neon, xenon and
krypton. In some cases, the elements show almost identical physical
and chemical properties with those of known elements, although they
differ from them in their atomic weight and radioactivity. For ex-
ample, radium B appears to be identical in ordinary chemical and
physical properties with lead although its atomic weight, 214, is quite
distinct from lead, 207. The probable explanation of this, at first
sight, remarkable identity will be discussed later.

It is of interest to note that in the majority of cases a radioactive
element breaks up in only one way which is characteristic for all the
atoms of that element, and gives rise to only one new product. The
work of Fajans and Marsden, however, has clearly shown that in the
case of radium C and the corresponding products in the thorium and
actinium series, the atoms break up in two distinct ways and give rise
to two distinct radioactive elements. It has already been pointed out
that actinium is in reality one of these side or branch products. It is
supposed that uranium X breaks up in two distinct ways, the smaller
fraction giving rise to actinium. The evidence, however, on this point,
is not yet complete.

The radioactive elements are in some respects more interesting and
important than stable elements, for, in addition to the ordinary physical
and chemical properties, they possess the radioactive property which
allows us to study the mode and rate of transformation of their atoms.

It may be asked what is the essential difference between radioactive
changes and ordinary chemical changes. In the radioactive changes we
are not dealing with the dissociation of molecules into atoms but an
actual disruption of the chemical atom. The disintegration of any
given element appears to be a spontaneous and uncontrollable process
which, unlike ordinary chemical changes, is quite unaffected by the
most drastic changes in temperature or by any other known physical or
chemical agency.

The radioactive changes differ entirely from chemical changes not
only in the peculiar character of the emitted radiations but also in the
enormous emission of energy. It can be simply shown that the energy
emitted from a radioactive substance which expels alpha particles is
several million times greater than the energy emitted from an equal
weight of matter in any known chemical reaction. This emission of
energy is mainly to be ascribed to the conversion of the energy of

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 127

motion of the swift alpha and beta particles into heat, and is thus in a
sense a secondary effect of the radiations. The enormous emission of
energy is most simply illustrated by considering the case of the radium
emanation together with its swiftly changing products, radium A,
radium B and radium C. The heating effect of a given volume or
weight of this gas has been accurately determined. From the data, it
can be calculated that one pound weight of the emanation would emit
heat energy initially at the rate of 23,000 horse power. The rate of
emission decreases with the time, falling successively to half value after
intervals of 3.85 days. During the life of the emanation the total
energy emitted corresponds to an engine working at 128,000 horse
power for one day. Such a quantity of emanation would be an enorm-
ously concentrated source of power, for the total energy emitted is
many million times greater than for an equal weight of the most power-
ful known explosive.

The emission of energy from radioactive substances does not con-
trovert the law of the conservation of energy ; for the energy is derived
from the atom itself where it exists in kinetic or potential form. We
shall see later that the atom is believed to consist of a large number of
positively and negatively charged particles which are collected in a very
small volume and held together by intense electrical forces. Such an
idea of atomic structure involves the necessity of a large store of energy
resident in the individual atom. The great emission of energy from a
radioactive substance like the emanation illustrates in a striking way
the enormous reservoir of energy that must exist in the atoms them-
selves ; for there is every reason to believe that an equivalent amount of
energy is present in the atoms of the common heavy elements. This
store of energy ordinarily does not manifest itself and is not available
for use. It is only when there is a drastic rearrangement of the atom
resulting from an atomic explosion that part of this store of energy is
liberated.

It must be borne in mind that the processes occurring in radio-
active matter are spontaneous and uncontrollable. There is at present
no evidence to indicate that we shall be able in any way to influence
radioactive changes. We are at present only able to watch and in-
vestigate this remarkable phenomenon of nature without any power of
controlling it. In a recent book, H. G. Wells has discussed in an
interesting way some of the future possibilities if this great reservoir
of energy resident in the atoms were made available for the use of
man. This will only be possible on a large scale if we are able in some
way to alter the rate of radioactive change and to cause a substance like
uranium, or thorium, to give out its energy in the course of a few hours
or days instead of over a period of many thousands or millions of years.
The possibility, however, of altering the rate of transformation of

T28 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTELY

radioactive matter, or of inducing similar effects in ordinary matter,
does not at present seem at all promising.

Structure of the Atom

We have seen that in recent years a number of methods have been
devised for determining with precision the actual weight of any atom
of matter. If it be assumed that in the solid state the atoms, or mole-
cules, of matter are in close contact, it is a simple matter to deduce the
diameter of the atom. This varies slightly for different atoms, but on
an average comes out to be about one hundred-millionth of a centimeter.
It is necessary, however, to be cautious in speaking of the diameter of
the atom. The term " diameter of the sphere of action " of the atom
is preferable, for it is not at all certain that the actual atomic structure
is nearly so extensive as the region through which the atomic forces are
appreciable.

Even before the discovery of the electron, the general idea had been
suggested that the atom was an electrical structure composed of nega-
tively and positively charged particles held in equilibrium by electrical
forces. Such ideas had been proposed and developed by Larmor and
Lorentz in order to explain the electrical and optical properties of the
atom. The proof that the negative electron was an independent unit
of the structure of the atom gave a great impetus to the formation of
more concrete ideas on atomic structure. There was one important
difficulty, however, that arose at the outset. While negative electricity
had been shown to exist in independent units of very small apparent
mass, the corresponding unit of positive electricity was never found
associated with a mass less than the atom of hydrogen. All attempts to
show the existence of a positive electron of small mass, which is a
counterpart of the negative electron, have resulted in failure, and it
seems doubtful whether such a positive electron exists. The role played
by positive electricity in the atom was thus a matter of conjecture. In
a paper called " iEpinus Atomized," the late Lord Kelvin considered an
atom to consist of a uniform sphere of positive electrification, through-
out which negative electricity was distributed in the form of discrete
electrons. In order to make such an atom electrically neutral, it is, of
course, necessary that the positive charge should be equal and opposite
to the charge carried by the electrons. This idea of the structure of
the atom was taken up and developed with great mathematical skill by
Sir J. J. Thomson. He investigated the constitution of atoms contain-
ing different numbers of electrons, and showed that such model atoms
possessed properties very similar to those shown by the actual atoms.
The Thomson atom proved for many years very useful in giving a con-
crete idea of the possible structure of the atom, and had the great
advantage of being amenable to calculation.

The rapid advance of science in the last decade has provided us

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 129

with new and powerful methods of attack on this problem, and has
allowed us to distinguish to some extent between various theories of
atomic structure. One of these methods depends on the study of the
deflection of swiftly moving bodies like alpha and beta particles in their
passage through matter. It is found that these rays are always scat-
tered in their passage through matter, i. e., a narrow pencil of rays
opens out into a diffuse or scattered beam. The alpha and beta particles
move so swiftly that they are actually able to pass through the structure
of the atom and are deflected by the intense forces within the atom.
Geiger first drew attention to a very unexpected effect with alpha
particles. When a pencil of alpha rays falls on a thin film of gold, for
example, the great majority of the particles pass through with little
absorption. A few, however, are found to be so scattered that they are
turned back through an angle of more than a right angle. Taking into
consideration the great energy of motion of the alpha particle, such a
result is as surprising as it would be to a gunner if an occasional shot
at a light target was deflected back towards the gun. It was found that
these large deflections must result from an encounter with a single
atom. The occasional sudden deflection of an alpha particle is well
illustrated in one of the later photographs of the trail of an alpha
particle obtained by Mr. C. T. R. Wilson, and shown in Fig. 13. It is

Fig. 13. Track of Alpha Particles showing Shabp Deviations (Wilson).

seen that the rectilinear path of the particle suffers two sharp bends,
no doubt resulting in each case from a single close encounter with an
atom. In the sharp bend near the end a slight spur is seen, indicating
that the atom was set in such swift motion by the encounter with the
alpha particle that it was able to ionize gas at a short distance. If the
forces causing the deflection were electrical, it was at once evident that
the electric field within the atom must be exceedingly intense. The dis-
tribution of positive electricity assumed in the Thomson atom was much
too diffuse to produce the intense fields required. To overcome this
difficulty, the writer inverted the role of positive electricity. Instead
of being distributed through a sphere comparable in size with the
sphere of action of the atom, the positive electricity is supposed to be

i3o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

concentrated in a very minute volume or nucleus, and the greater part
of the mass of the atom is supposed to be resident in this nucleus. The
latter is supposed to be surrounded by a distribution of negative elec-
trons extending over a distance comparable with the diameter of the
atom as ordinarily understood. On this point of view, the alpha particle
is the minute nucleus of the helium atom, which has lost its two ex-
ternal electrons. In this type of atom, the large deviations of the
alpha particle take place when it passes through the intense electric
field close to the nucleus of the colliding atom. The nearer it passes
to the nucleus, the greater the deflection of the particle. Assuming
that the forces between the alpha particle and the nucleus of the collid-
ing atom are mainly electrical and vary according to an inverse square
law, the alpha particle describes a hyperbolic orbit round the nucleus,
and the relative number of alpha particles deflected through different
angles can be simply calculated.

It was thus possible to test this theory of atomic structure by actual
experiment. This was undertaken by Geiger and Marsden in a very
important but difficult investigation. They examined the relative
number of alpha particles scattered through various angles by their
passage through thin films of matter, e. g., aluminium, silver and gold,
by actually counting the alpha particles by means of the scintillations
on a zinc sulphide screen. The experimental results were found to be
in very good accord with the theory, while Darwin, in addition, showed
that any other law of force except the inverse square was incompatible
with the observations.

From these results, it is a simple matter to show that the radium
of the nucleus of the gold atom can not be greater than 3 X 1012 cm. —
an exceedingly small distance and only about one ten-thousandth part
of the diameter of the atom. While the results thus indicated that the
nucleus of a heavy atom was of minute dimensions, it was of interest to
see whether a still lower limit could be obtained for lighter atoms. On
the theory, the helium atom has a nucleus of two unit positive charges,
and the lighter atom, hydrogen, should have a nucleus of only one unit.
When an alpha particle passes through hydrogen gas, there should be
occasional very close encounters between the particle and nucleus of
the hydrogen atom. Since the mass of the hydrogen atom is only one
quarter of that of helium, it is to be anticipated that the former should
be set in very swift motion by a close collision with an alpha particle,
and in special cases should be given a velocity 1.6 times greater than
that of the colliding alpha particle, and should travel four times as far.
Such swiftly moving hydrogen nuclei were actually observed by Mars-
den with the scintillation method when a pencil of alpha rays passed
through hydrogen, and they were found to travel, as the theory pre-
dicted, about four times further than the alpha particle itself. Since
the energy gained by the hydrogen nucleus depends on the closeness

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 13 x

of its approach to the alpha particle, it can be simply calculated that
the centers of the nuclei must have passed within 10-13 cm. of each
other. This is an extraordinarily small distance, even smaller than
the diameter of the electron itself. It is thus clear that the nuclei of
hydrogen and of helium must be exceedingly minute. It should be
borne in mind that such observations only give a maximum limit to
the size of the nucleus, and there is no experimental evidence against
the view that the nucleus of the hydrogen atom may not actually prove
to be minute in volume compared even with the negative electron. If
this be the case, it appears probable that the hydrogen nucleus is the
'positive electron and that its great mass compared with the negative
electron is due to the greater concentration of its charge. According
to modern theory, the electrical mass of a charged particle varies in-
versely as its radius. The greater mass of the positive than of the
negative electron would thus be explained if its radius were only 1/1800
of that of the negative electron, viz., about 10~16 cm.

There is no evidence to contradict this point of view, and its sim-
plicity has much to commend it. In viewing the essential differences
exhibited by positive and negative electricity in connection with matter
and the obvious asymmetry of the distribution of the two electricities
in the atom, one is driven to the conclusion that there is a fundamental
distinction between positive and negative electricity. Since the unit
of positive charge is identical in magnitude with the unit of negative
charge, the only possible difference is the mass of the two units, and
this on modern views is mainly dependent on the dimensions or degree
of concentration of the electricity in these fundamental entities.

If we take the view that the hydrogen nucleus is the positive elec-
tron, it is to be anticipated that the nuclei of all atoms are built up of
positive and negative electrons, the positive electricity being always in
excess, so that the nucleus shows a resultant positive charge. The mass
of the atom will depend mainly on the number of the massive positive
electrons in the nucleus, although it will be affected to a slight extent
by the number of the lighter negative electrons involved in the struc-
ture of the whole atom. The" mass of the atom will no doubt be in-
fluenced also by the distribution of the positive and negative electrons
in the nucleus, for these must be packed so closely together that their
field must interact. As Lorentz has shown, the mass of a number of
closely packed electrons is not necessarily the same as the sum of indi-
vidual masses of the component electrons. Taking such factors into
account, we should not necessarily expect the mass of all atoms to
be nearly an integral multiple of the mass of the hydrogen atom,
although it is known that in a number of cases such a relation appears
to hold fairly closely.

The appearance of a helium atom in such a fundamental process as
the transformation of radioactive atoms indicates that helium is one

1 32 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of the units, possibly secondary, of which the nuclei of the heavy atoms
are built up. In course of its successive transformations, a uranium
atom loses eight helium atoms, a thorium atom six, and an atom of
actinium five. The probability that helium is one of the units of
atomic structure not only in the case of radioactive atoms but for or-
dinary atoms is strengthened by the fact that the atomic weights of a
number of elements differ by about four units.

The fact that the helium nucleus survives the intense disturbance
resulting in its violent ejection from a radioactive atom suggests that
it is a very stable configuration. On the views discussed, it is natural
to suppose that the helium nucleus of atomic weight about four is made
up of four positive electrons united with two negative electrons. No
doubt it is difficult to understand why such a system should hold to-
gether, but it must be remembered that we have no information as to
the nature of magnitude of the forces existing at such minute distances
as are involved in the structure of the nucleus.

We have so far assumed without proof that while the nucleus of an
atom carries a resultant positive charge, negative electrons are also
present. The main evidence on this point comes from a study of the
radioactive elements. A substance which breaks up with the emission
of swift electrons (beta rays), but no alpha particles, suffers disintegra-
tion according to the same laws and gives rise to a new element in the
same way as when an alpha particle is lost. It seems necessary to sup-
pose from a number of lines of evidence that a transformation which
is accompanied by the emission of primary beta particles must have its
origin in the ejection of a negative electron from the nucleus itself, or
from a point very close to the nucleus.

There are no means at present of deciding definitely the relative
number of positive and negative units composing the nucleus, except
possibly from a consideration of the atomic weight of the atom in terms
of hydrogen. It is, however, premature to discuss such questions until
more information is obtained as to the structure of the nucleus and
the effect of concentration and distribution of the component electrical
charges on its apparent mass.

Charge Carried by the Nucleus
"We are now in a position to consider a very important question, viz.,
the magnitude of the positive charge carried by the atomic nucleus.
Since an atom is electrically neutral, the negative charge carried by
the exterior distribution of electrons in the structure of the atom must
be equal and opposite to the resultant positive charge carried by the
nucleus. The electrical charge is most conveniently expressed in terms
of the number of the fundamental units of charge in the nucleus.
Since the charge carried by the electron is one unit, the charge on
the nucleus of the atom may be expressed numerically by the number

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 133

of electrons exterior to the nucleus. Several methods of attack on this
problem have been suggested. Sir J. J. Thomson showed that the
scattering of Eontgen rays in passing through the atoms of matter
must depend on the number of electrons composing the atom. By as-
suming that each electron scattered is an independent unit, an expres-
sion for the scattering was found in terms of the number of electrons
in the atom. By comparison of the theory with experiment, Barkla
deduced that for many elements the number of electrons in an atom
was approximately proportional to its atomic weight and numerically
equal to about one half of the atomic weight in terms of hydrogen.

The charge in the nucleus can also be directly determined from the
experiments on scattering of alpha rays, to which attention has pre-
viously been drawn. Geiger and Marsden found that the large angle
scattering of alpha rays in passing through different substances was
proportional per atom to the square of its atomic weight. This showed
that the positive charge on the nucleus was approximately proportional
to the atomic weight at any rate for elements of atomic weight varying
between aluminium and gold. By measuring the fraction of the total
number of alpha particles which were deflected through a definite angle
in passing through a known thickness of matter, the charge on the
nucleus was deduced directly. The number of positive units of charge
on the nucleus, which is equal to the number of external negative elec-
trons, was found to be expressed by about one half of the atomic
weight in terms of hydrogen. The results obtained by two entirely
distinct methods of attack are thus in good accord and give approxi-
mately the magnitude of this important atomic constant.

It is obvious, however, that the deduction that the number of units
of charge on the nucleus is half the atomic weight, must be only a
first approximation to the truth even in the case of the heavier atoms.
It has already been pointed out that the nucleus of the helium atom of
atomic mass four must carry two unit charges, for it is difficult to be-
lieve that any of the exterior electrons of helium can remain attached
after its violent expulsion from the atom and its subsequent passage
through matter. If this be the^ease, the nucleus of the hydrogen atom
of atomic mass one, must carry one unit charge. Van den Broek and
Bohr have suggested that the charge on the nucleus might be equal to
the actual number of the element when all the known elements are ar-
ranged in order of increasing atomic weight. This is in excellent ac-
cord with the experiments of scattering and removes a difficulty in
regard to the lighter atoms. Taking this view, the nucleus charge is
for hydrogen 1, helium 2, lithium 3, carbon 6, oxygen 8, etc. The sim-
plicity of this conception has much to commend it.

During the last year a new and powerful method of attack on this
fundamental problem has been developed by Moseley by the study of
X-ray spectra. In 1912, Laue found that X rays showed obvious in-

34

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

terference or diffraction effects in their passage through crystals, thus
proving definitely that the X rays consist of very short waves analogous
to those of light. W. H. Bragg and W. L. Bragg and Moseley and
Darwin found that the reflection of the X rays from crystals provided a
very simple method of measuring the wave length of the X rays when
the spacing of the atoms in the crystal is known. If the X rays give a
spectrum containing some bright lines, the wave-lengths of the latter
can be simply determined. The work of Barkla has shown us that an
X radiation, characteristic of each element, is excited under certain
conditions when X rays fall upon it. The penetrating power of this
characteristic radiation increases rapidly with the atomic weight of
the radiator. In heavy elements, another type of characteristic radia-
tion makes its appearance. These two types of characteristic radia-
tion have been called by Barkla the " K " and " L " radiations respec-
tively. These radiations can be excited either by X rays of suitable
penetrating power or by direct bombardment of the element by cathode
rays in a vacuum tube. Moseley made a systematic examination of the
X-ray spectra of a great majority of the elements. For this purpose,

Fig. 14. X-ray Spectra of Successive Elements (Moseley). The additional lines
in spectrum of Co and Ni are due to impurity. Brass shows the combined

spectra of copper and zinc.

the elements examined were bombarded by cathode rays, and the spec-
trum of the radiation examined by reflection from a suitable crystal.
He found that the spectra of the " K " radiation from elements varying
in atomic weight from aluminium to silver were all similar in type, con-
sisting mainly of two strong lines.2 An example of the spectrum ob-
tained for a number of successive elements is shown in Fig. 14. It is
seen that with increasing atomic weight, the wave-lengths of the corre-
sponding lines diminish, not irregularly but by definite and well marked
2 In later work Eawlinson and Bragg have found that each of these linea
is in reality a very close double.

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 135

steps. Moseley found that for the K radiation the frequency of the
radiation was proportional to (N-a)2 where N was a whole number
which varied by unity in passing from one element to the next of
higher atomic weight and a constant about unity. From silver to gold,
the spectra given by the L radiations of elements were compared.
These spectra consist of about five lines, of which two are relatively
very strong. It was found again that the spectra were similar in type
and that the frequency of a given line diminished by definite steps in
passing from one element to another. The frequency of the radiation
in this case was proportional to (N-b)2 where b was a constant and N
a whole number. Moseley concluded that the value of N in these ex-
pressions was the atomic number, i. e., the number of the element ar-
ranged in order of increasing atomic weight. Taking aluminium as
the 13th element, he found that succeeding elements were expressed by
the value of N 14, 15, 16, 17, etc., up to 77 for gold.

There appears to be little doubt that the X-ray spectrum of an
element arises from the vibrations of the rings of electrons deep in the
atomic structure outside the nucleus. Quite apart from the very in-
teresting question of the mode of origin of these very high frequency
spectra, it is seen that the fundamental modes of vibration of the dis-
tribution of electrons are simply connected with the square of a number,
which varies by unity in passing from one element to the next. There
appears to be no doubt that the atomic number represents the number
of units of positive charge carried by the nucleus, which on account of
the atomic nature of electricity can only vary by whole numbers and
not by fractions.

It is obvious that the study of X-ray spectra reveals at once whether
any atomic number is missing, and also affords a remarkably simple
method of settling the number of elements possible in the rare earth
group about which there has been so much difference of opinion.
Moseley concluded that from aluminium to gold, only three possible
elements were missing which should have atomic numbers 43, 61, 75,
and only one element of number 61 appears to be missing in the rare
earth group. The frequencies -of the X-ray spectra of these missing
elements can be calculated with certainty, and these data should prove
an invaluable aid in a search for these missing elements. It has long
been known that nickel and cobalt occupy an anomalous position in the
periodic table when arranged according to atomic weights. This diffi-
culty is now removed, for Moseley found that when arranged in order
of nucleus charge, both elements fall into the position to be expected
from their chemical properties.

Nucleus Charge and Chemical Properties
It is established by the work of Moseley that the elements can be de-
fined by their nucleus charge, and that probably elements exist which

136 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

have all the nucleus charges from 1 for hydrogen to 92 for lead. There
is, however, another very important consequence that follows from this
conception of the atom. Disregarding for a moment the atomic weight
which depends mainly on the structure of the nucleus, the main phys-
ical and chemical properties of the atom are determined by the nucleus
charge and not by the atomic mass. This must obviously be the case, for
the number and distribution of electrons round the nucleus is determined
by the electric forces between the electrons and the nucleus, and this is
dependent on the magnitude of the nucleus charge which may be re-
garded as a point charge. Without entering into the difficult question
of the actual distribution of the exterior electrons in any atom, it is
obvious that the number and position of the outlying electrons of the
atomic structure, which probably mainly influence the chemical and
physical properties of the atom, are determined by the charge on the
nucleus. No doubt if the electrons are in motion, their positions rela-
tive to the nucleus and possibly also their rates of vibration will be
slightly influenced by the mass of the nucleus as well as its charge, but
the general evidence indicates that this effect must be very small.

We thus see that there is in the structure of every atom a quantity
which is more fundamental and important than its atomic weight, viz.,
its nuclear charge. It is known that the variation of the atomic weights
of the elements with atomic number, while showing certain well-marked
relationships, shows no definite regularity. From the point of view of
the nucleus theory, the atomic weight of an element, while in some
cases approximately proportional to its atomic number, is in reality a
complicated function of the actual structure of the nucleus. The ques-
tion why the atomic mass should not necessarily be proportional to the
atomic number has already been discussed. While the main proper-
ties of an atom are controlled by its nuclear charge, the property of
gravitation and also that of radioactivity are to be ascribed mainly, if
not entirely, to the nucleus.

Radioactive Elements axd the Pekiodic Series
Since the nucleus charge of an atom determines the main physical
and chemical properties of an atom, it is possible that elements may
exist of equal nuclear charges but different atomic weights. For ex-
ample, if it were possible to add a helium nucleus to the nucleus of an-
other atom, it would increase the nuclear charge by two and the mass
by about four; if instead of the helium nucleus two hydrogen nuclei
were added, the charge would be the same but the mass of the resulting
atom two units less than with helium. In such a case, two atoms would
be possible of identical nuclear charge but different atomic weights.
In a similar way, it may be possible for elements to exist of the same
atomic mass but different nuclear charges. This would be brought
about by the loss or gain of one or more negative electrons in the nucleus.

TEE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 137

The study of radioactive elements has in the last year thrown a
flood of light not only on this problem but on the underlying meaning
of the periodic law of the elements. Eussell, Fajans and Soddy inde-
pendently put forward a remarkable and important generalization in
regard to the change of chemical properties of the successive products
of transformation of the primary radioactive elements. This general-
ization can be very simply expressed in terms of the usual arrangement
of the elements in groups according to the periodic law. It is found
that after a transformation in which alpha particles are expelled, the
resulting element has chemical properties which shift its place two
groups lower in the direction of diminishing mass. On the other hand,
the element resulting from a beta ray transformation shifts one place
in the opposite direction. For example, radium, which is in group II.,
changes after loss of an alpha particle into the emanation into group
0, which included all the inert gases of the helium-argon type. The
emanation after loss of another particle becomes radium A, which be-
longs to group VI., and this in turn becomes radium B belonging to
group IV. Since radium B is transformed by the loss of a beta par-
ticle, the resulting element radium C takes up a position in group V.
By this simple rule, it has been found possible to define the essential
chemical properties of all known radioactive elements. It was found
that on this theory one element was missing in the general scheme.
This element was discovered a few weeks later by Fajans and Gohring,
and found to have the general chemical properties predicted for it.

This generalization is capable of a very simple explanation on the
nucleus theory. The loss of an alpha particle of charge 2 lowers the
nuclear charge of the resulting elements two units; the loss of a beta
particle, which carries a unit negative charge, raises the nuclear charge
by one unit. In other words, the atomic number of an element shifts
two units lower after loss of an alpha particle and shifts one unit
higher after loss of a beta particle.

The atomic numbers of the elements in the uranium-radium series
can be simply deduced from this rule if the atomic number of one ele-
ment is known. We shall see^later that the atomic number of radium
B is 82 and identical with that of lead. The actual atomic numbers
of the various elements are given in the circles representing the atoms
in Fig. 12. It is seen that uranium, the heaviest known element, has
an atomic number 92, while the elements radium B, radium D and the
end product, which is believed to be lead, have the same atomic number,
viz., 82. The evidence of the correctness of this striking conclusion
will now be discussed.

As a result of a careful examination of the radioactive substances,
it has been found that in a number of cases elements, which are of dif-
ferent atomic weight and exhibit different radioactive properties, yet

VOL. LXXXVII. — 10.

1 38 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

o

show identical general physical and chemical behavior. For example,
the elements radium B, radium D and lead, of atomic weights 214, 210,
and 207, respectively, are so closely allied in chemical and physical
properties that all attempts to separate a mixture of any two of them
have failed completely. This would be explained if the nuclear charges
were identical for those elements, as the generalization, already re-
ferred to, indicates. If this be the case, they should give identical
spectra under similar conditions. Unfortunately the elements radium
B and radium D are in too small quantity to determine their ordinary
light spectra, but we can compare the X-ray spectrum of lead with
that given by radium B under the excitation of its own beta rays. Ex-
periments of this kind were recently made by Dr. Andrade and the
writer, and the two spectra were found to be identical within the limits
of experimental error. It is to be anticipated that their light spectra
would also prove to be identical, or nearly so, for, as previously pointed
out, the effect of the mass of the nucleus on the spectrum is probably
very small.

The fact that the atoms of these three elements are not identical as
regards mass or radioactive properties, shows that the structure of the
nucleus is different in each case.

There is another important deduction that should be mentioned.
The end product of the uranium-radium series is an inactive element
which has long been considered to be lead, but it has been difficult to
verify this conclusion by direct experiment. We have seen that the
end product has the same atomic number as lead, but should have an
atomic weight about 206 instead of 207 as found for ordinary lead. In
a similar way, it has been concluded by Soddy and Fajans that the end
product of thorium has the same atomic number as lead, but should
have an atomic weight about 208.5. In order to test these remarkable
conclusions, experiments are now in progress by a number of investi-
gators in different countries to examine whether the lead always found
in radioactive minerals and which presumably has partly, if not wholly,
a radioactive origin, shows the same atomic weight as ordinary lead.
Soddy has already found evidence that there is a distinct difference in
the atomic weights in the direction predicted by the theory.3

The question naturally arises whether some of the ordinary elements
may not prove to be a mixture of two, or even more, of these " isotopes,"
as they have been termed. Unless the component isotopes are present
in different proportion in different natural sources of the element, it
will be difficult to settle this problem by ordinary chemical methods.

3 Since the delivery of this lecture, similar conclusions have been reached by
the experiments of Eichards in Cambridge and Honigschmid in Vienna. There
still, however, remains some doubt as to the actual difference in atomic weight of
uranium lead, thorium lead and ordinary lead. A very promising beginning has
thus been made on the attack of this most important and fundamental problem.

THE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 139

There is one element, however, besides lead, about which interesting
evidence has been obtained on this point. Sir J. J. Thomson found by
examining the deflection of the positively charged particles produced by
an electric discharge through the rare gas, neon, that two elements were
present of atomic weights about 20 (neon) and 22. Aston was able by
diffusion experiments to separate partially the two components of neon
and to show that they differed in density, but failed in attempts to
separate them by fractional distillation in charcoal cooled by liquid air.
Such results are to be anticipated if neon is a mixture of two isotopes,
i. e., elements of identical nuclear charges but different atomic weights.
It is obvious that this new point of view will result in a systematic
examination of the elements to test for the possible presence of isotopes,
and thus give an additional reason for the accurate determination of
atomic weights for elements obtained from widely different sources.

Distribution of Electrons in the Atom

It is seen that the nucleus theory of the atom offers a simple ex-
planation of many important facts which have been brought to light in
recent years, and for this purpose it has not been necessary to make
any special assumptions as to the actual structure of the nucleus, or of
the way in which the external electrons are distributed. The investiga-
tion of the latter problem is beset with many difficulties; for an elec-
tron is attracted towards the nucleus, and even if it is in orbital motion,
it must on the electromagnetic theory lose energy by radiation and ul-
timately fall into the nucleus. It appears likely that this difficulty is
in reality due to our ignorance of the conditions under which an electron
radiates energy. According to the views outlined in this lecture, the
hydrogen atom has the simplest possible structure, for it consists of a
nucleus of one unit charge and one negative electron. The question
naturally arises how such a simple structure can give rise to the com-
plex spectrum observed for hydrogen. This problem has been attacked
in a series of remarkable papers by Bohr, who concludes that the com-
plexity of the spectrum is not due to the complexity of the atomic
structure but to the variety of modes in which an electron can emit
radiation. Suppose, for example, that a hydrogen atom has lost its
negative electron. Bohr supposes that an electron falling towards the
positively charged nucleus may occupy temporarily any one of a number
of stationary positions fixed relatively to the nucleus. In falling from
one stationary state to another, radiation is emitted of a definite fre-
quency which is connected with the difference of potential energy E of
the electron in the two stationary states by E-h where h is Planck's
fundamental constant. On this hypothesis, he has been able to account
for the series spectra of hydrogen and to deduce directly from the
theory the value of Balmer's constant which plays such an important

i4o TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTELY

part in the spectra of all atoms. In a similar way, the helium atom
is supposed to consist of a nucleus of two unit charges surrounded by
two electrons. On the theory, the spectrum of helium is connected in
a very simple way with that of hydrogen. Bohr also pointed out that
the Pickering series of spectral lines observed in certain stars which
were originally attributed to hydrogen must be ascribed to helium.
This conclusion has since been strongly supported by the direct experi-
ments of Fowler and Evans, In a similar way, Bohr described the
possible distribution of electrons in several of the lighter atoms and
also discussed the structure of the hydrogen molecule, which is com-
posed of two hydrogen nuclei and two electrons. The heat of com-
bination deduced for the theoretical molecule is in fair accord with
experiment. He found that two helium atoms were unable to unite to
form a molecule — in agreement with a well-known property of this gas.

While there is room for much difference of opinion as to the in-
terpretation of the rather revolutionary assumptions made by Bohr to
explain the structure of the simple atoms and molecules, there can be
no doubt of the great interest and importance of this first attempt to
deduce the structure of the simple atoms and to explain the origin of
their spectra. The agreement of the properties of such theoretical
structures with the actual atoms is in several cases so remarkable that
it is difficult to believe that the theory is not in some way an expression
of the actual facts. While much work will be necessary before we can
hope to understand the structure of any but the simplest atoms, a
promising beginning has been made in the attack on this most difficult
and fundamental of problems.

There seems to be little doubt that the more marked physical and
chemical properties of an atom are to be attributed to a few outlying elec-
trons in the atomic structure. The position and number of these " val-
ency " electrons, as they have been termed by Stark, are defined by the
magnitude of the nucleus charge. It has previously been pointed out that
the loss of an alpha particle from a radioactive atom changes the posi-
tion of the element two groups lower in the periodic table, while the
loss of a beta particle raises it one group higher. Consequently it fol-
lows that the loss or gain of a unit charge from the nucleus of an
atom causes it to change its position from one group to the next. If,
for example, we follow the chemical properties of successive elements
when the nucleus charge increases by unity, we soon reach an element
which belongs to the same group as the first, although of much higher
atomic weight. We must consequently conclude that the number and
position of the outlying electrons in the structure of the atom passes
through successive changes which are regularly repeated with increasing
atomic weight. Quite apart from any detailed knowledge of the elec-
tronic distribution of atoms, the regular recurrence of elements of

TEE CONSTITUTION OF MATTER 141

similar chemical properties with increasing atomic weight is to be an-
ticipated on the general theory that an atom is an electrical structure.

Evolution of the Elements

It has long been thought probable that the elements are all built up
of some fundamental substance, and Prout's well-known hypothesis that
all atoms are composed of hydrogen is one of the best known examples
of this idea. The evidence of radioactivity certainly indicates that the
heavy radioactive elements are in part composed of helium, for an atom
of the latter appears as a result of many of the radioactive trans-
formations. No definite evidence, however, has been obtained that
hydrogen appears as a result of such transformations ; but as previously
pointed out, helium may prove to be an important secondary unit
in the structure of heavy atoms. While we have thus undoubted evi-
dence of the breaking up of heavy atoms, no indication has yet been
observed that the radioactive processes are reversible under ordinary
conditions. Many investigations have been made to test whether new
elements appear in strong electric discharges in vacuum tubes. While
some of the results obtained are difficult of interpretation, no reliable
evidence has yet been adduced that one element can be transformed into
another under such conditions.

The question of the evolution of the elements has been attacked
from another side. Sir Norman Lockyer and others have suggested
that the elements composing the star are in a state of inorganic evolu-
tion. In the hottest stars the spectra of hydrogen and helium pre-
dominate, but with decreasing temperature, the spectra becomes more
complicated and the lines of heavier elements appear. On this view, it
is supposed that the light elements combine with decreasing tempera-
ture to form the heavier elements.

There is no doubt that it will prove a very difficult task to bring
about the transmutation of matter under ordinary terrestrial conditions.
The enormous evolution of energy which accompanies the transforma-
tion of radioactive matter affords some indication of the great intensity
of the forces that will be required to build up lighter into heavier atoms.
On the point of view outlined in these lectures, the building up of a new
atom will require the addition to the atomic nucleus of eitber the
nucleus of hydrogen or of helium, or a combination of these nuclei. On
present data, this is only possible if the hydrogen or helium atom is
shot into the atom with such great speed that it passes close to the
nucleus. In any case, it presumes there are forces close to the nucleus
which are equivalent to forces of attraction for positively charged
masses. It is possible that the nucleus of an atom may be altered
either by direct collision of the nucleus with very swift electrons or
atoms of helium such as are ejected from radioactive matter. There is

t42 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

no doubt that under favorable conditions, these particles must pass very
close to the nucleus and may either lead to a disruption of the nucleus
or to a combination with it. Unfortunately, the chance of such a dis-
ruption or combination is so small under experimental conditions that
the amount of new matter which is possible of formation within a
reasonable time would be exceedingly small, and so very difficult of de-
tection by direct methods. Very penetrating X rays or gamma rays
may for similar reasons prove to be possible agencies for changing
atoms. Although it is difficult to obtain direct evidence, I personally
am inclined to believe that all atoms are built up of positive electrons —
hydrogen nuclei — and negative electrons, and that atoms are purely
electrical structures.

There can be little doubt that conditions have existed in the past
in which these electrons have combined to form the atoms of the ele-
ments, and it may be quite possible under the very intense electrical
disturbances which may exist in hot stars that the process of combina-
tion and dissociation of atoms still continues.

In these lectures, I have tried to give an idea of some modern
views of the structure of the atoms and of the great variety of new and
powerful methods which have been applied to the attack of this problem
in recent years. We have seen that a heavy atom is undoubtedly a
complex electrical system consisting of positively and negatively
charged particles in rapid motion. The general evidence indicates that
each atom contains at its center a massive charged nucleus or core of
very small dimensions surrounded by a cluster of electrons probably in
rapid motion which extend for distances from the center very great
compared with the diameter of the nucleus. Such a view affords a
reasonable and simple explanation of many important facts obtained
in recent years, but so far only a beginning has been made in the attack
on the detailed structure of atoms — that fundamental problem which
lies at the basis of physics and chemistry.

WAR SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE 143

WAE SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE

By Chancellor DAVID STARR JORDAN

STANFORD UNIVERSITY

France

TT^UROPE had no finer human stock than that of France, and no
-*—^ modern people has suffered more from the ravages of war and
glory. The Gauls, as they appear in early history, were a Celtic race.
Conquest made them Gallo-Roman. Later, especially in the north and
east, their blood was strengthened by Teutonic strains — the Normans
from Scandinavia and the Franks from Central Germany. In later
days a large influx from Germanic Alsace has made German names
common in French society.

Through reversal of selection by war, the men of France lost in
stature, and the nation in initiative. But a good stock possesses power
of recuperation, and regenerative processes have been evident in France
for the last twenty years. Peace and security, industry and economy
enable the natural forces of selection to operate. This means race re-
generation. The nation had been sorely wounded by her own sons.
She has been making a healthy recovery.1

In the Wiertz gallery in Brussels is a. striking painting, dating from
the time of Napoleon, called "A Scene in Hell" ("Une Scene dans
l'Enfer"). It represents the great marshal with folded arms and face
unmoved descending slowly to the land of the shades. Before him
filling all the background of the picture, their faces expressing every
form of reproach, are the men sent to death before their time by his

1 ' ' Land, money, tradition and prestige, ' ' says Professor Albert Leon
Guerard ("French Civilization in the Nineteenth Century," 1912), "would be
naught if the people had lost its. soul. Their wealth would pass into stronger
hands, and their prestige to contempt. Once, about twenty years ago, the
French themselves wondered if it had not come to that. The cry of a de-
cadence was raised by malevolent rivals, by sensationalists, by esthetics in
quest of a new pose, by earnest patriots who had lost their star. When a be-
lated echo of this reaches us now, how faint and strange and silly it sounds.
For the one great asset of the French is their indomitable vitality. Even in
wasteful conflict one can not fail to admire the evidence of power. In the
twentieth century as ever before the French are among the pioneers.

"I do not see France as a goddess, austere and remote. I see her in-
tensely human, stained with indecencies and blasphemies, scarred with in-
numerable battles, often blinded and stumbling on the way, but fighting on un-
dismayed, for ideals which she can not always define. An old nation? A
wounded nation? Perhaps, but her mighty heart is throbbing with uncon-
querable life."

i44 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTE LY

unbridled ambition. Four millions there were in all, more than half of
them Frenchmen. And behind the legions shown or hinted at, one
seems to discern the millions on millions who might have been and
are not — the huge widening wedge of the possible descendants of those
who fell in battle, youth without blemish ("l'elite de l'Europe"),
made "flesh for the cannon" in the rush of Napoleon's great cam-
paigns.

These came from the farm, the workshop, the school, "the best
that the nation could bring," men from eighteen to thirty-five years
of age at first, but afterwards the older and the younger. Napoleon
said :

A boy will stop a bullet as well as a man.

Says Professor Haeckel:

The more vigorous and well-born a young man is, the more normally consti-
tuted, the greater his chance to be slain by musket or magazine, the rifled
cannon and other similar engines of civilization.

Sa}rs Seeck:

Napoleon, in a series of years seized all the youth of high stature and left
them scattered over many battlefields, so that the French people who followed
them are mostly of smaller stature. More than once since Napoleon's time
has the military limit been lowered.

In the career of Napoleon campaign followed campaign, against
enemies, against neutrals, against friends. Conscription followed vic-
tory, both victory and conscription debasing the human species. Again
conscription after conscription.

Let them die with arms in their hands. Their death is glorious, and it
will be avenged. You can always fill the places of soldiers. ... A great soldier
like me doesn't care a tinker's dam for the lives of a million men.

Still more conscription. After Wagram, France began to feel its
weakness, the " Grand Army " being no longer the army which had
fought at Ulm and Jena.

Eaw conscripts raised before their time and hurriedly drafted into the line
had impaired its steadiness.

After Moscow, homeward
amidst ever-deepening misery they struggled on, until of the six hundred
thousand men who had proudly crossed the Nieman for the conquest of Eussia,
only twenty thousand famished, frostbitten, unarmed specters staggered across
the bridge of Korno in the middle of December. . . . Despite the loss of the
most splendid army marshalled by man, Napoleon abated no whit of his resolve
to dominate Germany and discipline Eussia. ... He strained every effort to
call the youth of the empire to arms . . . and 350,000 conscripts were prom-
ised by the senate. The mighty swirl of the Moscow campaign sucked in
150,000 lads of under twenty years of age into the devouring vortex. . . . The
peasantry gave up their sons as food for cannon.

But

many were appalled at the frightful drain on the nation's strength. ... In
less than half a year after the loss of half a million men a new army nearly as
numerous was marshalled under the imperial eagles. But the majority were

WAR SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE 145

young, untrained troops, and it was remarked that the conscripts born in the
year of terror had not the stamina of the earlier levies. Brave they were,
superbly brave, and the emperor sought by every means to breathe into them
his indomitable spirit. (J. H. Eose.) Truly the emperor could make boys
heroes, but he could never repair the losses of 1812. . . . Soldiers were want-
ing, youths were dragged forth. ... To fill hell with heroes,

— in these words some one has summed up the life-work of Napoleon.
" J'ai cent mille hommes de rente/' " My income is a hundred thousand
men/' said Napoleon. But to a terrible degree he lived beyond his
income.

French writers have been very frank in the discussion of national
deficiencies and mistakes. They have wished to conceal nothing from
France and therefore nothing from the world. Their admissions have
been exaggerated by unfriendly critics. It has been claimed that
modern France, with the other Latin nations, is a " decadent state," that
she has passed her prime and is now in the weakness and sterility of
old age, her place as the dominating force on the continent of Europe
having been yielded to a younger and more aggressive power. If its
strong strains are not wholly extirpated, peace and security will renew
its youth. Decrepitude in a nation is due not to age, but to the opera-
tions of war, as we have several times insisted, followed by the loss of
its best strains of blood and their replacement by recruiting from im-
migrants of the weaker races. Though France has suffered grievously
from war, as a nation she has lost little from immigration and not
much from emigration.

Certain features of French life have been indicated as evidences of
injury from reversal of selection. The birthrate of France, already
low, has been steadily falling. This is apparently a result of the sur-
vival of the cautious, for Napoleon's dashing grenadiers could hardly be
imagined to limit their families for prudential reasons of economy. In-
deed, the French in Canada, not affected by war, are notoriously fecund.
Another evidence of the survival of the cautious is found in the relative
lack of business enterprise in France. The gold hoarded in her stock-
ings has been used mainly for^ international loans, rarely for business
development, foreign loans yielding a higher interest with less personal
responsibility. And the absence of factory towns emphasizes the fall in
the birthrate, as in civilized nations a high rate of increase occurs
mainly in industrial centers.

Edmond Demolins in a clever book asks : " In what constitutes the
superiority of the Anglo-Saxon?" He finds his answer in the false
standards in French life, in defects of training and of civic and per-
sonal ideals. The desire for seats in a government bureau and for
similar safe places of routine and without initiative has been termed
in Italy " Impiegomania," the " craze for sitting down." The eagerness
to secure such positions is said to be a besetting sin of the youth of
both Italy and France. But the fault may be due to over-centraliza-

146 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

tion of government, too many officials and too little opportunity in the
provincial centers, rather than to any fault in the nature of the indi-
vidual man. Nationalization of effort, whether through socialism or
through " efficient organization," must contribute to the spread of " im-
piegomania."

If the strictures of Demolins be true in any degree, this may be the
interpretation. Inferior standards are the work of inferior men.
Great men there are in France, and these have persistently turned the
nation's face toward the light since Demolins's book was written.
War's effect has been to rob France of her due proportion of leaders,
but not to dilute or to weaken the message of those who survive. The
evolution of a race is always selective, never collective. Collective evolu-
tion among men or beasts, the movement upward or downward of the
whole as a whole, irrespective of training or selection, is never a fact.
As La Pouge has said :

It exists in rhetoric, not in truth nor in history.

Another line of criticism of France finds its ablest exponent in Dr.
Max Nordau, whose book on "Degeneration" aroused the attention
of the world some twenty years ago. Nordau finds abundant evidences
of degeneration in the art and literature of every land, all forms of
eccentricity, pessimism and perversity being regarded as such. In
France, such evidences he finds peculiarly conspicuous. The cause of
this condition he ascribes to the inherited strain of an overwrought
civilization. " Fin de siecle," " end of the century " is the catch-
phrase expressing the weariness, mental, physical and spiritual of a
race "tired before it was born." To Nordau, this theory adequately
explains all eccentricities of French literature, art, politics or juris-
prudence.

But in fact we have no knowledge of the existence of nerve-stress
inheritance. In any event, the peasantry of France have not been sub-
jected to it. Their life is hard, but not stressful ; and they suffer more
from monotony than from any form of enforced nerve-activity. The
kind of degeneration Nordau pictures is not a matter of heredity.
When not simply personal eccentricity, it is a phase of personal decay.
It finds its causes in bad habits, bad training, bad morals, or in the de-
sire to catch public attention for personal advantage. It has no per-
manence in the blood of the race. The presence on the Paris boule-
vards of eccentric painters, maudlin musicians, absinthine poets and
sensation-mongers, proves nothing as to race degeneracy. When the
fashion changes, they will change also. The "end of the century" is
past and already the fad of "strenuous life" is blowing them away.
Any man of any race withers in an atmosphere of vice, absinthe and
opium. The presence of such an atmosphere may be a disheartening
symptom, but it is not a proof of national decline. The ghastliest and

WAR SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE 147

the most depraved of Parisian sensations are invented to meet the
jaded fancy of gilded youth from across the sea.

A French cartoon more than a century old pictures a peasant
ploughing in the field, hopeless and dejected, a frilled and cynical
marquis on his back, tapping his gilded snuff-box. A recent one shows
the peasant still at the plough and equally hopeless. The marquis is
gone, but in his place sits a soldier armed to the teeth, who ought him-
self to be at the plough, while on the soldier's back rides the money-
lender, colder and more crushing than the dainty marquis, for the
money-lender is the visible exponent of the war-trader, most sinister
and most burdensome of all purveyors of implements of destruction.

For more than forty years past France has lived under the shadow
of war. The loss of Alsace-Lorraine cut a deep wound in French emo-
tions as well as in French pride. The noble attitude of the lost
provinces stimulated the natural determination for the " war of honor,"
the " war of revenge." But as time went on, it became more and more
evident that such a war could never be successful. And after the col-
lapse of the inflated militarism of Boulenger, and in view of the sordid
failure of military honor as shown in the " Dreyfus case," the people
of France began generally to doubt the righteousness as well as the wis-
dom of war against Germany. In 1913, the influential men of France
were willing to meet half way the " Friedensfreunde " of Germany.
The writer was present at Nurnberg in 1913, at a great mass meeting
in which the Baron D'Estournelles de Constant spoke warmly • and elo-
quently for international friendship. France was becoming ready to
forgive if not to forget. But this the Prussian military system in
Alsace-Lorraine would not permit. They had left the united province
of Elsass-Lothringen without citizens' rights as " Reiclisland " or Im-
perial territory, it being an " Eroberung" or conquest. They had sub-
jected it to the process of " Entw el seining" or deforeignization, by
means of trivial and burdensome " Abwelirgesetze" or special statutes
directed mainly against the use of the French language. The people of
Alsace-Lorraine, those of Germanic and French stock alike, could not
forget. And for this reason France could not. Had the united prov-
inces been given full autonomy within the German Empire and their
people been made full citizens instead of "Deutsche Zweiter Classe,"
" the nightmare of Europe,"2 the question of Alsace-Lorraine would
long ago have vanished from European politics.

It is a common saying in France, that the Frenchmen of to-day are
small because our tall ancestors were killed in our victorious wars.

The statistics behind this statement have been made the basis of a
critical study by Professor Vernon L. Kellogg. A synopsis of the re-
sults of this study is given in Social Hygiene, December, 19 14.3

2 "La cauchemar de 1 'Europe. "

s It should be clearly noted that a mere decline in stature is in itself of

148 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

little racial significance, save as an index in decline in other and more vital
regards. Tall stature has been sought for in recruiting armies and so have
qualities of boldness and dash. The decline in stature can be measured; the
other qualities can not, but we may fairly assume that all soldierly traits have
suffered together and the measure of the one serves in some degree as the
measure of all.

France has kept for over a century an interesting set of official records
which offers most valuable data for the scrutiny of the biologic student of war.
They are the records of the physical examination of all the male youths of
France as these youths reach their twentieth year of age, and offer themselves,
compulsorily, for conscription. To determine who realize the condition of
minimum height, weight, chest measurement, and the freedom from infirmity
and disease necessary for actual service, all are examined and the results re-
corded. These records show, therefore, for each year very clearly and pre-
cisely the physical status of the new generation of Frenchmen.

The minimum physical condition for actual enlistment has varied much
with the varying needs of the nation for men of war. In certain warring
periods of her history France has had to drain to the very limit her resources
in men able to bear arms. Most notably this condition obtained during the
nearly continuous twenty-year period of the Napoleonic Wars.

Louis XIV. in 1701 fixed the minimum height of soldiers at 1,624 mm.
But Napoleon reduced it in 1799 to 1,598 mm. (an inch lower) and in 1804
he lowered it two inches further, namely to 1,544 mm. It remained at this
figure until the Eestoration, when (1818) it was raised by an inch and a
quarter, that is, to 1,570 mm. In 1830, at the time of the war with Spain, it
was lowered again to 1,540 mm., and finally, in 1832 again raised to 1,560 mm.
Napoleon had also to reduce the figure of minimum age.

The death list, both in actual numbers and in percentage of all men called
to the colors, during the long and terrible wars of the Eevolution and Empire,
was enormous. And the actual results in racial modification due to the re-
moval from the breeding population of France of its able-bodied male youth,
leaving its feeble-bodied youth and senescent maturity at home to be the fathers
of the new generation, is plainly visible in the condition of the conscripts of
later years.

From the recruiting statistics, as officially recorded, it may be stated with
confidence that the average height of the men of France began notably to de-
crease with the coming of age in 1813 and on, of the young men born in the
years of the Revolutionary Wars (1792-1802), and that it continued to de-
crease in the following years with the coming of age of youths born during
the Wars of the Empire. Soon after the cessation of these terrible man-
draining wars, for the maintenance of which a great part of the able-bodied
male population of France had been withdrawn from their families and the
duties of reproduction, and much of this part actually sacrificed, a new type
of boys began to be born, boys that had in them an inheritance of stature that
carried them by the time of their coming of age in the late 1830 's and 40 's to
a height an inch greater than that of the earlier generations born in war time.
The average height of the annual conscription contingent born during the
Napoleonic Wars was about 1,625 mm.; of those born after the war it was
about 1,655 mm.

The fluctuation of the height of the young men of France had as obvious
result a steady increase and later decrease in the number of conscripts
exempted in successive wars from military service because of undersize. Im-
mediately after the Restoration, when the minimum height standard was raised
from 1,544 mm. to 1,570 mm., certain French departments were quite unable

WAR SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE 149

to complete the number of men which they ought to furnish as young soldiers
of sufficient height and vigor according to proportion of their population.

Eunning nearly parallel with the fluctuation in number of exemptions for
undersize is the fluctuation in number of exemptions for infirmities. These
exemptions increased by one third in twenty years. Exemptions for undersize
and infirmities together nearly doubled in number. But the lessening again
of the figure of exemptions for infirmities was not so easily accomplished as
was that of the figure for undersize. The influence of the Napoleonic Wars
was felt by the nation, and revealed by its recruiting statistics, for a far
longer time in its aspect of producing a racial deterioration as to vigor than in
its aspect of producing a lessening stature.

It is sometimes claimed that military selection is of biological advantage
to the race as a purifier by fire. This might indeed be true if it were the
whole population that was exposed. But it is only a certain part of it that is
so exposed, a part chosen on a basis of conditions very pertinent to racial in-
tegrity. For in the first place it is composed exclusively of men, its removal
thus tending to disturb the sex-equilibrium of the population, and to prevent
normal and advantageous sexual selection. Next, these men are all of them
of greatest sexual vigor and fecundity. Finally they are all men, none of
whom fall below and most of whom exceed a certain desirable standard of
physical vigor and freedom from infirmity and disease.

War's selection is exercised on an already selected part of the population.
And every death in war means the death of a man physically superior to at
least some other man retained in the civil population. For the actual figures
of present-day recruitment in the great European states show that of the men
gathered by conscription, as in France and Germany, or by voluntary enlist-
ment, as in Great Britain, from 40 to 50 per centum are rejected by the exam-
ining boards as unfit for service because of undersize, infirmities, or disease.
Nor is it necessary that these selected men be actually removed by death
in order that militarism may effect its deplorable racial hurt. For this re-
moval even for a comparatively short time of a considerable body of these men
from the reproductive duties of the population, and their special exposure to
injury and disease — disease, we shall see, of a particularly dangerous character
to the race — is in itself a factor sufficient to make military selection a real and
dangerous thing.

Death in war comes not always nor even most often in battle. It comes
more often from disease. And disease, until very recent years, and even now
except in the armies of certain few countries, has stricken and still strikes sol-
diers not only in war time but in the pipingest time of peace. And, what is
almost worse for the individual and decidedly so for the race, its stroke is less
often death than permanent infirmity. The constant invaliding home of the
broken-down men to join the civil population is one of the most serious dys-
genic features of militarism.

In the French army in France, Algeria, and Tunis in the thirteen-year
period 1872-1884, with a mean annual strength of 413,493 men, the mean
annual cases of typhoid were 11,640, or one typhoid case to every 36 soldiers!
In the middle of the last century the mortality among the armies on peace
footing in France, Prussia, and England was almost exactly 50 per cent,
greater than among the civil population. When parts of the armies were
serving abroad, especially if in the tropics, the mortality was greatly increased.
In 1877 the deaths from phthisis in the British army were two to one in the
civil population. And how suggestive this is, when we recall that the examin-
ing boards reject all obviously phthisis-tainted men from the recruits. The
proportion was still three to two as late as 1884. In the last war of our own

IS© THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

German officials have claimed that military service "provides a
special advantage to developing manhood in its compulsory exercise,
enforced habits of discipline, unescapable stimulus to patriotism and
general moral control." In the words of a German general, quoted by
Professor Kellogg,

military service is not injurious to the body, but healthful, not depressing to
mind and spirit, but inspiring.

Some of these alleged virtues will not appear as such under other
and perhaps more truthful names. But admitting all that may be
said, the armies exist for war ; their members " especially selected and
zealously cared for" are chosen for sacrifice, and the more worthy the
sacrifice the greater the permanent loss to the nation. When a man
of character and ability, says Professor Kellogg,

gives his life, in war, to his nation, he gives more than himself. He gives the
long line, the ever widening wedge of those who should be his descendants. In
the long run these may have greater potential value than any political end
they have helped to accomplish.

The most economical and most positive factor in human progress is good
breeding. Eace deterioration comes chiefly from its opposite, bad breeding.
Militarism encourages bad breeding.

Despite all delusive phrases to the contrary, the maintenance of an
army is a preparation for war and a step toward war and not toward peace.
Do governments, or will they, maintain this blessing of military service for
the health and eugenic advantage of their people? Is it not done solely from
the stimulus of expected war? Is it not done solely with the full expectancy
and deliberate intention of offering this particularly selected and cared for
part of the population to the exposure of wholesale mutilation and death?
This death is to come, if at all, before this extra-rigorous part of the popu-
lation has taken its part in race propagation, the precise function the per-
formance of which the race most needs from it.

Spain
The Spain of to-day is not the Spain of 1493 to whom the Pope
assigned half the seas of the world. Old Spain drooped long ago, ex-
hausted with intolerance, sea power and empire. Now that modern
Spain has been deprived of the last vestige of imperial control, she
is slowly recuperating on a foundation of industry and economy.

In 1630, the Augustinian friar, La Puente, thus wrote of the fate
of Spain:

scientifically enlightened country, the deaths from disease in camp were eight
to one from the incidents of battle. But we could do better now. And so
could France and England.

In fact, the modern humane war against disease has made life much safer
for the soldier. That is to be admitted. But there has occurred so far but
one conspicuous radical exception to the general rule of a much greater per-
centage of deaths from disease than from bullets and bayonets in war time.
That, of course, is the record of the Japanese armies in the Busso-Japanese war.
The records of the recent war in the Balkan States are like those of a century
ago.

WAR SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE 151

Against the credit for redeemed souls I set the cost of armadas and the
sacrifice of soldiers and friars sent to the Philippines. And this I count
the chief loss; for mines give silver, and forests give timber, but only Spain
gives Spaniards, and she may give so many that she may be left desolate,
and constrained to bring up strangers' children instead of her own.

Said a Spanish knight:

This is Castile, she makes men and wastes them.

Says Captain Carlos Gilman Calkins:

This sublime and terrible phrase sums up Spanish history.

Says Havelock Ellis :

Everything has happened that could happen to kill out the virile, mili-
tant, independent elements of Spanish manhood.-* War alone, if sufficiently
prolonged and severe, suffices to deplete the nation of its most vigorous stocks.
' ' The warlike nation of to-day ... is the decadent nation of to-morrow. ' '
The martial ardor and success of the Spaniards lasted for more than a thousand
years. It was only at very great cost that the Eomans subdued the Iberians
and down to the sixteenth century, the Spaniards were great soldiers. The
struggle in the Netherlands wasted their energies and then finally at Eocroy, in
the middle of the seventeenth century, the Spanish infantry that had been
counted the finest in Europe went down before the French, the military splen-
dor of Spain vanished" ("The Soul of Spain").

It is a question whether Spain suffered most from the scattering
of her strong men over seas, from her perpetual struggles in Europe or
from the Inquisition. This sinister institution was more wasteful and
more cruel in Spain than anywhere else, leading to the extinction of
independent minds and of virile intellectuality.

In Spain as in France, the continuance of peace with the cessation
of the loss and waste over seas is bringing a financial and industrial
recuperation, which must be slowly followed by a physical and moral
advance. It is claimed that Spain now enjoys " an intellectual and
artistic renaissance that will make her memorable when her heroes are
forgotten."

Germany

Germany suffered perhaps scarcely less than France from the wars
of Louis XIV. and of the two Napoleons. German writers, however,
have been much less frank than the French and also less lucid in dis-
cussing their national disabilities. They have given but scanty records
of the racial waste their wars have involved. Moreover, the organiza-
tion of modern Germany, a socialist state under military domination,
has tended to minimize the visible distinctions among racial strains.
Every man has his place. It is not easy to fall below one's class, cor-
respondingly difficult to rise. Universal compulsory education, tech-
nical as well as academic, saves even the feeble from absolute incom-
4 In this connection, Mr. Ellis extolls the beauty, grace and spirit of the
Spanish women and suggests the theory that so far as feminine traits go, there
has been no reversal of selection. "The women of Spain," he thinks, "are on
the average superior to the men."

152 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

petence. The three duties of the citizen, " Soldat sein; Steuer; Mund
halten" (be a soldier; pay taxes; hold your tongue), are simple and
do not encourage initiative. Universal conscription binds the indivi-
dual into subjection to the central power. He has the choice between
docile acceptance of a fate not wholly intolerable, and revolt with
probable misery or death. Forms of insurance against poverty, unem-
ployment or old age guard him against total failure. The difficulties
which beset the common man in trying to enter the "learned pro-
letariat" of the universities or the sublimated caste of the army deter
all but the most gifted from ambition for advancement. Only real
genius for scholarship or for money-getting can break the bonds of
caste. This system minimizes the miseries of poverty, while at the
same time it checks initiative in the mass of the people.

In general, it subordinates individual freedom to a prearranged
discipline of efficiency. This has culminated in the development of the
army and navy. To those who regard the dominance of militarism
as a survival of savagery, the recrudescence of military ideals in Ger-
many seems one of the saddest results of modern scientific advance.5

The victory over France in 1871 has had the effect of intensifying
the military spirit of Germany, and of making its extension appear an
integral part of the nation's commercial and industrial growth. This
fact operates toward final disaster, for whether successful or not in the
struggle with the allied powers, the aggregate result will be of the
nature of terrible defeat. When the record is summed up it may ap-
pear that Germany rather than France is the final sufferer from the
Franco-Prussian war and the "blood and iron" policy of Bismarck
and his successors.

England

In England, before the Great War, one often heard complaints of
the decadence of the nation. This is a habit of the British press in the
summer months in the intervals between sensations. The yeomanry
were disappearing. The slums of London, Manchester, Liverpool were
centers of sweat-shops and child labor, of wasting overwork, of infant
mortality, and malnutrition, of sodden drunkenness and helpless old age.
And in the higher classes, we were told of " flannelled oafs " and heed-
less sportsmen, men to whom a cricket match was of more worth than
the conservation of empire. Much of this complaint was complacent
self-criticism, a favorite amusement with the wealthy unemployed of
England. Some of it had the political purpose of discrediting the
government, but behind it all rests a certain neglected residuum of
truth.

Great Britain has accomplished much in the last century, and much
s " To glorify the state is to glorify war, for there is no collective opera-
tion which can be so effectively achieved as war, and none which more conspicu-
ously illustrates the sacrifice of the individual to the nation" (Havelock Ellis).

WAR SELECTION IN WESTERN EUROPE 153

of this has permanent value to the world. She has permeated its
thoughts, modified its action and strengthened its character as no other
race or nation ever could.

In the Norse mythology, it was the Mitgard serpent which reached
around the world, swallowed its own tail and held the world together.
England has been the Mitgard-Serpent of history She has made this
a British planet. Her young men have gone into all regions where
freemen can live. They have built up free institutions held together
by the British cement of cooperation and compromise. She has carried
her Pax Britannica, the British peace, with its semblance of order and
decency, to all barbarous lands, and she has mixed with it enough of
freedom to give her rule permanence. She has made it possible for
Englishmen to trade and to prey with savages. "What does he know
of England, who only England knows?" For the activities of the
Greater Britain, of which we of the republic of America form an in-
tegral part, are greater by far than those confined to the little island
from which the British people set forth to inherit the earth.

What has it all cost? Eor such great race exertion must take
some toll in race exhaustion. This loss will not appear in the decline
in ability of statesmen or scholars. It means a decline in their num-
bers, and the relative increase in numbers of those types of men whom
empire can not use.

Much of the force of England has gone out to America and to
those self-governing commonwealths no longer to be called colonies,
which have spread British traditions over forceful young democracies,
who have escaped Britain's greatest evil, the legalization of privilege.
But a man is a man, wherever he may live, and we can hardly count
the occupation of Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa as
loss to the motherland.

But with India the case is not so clear. Men have asked, What
has Britain done for India? We may admit that she has done much,
and her work, improving with experience, grows more helpful and
humane as time goes on. What has India done for Britain? This is
a parallel problem little considered, and there is much harm mixed with
the good which enters into the calculation. For India has enriched
England — a small part of England engaged in overseas trade. The
men whom India has made wealthy, men like the Sassoons of the opium
trade are not, as a rule, those who share their fortunes with the
people, taxed to make these fortunes possible. India has furnished em-
ployment for thousands of young Englishmen (" outdoor relief for sons
of good families") and it has furnished graves for thousands of British
yeomen and British gentlemen, men of spirit whom Britain could ill
afford to spare.

A British officer once said to me,
I have seen men who might have been makers of empire die like flies in India.

VOL. LXXXVII. — 11.

i54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The methods by which Great Britain, in haphazard fashion, built
up her imperial domain have not always been those which conscientious
British can defend. They have brought Great Britain into disrepute
and they have been used as precedents by rival nations who make no
pretense to British scruples. The Great War in Europe has been called
the "nemesis of Lord Beaconsfield." Were it not for the imperial
chicanery of Lord Beaconsfield's period of unscrupulous glory, the
Balkans might never have been fanned into the flames which set all
Europe on fire.

England is very rich, if you look at her from above, but her wealth
through tradition and through legalization of privilege and abuse is in
very few hands. The landholding dukes and the lords of commerce
and finance hold the resources of England in their grasp. One fourth
the population of Great Britain hold virtually nothing at all. One tenth
of them are persistently submerged, and with the waste and havoc of
the present war, another tenth will be found to have fallen with them.
Says Franklin:

The profits of no trade can ever be equal to the expense of compelling it
by force of armies.

But the profits of the trade obtained through compulsion go to the

undeserving few. The cost of compulsion in blood and in gold falls

on the body of the nation.

The governments of the world take the risks of imperialism. The
great trading, mining, and exploiting corporations receive the gains.
In almost every large transaction of any government, there is this con-
stant source of confusion. What the nation expends should be bal-
anced by what the nation receives. It is not enough to estimate "our
outgoes" on the one hand and "our receipts" on the other when the
outgoes are drains on the public funds, and the receipts are private
gains. This fallacy of administration may be found on every hand in
connection with almost every item of public expenditure. Public ex-
penditure turned to private gain is the very essence of privilege, and
privilege wherever found is the betrayer of justice, the antithesis of
democracy. Where privilege exists it violates the principle of equality
before the law. In Imperial exploitation a thousand little streams lead
from home activities to swell the wealth drawn from overseas.

We admit, says Professor J. Arthur Thomson,
that wars have been necessary and righteous — especially necessary, and that
they may be so still, but this opinion does not affect the fact that prolonged
war in which a nation takes part is bound to impoverish the breed, since the
character of the breed always depends on the men who are left. The only
thing a nation dies of is lack of men and is there not disquieting evidence of
the increase of incapables? It is said (in Great Britain) that we can not
relax one spine of our national belligerence since we must, at all cost, uphold
our national supremacy, having all these teeming millions to feed. But is not
this, in part at least, a vicious circle. Is it not preoccupation with militarism
that is responsible for keeping up our national misery? With a little money
saved off belligerence, what might not be done towards social improvement?

TEE PSYCHOLOGY OF WAR 155

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WAR

By Professor G. T. W. PATRICK

UNIVERSITY OF IOWA, IOWA CITY

FROM the flood of writings called out by the war in Europe, a few-
things have become fairly clear. For instance, it is evident that
this is the most costly and the most tragic of all the wars of history,
that it has proceeded from the least apparent causes, and that it has come
in the face of new and powerful forces making for peace.

But these facts, if such they be, reveal a situation which to the
sociologist is more than puzzling, it is amazing. If, as Norman Angell
has shown, modern wars are wholly futile so far as the possibility of
bringing any kind of gain to the victorious nation is concerned; if war
is contrary to the spirit of the age, which is no longer martial, but indus-
trial, commercial and humanitarian ; if the contrast between the brutal-
ity of war and the culture and refinement of the age is so great that
war has become grotesque and anomalous ; if the present war is the out-
growth of political rivalries which have largely lost their significance
owing to the fact that nearly all present vital human interests have
widened out beyond the mere political boundaries of the state and be-
come international in their scope; and if, finally, the nations in order
to carry on the war are assuming a debt so crushing that posterity can
not exist unless the debt is repudiated in whole or in part, why, then, it
would appear that the whole European world has gone insane.

But the student of history and of psychology will look at the matter
in quite a different way. He will see that the history of mankind for
thousands of years has been a history of incessant warfare and that the
new economic and industrial conditions which have made war irrational
are not more than about one hundred years old, while the human
brain is practically the same old brain of our fathers and forefathers,
deeply stamped with ancestral traits and primitive instincts, which can
not thus suddenly be outgrown. It is society which has suddenly
changed, not the units of society.

Ever since the war began, sociologists, economists, philosophers and
political theorists have tried their hands at explaining the causes of the
war and with small success. Its roots must be sought in psychology
and anthropology.

The anthropologist and historian will review the situation some-
what as follows: The rivalries between nations with their mutual sus-
picion, distrust and hatred leading to the clash of arms is the survival

156 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of early conflicts between primitive social groups. These conflicts
were incessant in all parts of the world wherever there were virile and
progressive races and the cause of the conflicts was the natural de-
sire of the stronger to exploit the weaker, it being always easier and
more attractive to gain sustenance by robbery than by labor. Further-
more these incessant conflicts were in a high degree beneficial to so-
cial development, resulting in the extermination of the unfit and the
survival of the strong and the brave. Within the primitive groups
there was some degree of cooperation, sympathy, mutual helpful-
ness, regard for life and property, together with some observance of
" law " and " order " and " right " and " wrong/' this primitive organiza-
tion resulting perhaps from the rules and regulations imposed by a
victorious group upon a conquered group. Between the groups there
was fear, suspicion, hatred, with no respect for life or property.
Might was right. Within the group certain actions were stigmatized as
wrong and were punished, such for instance as murder and theft. But
between members of hostile groups these acts were praiseworthy.

The modern constitutional state is the historical development of
the primitive group. Within the groups, now called nations, the upper
classes, nobles, lords, officers, plutocrats, still to a greater or less ex-
tent exploit the lower classes, as the victors did the vanquished, and be-
tween the groups there is still the old rivalry, suspicion and distrust,
while the taking of life and property is still praiseworthy and is not
called murder and theft, but war.

But meanwhile within the political state there have grown up two
new communities — one moral and the other industrial and commercial,
and gradually, while the old bounds of the political state have persisted,
the moral and industrial states have expanded till they have burst the
bounds of the political state and become international and world wide.
A cosmopolitan conscience has replaced the old group conscience and
moral obligations extend to all mankind. In time of war between the
nations, however, under the transport of patriotism, the old group
consciousness revives, with its deep-seated instinct of pugnacity, and
with it is revived the old group conscience and the ancient hatred and
suspicion, and the ancient desire to exterminate the rival group. Hence
the reversion in time of war to primitive standards of conduct.

But under the completely transformed conditions of society in
modern times, the original raison d'etre of war has ceased to be. Vic-
tory is no longer to the physically stronger and mentally braver. The
vanquished are no longer exterminated or enslaved. The victors lose
perhaps as many of their fighters as the vanquished and the disabled are
vastly more in number than the dead and both the dead and the dis-
abled are the flower of the nation's youth. Meanwhile, the monstrous
cost of a modern war, which impoverishes the nation and its posterity,

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WAR 157

the paralysis of a great and intricate system of world commerce and
industrial international relations, the colossal destruction of wealth,
the irreparable damage to progress and civilization, the impoverished
physical heredity of a whole people, the affront to moral ideals slowly
and painfully achieved, the untold burden of pain and woe and human
suffering in desolated homes far from the field of battle, all combine to
make war repulsive and repugnant to modern sense. It no longer cul-
tivates manly virtues but for the most part only machination and
mechanical ingenuity.

It is probable that all the benefits which a warring nation hopes to
gain by victory are in modern times illusory, or at least they are so far
illusory that they are almost if not wholly confined to the circum-
stances of some hypothetical future war. For instance, a great nation
demands the control of some celebrated strait or narrows, so that it may
have an outlet for its vast exports — an open way to the sea, although
in time of peace that nation already has the enjoyment of the freest use
of that strait. In other words, were it not for some hypothetical future
war, that nation has already the open way to the sea which it demands.
Another great nation desires a place in the sun, the freedom of the seas,
or a fair share of colonies in distant lands, the colonies being desired for
purposes of trade and colonization of its emigrants. But in time of
peace this same nation extends its trade by leaps and bounds to every
corner of the earth freely and has the utmost freedom of the seas, and
sends its emigrants in great numbers to prosperous North and South
America. It is only in time of war that the opportunities for trade of
that country are limited or that it would profit by having its emigrants
under political control. Colonies again in distant parts of the earth
may be desired for coaling stations but it is only in time of war that
the ships of a nation can not coal freely anywhere.

Still another country desires to retain or regain disputed territory,
although in time of peace probably no citizen or group of citizens in its
own or in the coveted territory would have its opportunities in any
way enlarged or its condition benefited by mere political transference.
The acquisition of territory is, again, a common excuse for war, but
it has never been shown that, under our modern conditions, the citizens
of larger states are any happier or wiser or wealthier than the citizens
of smaller states. Thus we have the vicious circle; war exists because
of war.

War being thus outgrown and wholly irrational and having no longer
any possible purpose except to perpetuate itself, and being opposed to
the spirit of the age and discouraged by the powerful peace movements
of the day and directly adverse to the all-controlling and all-absorbing
industrial and commercial interests of the world, it would seem that
it must soon disappear from the face of the earth. But strangely

158 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

enough, such an outcome, happy as it might be, is made probable neither
by the study of history, psychology nor present political tendencies. To
the psychologist, indeed, it appears that the whole trend of social move-
ments is in a direction favorable to the perpetuation of war.

One hundred years ago there were bright visions of universal peace.
War, it was believed, was an iniquitous invention of evil and mischievous
men, interfering with the peace and prosperity of the world. Free
trade between nations and free competition between men were to in-
augurate a reign of universal peace and prosperity. The function of
government was to be limited to a minimum. A sort of universal fra-
ternity, pan-humanism or internationalism was to take the place of
fratricidal strife.

This dream has been poorly realized. Free competition has not
worked in practise, and the emphasis is being put more and more upon
the functions of the state. To be sure many would substitute " society "
for the state and, indeed, socialists and Utopianists still look forward to
a " new basis of civilization " in which a pleasure economy is to replace
the old pain economy, when surplus energy, equality of opportunity, in-
crease of food, short working hours, good sanitation, good housing, etc.,
will release starving human faculties, resulting in human culture, moral-
ity, economic equilibrium and finally in a " denationalized fraternal hu-
manity." Thus with the disappearance of poverty the last obstacle will
be removed to upward human progress and universal peace.

It is the purpose of this paper to point out some of the psychological
obstacles to the realization of this ideal. Meanwhile it is obvious that
the political obstacles are equally great.

At the present time the trend of political events is precisely in the
opposite direction. With the unification of Italy in 1859, there awoke
the new spirit of nationalism and the revival of patriotism. In 1861,
the American Union, fired by the same spirit, resisted disunion. Then
followed the unification of Germany, the awakening of the Slavs, the
expansion of Great Britain.

Instead of the anticipated free trade between nations, each country
by means of protective tariffs drew the mantle of self-sufficiency more
closely around itself. In place of the expected pan-humanism a new
patriotism has everywhere sprung up. Add to this another fact, per-
haps correlated with it, that in the last hundred years a new impulse of
cosmic energy, or something of the kind, seems to have flowed into the
motor nerves of human beings. There is tremendous activity in the
form of striving. The gospel of striving which dates from Lessing and
Fichte, and which found its poetic expression in Goethe, is the gospel
of modern life. It exhibits itself in intense desire for expansion, for
self-expression. It has produced stupendous results in scientific in-
vention, discovery, industrial and commercial expansion. Then fol-

TEE PSYCEOLOGY OF WAR 159

lows the desire for political expansion and the occasion for war is at
hand. The gospel of striving inevitably leads to the gospel of strife.
While to a superficial observer the whole tendency of modern
thought is in the direction of universal peace, to the more careful ob-
server it is all in the direction of war. It was not even necessary that
the voice of Nietzsche with his gospel of the will to power should be
reechoed through every land, nor that the new philosophy of Pragmat-
ism should come forward to teach us that nothing succeeds like success.
But perhaps the war in Europe is itself the best witness to the fatal
political obstacles which stand in the way of these dreams of peace, for
it presents the astonishing spectacle of the greatest war in the world's
history proceeding from the least apparent causes and in the face of the
most powerful forces working for peace. That such a colossal war
should occur under circumstances so adverse to war would seem to indi-
cate that it was made necessary by some tremendous issues, either moral,
religious, economic or commercial.

But strangely enough no such issues are apparent. There were no
great moral issues involved, as in the American Civil War, no great re-
ligious questions as in the crusades and the wars of the Eeformation, no
great monetary crises, as in some of the Italian and Roman wars. Starv-
ation has sometimes led tribes or nations to war, but starvation threat-
ened none of the present warring countries. On the contrary they were
all in a highly prosperous economic condition. Wealth, prosperity, com-
fort and luxuries abounded. "Never since the world began," says
Albert Bushnell Hart, " was trade so broad and profitable as in the year
1913." The total value of international commerce was in that year
$42,000,000,000. The total value of German exports and imports com-
bined was $5,000,000,000; and of English, $6,900,000,000. Germany's
actual and proportional trade was increasing from year to year. Eng-
land was exporting goods to Germany valued at $292,000,000, and im-
porting goods from Germany valued at $394,000,000 yearly. The en-
trance of Italy upon the war revealed only too clearly that war has its
roots in psychological causes .more than in great political or economic
issues or in heroic defence of the fatherland.

Does this strange situation admit of any explanation ? Or must we
say that there are forces at work in social evolution which we do not un-
derstand— that it is dangerous for man to meddle too much with his own
destiny, and that out of these terrible wars some great good may come
in ways unknown? This question may not be answered, but at any
rate some light is thrown upon the situation by the psychologist. In
all the many books and articles that have recently appeared on the
causes of war in general, and the European war in particular, there is a
noticeable failure to take due account of the psychological factors in the
situation.

i6o THE POPE LAB SCIENCE MONTHLY

As a single typical illustration let us consider the illuminating
articles by Mr. G. Lowes Dickinson entitled "The "War and the Way
Out/' published in recent numbers of the Atlantic Monthly.

Mr. Dickinson traces the causes of war to the artificial rivalries be-
tween those abstract and unreal beings called states, rivalries which are
wholly unshared by the real men, women and children who compose the
state. The actual citizens of the state desire to live in peace and quiet,
to till their land, sell their produce, and buy their necessities, and are
but little interested in the question whether the shores of the Baltic
shall belong to Russia or Germany or whether Constantinople shall be
controlled by one nation or another. Nor indeed do these political rela-
tions make any material difference to the people themselves ; they make a
difference only to that idol, the abstract state, and then only in time of
war. The remedy, therefore, is to be found, first, in the cessation of these
international rivalries, second, in the international control of armaments,
and third, in the elective allegiance of disputed territor}r, such for
instance, as Poland, Alsace and Lorraine. The cause of war being thus
removed, the peace-loving, law-abiding and land-tilling citizens will live
in happiness and prosperity.

This program is most captivating and no one can doubt that if inter-
national rivalries could be prevented in this way, the immediate cause
of many wars would be removed. But the greater number of the wars
of history have not been between rival states but have been wars of con-
quest and civil wars and the real causes of them all lie deeper than in any
political relations, deeper than the love of conquest, deeper than in any
economic or commercial complications. All these alike are the occasions
and not the causes of war.

Mr. Dickinson regards the state as an abstraction, in a way unreal,
and not having necessarily as its interests the interests of the real people
who compose the state. This is true but Mr. Dickinson's constructive
program rests, if not upon an abstraction such as the political state, nev-
ertheless upon a myth, namely the myth of the peace-loving, law-abiding
and land-tilling citizen, who, if opportunity offers, will till his land and
buy and sell his goods in peace and prosperity. This quiet, peace-lov-
ing and land-tilling citizen, if not quite a myth, is at any rate not typical
of the modern citizen. The typical man of to-day has not, to be sure,
any conscious desire for war nor any wish to violate the laws of the
state, but he is an exceedingly complex product of biological evolution,
of modern civilization and of social forces, and in his own brain may
perhaps be found the real powder-magazine responsible for war. The
man of to-day is a high-tension being, with a highly organized brain,
possessing an immense amount of potential energy in a state of rather
unstable equilibrium, the product of an evolution which has discovered
the survival value of certain peculiar mental qualities. Beneath this

TEE P8YCE0L0GY OF WAR 161

superior brain, and sometimes perilously near the surface, there lies a
vast network of inherited dispositions connecting the man of to-day with
his warlike savage ancestors.

In place, then, of this unreal social unit, the peace-loving, land-
tilling citizen, we have the real man, the restless and aggressive man,
who loves the city rather than the country, frequents the stock exchange,
the theater and the moving-picture show, likes to speculate and gamble,
is fond of rapid transit by means of steam or trolley car, automobile or
aircraft, passes much of his time indoors, reading, writing, planning
and contriving, delves into new problems of philosophy, science and
invention, exploits new lands and new routes of trade, invents new guns
and new explosives, devises new methods of rapid communication and
transportation, is addicted to the use of tobacco and alcohol and strong
coffee and tea, is subject to chronic fatigue, has a tendency to the use
of poisonous drugs and to insanity and suicide and small families.

This is our typical man of to-day and beside him and living in close
proximity to him, there is another class, likewise neither peace-loving
nor land-tilling, namely, the class of dependents, delinquents, and de-
fectives.

This then is the material we have to work with, and now, given this
material, let us suppose that international rivalries should cease, that our
colossal modern armies and navies should disappear and that the vast
number of men and the enormous amounts of capital involved in military
armaments should be turned into productive channels, and let us sup-
pose further that the burden of taxes hitherto required for armies, navies,
and pensions should be lifted and with it lifted also the fear of invasion,
■ — what then would happen ? Something very different, no doubt, from
that condition of idyllic happiness and peace which one infers from the
arguments of the pacificists.

The fact is, the causes of war lie much deeper than in any political
conditions. They are to be sought in the constitution of the human
mind. The question, therefore, is a profoundly difficult one and de-
mands a different method of approach. It must be approached from the
biological and psychological as well as the sociological point of view.
The following attempt to approach the subject from its psychological
side is submitted in the belief that the facts here presented, while no
doubt partial and incomplete, are facts which the student of the causes
and remedies of war will have to consider.

To understand the psychology of war, it is necessary to go back and
trace the actual history of the development of the human being. Here
lies the trouble with all our schemes of pacificism and all our Utopias and
all our pleasure and peace economies. They deal with an ideal human
being, not with actual men. Sociologists will make futile contributions
to human progress except as they keep in close touch with the facts of
human evolution and of human history.

1 62 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Some ages ago Nature, as we may say, made a great and wonderful
discovery, that of the survival value of intelligence, supplemented later
by the discovery of the survival value of sympathy and cooperation. It
was no longer, thereafter, a question of tooth and claw, of swift foot,
strong arm and warm fur ; it was a question of the manufacture and use
of weapons and tools and clothes and houses. Psychologically, it was a
question of the development of certain new and wonderful mental traits,
those of cunning and dexterity, attention and concentration, abstraction,
analysis and invention. But these required a large brain, and Nature
therefore produced an erect, top-heavy animal, who acquired speech and
called himself man. Physically this animal ceased further development.
He needed nothing but a large and ever larger brain and a dexterous
hand, and, finally, the dexterous hand also was scarcely needed, but brain
and brain alone. The brain, however, required nourishment and a cer-
tain physical support, hence stomach, heart, lungs, and a circulatory
system must needs be retained after some fashion, but the main intent
was to develop brain and only brain.

This process is now at its height. Nature we may say is more than
ever elated at her discovery of the survival value of intelligence and this
discovery is being worked for all that it is worth. There is no limit,
it would seem, to the power of the mind. Other animal species are
no longer feared. They are not even needed as servants. Electricity
can be made to do all things better than the horse. Against intelligence
the elements have no longer any power. Storm and lightning and flood
are now only interesting episodes. Night is no longer a harbinger of
evil but under the glare of the electric light a joy and great delight.
Heat and cold are no longer to be considered. Steam and the electric
current turn winter into benign summer and night into day. Neither is
distance to be reckoned with any more. It is short-circuited by steam,
gasoline and electricity.

Especially in continental Europe, in England and America, during
the past fifty years, has the march of mind gone forward with dizzy-like
rapidity. More than ever has man become master. More than ever
are the higher brain centers the only significant organs in the body.
Less than ever has Nature found it necessary for her immediate needs to
care for stomach, heart and lungs, or muscle and reproductive system.
It is mind that counts and mind alone. Nineteenth and twentieth cen-
tury man has become a high-power efficiency machine combining a mar-
velous capacity for thought with an unconquerable force of will, but
working inevitably under high pressure and dangerous tension.

A gigantic system of wireless telegraphy is not invented and ex-
tended over the whole face of the earth in a few years (one might almost
say in a few months) without thought and effort. Dreadnoughts and
superdreadnoughts, mortars and machine-guns, dirigibles and aeroplanes,

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WAR 163

superb and matchless systems of military organization are not perfected
without thought and effort. Magnificent cities, fed by a network of
smoothly running railroads, are not built without thought and effort.
Improved systems of agriculture forcing the earth to produce fourfold
more abundantly are not devised without thought and effort. Miracu-
lously wonderful cinematographic machines are not invented without
thought and effort, nor without thought and effort is every moving thing
from the Arctic to the Antarctic in nature and in art photographed and
brought in its living and moving similitude to our eyes. Large conti-
nental cities are not freed from graft and brought under elaborately
perfect systems of municipal government without thought and effort.
Great national and international systems of organized labor are not per-
fected without thought and effort. The day laborer does not hold him-
self hour by hour and day by day and month by month to his highly
specialized and fatiguing work without thought and effort.

These illustrations could be extended indefinitely. In the work of
scientific research, in philosophical study, in industrial and mechanical
invention, in the building of great systems of schools and universities,
in the management of great commercial and industrial enterprises, in
journalism, literature and art, we see exhibitions of ceaseless thought and
tireless effort. It is an age of hard work and almost without exception
it is mental work of a highly specialized kind and involves stress of the
highest and most recently developed brain centers.

It was inevitable that disaster of some kind, or a reaction of some
kind, should follow upon this high-tension and one-sided life. Some-
thing was bound to snap and something has snapped. Nature has over-
reached herself in her new discovery of the survival value of intelligence.
Intelligence, to be sure, has a survival value of almost limitless degree,
but intelligence is, as it happens, linked inseparably to a brain, a highly
complex, delicate and unstable mechanism, which was originally intended
as a motor center for hand, foot and somatic muscles, and not as a center
for thought and sustained effort. Furthermore, the brain itself is or-
ganically dependent upon stomach, heart and lungs, whose parallel de-
velopment Nature in her haste to develop her new discovery has neg-
lected.

The form that the reaction has taken in this case is the form which
the psychologist sees it must inevitably take, namely, the temporary
reassertion of primitive human impulses. The world has had a think-
ing spasm of unusual severity ; it must have a fling. In America, where
conditions were much the same as in Europe, the reaction has taken
the milder form of amusement crazes. The dance, the moving-picture
show, the automobile, the diamond and the gridiron have helped to re-
lieve the tension. The dancing mania, which has swept over the whole
western continent like an obsession, is a good illustration of Nature's

1 64 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

effort to restore the equilibrium of brain centers. Dancing is a pastime
as ancient as war itself. It involves none but the very oldest brain
paths. It depends upon the very simplest and most primitive form of
reaction, carrying us back to the infancy of man and allowing us to revel
in the old and racially familiar memories. It affords complete rest and
relaxation and tends quickly to establish equilibrium.

To those who do not understand this law of psychological compensa-
tion and who have been accustomed to regard the world as getting very
serious and civilized and dignified, intent on moral and social improve-
ment, there is something almost as ludicrous in the spectacle of dancing
America as there is something pathetic and tragic in that of warring
Europe. For in Europe, where the temper of the people lends itself less
readily to these lighter forms of release, the reaction has taken the
form of a return to most primitive bloodshed. Consequently the war
came to us as a distinct shock. One heard everywhere the comment —
"It is impossible. I thought we had got far beyond all that." The
culture of Germany, France and England was so high that it was un-
believable that these people should suddenly develop hate in its most in-
tense form with a frenzied desire to kill one another. To the psycholo-
gist, however, it seems not unreasonable. It is a temporary reversion
to completely primitive instincts restoring the balance to an over-
wrought social brain.

Before the war we heard everywhere of "unrest," a great spiritual
unrest. But the significance of this unrest was not understood. It
was not due to untoward social or economic conditions, for the world has
never seen conditions so favorable for the greatest happiness of the
greatest number. Its cause rather was to be found in an asymmetrical
development of human personality, too much thought, too much effort,
too much " efficiency," and not enough balance, not enough mere somatic
vitality. In England this unrest displayed itself as a high degree of
social irritability. On the stage it appeared as a carping criticism of
social life and social institutions; in literature as a hysterical pursuit
of new Utopias ; in political life as jarring rumors of civil war.

In Eussia just before the outbreak of the war the streets of Petrograd
were barricaded by strikers and progressives jealous of real or fancied
wrongs. Instantly when war was declared a great inward "peace"
settled down upon the warring nations. The restless soul ceased in a
moment its feverish upward striving after new inventions, new philoso-
phy, new science and new thought. The brain centers were short-cir-
cuited. The social mind sank to the old level. It lived again in the
old primitive emotions and the old racially familiar scenes, in pictures
of bloodshed and rapine, in memories of the drum-beat and of the tread
of marching armies. To be sure there was sorrow and suffering and
anxious faces and hunger and hardship and countless woes but these

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WAR 165

are old friends to the human mind. The nation was at war but it was
at rest. A certain strange harmony settled down upon the people. The
war was hardly two months old when we began to hear of a new Eussia,
a new France, a new England and a new Germany, all regenerated by
the baptism of blood, full of high aspirations, purified visions and noble
resolutions.

To those acquainted with the psychology of play and sport, war is
more easily understood. The high tension of the modern work-a-day
life must be periodically relieved by a return to primitive forms of
behavior, as in football, baseball, hunting, fishing, horseracing, the circus,
the arena, the cock-fight, the prize-fight, and the countless forms of
outing. Man must once again use his arms, his legs, his larger
muscles, his lower brain centers. He must live again in the open, by
the camp-fire, by the stream, in the forest. He must kill something, be
it fish or bird or deer, as his ancestors did in times remote. Thereafter
come peace and harmony and he is ready once more to return to the
life of the intellect and will, to the life of " efficiency."

Periodically, however, man seems to need a deeper plunge into the
primeval and this is war. War has always been the release of nations
from the tension of progress. Man is a fighting animal; at first from
necessity, afterwards from habit. In former centuries when the contrast
between peace and war was not so great, it was undertaken with more
ease and less apology, almost as a matter of course. Life was less intense
then and the reaction of war less extreme. ISTow in the face of an
advanced public sentiment, of peace societies and arbitration boards,
the tension has to become very great, the potential very high before the
spark is struck and, when this happens, we have the ludicrous spectacle
of the warring nations apologizing and explaining to an astonished world.

War, therefore, seems to act as a kind of katharsis. The warring
nation is purified by war and thereafter with a spirit chastened and
purged enters again upon the upward way to attain still greater heights
of progress. In strictness, however, the katharsis figure is misleading.
The situation is not one of gross emotions to be purged away, as Aristotle
implied. It is rather merely a question of fatigue and rest. Our de-
mand for an ever-increasing efficiency has brought too great a strain upon
those cerebral functions associated with the peculiar mental powers
upon which efficiency depends. Efficiency demands great powers of
(attention, concentration, analysis, self-control, inhibition, sustained
effort, all of which are extremely fatiguing and demand frequent in-
tervals of rest and relaxation. When this rest and relaxation are lack-
ing, we may always expect cataclysmic reactions which shall restore the
balance.

In war, society sinks back to the primitive type, the primitive mortal
combat of man with man, the primitive religious conception of God as

166 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

God of battles, and the primitive morality of right as might. It brings
rest to the higher brain centers, it brings social relaxation, it brings
release from the high tension which is the condition of progress. After
the war, almost in a day, the nation resumes its accustomed moral
standards, just as the debauchee returns to his daily life chastened and
subdued.

If the theory of war here suggested is correct, it might be inferred
that in modern times, as life becomes more rapid and more strenuous
and the brain tension greater, wars would become more and more neces-
sary to relieve the tension and restore equilibrium. It is true that with
the heightening of mental life, relaxation of some kind becomes more
and more imperative. But with the growth of intelligence the absurdity,
futility, and unreason of war as a means of settling disputes becomes
more and more evident and with the increase of culture and refinement
and of Christian love and sympathy the spectacle of war becomes more
and more anomalous and grotesque, so that we have in modern times
powerful counteracting forces — forces which are still further augmented
by the vigorous humanitarian movements of the times. The motives
which make for peace are so great and the absurdity of war so apparent
that the fact that wars continue quite as general and quite as frequent
as in former times shows that the deep-lying psychological forces which
lead to war are more powerful than ever.

In case some way is found to prevent international rivalries, if war
between nations is made less and less possible by schemes of international
arbitration and conciliation, why, then, it is probable, unless we also
discover some method of diminishing the mental tension of our present
mode of life, that "unrest," social irritability and probably civil wars
will increase. Professor James was wholly right when he hoped for
some substitute for war.

The fact is that it does not take a very careful reader of the human
mind to see that all the Utopias and all the socialistic schemes are based
on a mistaken motion of the nature of this mind.

In fact, it is by no means sure that what man wants is peace, and
quiet and tranquility. That is too close to ennui, which is his greatest
dread. What man wants is not peace, but a battle. He must pit his
force against someone or something. Every language is most rich in
synonyms for battle, war, contest, conflict, quarrel, combat, fight. Ger-
man children play all day long with their toy soldiers. Our sports take
the form of contests in football, baseball, and hundreds of others. Prize-
fights, dog-fights, cock-fights have pleased in all ages. When Eome for
a season was not engaged in real war, Claudius staged a sea-fight for the
delectation of an immense concourse, in which 19,000 gladiators were
compelled to take a tragic part, so that the ships were broken to pieces
and the waters of the lake were red with blood.

TEE PSYCEOLOGY OF WAR 167

You may perhaps recall Professor James's astonishing picture of his
visit to a Chautauqua. Here he found modern culture at its best, no
poverty, no drunkenness, no zymotic diseases, no crime, no police, only
polite and refined and harmless people. Here was a middle-class para-
dise, kindergarten, and model schools, lectures and classes, and music,
bicycling and swimming, and culture and kindness and elysian peace.
But at the end of a week, he came out into the real world, and he said,

Ouf ! what a relief! Now for something primordial and savage, even though
it were as bad as an Armenian massacre, to set the balance straight again.
This order is too tame, this culture too second-rate, this goodness too uninspir-
ing. This human drama, without a villain or a pang; this community so refined
that ice-cream soda-water is the utmost offering it can make to the brute
animal in man; this city simmering in the tepid lakeside sun; this atrocious
harmlessness of all things, — I can not abide with them.

What men want, he says, is something more precipitous, something
with more zest in it, with more adventure. Nearly all the Utopias paint
the life of the future as a kind of giant Chautauqua, in which every man
and woman is at work, all are well fed, satisfied and cultivated. But
as man is now constituted he would probably find such a life flat, stale
and unprofitable.

Man is not originally a working animal. Civilization has imposed
work upon man, and if you work him too hard, he will quit work and
go to war. Nietzsche says man wants two things — danger and play.
War represents danger.

It follows that all our social Utopias are wrongly conceived. They
are all based on a theory of pleasure economy. But history and evolu-
tion show that man has come up from the lower animals through a pain
economy. He has struggled up — fought his way up through never-
ceasing pain and effort and struggle and battle. The Utopias picture a
society in which man has ceased to struggle. He works his eight hours
a day — everybody works — and he sleeps and enjoys himself the other
hours. But man is not a working animal; he is a fighting animal.
The Utopias are ideal — but they are not psychological. The citizens for
such an ideal social order are lacking. Human beings will not serve.

Our present society tends more and more in its outward form in time
of peace toward the Chautauqua plan, but meanwhile striving and pas-
sion burn in the brain of the human units, till the time comes when
they find this insipid life unendurable. They resort to amusement
crazes, to narcotic drugs, to political strife, to epidemics of crime and
finally to war. The alcohol question well illustrates the tendencies we
are pointing out. Science and hygiene have at last shown beyond all
question that alcohol, whether in large or smaller doses, exerts a dam-
aging effect upon both mind and body. It lessens physical and mental
efficiency, shortens life and encourages social disorder. In spite of this
fact and what is still more amazing, in spite of the colossal effort now

168 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

being put forth to suppress by legislative means the traffic in liquor, the
per capita consumption of alcoholic drinks in the United States increases
from year to year. From a per capita consumption of four gallons in
1850, it has steadily risen to nearly 25 gallons in 1913. The increase in
the last two or three years has been less marked, owing no doubt to the
remarkable extension of "dry" territory, but this is offset by a great
increase in the use of narcotic drugs and of tobacco.

Narcotic drugs, such as alcohol and tobacco, relieve in an artificial
way the tension upon the brain by slightly paralyzing temporarily the
higher and more recently developed brain centers. The increase in the
use of these drugs is therefore both an index of the tension of modern life
and at the same time a means of relieving it to some extent. Were the
use of these drugs suddenly checked, no student of psychology or of
history could doubt that there would be an immediate increase of social
irritability, tending to social instability and social upheavals.

Psychology, therefore, forces upon us this conclusion. Neither war
nor alcohol can be banished from the world by summary means nor
direct suppressions. The mind of man must be made over. War is not
social insanity nor is it even social criminality. It is too normal to be
classed as either. But war is fast becoming irrational and a substitute
for it must be found. Social reconstruction hereafter will have to be
conceived on a different plan. It will have to be based on an intimate
knowledge of psychology, anthropology and history, rather than merely
upon sociology and economics. As the mind of man is constituted, he
will never be content to be a mere laborer, a producer and a consumer.
He loves adventure, self sacrifice, heroism, relaxation.

These things must somehow be provided. And then there must be a
system of education of our young differing widely from our present
system. The new education will not look to efficiency merely and ever
more efficiency, but to the production of a harmonized and balanced
personality. We must cease our worship of American efficiency and
German Strebertlium and go back to Aristotle and his teaching of
" the mean."

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

169

SOME PIONEERS IX MOSQUITO SANITATION AND OTHER

MOSQUITO WORK. II.

By Dr. L. O. HOWARD

! rilEAL" HI' c: TOMOI.OG1'

Dr. Oswaldo Concalves Cruz, director of the Institute Oswaldo Cruz,
Rio Janeiro, Brazil. The work of the Oswaldo Cruz Institute in
regard to the carriage of disease by insects has been of the highest type.
The men are trained in all bacteriological and morphological methods,
and their work has placed the institute among the first in the world.
Dr. Cruz is responsible for the early and complete elimination of yellow
fever from Rio Janeiro and for its reduction throughout Brazil.

VOL. LXXXVII. — 12.

170

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Dr. A. Lutz, chef de service, Oswaldo Cruz Institute, Rio Janeiro,
Brazil, formerly director of the Bacteriological Institute, Sao Paulo,
Brazil; well-known worker in helminthology, pathology and bacteriol-
ogy, as well as entomology; he has done much work on the mosquitoes
of Brazil, and has conducted studies of great importance in regard to
the relation of insects and disease.

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

171

Dr. E. A. Goeldi, professor of zoology in the Cantonal University,
Berne, Switzerland, formerly director of the Museum at Para, Brazil,
which he founded, and which is known as the Museu Goeldi. He pub-
lished while in Brazil an elaborate monograph of the mosquitoes of that
country, discussing these insects from every point of view.

172

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Dr. Eduardo Liceaga, president of the Superior Board of Health
of Mexico ; a very enlightened and progressive sanitarian of the highest
scientific attainments. He immediately grasped the importance of the
malarial and yellow-fever discoveries^ and put into effect measures which
soon rid the Republic of Mexico of all traces of yellow lever.

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

173

Dr. Carlos J. Find lay, president of the Board of Health, Havana,
Cuba. Dr. Findlay early announced the carriage of yellow fever by
a certain species of mosquito (the same one, in fact, which was definitely
proved to he the carrier), but -his experiments were not conclusive, and
his conclusions were not accepted by the scientific and medical world
until nearly twenty years later, when the U. S. Army Commission
(Eeed, Carroll, Lazear and Agramonte) brought about the overwhelm-
ing proof which was generally satisfactory. Findlay's announcement,
however, was based on many years' study of the disease and of the
mosquito vector.

174

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Dr. Aristides Agramonte, Havana, Cuba, professor of bacteriology
and experimental pathology, Havana University, Cuba; president of
the Board of Infectious Diseases, Cuban Sanitary Department. He
was the only Cuban member of the TL S. Army Yellow Fever Com-
mission which proved the transmission of yellow fever by Aedes calopvs
(formerly called Stegomyia fasdata) and is the only surviving member
of the Commission.

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

175

Dr. A. F. A. King. Dr. King was professor of obstetrics in Colum-
bian (now George Washington) University, Washington, D. C, and a
well-known Washington physician. He was a man of unusual mental-
ity, and as early as 1883 published in The Popular Science Monthly
an extended article in support of the idea that malaria is carried by
mosquitoes. His array of reasons was so great and his argument so
convincing that his paper has been considered the very strongest of any
on the carriage of disease by insects, published prior to the actual proof.
He died December 13, 1914, in Washington, D. C.

176

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Dr. Walter Reed, U. S. A., president of the IT. S. Army Yellow
Fever Commission, he who is to he given the principal credit for the
scientific demonstration of the transmission of yellow fever by a mos-
quito. Dr. Eeed died shortly after the complete demonstration was
announced, his death being attributable in part to the strenuous work
which he had done in connection with these investigations. He was
always very loath to have his picture published, and for a long time
the only one known was that taken in his early manhood, and which the
writer used in an article in the Centura Magazine of October, 1903.
The present picture is evidently from a photograph taken not long
before his death, and has been given to the writer by the Army Medical
School at the request of Surgeon-General Gorgas.

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

it

Dr. James Carroll, U. S. V., member of the U. S. Army Yellow
Fever Commission. Dr. Carroll himself had yellow fever in the course
of the investigation, as the result of a puncture by the yellow fever
mosquito, and died a few years afterwards, his death being attributable
in a large measure to the disease and to his hard work during the inves-
tigation period.

i78

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Dr. Jesse W. Lazear, U. S. V., member of the Yellow Fever Com-
mission. Dr. Lazear was a Johns Hopkins man and died in October,
1900, during the progress of the investigation as the result of a bite of
an infected mosquito.

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE

179

Dr. J. H. White, assistant surgeon general, U. S. Public Health
Service. In 1905 Dr. White was given full control by the national,
state and city authorities of the yellow-fever epidemic in New Orleans.
His work was done strictly on the mosquito basis, and the epidemic,
which was fully started and which would certainly otherwise have re-
sulted in thousands of deaths, was wiped out before frost for the first
time in the history of yellow fever. The total death list was less
than 500.

Dr. W. C. Gorgas, surgeon-general, U. S. Army. General Gorgas

(then major) was the chief sanitary officer of Havana, in charge of
sanitary work in that city from 1898 to 1902. He immediately grasped
the importance of the discoveries of the Army Yellow Fever Commis-
sion, and put in operation methods of comhating yellow fever, hased
upon the mosquito idea, which eliminated the disease in Havana. He
was made colonel and assistant surgeon general by a special act of
congress for this work. He was chief sanitary officer of the Panama
Canal Zone from March, 1904, until the completion of the canal, and
controlled yellow fever, malaria and other tropical diseases so perfectly
as to prove heyond all peradventure the feasibility of an extended occu-
pation of tropical regions by white races.

SOME ECOXOMIC FACTORS

SOME ECONOMIC FACTOKS INFLUENCING THE
FOEESTEY SITUATION

By A. F. HAWES

STATE FOKF.STER OF VKIIMIIXT

IN the movement for the conservation of our natural resources, which
is now rapidly gaining strength in our eastern states, as well as in
the national government, the influence of many factors must be taken
into consideration, and the question may very well arise as to whether
our representative form of government, as exemplified in our national
congress, our state legislatures, and city councils, is sufficiently far
sighted to cope witli them. Can these cumbersome bodies, representing,
as tiny do. tlif contending interests of the day, and having their eyes so
closely focused on the present, look into the distant future and pass
judiciously on measures affecting the next generation?

It has been a well-recognized policy, on the part of our local govern-
ments, to exempt new industries from taxation for a period of years on
the ground that such an inducement would counterbalance any advan-
tages that other towns had to offer, and that the new industry would be
an unquestioned asset to the community. Very W'w industries, how-
ever, are so constituted that artificial benefits can compete with natural
favorable conditions; such as nearness to the supply of raw material,
transportation facilities, water power, and a ready supply of efficient
labor. Even if tbese could be counterbalanced, the practise of tax
exemption has become so general that it is quite as easy for an industry
to secure it in one locality as another, and the result is a practise of
community throat-cutting without any appreciable benefits. So long as
the practise is tolerated it is, of course, impossible for single towns or
cities to prosper without entering into this unfortunate scramble.

A still more important question is as to whether the proposed indus-
tries will be really beneficial to the locality in which they are established.
They are, as a rule, beneficial or otherwise, according as they have the
elements of permanency. That many lines of business of seeming per-
manency may fail, or after a few years' experience, remove to other
places, is, of course, to be expected. So a business, which, by the
nature of things, can exist only for a short time, may not be a damage
to a community if it leaves that community no poorer than when
it came. For example, a corn-canning factory may prosper in a

182 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

region just so long as corn production is a profitable line of agri-
culture for the farmers to pursue. But if some other crop becomes
more profitable than corn, tbe new crop will be raised; or, if the
value of dairy products rises proportionately higher tlian corn, the corn
will be used for ensilage.

The removal of such an industry would not impoverish the com-
munity except in so far as the local people had invested in it. So a
business which exploits without waste a mineral resource, the amount
of which can never be increased, can not be considered blameworthy for
the entire disappearance of the supply. It is very different when we
consider a resource, such as timber, which, by proper handling, can be
made permanent, and can be even increased from two to ten fold over
its natural productivity. A company which enters a region with the
intention of stripping off within ten or twenty years timber which has
been one or two hundred "years in growing, and which can not be re-
grown in less than three quarters of a century, is in much the same
position as the gentleman swindler who entertains lavishly, pays gener-
ously for what he gets, but finally escapes with the wealth of his con-
fiding friends. It is only fair to say that this does not apply to the
lumbermen of the past, for, after all, business honesty is a very relative
matter, and one can hardly expect a firm to conduct its business on
principles in advance of public opinion. That interlocking directorates
were in good repute a decade ago will not excuse such a condition in the
future.

It will be apparent to any one considering permanent prosperity,
that such an industry, removing in a wasteful manner a resource like
timber, that could be handled in a better way, is anything but an asset
to the community. Such a business not only should not be encouraged
by tax rebates, but should be controlled by state regulations safeguarding
the community from such disastrous results of a wasteful policy as may
be seen in many deforested sections of the country.

Innumerable instances could be cited from various states of seri-
ous mistakes in public policy where injurious industries have been en-
couraged by tax rebates. One may suffice as an example. In a Vermont
town there was a timber property that was assessed fifteen or twenty
years ago at $40,000. For several years, while this timber was being
removed, the saw-mill manufacturing it was exempted from taxation.
The mill is now gone, and the real estate is assessed at $1,000. Many
other properties have depreciated in the same way, and the inevitable
result is a steady increase of the tax rate. Depopulation and degenera-
tion are the natural results of such a policy.

II

Lumber prices in the past have not justified much attention to the
growing of timber as a private business. It must be remembered that

SOME ECONOMIC FACTORS 183

these prices have never been based on the cost of growing timber, as are
the prices of manufactured articles, upon the cost of production, but
have been fixed by competition based simply on the cost of manufacture.
While the price of lumber is to-day much higher than it was fifteen or
twenty years ago, we must realize that a considerable part of this
increase is due to the higher cost of labor, and the increased transporta-
tion charges, due to the inaccessible position of much of the timber now
being cut. While the stumpage price has also advanced, it has not yet
any relationship to the actual cost of growing, but only to the scarcity
of, and demand for, the particular kind of timber. Only in the case of
a few species, which are in particular demand, and which also happen to
be rapid growing, are the prices sufficient as yet to cover the cost of
growing. Under this heading may be included such species as the white
pine, white ash, basswood and chestnut. On account of the serious dis-
ease of the latter it can not at present be advised for growing. Other
species, which are almost equally in demand, and which sell for nearly
as much, can not be grown for their present sale prices because of their
slow rate of growth. As examples of these may be mentioned the hem-
lock, cedar, birch and maple. The first of these can probably be dis-
pensed with, because its place can well be taken by more rapid growing
species ; but such species as cedar, birch and maple, which have peculiar
qualities of their own, must, if they are to be perpetuated, eventually
demand higher prices than the more rapid growing species, in order to
compensate the raisers for the greater length of time required. Other-
wise, the introduction of some substitute will be essential. Between
these two classes is a group of trees whose growth is such that under
favorable circumstances they may be profitably raised, but which, under
conditions prevailing in many remote sections, can not be grown at a
profit. The spruce, balsam, red oak, hickory and poplar may be men-
tioned in this class.

As the prices for slow-growing timbers must be relatively higher than
for rapid-growing species, if they are to persist, so the prices for trees
yielding the better grades and wider boards of a species must be con-
siderably higher than for small,-poorly developed trees. For some time
we have had grading rules formed by various lumber manufacturers'
associations for the grading of manufactured lumber, the different grades
selling for different prices. This has not generally affected the prices
paid for round logs or standing timber. In some localities, where there
is a growing competition between wood-working industries for particular
kinds of timber, there have been developed, of late, local grading rules
for round logs. By these rules, which are similar to those which obtain
in European countries, highest prices per unit of volume are paid for
large logs free from defects, and the lowest prices for small defective
logs with several gradations between. While the prices paid for these

1 84 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

various grades are as yet purely arbitrary, they tend to encourage the
holding of the better trees for the higher prices. Eventually these
prices must be based on the factors which go to produce these better
grades, such as the added length of time, the labor expended in silvi-
cnltural operations, etc.

At all conservation meetings the cry is common among lumbermen
that prices do not yet warrant the practise of forestry. That this is still
true in the remoter regions is indisputable ; yet the lumbermen should
remember that they have only themselves to blame for the condition,
since they have always pushed out into new fields faster than the lumber
prices warranted. The public is little concerned whether or not a man
can practise forest ry profitably in one section of the country, if it is
known that he can do so in the more accessible regions. The national
production of lumber brings up a very nice question. It is well known
among lumbermen that a slight overproduction results in a considerable
drop in prices ; which is, of course, fatal to the forestry cause. Yet we
have the popular demand for cheap lumber and the strenuous opposi-
tion on the part of the government to any kind of an agreement among
lumbermen to limit the output. In the same way the popular feeling is
to-day undoubtedly in favor of no tariff on lumber on the ground that
more Canadian lumber will be imported, and that our lumbermen will
not be obliged to cut so much. As a matter of fact Germany and
other countries, which have paid attention to the growing of timber, have
a tariff on lumber to protect their growers from countries like our own,
which are wholly exploiters of timber, although at the same time a
great amount of lumber is imported by their manufacturers. It should
be the duty of some federal commission, possibly the Interstate Trade
Commission now under discussion, to try to arrive at a compromise be-
tween producers and consumers, whereby the annual output would be
sufficiently limited to eliminate waste and maintain prices high enough
to warrant the practise of forestry ; and, on the other hand, to protect
the consumers against monopolistic prices.

Ill

Bonded indebtedness for railroad construction has been the bane of
many a New England town. In the days when the United States
government was subsidizing the railroads of the west, the farm towns of
New England were raising every possible dollar to build their own rail-
roads in the forlorn hope that in tins way they could meet the compe-
tition with the fertile lands which a misguided government was giving
away in the west. Voting year after year for unneeded protect'on
against foreign nations, these farm peoples Avere betrayed by the poli-
ticians into a far more disastrous competition with cheap lands in the
west, which no established community, with accompanying high values,

SOME ECONOMIC FACTORS 185

could resist. The general decline of farm values; migration of the
population to cities and the west; the bankruptcy of railroads and
similar events, are the chief incidents of the rural history of New Eng-
land of the last generation. Many of the towns, still overtaxed by rea-
son of long-standing railroad bonds, may well ask the question " whether
the railroad was an asset or a liability." In not a few regions railroads
were first constructed for the purpose of transporting lumber. If any
thought were given to the future it was assumed that agriculture or some
unforeseen industry would follow lumbering and would furnish business
for the railroad. In many of these sections only a small portion of the
soil is adapted for farming, and wood-using industries alone are possible
in a community where lumber is the only natural resource. Is it then
any wonder that many of these railroads to-day, after the timber has been
removed, are on the verge of insolvency ? It is too late to remedy this
evil in many sections, but new railroads are still being built in the
same old spirit of exploitation. Would it not be well for a state, in
granting a charter for such a road, to make some provision for the con-
servation of the natural resources tributary to that road ? Such a meas-
ure would not only safeguard the community traversed, but would be
of inestimable benefit to the innocent stockholders of the railroad, upon
whom the road would, sooner or later, be unloaded by the capitalists.

Some form of state control would work no hardship upon the people,
if adopted in connection with better transportation facilities. It is a
well acknowledged fact that adequate transportation alone makes pos-
sible the practise of forestry. Yet, because of the shortness of human
life, and the still shorter human judgment, railroads in this country have
always resulted in waste and desolation of forests, rather than in con-
servation and upbuilding, and only in a few cases, where the soil was
particularly rich, has forest destruction been justified.

From the standpoint of railroading, there are few crops which fur-
nish the promise for permanent railroad prosperity that is supplied by
the timber crop of the well-managed forest. Under fair conditions of
soil and management an annual production of 300 board feet per acre
is easily obtainable. Let us assume a railroad, fifty miles in length,
serving a region about thirty miles wide. If one third of this area is
tillable, which is about the average percentage in New England, the
total area which should be devoted to forestry would be 640,000 acres.
The annual cut from this area would be about 190 million feet of
lumber, or 10,000 car-loads, were it all shipped in a rough state.

The average freight rate on a car of lumber from Northern New
England to Boston or Springfield, is about $50. Such a traffic would,
therefore, be worth to the whole railroad system (although not to this
one road alone) a half million dollars a year.

It is estimated there are in New England some twenty-five million

VOL. LXXXVII.— 13.

1 86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

acres better adapted for timber production than for other purposes.
If this were all utilized as described above, and one half of the lumber
cut were shipped, while the other half was used locally, the railroads
would move annually over 200,000 cars of lumber. Is it unreasonable
to expect that railroad executives will spend more thought in the future
on the conservation of tributary natural resources, and less on the
manipulation of funds, than has been the case in the past? The only
alternative may have been already foreshadowed by the action of the
federal government in undertaking an extensive railroad policy in
Alaska for the proper development of the immense resources of that
territory.

More, perhaps, than any other class, the forester is concerned with
the material prosperity of the future; not, however, from any narrow
professional sense, but because of the far-reaching influence of such
prosperity upon the development of the future people. He may, there-
fore, be pardoned for looking at some of these matters from a somewhat
different angle from that in which they are usually regarded.

THE WASTE OF LIFE 187

THE WASTE OF LIFE

By ELAINE GOODALE EASTMAN

AMHERST, MASS.

To bear a child is nothing; to suckle it, nourish it, bring it to perfection —
this is bearing it for all time! — Balzac.

T

HE conservation of human life stands next to the giving of life
and inseparably one with it as the supreme task of woman. The
birth rate is affected by so many different factors that conclusions must
not be hastily drawn from any given set of figures. It may be lowered
from voluntary or involuntary causes; by extreme want or excessive
luxury; by diseases of immorality, or by the higher education of women.
It was formerly highest in the centers of population, but this condition
is being reversed, and the rural birth rate is falling less rapidly than
the urban.

The death rate among young children, however, is actually a touch-
stone of community welfare; a test of civilization. A high rate of
infant mortality means individual ignorance, and social injustice. A
lowering of the rate denotes a definite and positive improvement in
living conditions, a prevention of economic waste and human suffering
comparable only to the total abolition of war in magnitude. The num-
ber of babies dying from neglect in the United States alone, would
about equal in three years the total number of soldiers killed on both
sides during our Civil War !

When we ask how many died in any one year, we find, first of all,
our vital statistics greatly modified in value by the surprising fact that
effective registration of births and deaths is not yet general throughout
this country. From the latest report of the Census Bureau (1911) we
learn that birth registration is especially unsatisfactory, and that prob-
ably not over one fourth of our population is represented by records
even approximately complete. The National Federation of Woman's
Clubs is cooperating actively with other organizations and with the
Census Bureau itself in the effort to remedy this defect, through the
enactment and adequate enforcement of standard laws in the several
states. The new Children's Bureau of the Department of Labor, under
Miss Julia Lathrop, is bringing additional support to this important
movement. It is by no means creditable to us that the accuracy and
uniformity of our vital statistics should compare thus unfavorably with
those of the civilized nations of the Old World.

1 88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The rate of infant mortality has been defined by experts as the ratio
of deaths during the first year to the total number of births, and not,
as sometimes figured, the ratio of deaths during the first year to the
number of living infants under one year of age. For the group of
registration states as a whole, the infant death rate calculated under
the latter plan was about eight times the death rate at all ages. The
death rate of children in the first five years of life was about ten times
that of children in the second five years. It is estimated that approxi-
mately three hundred thousand babies die annually in the United States
before reaching their first birthday. In terms of total population, this
means the annihilation of a great city the size of Chicago, or of a state
like New Jersey, in a single decade. And at least half of these little
lives are needlessly lost. In New York City, in the year 1910, there
were 125 deaths under one year for every thousand births; in Wash-
ington, D. C, 152; in Lowell, Mass., 231; in Seattle, Washington, only
82 ! The wide variation is sufficient proof that many, if not most of
such deaths are preventable.

Stillbirths have been unaccountably neglected in vital statistics, fre-
quently being counted neither among births nor deaths. In American
cities, it has been estimated that 4 per cent, of all babies are born dead,
most of them from preventable causes. We do not know the number
of miscarriages (also mainly preventable), nor of ante-natal murders,
which frequently pass undetected. In France, the number of criminal
abortions has been reckoned at fifty thousand to one hundred thousand
a year.

Causes of Infant Mortality

It has sometimes been said that the elimination of the feebler chil-
dren, such as are often exposed to die in savage lands, tends on the
whole to the advantage of society. On the other hand, it is important
to remember that the causes productive of a high rate of mortality also
affect the resistive power of those who survive and sensibly weaken the
next generation. Our aim must be to insure that all be well born,
and all work for the preservation of the lives of little children helps
in the realization of this aim, as will be seen by an analysis of the
causes of death. About 10 per cent, of all who die within the year
live less than one day, and nearly one third perish before the end of the
first month, showing that prominent among the causes of infant mor-
tality is the mother's condition before and during the birth, as affected
by alcoholism, social disease and maternal overwork. These same evils
tend to produce stillborn and defective children. There is also ex-
tended lack of proper care during confinement. In American cities,
it is said that about one half of all births are attended by midwives,
90 per cent, of whom are inefficient (Mangold).

The next greatest cause, and one depending partly upon the former,

THE WASTE OF LIFE 189

is the lack of maternal nursing. It has been estimated that as many
as 70 per cent, of the infants in New York City are bottle-fed, and
therefore have only about one tenth the chance for life of the breast-fed
child. Some of these mothers are physically unable to nurse their
babies, by reason of ill-health, overwork and under-nourishment ; but
many more could do so if they sufficiently realized the importance of
the service.

A third leading cause, operating, of course, among bottle-fed babies
and after weaning, is the use of impure milk. Bad air, flies and all
other unhealthful conditions naturally affect the babies more quickly
than the adult population; yet experts agree that the health of the
mother, her successful nursing of her child for several months, at least,
and failing this, a supply of clean, sterile cows' milk, are factors of
first importance.

To sum up, we find that from one sixth to one tenth of American
babies die before they are one year old, and that more than half of these,
perhaps nearly all of them, perish because of maternal ignorance or care-
lessness, or, more fundamentally, because of unjust social conditions
and laws which fail to protect the makers of the new generation. It
is full time that the mothers of America were roused to a sense of
their grievous, their criminal neglect.

The Mother's First Duty

First of all, there ought to be an active propaganda among women
concerning the importance of maternal nursing. Such a movement is
needed most in the so-called educated class, since it is estimated that
60 per cent, of well-to-do women employ artificial feeding, and only
about 20 per cent, among the poor. The causes underlying the decline
of the American family, such as inordinate love of ease and pleasure,
the entrance of women into industrial and professional life, and certain
diseases of over-civilization, are doubtless responsible for much of this
deterioration in the quality of our motherhood. Yet the convenience
and attractive appearance of the various widely advertised baby-foods,
and the common use of the obnoxious nursing-bottle, have blinded
many mothers to the truth, and not a few allow themselves to be per-
suaded by meddlesome friends or pretty pictures that this is the modern,
sanitary way of bringing up children !

Let every young wife be told bluntly that the woman who fails to
nurse her child is but half a mother, and that she deprives herself of
one of the sweetest pleasures in life, while robbing her little one of its
birthright and enormously reducing its chances of survival, and its
vigor if it lives. Tell her that artificial feeding is ten times more
troublesome and inconvenient than natural feeding ; and that the bottle-
fed child, though fat and apparently well-nourished, is far more likely

i9o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

to succumb to infantile diseases, a frequent prey to rickets, and almost
certain to be backward in teething, walking and talking. Moreover, a
physician of wide experience has said that disuse of the mammary gland
has a tendency to manifest itself in the next generation when the baby
girl in turn becomes a mother, while the reverse is equally true. Im-
press upon her the fact that the milk is often slow in coming, and that
nearly all mothers can, if they persevere and are in fair health, nurse
their babies for at least three months, while a full year is better. Let
it be thoroughly understood that bottle-feeding is a grave misfortune
if unavoidable and, if avoidable, an unnatural wrong. Let anything
and everything which may be found to interfere with this essential
function — as social dissipation, overwork and worry, either before or
after marriage, — be relinquished in favor of that simplicity of living
and wholesome attitude toward life which should restore and preserve
a normal American womanhood.

A Shining Example

The progressive little state of New Zealand has for some time
boasted the lowest rate of infant mortality in the world. It was re-
ported in 1912 at 51 per 1,000 births, or less than half the (estimated)
rate for the United States as a whole. During the years from 1907 to
1912, it is said that the rate in Dunedin, a city of about sixty thousand
inhabitants, was reduced 50 per cent, through the activity of a volunteer
society called the New Zealand Society for the Health of Women and
Children. It is earnestly to be hoped that organizations of women in
this country will follow the example and methods of this society, which
are described for our benefit in a pamphlet issued by the national Chil-
dren's Bureau. Taking a few of our oldest cities and states for pur-
poses of comparison, we find that in Connecticut and Massachusetts
more than twice as many babies die out of each hundred born; in
Ehode Island, three times as many ! In the city of Dunedin, during
the past year (1913), only 3.8 died in every hundred; in Los Angeles —
one of our very best cities — 9.7; in Pittsburgh, Pa., 15; in Lowell,
Mass., 23!

The New Zealand society, though a private organization, receives
the benefit of government aid and influence. Here, as elsewhere, the
cooperation of public and private agencies has proved an effective
means of social reform. The main features of the program for public
health affecting our subject, are: (1) State registration of nurses; (2)
registration of midwives ; (3) government maternity hospitals ; (4) su-
pervision of infant asylums ; ( 5 ) complete registration of births.

The society is officered by women and its work is mainly educational.
It consists of the instruction of mothers and potential mothers through
demonstration lectures, newspaper articles, pamphlets, etc. ; the employ-

THE WASTE OF LIFE 191

merit of specially qualified nurses to visit and instruct mothers before
and after the birth of their children, and the promotion of needed legis-
lative reforms. It announces itself as

less concerned with reducing the death rate than with improving the health of
the people. However, the problems are practically identical.

Work at Home

These and similar methods have been followed to some extent in a
few American cities, in part by boards of health, and in part by various
private agencies. Already the increase in scientific knowledge, and the
new social consciousness, have resulted in a marked reduction in our
infant death rate within the last few years. It is estimated that during
the decade 1900-1910 the decrease was 19 per cent., or nearly one fifth,
which of course satisfactorily offsets, in a measure, the reduction in
number of births. The mother's contribution to the world is not to be
measured by the number of children she has borne, but by the number
brought to a vigorous and useful maturity.

In order to make all the knowledge collected on this subject gen-
erally available, to induce comparisons, and to enable one community
to profit by another's experience, the Children's Bureau has issued the
first of a projected series of annual bulletins on "Baby-Saving Cam-
paigns in American Cities." The lack of financial support is the great-
est obstacle to efficient work. The motto of the health department of
New York City is worthy of note.

Public health is purchasable; within natural limitations a community can
determine its own death rate.

These significant words should hang upon the walls of every city hall
in the land.

Surely nature's first law should be man's first concern, not only for
himself, but for the community; not for his own children alone, but
for all children, since none can be safe where all are not safe. Legis-
lator, tax-payer, what would you take in exchange for the life of your
child? How much are you willing to give in order adequately to safe-
guard its precious life and all the other precious lives in your com-
munity ? A certain city of more than a half million inhabitants wrote
to the Children's Bureau through its board of health as follows :

We have no funds available to organize a division for the care of infants.

Another large city, on being asked its plans for a summer campaign
against children's digestive diseases, replied :

We have been unable to get an appropriation for a campaign of this kind.

Wherever this state of affairs exists — and may it not be in our own
community? — it is incumbent upon individual women to organize, or

192 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

through existing organizations to compel public attention to this vital
matter. The final responsibility lies with the public, and the outcome
of successful private work is usually that sufficient municipal funds are
appropriated to take it over. This has been accomplished in Bridge-
port, Conn., Milwaukee, Indianapolis, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Rich-
mond, Va., and in many other cities and towns.

While methods vary in different localities, the program for a baby-
saving campaign, as outlined by the Bureau, is something like this :

1. Insistence upon complete and prompt birth registration as a ba-
sis of work. In some cities, a letter or card is sent each mother upon
the birth of a child, thus securing her interest, and with the letter of
congratulation a folder may be enclosed, containing advice on the care
of infants, and printed, if desirable, in several languages. A strong
appeal for breast feeding is always a feature of such advice.

2. Eigid inspection of the milk supply, with frequent tests for fat
contents as well as for dirt and bacteria. Eecognized grades of whole-
some milk include : (a) certified milk ; (6) inspected milk ; (c) pasteur-
ized milk.

3. The establishment of pure-milk stations, where such milk may
be obtained at or below cost, and to mothers unable to pay the price may
be furnished free. Such milk must be supplied only on proof of ina-
bility to nurse the child, if too young for proper weaning.

4. Baby clinics, and the employment of trained nurses to visit the
homes, especially of the very poor, both before and after the birth of a
child, to care for sick babies, and to instruct mothers in the care of
infants.

5. Improvement of bad housing conditions; the fight against flies
and the breeding of flies; and general educational work.

Dr. Josephine Baker, of the New York City Board of Health, has
stated that

babies may be kept under continuous supervision at a cost of sixty cents per
month per baby, and the death rate among babies so cared for has been reduced
to 1.4 per cent. In other words, the solution of the problem is twenty per cent,
pure milk, and eighty per cent, care and training of mothers.

The American Association for Study and Prevention of Infant
Mortality owes its existence to the American Academy of Medicine,
which called the first conference on that subject ever held in the United
States. The association was organized at the close of this meeting,
held at Yale University in 1909, and in 1910 an office was opened in
Baltimore, from which the work has since been directed. Its func-
tions are chiefly educational, and its work is carried on by general propa-
ganda, by investigations and special work in committees, through an
annual meeting and the publication of its transactions, and through a
traveling exhibit. Any person interested in the aims of the society may
become a member, and the dues are three dollars a year and upward.

TEE WASTE OF LIFE 193

Besides the forms of work already mentioned, this association lays
stress upon the importance of better teaching of obstetrics in our medical
schools, upon the extension of maternity hospitals, out-patient obstet-
rical services, visiting obstetrical nurses, and either the thorough educa-
tion or gradual abolition of midwives, also pre-natal instruction of ex-
pectant mothers. Many mothers lose their health or their lives, and
more babies perish or become permanently crippled or blind, as a result
of improper management during child-birth.

Why Poverty is Fundamental

The first field study of the Children's Bureau has just been published
(1915), and inaugurates a proposed series of studies in infant mortality,
to be made in typical American communities. It was undertaken by
means of personal interviews with the mothers of all the babies born in
the city of Johnstown, Pa., during one calendar year, 1,551 in all, of
whom 196 died, or 134 per 1,000 births. The estimated rate throughout
the United States is 124 per 1,000 (U. S. Census Report, 1911), which
may be compared with a rate of about 261 in Eussia, 105 in England,
75 in Australia, and 51 in New Zealand.

Owing to the method of enquiry, and to the absence of a physician
upon the staff of the bureau, only family, social, industrial and civic
factors were considered in Johnstown, omitting all reference to two
important causes of infant mortality — alcoholism and venereal disease.
Emphasis is placed upon the economic factor, and it plainly appears
from a study of the tables presented, that, whatever the immediate
cause of death, the underlying cause in a large majority of cases was
that mother of all evils, poverty.

A study of environment shows that the death rate was 271 per
1,000 babies in the poorest sections of the city, or more than five times
that in the best residential sections. It was 171 for foreign mothers
as against 104 for native mothers. It was 214 for illiterate foreign
mothers, or 66 per 1,000 greater than for foreign mothers who could
read. The duration of the mother's rest period before and after con-
finement was found to affect the result, as was also the employment of a
midwife instead of a physician. But most of these points depend di-
rectly upon the fundamental question of income. The father's earn-
ings were discovered to be the one factor of greatest importance.
Babies whose fathers earned ten dollars a week or less died at the rate
of 256 per 1,000, while those whose fathers earned $25 or more a week
died at the rate of 86 per 1,000. The foreigners, especially the recent
arrivals, were generally those who lived in the poorest and most unsani-
tary quarters, whose women were ignorant and overworked, forced to
carry water, to keep lodgers, or to work for wages, and all these mis-
fortunes were commonly due to the lack of a proper living wage for
the men.

194 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTELY

Although only 47 per 1,000 died of the babies breast-fed at least
three months, as against 166 per 1,000 of the artificially fed, even
this advantage was outweighed by the terrible handicap of poverty, as
will be at once recognized when we recall that about three times as
many of the poorer mothers nurse their babies as of the well-to-do.
The death rate among the illegitimate was about twice that of the legiti-
mate, a difference generally recognized as due to almost universal aban-
donment of such children by the father, and frequent abandonment or
neglect by the helpless girl-mother.

The disease directly causing most deaths was found to be bowel
trouble or enteritis (usually caused by improper feeding, especially in
summer), closely followed by the respiratory diseases (most fatal in
winter), and prematurity or congenital weakness, causing death usually
within a few days. About 5 per 1,000 were stillborn.

To sum up, although a certain amount of treatment of symptoms
may be necessary or desirable, we should bear steadily in mind that
whatever tends to modify social inequalities and to give to labor a fair
share in the products of labor will do most to save the lives of three hun-
dred thousand babies, yearly offered up in America an innocent sacrifice
to the Moloch of selfish greed. And since the whole social body must
suffer with the least of its members, is not the idol as short-sighted as
he is hideous ?

WAR AND THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY 195

WAE AND THE PEOGEESS OP SOCIETY

By Peofessor I. W. HOWERTH

THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

WE in America are so accustomed to the idea of social progress, and
so familiar with certain actual or so-called progressive ideals, pro-
gressive factors and progressive movements, not to speak of progressive
parties, that we are likely to assume that progress is general and in the
nature of things. Such, however, is not the case. There are no grounds
for the prevalent belief in the "general evolution of mankind" in
which the nations of Europe, our own country, or any other country for
that matter, must necessarily participate in spite of its wickedness, ex-
cesses and folly. The very idea of social progress is comparatively new,
and the most superficial examination of the facts of social evolution as
revealed in history will show that social advancement is sporadic, local
and limited in time. Primitive civilizations were as a rule non-
progressive. Some of the modern nations, as for instance, China, are
practically in a statical condition. National decadence, or the reverse
of progress, as for instance in the later history of Spain, Eome, Greece
and Egypt, looms large in the background of the past. Extensive re-
gions in the Orient, once the home of advanced civilizations, are now
barren deserts from which all life has disappeared. National deca-
dence is in fact a more familiar phenomenon than national progress.
As Maine remarks,

The stationary condition of the human race is the rule, the progressive the
exception.i

Still, if the doctrine of social evolution be true, and we assume that
it is, progress has characterized all peoples at some time in their his-
tory. Even in the case of stagnant primitive peoples, as well as the
non-progressive nations of to-day, there must have been advancement
prior to the time at which they reached their static condition. A brief
study of the manner in which this advancement was brought about, par-
ticularly the part that war played, and now plays, in the achievement
of social progress is the object of this paper.

It is sometimes said, and it seems to be widely believed, that one of
the essential factors in social progress is war. This declaration and
this belief, however, are unwarranted, as I shall proceed to show.

If we should look into sociological literature to find a specification
of the factors of social progress and an accurate analysis of the several
circumstances, elements or influences which tend to the promotion of
civilization through progress, we should find practical agreement, al-

1 ' ' Ancient Law, ' ' p. 23. See also Bagehot, ' ' Physics and Politics, ' ' Ch. I.

196 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

though the distinction between factors, forces, means and methods is
not always carefully drawn. Buckle, in his " History of Civilization in
England" attributes social changes, hence progress, to climate, food,
soil and the general aspect of nature. Buckle, however, regards only
the external factors of progress ; and inasmuch as he holds that physical
agents are the primary and the chief factors in human development, he
anticipates the modern advocates of the materialistic conception of his-
tory. John Fiske says:

The prime factors in social progress are the community and its environment.

By environment, Fiske means to include not only the climate, soil,
flora and fauna, perpendicular elevation, relation to mountain ranges,
length of coast-line, character of scenery and geographic position with
reference to other countries, but also "the ideas, feelings, experiments
and observances of past times, so far as they are preserved by litera-
ture, traditions or monuments, as well as foreign contemporary manners
and opinions so far as they are known and recorded by the community."
He does not attempt to analyze his conception of " community." Pro-
fessor Carver in compiling his " Hand-Book for Students of Sociology "
arranges his material under the following heads : the physical and geo-
logical factors, the psychical factors, the social and economic factors
and the political and legal factors. In still another classification we
find the factors of social evolution divided as follows : physical and geo-
graphical, biological, hygienic and eugenic, genetic and economic, polit-
ical and legal, ethical and religious, esthetic, intellectual and asso-
ciational.2

The literature of the subject aside, however, we need only to glance
at the social process to see that the factors at work in the advancement
of society are external and internal. The external factors arrange
themselves under three heads, namely, the physical, the vital and the
societal. The physical factors include soil, climate, topography, etc.;
the vital include the regional flora and fauna ; and the societal, the sur-
rounding social groups that in one way or another exercise an influence
on a given society. The internal factors consist in two things, and two
things only: they are men and the things that men have made, or,
somewhat less exactly, ideas and the embodied results of ideas in lan-
guage, literature, the sciences, the arts, law, property, the state, reli-
gion, etc. Chief among the internal factors the one indeed from which
all others are derived, is the intellect acting as a guide to the will. Pro-
fessor Ward is practically correct when he declares that it is through
the cooperation of the will and the intellect that civilization has been
brought about. At all events, these are the great and comprehensive
internal factors of civilization and progress.

In presenting these classifications of the factors of social progress,

I am not concerned merely with their completeness or accuracy. I wish

rather to bring out two significant facts : First, that the factors of prog-

2Bogardus, a syllabus entitled "An Introduction to the Social Sciences."

WAR AND THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY 197

ress are many, and hence in attempting to account for social progress
we should be careful not to overestimate the influence of any single
factor; and, second, that in none of the foregoing classifications of the
factors of progress is there mention of war. Why is war omitted ? Is
it because in the analyses it has been overlooked? Or is it because it
may not properly be included among the factors of progress ? Clearly
the latter is the explanation. War is not a factor of social progress.
This will be obvious on considering the real meaning of the term
" factor."

If we turn to a definition of the word factor we find it means any-
thing that is employed in the production of a given result. Thus, three
is a factor of eighteen. It may be employed in the production of that
number, but the manner or method of its employment may be either
addition or multiplication. Now it is quite worth while in the interest
of clearness of thought on the present subject to make a distinction be-
tween the factors that unite or that are employed in the production of
a given result, and the manner in which these factors naturally combine
or the method by which they are employed in producing that result.
Clearly three and six, the factors of eighteen, are quite different from
the addition or the multiplication, that is, the method, employed in
producing the number. Observe, too, in this connection that while the
number of factors that combine or are employed in the production of a
given result may be and in general are fixed, the method of employing
them is variable. It may be a natural and fortuitous reaction, which
is really no method at all, or if consciously employed the methods may
be as many and as varied as human ingenuity can devise. With ex-
actly the same factors which by natural reaction or by conscious em-
ployment produce a given result, methods of employing them may be
accepted or rejected in accordance with our judgment with respect to
their effectiveness. We may eliminate what we consider bad methods
and employ only what seem to us to be good methods, while the factors
may remain the same.

In the case, then, of progress, or its opposite effected by war, the
factors are the social groups involved, the war itself being merely the
manner in which these factors combine to produce the given result.
Is this mode of combining properly to be called a method ? That is to
say, is war a method of social progress? If war is a method of social
progress it is clearly not the only method. Hence it is subject to com-
parison with other methods as to its relative efficiency. Its value as a
method must depend upon its cost and effectiveness as compared with
the cost and effectiveness of other conceivable methods of social prog-
ress, as for instance education, commerce, contact through travel, and
the various other forms of intercommunication by which alone one social
group may stimulate the progress of another. If, on comparison, a
better method were found, it would show lack of social intelligence not
to discard the worse for the better.

1 98 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

But a further consideration will show that war is not really a method
of social progress, except in a figurative sense. For method, as De
Greef properly observes, is the highest manifestation of knowledge and
consciousness;3 or, as Spencer remarks, the highest self-conscious mani-
festation of the rational faculty. It implies always and everywhere the
perception of an end to he reached, and the conscious selection and
employment of the means of reaching it. Before war can properly be
regarded as a method of social progress, then, social progress must be
conceived as the end to be realized, and war must be entered upon with
the conscious intent of thereby promoting social advancement. It is
hardly probable, however, that any nation has ever deliberately declared
war with the conscious aim of promoting social progress, and it is not
likely that any nation ever will do so. Unless and until this is done
war, while it may be employed from time to time as a method of attain-
ing governmental, class, or dynastic ends, can not properly be classified
as a method of social progress.

We have seen then that war is neither a "factor" of progress, nor,
properly speaking, a "method" of social advancement. It follows that
it is not a "means" of social progress. For a means, strictly speak-
ing, is something chosen for use in the achievement of an end. It im-
plies method. It is that which mediates between the existing condition
and the purpose to be achieved. Until some government, nation or
society sets up social progress as an aim, and selects war as the agency
for bringing it about, it is just as improper to speak of war as a means
to social progress as it is to speak of it as a method or a factor of social
progress.

So much for what war is not. It is sufficient perhaps to show that
what is asserted of war as " an essential factor of progress," an " indis-
pensable method of social advancement," etc., is incorrect, and that the
widely prevalent conception of the necessity of war in the promotion
of " kultur " and civilization is not well founded — is in fact mere
unsinnige Reden.

But if war is none of the things already described, what is it?
Plainly it can not be argued out of existence. In addition to being a
frequent occurrence in the past, it is just now a very conspicuous and
stubborn fact. What, then, is its real nature as a social phenomenon?
and what is its true relation to progress ?

From the social standpoint war is manifestly a form of group inter-
action. The nations involved have collided while in pursuit of what is
regarded as their own individual well-being. ' War, then, is always
entered upon, not with the large and generous object of promoting
social progress, but in order to realize one or the other of the narrower
and conflicting purposes of social groups. Social progress is not the
conscious end, although any of the nations engaged will be ready to
identify its own " cause " with progress, and with all that is precious in

3 See Introduction, "A la Sociologie," p. 441.

WAR AND THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY 199

civilization. This means that war is a socially unconscious phenome-
non. As distinguished from the conscious and concerted, that is to
say, artificial, action of society in the promotion of its own well-being,
it is a purely natural phenomenon, and socially considered belongs in
exactly the same class as earthquakes, floods, famine and pestilence.

To this point we come, then, that war has nothing to do with social
progress, except in an incidental way. It is a mode of collective action
whose incidental effect may be progress or regress. It is, as De Greef
has well said, the best example of a socially unconscious phenomenon.
He says:

La guerre est le phenomenene social ineonscient par excellence; la preuve,
c'est qu'elle finit toujours par ou on aurait du commencer, si l'on avait ete
capable d'etablir la balance exacte des forces hostiles, c'est-a-dire par des
traites.*

" But," it will be said, " it can not be denied that war has sometimes
resulted in progress." Certainly not; nor can it be denied that it has
sometimes resulted in regress. As a result of war states have been
founded, and as a result of war states have been destroyed. War has
initiated civilizations, and war has overthrown them. x\nd always the
effect on social progress has been incidental, unforseen and unintended.

The social effects of war, then, and hence its influence upon progress,
are exactly parallel to the effects of the undirected forces of nature.
These in their blind action produce results sometimes progressive and
sometimes the opposite, but always with absolute disregard of the effects
produced and of the amount of energy expended. War, it may be said,
belongs to the economy of nature and not to the economy of mind.

Now the common characteristic of the phenomena of nature as dis-
tinguished from the phenomena of mind, so far as they are related to
the achievement of the ends desired by human beings, is waste. Nature
is notoriously prodigal. Progress achieved by it is uncertain, slow and
expensive. War, therefore, being from the social viewpoint a natural
phenomenon should be expected to exhibit this common characteristic.
And so it does. It is perhaps the superlative example of social waste.

Now waste, whether it result from individual or social action, is an
evidence of unintelligence. The function of intelligence is to promote
economy of time, means and energy in the realization of a given end.
Social intelligence, therefore, when it is directed to the promotion of
social progress, can not countenance war because of its wastefulness, to
say nothing of the uncertainty of its results. Social progress, after the
dawn of social intelligence, is really equivalent to the development of
such intelligence. The general progress of society must therefore nec-
essarily lead to the social prevention of war. Continuous progress with
the continuance of war is a contradiction in terms.
4 Op. tit., p. 434.

200 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE FUNCTIONS OP PEIMITIVE EITUALISTIC

CEKEMONIES

By Dr. CLARK WISSLER

AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY

IF we take a naive attitude toward primitive ritualism, we must wonder
how it ever came about that people believe the proper method for
attaining any desired end to be the use of a formula. Thus, we may-
note a Dakota Indian tossing a handful of dust into the air when going
into battle to ensure victory, and wonder how a people, who otherwise
impress one as intelligent, could possibly entertain so absurd a belief.
Again when we see a primitive doctor singing and demonstrating a ritual
over a sick man, we are moved at its pathetic folly. These things are in-
comprehensible to us chiefly because we can see no reason why the
activities involved in the demonstration of a ritual can be considered as
directly contributory causes to the ends desired. So long as we confine
our attention to isolated cases of ritualism like the preceding our amaze-
ment will not abate, but if we examine in detail a large number and va-
riety of primitive rituals, the phenomena become far more intelligible.

One striking feature of primitive ceremonials is the elaboration of
ritualistic procedure relating to the food supply. Particularly in abor-
iginal America we have many curious and often highly complex rit-
uals associated with the cultivation of maize and tobacco. These often
impress the student of social phenomena as extremely unusual but still
highly suggestive facts, chiefly because the association seems to be be-
tween things that are wholly unrelated. Thus among the Pawnee we
find an elaborate ritual in which a few ears of maize are raised almost
to the status of a god. At a certain fixed time in the autumn the official
priest of this ritual proceeds with great ceremony to the field and selects
a few ears according to definite standards. These are further conse-
crated and carefully guarded throughout the winter. At planting
time the women present themselves ceremonially to receive the seed, the
necessary planting instructions, etc. Thus, it appears that during the
whole yearly cycle there is a definite ritual in function associated with
maize culture.1

Again in the tobacco cultures of the Crow and the Blackfoot Indians,

respectively, we find a close parallel. In the former case the ritual is

expressed in the organization of a society whose chief function seems to

be the direction and control of tobacco production. In the latter, the

i The reader wishing a good detailed example of maize rituals should scan
the writings of Frank H. Cushing, particularly in volume 9 of " The Millstone. ' '

PRIMITIVE RITUALISTIC CEREMONIES 201

ritual while no less elaborate is objectively associated with a ceremonial
bundle, in which the seed is kept and guarded by the official keeper of
the whole. In both cases each important step in the process from seed to
pipe is one of the fundamentals in a ritual. Many such examples can
be found in the special literature of the subject.

If now we give our attention exclusively to planting rituals certain
points of general import may be noted. As a convenient example, we
may abstract the following from the data on tobacco culture among the
Blackf oot Indians : At the planting of the tobacco seed the leading men
hold a feast to which they invite their friends. Eight young men are
sent out to gather deer, antelope and mountain-sheep dung. They use
this dung because these animals run fast and therefore the tobacco will
grow rapidly. They do not use the dung of the elk and moose because
the animals walk slowly and would thereby delay the growth of the to-
bacco. The leading men give a feast which lasts four days, during which
they dance and sing. The dung is then mashed up together with serv-
ice berries, and tobacco leaves and water are added. All these make the
tobacco seed ready to plant. The seed is now given out among the
planters. To prepare the soil a lot of brush is gathered by all the men,
women, and children and spread on the ground. At each of the four
corners of this place a fire is started, four men watching the fire so as to
prevent it from spreading further. After all the brush has been burnt,
they make small brooms of brush with which the place is swept clean.
Then a number of men procure sticks with curved roots or having curves
that can serve as handles. The straight end of this stick is sharpened
and used for digging up the ground. With these sharpened sticks they
make holes about a foot apart and two inches deep in a row and the
ground is divided up into sections in which each man plants his seeds.
The seeds are dropped into these holes, the children covering them up
by running back and forth over them four times. Should a child fall
while doing this, ill luck would surely follow, and the child will die.
After the seeds have been planted incense offerings are made on the
four corners of the plot and the songs of the ritual sung.

This part of the tobacco ritual is clearly but a formal expression of
the recognized method of planting tobacco. We see that the seed is pre-
pared for germination, the seeds and roots of all intrusive plants killed
by burning over the surface, the soil leveled and pulverized, then effec-
tively fertilized and the seed planted in a definite way. What after all
is the ritual in this case, but a formalized statement of how tobacco
should be planted to secure a good crop ?

We also note the existence of specific knowledge of the conditions for
tobacco growing, which certainly deserves to be considered scientific.
The problem then arises as to how this knowledge came to be associated
with a ritual. While we have no direct data as to how the Indian ar-
rived at this knowledge, there is no good ground for believing that it

VOL. LXXXVII. 14.

202 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

was developed by the construction of a ritual. So far as can be seen,
knowledge that works, even among primitive men, is always arrived at
by experimentation. Though it is likely that in this particular case the
Blackfoot Indians learned the whole process from strangers, it is certain
that each step in the process was originally worked out in some definite
locality and the working out of these methods, while in a large measure
due to the experience of many, quite likely received its final formalization
at the hands of a single individual. This individual was the teacher.

Assuming that this is the condition leading to the formalization of
the tobacco-planting procedure, and that it is fundamentally based upon
material experiment, how can we account for the seemingly useless cere-
monial accompaniments? In the case of culture traits like the tobacco
planting of the Blackfoot Indians the problem is always complicated by
already existing patterns, or method concepts. Thus it may come to he
regarded as axiomatic that to succeed any process must be carried out in
a ceremonial manner, or that mere social usage demands that it be so.
If either or both of these conceptions prevail, it is clear that the original
formalizer of the tobacco planting process would give it a ceremonial
dress by introducing into it the more or less conventionalized ceremonial
units prevailing in his group. If it was the custom of his people to give
some weight to peculiar personal dreams, then also some of his dream
experiences might be incorporated. The total construct then result-
ing would be a tobacco-planting ritual of which the Blackfoot example
is typical. Yet this complication need not obscure the essential factor
in the case, for, eliminating this " following of existing patterns," we
have revealed the backbone of the ritual, the concrete demonstration of
processes empirically determined.

Perhaps if we compare the conditions among primitive groups with
those under which we ourselves live the case may be clearer. If tobacco
planting as a new agricultural trait should be introduced to us, its
demonstrator would reduce the necessary directions to writing or cast his
oral directions in a form easily reduced to writing. Such writings would
then be credited by some authority to furnish the sanctions for the pro-
cedure, take certain conventional forms as books, periodicals and lectures,
and conform to a certain standards of literary style. Thus we should
construct what may be considered a text-book, which, whether written
or not, would take the same essential form.

Now, among primitive groups the machinery for perpetuating and
standardizing knowledge of this kind is the ritual. The objective
method of written records not having been developed, we find in its
place a memorized formula whose seriousness and sanction seems to be
found in its ceremonial setting. We may safely conclude then that one
of the chief functions of a planting or hunting ritual is the perpetuation
of the method involved and that whatever may have been the conditions
underlying its inception, it grew naturally out of the perpetuation of the

PRIMITIVE RITUALISTIC CEREMONIES 203

method by instruction. There is no reason to believe that it arose pri-
marily as a ceremonial act, but that it must have been the result of
homely experiment.

If we take the widest sort of view of the world there appears no
good reason why primitive men should not be considered as great mate-
rialists as we fancy ourselves to be. Our anthropological museums are
filled with the debris of primitive man's endless experimentation with
stone, bone, shell, clay, pigment and metal. In all this one can often
trace more or less clearly the successive triumphs of great inventors.
Out of this boundless striving, step by step, doubtless hesitatingly and
slowly, was built up the world's present store of real knowledge. For
ages and ages and even yet, much of it was carried and perpetuated as a
mere matter of memory. To distinguish between the essential and the
inessential in a procedure is rarely easy, the great human way being to
" follow the leader " in every detail, thus naively doing the necessary
along with the irrelevant. Thus we are able to form a satisfactory
theory of ritualism. It is based primarily upon empirical data, for the
universal human method has always been " to try it." The experience of
all mankind is, that wonders can be worked only by proceeding in cer-
tain precise ways, the real reasons for which are often utterly baffling.
The person who knows the way can bring the result by merely going
through with the formula. It is true even now that many who see the
curious workings of these formula1 generalize and conceive of a universal
method which is essentially the application of a formula. When such a
conception becomes a part of folk-thought, we may expect individuals
to experiment and try more or less at random formula of their own de-
vising or, what is more likely, borrowed from another. Thus it comes
to pass that many misfit formula in use everywhere.

The survival of true misfits in the more material affairs of life is un-
likely, but when formula are applied to psychological and physiological
phenomena, it is very difficult to decide as to their efficacy. A strong
corrective influence works in one case in contrast to a weak one in the
other. One scarcely need be reminded that our own scientific method
developed first in strictly material problems and is but gradually ex-
tending its methods to the outlying phases of organic phenomena; and
doubtless, here too many naive and over-generalizing individuals mis-
apply the mere empty methods of material science to the deception of
themselves and others.

In short, a ritualistic ceremony in primitive life, and perhaps every-
where, is based upon a methodological ideal of accuracy in procedure or
experiment and is an expression of a specific series of procedures so
dressed and arranged as to hold the interest, emotions and retentive
activities of men. Its primary function is to perpetuate exact knowledge
and to secure precision in its application.

John Burroughs.

This bust of the naturalist by the sculptor C. S. Pietro has recently been presented
to the American Museum of Natural History, New York, by Mr. Henry Ford.

THE PRO GEES 8 OF SCIENCE

205

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

THE PACIFIC COAST MEETING OF

THE AMEBIC AN ASSOCIATION

FOB THE ADVANCEMENT

OF SCIENCE

The first meeting of the American
Association for the Advancement of
Science west of the Boeky Mountains is
an event of more than usual impor-
tance for science in America. It signi-
fies both the development of a great
scientific center on the Pacific Coast and
the unity of the scientific interests of
the country. It is also the case that
the disastrous events in Europe will
probably give the United States the
leadership in scientific research and in
the application of science to the ad-
vancement of civilization, and in a sense
this new position and responsibility will
date from the Pacific Coast meeting
of the American Association and its
affiliated societies.

It will be remembered that the March
issue of The Popular Science Monthly
was devoted to the scientific work of the
Pacific Coast and at that time there
were given accounts of the organization
of the Pacific Division of the American
Association and of the national meet-
ing to be held this summer in California.
It is now needful only to remind readers
of these events, and to urge the impor-
tance of a large attendance from "all
parts of the country.

The opening session for the presenta-
tion of the addresses of welcome, for
announcements and for the presidential
address by Dr. W. W. Campbell, di-
rector of the Lick Observatory, will be
held in San Francisco at 10:00 o'clock,
Monday morning, August 2, in the Scot-
tish Eite Auditorium, corner Sutter
Street and Van Ness Avenue. The so-
cial reception to visitors will occur on
Monday evening in the reception rooms
of the California Host Building, Expo-

sition Grounds. The general sessions of
the association, including three lectures
on Pacific region subjects, will be held
in San Francisco in the Scottish Rite
Auditorium on Tuesday, Thursday and
Friday evenings. The sessions of the
association and of the affiliated societies
on Wednesday, August 4, will be at
Stanford University. It is expected that
a special train will leave San Francisco
at a convenient hour Wednesday morn-
ing for Palo Alto and return to San
Francisco late in the afternoon. All
other sessions of the week will be held
at the University of California, in
Berkeley.

The general headquarters of the asso-
ciation during convocation week, Au-
gust 2 to 7, will be in the Hearst Min-
ing Building, on the campus of the Uni-
versity of California, Berkeley. Sec-
ondary offices will be maintained: in
San Francisco from Saturday noon,
July 31, to Friday noon, August 6, in
the Palace Hotel; in San Francisco on
Monday forenoon, August 2, in the
I Scottish Rite Building, Sutter Street
and "Van Ness Avenue; and in Stan-
ford University on Wednesday, August
4. Members will secure badges and
programs upon registration. Mail ad-
dressed in care of the Hearst Mining
Building, University of California, will
be delivered as promptly as possible to
those who have registered.

Several of the affiliated societies have
announced selections of hotel head-
quarters as follows:

American Astronomical Society and the
American Mathematical Society, Hotel
Claremont, Berkeley.
American Physical Society, Hotel Clare-
mont, Berkeley.
Geological Society of America, Paleon-
tological Society of America and Seis-
mological Society of America, Hotel
Shattuek, Berkeley.

206

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Botanical Society of America, Hotel

Carlton, Berkeley.
Zoological Society of America and the

Biological Society of the Pacific,

Hotel Carlton, Berkeley.
Entomological Society of America,

Hotel Claremont, Berkeley.
American Anthropological Association,

Hotel Carlton, Berkeley.
American Genetic Society, Hotel Clare-
mont, Berkeley.
American Psychological Association,

Hotel Plaza, San Francisco, Post and

Stockton Streets.
Areheological Institute of America,

Hotel Bellevue, San Francisco, Geary

and Taylor Streets.

Bound trip special Exposition rail-
way tickets at greatly reduced rates are
available from all points to San Fran-
cisco, Los Angeles or San Diego as the
destination. The price of tickets from
points east of the Rocky Mountains is
the same whether the destination be San
Francisco, Los Angeles or San Diego.
The trip going and returning may be by
the same route or by different routes,
but the routes described on the tickets
must be followed. Tickets from Chi-
cago and farther east are valid going or
returning via New Orleans. Tickets via
Portland, Seattle, etc., involve a sup-
plementary charge, concerning which
the local railway representatives should
be consulted. The baggage of those who
intend to stay in Berkeley should be
checked directly to Berkeley, California
(by either the Southern Pacific or Santa
Fe routes) instead of to San Fran-
cisco. All round trip tickets require
validation for the return trip.

Railway rates have been greatly re-
duced, the cost of a round trip being
$62.50 from Chicago and $94.30 from
New York.

Special lines of steamers advertise
passage between the Atlantic and Pacific
Coast by way of the Panama Canal at
rates varying between $135 and $198
(one way).

Stop-overs for side trips can be ar-
ranged either going or returning.
Round trip rate from San Francisco to

Hawaiian Islands and return by either
of several lines of steamers from $110
up. Yellowstone National Park is
reached from Livingston on the North-
ern Pacific (to Gardner and return
$3.20). A six-day trip in the park from
Gardner costs $40 and another of 5|
days $53.50. Yellowstone Park may alsa
be reached from Ogden on the Union
Pacific by a branch to Yellowstone
(round trip $9.25). From here a five-
day trip in the park costs $35 and a six-
day trip $40.

The Yosemite National Park is
reached by Southern Pacific or Santa
Fe lines, stopping at Merced, CaL
Round trip from Merced to Valley
$18.50. Both hotels and comfortable
camps may be found at the camp. Sev-
eral groves of Big Trees may be visited
from the Valley. One grove very much
visited is only six miles from Santa
Cruz (on the Southern Pacific).

Alaska may be visited by steamer
trip from Seattle or Vancouver. Round
trip from Seattle $66 and up. From
Prince Rupert (on Grank Trunk) a
trip to Alaska may be made at an addi-
tional expense of about $30.

Attention may be called to two pub-
lications which will add to the scientific
interest of the trip. The Pacific Coast
Committee of the American Association
has compiled a guide book entitled
' ' Nature and Science on the Pacific
Coast," which contains a large num-
ber of articles by leading men of sci-
ence. The United States Geological
Survey has prepared four guide books
covering railway routes west of the
Mississippi. These books, which con-
tain full descriptions and excellent
maps, may be obtained by sending one
dollar for each to the Superintendent of
Documents, Washington, D. C.

NATIONAL CONTRIBUTIONS TO
SCIENCE

Art and religion, like language and
customs, may be national, science is by
its nature international. Each of the
sciences and nearly every branch of

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

207

each science consists of contributions
made over a long period of time and
from widely separated places. One of
the evil results in the universal disaster
of this mad war is that the orderly prog-
ress of science is interrupted. Each
week men of science are killed on the
field of battle, and young men from
whom science must be recruited die by
the thousands. The universities of Ox-
ford and of Cambridge boast that each
has sent some 8,000 men to the war, and
the average life of a British officer
after he reaches the front is said to be
thirty days. Almost as serious as the
sacrifice of men is the loss of the wealth
needed for scientific research, and per-
haps more disastrous than either is the
inevitable distraction of interest and
unbalancing of judgment.

There is a marked disposition at pres-
ent for the scientific men of England
and France to disparage work which has
been done in Germany, and conversely.
It is consequently pleasant to read a dis-
cussion of this subject such as is con-
tributed to a book on ' ' German Cul-
ture" (Jacks; 1915) and to Knowledge
by Professor J. Arthur Thomson of the
University of Aberdeen, whose recent
article on ' ' Eugenics and War ' ' in this
journal will be remembered by its read-
ers. He argues that Britain, France
and Germany run neck and neck in their
contributions to science, and illustrates
this by a series of corresponding names
which are here reproduced. It will be
noted that the British names are ar-
ranged alphabetically and that for each
is given a French and German equiva-
lant.

British French Garman

Balfour Laeaze- Eoux

Dalton Duthiers Bunsen

Darwin Lavoisier Kepler

Davy Lamarck Weber

Faraday Legendre Clausius

Fitzgerald Fourier Hertz

Foster Becquerel Ludwig

Galton Claude

Bernard Weismann
Graham Delage Liebig

Green Berthelot Gauss

Hunter Galois Gegenbaur

Harvey Cuvier Humboldt

Hooker

Bichat

Sachs

Huxley

de Jessieu

liaeckel

Joule

Buffon

Mayer

Jenner

Car not

Behring

Kelvin

Bordet

Helmholtz

Lankester

Laplace

Johannes

Lister

Giard

Mii Her

Lodge

Pasteur

Virchow

Maxwell

Ampere

Ohm

Ross

Pomcare

Boltzmann

Burdon-

Laveran

Koch

Sanderson

Brown-

Bois-

Spencer

Sequard

Baymond

Smith, Win.

Bergson

Lotze

Stokes

Gaudry

Suess

Thomson, J.

J.Lagrange

Cantor

Wei don

Cauchy

Kirchoff

Wright

Quetelet

Zittel

Richet

Ehrlieh

It is easy

to criticise

any such selei

tion. If we go back to Harvey, Newton
should surely be credited to England,
and if Kepler is included for Germany,
there is no reason why Kant rather than
Lotze should not be taken as its repre-
sentative philosopher. The three con-
temporary zoologists and the two physiol-
ogists credited to England are scarcely
among the world 's great men of science.
But Professor Thomson only claims to
use a rough and ready method. His sets
of names may be studied to advantage.
As he remarks, if we could, as we can
not, represent the merits of three
counterparts — British, French and Ger-
man— by the three sides of a triangle,
the lengths would now be in favor of
Britain, again in favor of France, and
again in favor of Germany ; yet a super-
position of a number of triangles suffi-
ciently large to get rid of conspicuous
inequalities would yield a not very irreg-
ular figure.

TEE NEW SCIENCE MUSEUM IN
LONDON

We take from the London Times a
sketch and some description of the new
Science Museum which is to be erected
in London between the Natural History
Museum and the Imperial College of
Science. This building and the one at
Munich are the first buildings to be
especially constructed for museums of

208

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

physical science. The building here
shown will occupy about one third of
the space, the remainder of which will
be left for future extension. When
complete the exhibition space will con-
sist of three large roof-lighted halls,
200 by 100 feet, with surrounding gal-
leries on the first and second floors
lighted from the sides and from a large
central well. It is intended to exhibit
the larger and heavier objects, such as
locomotives and engines, on the ground
floor of the new building.

The museum has a great collection of
objects illustrating the history of dis-
covery and invention and the principles
of experimental and mechanical science.
These include: The earliest steam en-
gines constructed by James Watt for
industrial purposes, Stephenson's "Roc-
ket" locomotive, Symington's steam en-
gine, which was the first to propel a
boat, and the engine of the "Comet"
steamboat. Arkwright 's original spin-
ning machinery, Wheatstone's electric
telegraph apparatus and other machines
and instruments of vast importance con-
tributed by Great Britain to civilization.

Science collections were first arranged
in the South Kensington Museum in
1857, but of the early mechanical ob-
jects and models the most important are
those which were brought together in
the Patent Office Museum and handed
over to the Department of Science and
Arts in 1883. The collection of scien-
tific instruments and apparatus took
origin when certain of the objects in-
cluded in the loan collection of 1876
were deposited in the museum. This

collection already includes many illus-
trations of scientific investigation and
inquiry that are of historic interest.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS

We record with regret the death of
Mrs. Matilda Coxe Stevenson, for the
last twenty-five years ethnologist in the
Bureau of American Ethnology; of
Lieut.-Col. Charles E. Woodruff, U. S. A.,
retired, known for his publications on
the effects of sunlight and other sub-
jects; of Dr. Hugo Muller, F.R.S.,
past-president of the British Chemical
Society, and of Sir A. H. Church,
F.R.S., formerly professor of chemistry
in the Royal Academy of Arts, London.

Amherst College at its recent com-
mencement conferred its doctorate of
laws on Professor Benjamin K. Emer-
son, class of 1865, for forty-five years
teacher of geology in Amherst College.
Wesleyan University has conferred the
same degree on William North Rice,
who was graduated from the institution
fifty years ago.

Surgeon-General Rupert Blue, of
the Public Health Service, was elected
president of the American Medical Asso-
ciation at the recent San Francisco
meeting. — Dr. Viktor von Lang, emer-
itus profesor of physics at Vienna, has
been elected president of the Vienna
Academy of Sciences. — Lord Fisher,
former first sea lord of the British
admiralty, has been appointed chairman
of an "inventions board," which will
assist the admiralty in coordinating and
encouraging naval science.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY

SEPTEMBER, 1915

THE EVOLUTION OF THE STARS AXD THE FORMATION

OF THE EARTH1

Bt WILLIAM WALLACE CAMPBELL

DIRECTOR OF THE LICK OBSERVATORY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

Introduction

I TWER Y serious student of nature asks, sooner or later: What was
-J the origin of the stars? What has been their history? And
what does the future hold in store for them ?

In harmony with our experience is the belief that all matter in the
universe is endowed with the property of obe}dng certain fundamental
laws, such as : every particle of matter attracts every other particle ; a
hotter body radiates its heat energy to a cooler body; gases expand in-
definitely unless resisted by gravitation or other effective force. Again,
everything in nature is growing older and changing in condition;
slowly or rapidly, depending npon circumstances; the meteorological
elements and gravitation are tearing down the high places of the Earth ;
the eroded materials are transported to the bottoms of valleys, lakes and
seas; and these results beget further consequences. In general, the
changes in small bodies proceed rapidly and in great bodies slowly.

Astronomers believe there has been an orderly development of the
stars, in obedience to precisely the same simple laws that govern our
every-day affairs. Starting with the materials as already existing, our
problem is to trace in outline the probable course of the evolutionary
processes which have given us the stellar universe.

The effort to find a solution brings us against two superlative diffi-
culties :

First, save only the Earth and an occasional meteorite, all the bodies
that concern us are at tremendous distances. We must study them at
long range, through the reading and interpretation of the messages which
their own rays of light and heat carry from them to us. We bring

i Second course of lectures on the William Ellery Hale Foundation, National
Academy of Sciences, delivered at the meeting of the Academy in the University
of Chicago, on December 7 and S, 1914.

VOL. LXXXUI. — 15.

2io THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

bodies closer, in effect, by means of telescopes, bnt the reduced distances
are still heroic. The stars, some of which are many millions of kilo-
meters in diameter, are still seen as mere points of light in our most
powerful telescopes, even though the telescopes magnify 3,000-fold.

Secondly, the evolutionary processes are exceedingly deliberate. We
do not know that any progressive changes have ever been noted in any
celestial body, except in the comets and meteorites, in the Earth's surface
strata, and possibly in the so-called new stars. We observe changes in
the clouds of Jupiter, changes in the surface features of the Sun, and
some 4,000 stars are known to vary in brightness; but all these are
short-period changes, and they do not indicate that progressive or per-
manent changes are involved.

We can get no help in our problem by waiting for any star to show
signs of change in physical condition — we should probably have to wait
tens of thousands, and perhaps millions, of years. We must take the
heavenly bodies as they are, try to fit them into an orderly series repre-
senting the various stages of evolutionary development, and justify our
arrangement by means of the evidence collected.

We need, first of all, to comprehend as thoroughly as possible what
the individual heavenly bodies are, how they are arranged in space, and
how they are related to each other, both physically and geometrically.
At the cost of telling you many things you have already learned I shall
recall a few features in the structure of the solar system and of the stellar
system, and describe briefly the characteristics of each class of objects
with which we have to deal.

The Solar System.

In the solar system we have the great central body, our Sun, around
which revolve the 8 major planets and their 26 moons, the 800 minor
planets or asteroids discovered to date, the zodiacal-light materials, the
comets and the meteors. The Sun is one of the ordinary stars. It
seems very large, very bright and very hot, because it is relatively near
to us, and we receive from it our entire supply of energy; but, com-
pared with the thousands of other stars visible on any clear night, it is
merely an average star. Nevertheless, the Sun is a very large body; if
it wore a hollow shell of its present diameter we could pour more than
a million Earths into it and still leave empty the space between the
earth-balls. Traveling outward from the Sun we come, first, to the
small planet Mercury, its diameter a little more than one third the
Earth's diameter, which revolves once around the Sun in 88 days; sec-
ondly, to the planet Venus, just a shade smaller than the Earth, with
period of revolution 225 days; and thirdly, to the Earth and its moon,
which revolve around the Sun in one year. Fifty per cent, farther out
than the Earth is Mars, its diameter a trifle more than one half the
Earth's, with two tiny moons, and period of revolution 1.9 years. Next

Fig. 1. The Zodiacal Light.

2i2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

are the asteroids, about 800 discovered to date, which revolve around
the Sun, each in its own orbit, in from II to 8 years, the orbits varying
greatly in size, eccentricity and position of orbit planes; then we come
to the giant Jupiter, its diameter 11 times the Earth's diameter, and 9
moons, the system completing a revolution about the Sun in 12 years;
still farther out is Saturn, its diameter 9 times the Earth's, with its
wonderful ring system and 9 moons, all revolving around the Sun in
29-2 years ; next is Uranus, 4 times the Earth in diameter, with 4 moons,
all revolving around the Sun once in 84 years ; and finally we come to
the outermost-known planet, Xeptune, a shade larger than Uranus, and
its one moon, this planet requiring 165 years to travel around the Sun.

Again, as to the material which composes the solar system : its dis-
tribution is most remarkable. Xearly all of it is in the Sun. If we
add together the masses of the major planets, the hundreds of asteroids,
the satellites, make liberal allowance for the comets, etc., and call the
total 1. then the mass of the Sun on the same scale is 744; that is, of
7 r> ] »arts of matter composing our Solar System, 744 parts are in the
Sun and only 1 part is in the bodies revolving around it. To state it
differently, 99% per cent, is in the Sun. and only Y- of 1 per cent, is
divided up to make the planets, satellites, asteroids, comets and meteors.
The four outer planets, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Xeptune contain
225 times as much material as the four inner planets, Mercury, Venus,
Earth and Mars. The Earth is fully 3,000 times as massive as the 800
asteroids combined. There is the zodiacal-light material, which, in a
more or less finely-divided state, as dust grains or very small bodies,
revolves around the Sun, each separate particle in effect a minute planet.
This matter, distributed through a great volume of space somewhat the
shape of a double-convex lens, whose center coincides with the Sun, and
Avhose edge extends out at least as far as the Earth's orbit, reflects and
scatters the Sun's rays falling upon it. and causes the illumination
easily visible after sunset in the west and before sunrise in the east.
Then there are the comets which pass in orbits usually very elongated
around the Sun, their tails pointing approximately away from the Sun;
and the meteoric matter, which, at least in part, and quite possibly all,
revolves around the Sun in elliptic orbits. Occasionally a meteorite
gets through our atmosphere to the Earth's surface, is found and is in-
stalled in a museum; but many millions which collide with our atmos-
phere every 24 hours are consumed by frictional heat in the atmosphere
and lose their identity.

It is a most remarkable fact that all the planets revolve in orbits
lying nearly in the same plane. Let us call the distance from the Sun
to the Earth 1 ; then the distance from the Sun to Xeptune is 30; and
the diameter of Xeptune's orbit is 60. Xow our system lies so nearly
in one plane that we could put it in a very flat band-box 60 units in
diameter and only 1 unit thick, so that all the major planets and their

EVOLUTION OF THE STABS 213

satellites, and all the asteroids with a very few exceptions, would per-
form their motions entirely within the box. The exceptional asteroids
and the majority of the comets would dip out of the box because the
planes in which their orbits lie make considerable angles with the
central plane of the solar system.

It is an equally remarkable fact that the eight planets and the 800
asteroids are all revolving around the Sun in the same direction, which
we call west to east. Likewise, the Sun rotates on its axis from west
to east, and so also do Mercury, Venus, the Earth and its Moon, Mars,
Jupiter and Saturn. Our moon, Mars's two moons, the seven inner
moons of Jupiter, Saturn's rings and eight of its moons, revolve around
their plants from west to east. From Jupiter out to Neptune we come
upon exceptions to the rule. The eighth and ninth moons of Jupiter
go around the planet from east to west. The ninth moon of Saturn is
similarly reversed in direction. The four moons of Uranus move in a
plane making an angle of 98° with the principal plane of the solar
system; that is, nearly at right angles to the principal plane. The
one moon of Xeptune moves in a plane inclined 145° to the plane of
the system; in effect, from the east toward the west. The equatorial
planes of Uranus and Xeptune are. without doubt, essentially coinci-
dent with their satellite planes.

The Stellar System.

Our solar system is very completely isolated from other systems.
Light travels from our Sun out to Xeptune in less than 44 hours, yet it
requires 44 years to travel from our Sun to the nearest star, a Centauri.
Stating the case differently, the nearest star is more than 9.000 times
as far from our system as our farthest planet, Xeptune, is from the
Sun. We should have to go 7 light-years from our Sun in another
direction to reach the second-nearest star. It is 9 light-years in a still
different direction to Sirius. The average distances between neigh-
boring stars, at least in our part of the universe, is 6 or 7 or 8 light-
years. We can see that the stars themselves occupy very little space,
and that they have an abundance of room to move about. Recalling,
further, that the average speed of the stars is about 26 kilometers per
second, which means that about 80,000 years would be required for the
average star to travel over the average distance to its neighbor, we can
see that collisions of two stars must be exceedingly rare; and that close
approaches of two stars, approaches so close as to disturb each other
violently, must also be rare. However, when we consider the number
of stars in the stellar system, we should perhaps expect a few close
approaches to occur in a human life time; possibly also a grazing colli-
sion, but probably no full collision.

The universe of stars — our stellar system — is believed by students
of the subject, all but unanimously, to occupy a limited volume of space

Fig. 2. Milky Way in Constellation Cygnus neae tee Stab Gamma, photographed
by Professor Barnard with the 10-inch Bruce camera of the Yerkes Observatory.

EVOLUTION OF THE STABS 215

that is somewhat the shape of a very flat pocket-watch ; more strictly, a
much flattened ellipsoid or spheroid. However, it is not intended to
convey the impression that the boundaries of the stellar system are
sharply defined, or that the stars are uniformly distributed throughout
the spheroid, and all at once, at the surface of the spheroid, cease to
exist; but only that the stars are more or less irregularly distributed
throughout a volume of space roughly spheroidal in form, and that the
thinning out of stars near the confines of the system may be quite
gradual and irregular. The equatorial plane of the spheroid is coinci-
dent with the central plane of the Milky Way. We see the Milky Way
as a bright band encircling the sky, because in looking toward the
Milky Way we are looking out through the greatest depth of stars.
There is considerable uncertainty as to the dimensions of the system,
chiefly for two reasons: first, the stars near the surface of the spheroid
are everywhere too far away to let us measure their distances directly,
and, in fact, so far away that we have not been able to measure their
transverse motions — their proper motions — and thus to gain indirectly
an idea of their distances; and secondly, the spheroid may be consid-
erably larger than it seems because of possible, and even probable, ab-
sorption or obstruction of star-light in its passage through space.
Newcomb has suggested that the shorter radius of the spheroid, at right
angles to the plane of the Milky Way, may be taken as of the order of
3,000 light-years. The long radii of the spheroid, that is, the radii in
the plane of the Milky Way, may be at least 10 times as great; that is,
30,000 light-years or more.

The solar system is believed to he somewhere near the center of the
stellar system: the counts of stars in all parts of the sky indicate that
the Milky Way structure is not much closer to us, .so to speak, in one
direction than in other directions; there are about as many stars on
one side of a plane through the central line of the Milky Way as there
are on the other. Wilhelm Struve's statistical studies of stellar distri-
bution led him to conclude that the effective central line of the Milky
Way is not a " great circle," but a " small circle," lying at a distance of
92° from the north pole of the- galaxy and 88° from the south pole of
the galaxy. Interpreted, this means that the solar system lies a short
distance north of the central plane of the stellar system.

This conception of the stellar universe and Milky Way agrees in all
important particulars with Immanuel Kant's ideas and description pub-
lished in the year 1755 — a remarkable contribution, based essentially
on naked-eve observations, without the advantage of accurate observa-
tions laboriously made with telescopes. However, it was the star
counts by the two Herschels, father and son, which put this conception
of the stellar system upon the basis of confidence. Sir William Her-
schel, using an 18-inch reflecting telescope in the northern hemisphere,
and Sir John Herschel. using the same telescope in the southern

216 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

hemisphere, counted the stars visible in the eyepiece, 15 minutes of
arc in diameter, in 7,300 regions distributed rather uniformly over
the entire sky. They found that the number of stars decreased rapidly
as they passed from the central plane of the Milky Way toward the
north and south poles of the galaxy. Here is a table deduced by Struve
from the Herschels' counts.

Average Number of Stars

Galactic Latitude Zones

Per Field '5' in Diameter

+ 90°- + 75°

4.32

+ 75 - + 60

5.42

+ 60 - + 45

8.21

+ 45 - + 30

13.61

+ 30 - + 15

24.09

+ 15 - 0

53.43

0 15

59.06

— 15 30

26.29

— 30 -—45

13.49

-45 - -60

9.08

— 60 75

6.62

— 75 - - 90

6.05

Tbe average number of stars in the Milky Way zone 30° wide, that
is, in galactic latitude +15 to — 15, visible in the eyepiece of the
telescope, was 56, whereas in the region surrounding the north and
south galactic poles the average number visible in the same eyepiece
was but 5. The great condensation in the Milky Way is not fully evi-
dent from the table. The stars are much more numerous near the cen-
tral line of the Milky Way than they are near its borders. The average
number along the central line, found by Sir William Herschel, was 122.
There is no reason to doubt that the preponderance of stars visible in
the direction of the Milky Way is due to the greater extension of the
stellar system in that direction than in the direction of the galactic
poles.

It has been noted by several observers that the faintest stars visible
in telescopes of moderate size, that is, stars of the 14th, 15th and 16th
magnitudes, are plentiful in the Milky Way and very scarce at a dis-
tance from the Milky Way. The contrast between Milky Way and
non-Milky Way regions is scarcely noticeable in the naked eye stars, but
it becomes stronger and stronger as we. pass to the fainter stars.2

If there is an absorption of light in its passage through space, such
that the very distant stars are appreciably reduced in brightness, then
the stars of average size and physical condition must be invisible to us
when they are farther away than a certain limiting distance, and in
that case the extent of tbe universe in the direction of the Milky Way

2 A recent study of Mr. Franklin Adams's excellent photographs of the sky,
by Messrs. Chapman and Melotte, shows a considerably smaller disparity in the
numbers of faint stars in the galactic and non-galactic regions than the Her-
schels and others found.

EVOLUTION OF THE STARS 217

may be vastly greater than we have described it; but this consideration
would not act to increase the radius of the actual stellar system in the
direction of the poles of the galaxy by any appreciable amount.

Investigations conducted principally at the Harvard and Greenwich
Observatories indicate that the number of stars visible in our largest
telescopes is of the order of (30,000,000 or 70,000,000, and that the
number which can be recorded on photographic plates by means of
long exposures with our largest reflecting telescopes is several times
as great.

Investigations by Newcomb and Kelvin upon the gravitational
power of the stellar universe to produce the observed velocities of the
stars give indications that the visible stars contain in reality only a
fraction, perhaps one fifth, of the gravitating materials concerned, and
they conclude that more material exists in dark and invisible stars than
in the visible ones. I am inclined to regard their estimates of dark
material as of questionable accuracy, on account of the purely arbitrary
assumptions involved.

Stellar Motions

It is necessary that we consider briefly the motions of the stars, in-
cluding that of our own star. It has been found that all celestial
bodies., as far as they have been studied, are in motion with reference to
the entire system, and with reference to each other. Our Sun is no
exception to the rule: it is traveling rapidly through the stellar system,
carrying its planets and their satellites along with it. The apparent
motions of the individual stars are not in general their real motions:
they are a compound of the real motions and of our motion. If the
other stars were really at rest in the great system, they would still
seem to be moving because our star is carrying us past them, so to speak :
the nearer stars would seem to be moving rapidly, and the more distant
stars less rapidly, away from that point in the sky which we are ap-
proaching. Since the stars are really moving in a great variety of di-
rections, with a great variety of speeds, their apparent motions are also
in a great variety of directions, but the prevailing tendency of their
motions is away from our goal. "

By studying these compounded motions, Herschel, in 1783, and a
long line of distinguished investigators following Herschel, have estab-
lished that our solar system is traveling toward a point in distant
space about on the boundary line between the constellations Hercules
and Lyra. If the solar system is moving rapidly toward that point,
the stars in that vicinity should, on the average, seem to be approaching
us, and the stars in the opposite region of the sky should, on the aver-
age, seem to be receding from us. The spectrograph enables us to
measure the rates of approach and recession of the individual stars. It
has been found that while the hundreds of bright stars in the Hercules-
Lyra region are traveling, some away from us and some toward us, with

218 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

a very great variety of speeds, yet, on the average, that group of stars
seems to be approaching ns at the rate of 19 kilometers per second.
In a similar manner it has been found that the stars near the opposite
point of the sky, while moving individually with a great variety of veloci-
ties of approach and recession, are, on the average, receding from the solar
system with a speed of 19 kilometers per second. No one questions
the explanation of these facts: the solar system is traveling toward the
Hercules-Lyra region with a speed of 19 kilometers per second. If,
now, the speed of 19 kilometers per second be maintained, and the longer
radii of our stellar system be 30,000 light years, we should require a
period of -150,000,000 years to travel from the center to the circum-
ference of our system. The youth of the solar system was probably
spent in a very different part of the stellar system from where it now is.

Comets

Are the comets bona fide members of the solar system as the planets
are, or are they transient visitors from the greater stellar system?
Immanuel Kant in 1755 advocated the view that the comets are genuine
members of the solar system. From 40 to 70 years later Laplace advo-
cated the other view, that the comets belong to the great stellar system,
and that a few of them happen, in the course of their travels, to en-
counter the solar system. The latter view prevailed from Laplace's
time almost up to to-day. If the comets are of our solar system they
should move in elliptic orbits; that is, they should return again and
again to the vicinity of the Sun.

If the Sun were at rest with reference to the stellar system and the
comets should start with exceedingly small velocities from a very great
distance, say 20 or more light years away, they would travel around our
Sun in curves which we could not distinguish from parabolas. Inter-
preted, this means that they would eventually go back to approximately
the same distant region of space from which they started and never
again return to the solar system. If the comets should start toward us,
from interstellar space, with appreciable velocities, they would move
around the Sun in hyperbolic orbits, curves whose branches, one com-
ing in toward the Sun and one going out from the Sun, diverge widely;
such comets would go away to a region of space totally different from
that which they had occupied before their solar visits and never return
either to us or to their original habitation. Since the Sun is not at
rest in the stellar system, but is traveling 19 kilometers per second
toward the Lyra-Hercules constellations, it can be shown that the forms
of the orbits of comets coming from interstellar space, whether they
start from rest or with the average speed of the stars, would, in gen-
eral, be strongly hyperbolic. The observed facts are that of the more
than 400 cometary orbits determined, only 8 or 9 have been suspected
to be hyperbolic. Further, the recent researches of Fabry and Strom-

EVOLUTION OF THE STABS 219

gren have shown that all of the suspected cases either rest upon insuffi-
cient observations of the comets at the time of their appearance, so that
the orbits are uncertain, or that the disturbing attractions of our
planets have converted the orbits from the elliptic to the hyperbolic
form after the comets have got well within our planetary system.
Another fact is equally important. By virtue of our rapid travels toward
the Lyra-Hercules region we should meet more comets coming from that
direction than there are comets overtaking us from the opposite direc-
tion. To state this point differently : of the comets which swing around
the Sun, a greater number should have come into our system from the
Lyra-Hercules region than from any other region, and especially from
the region of sky which we are leaving behind. The facts are other-
wise: we can not say that the approaches of comets favor any particular
direction.

The orbits of the great majority of comets are very close to the para-
bolic form. The nature of comets is such that they are under observa-
tion for a few weeks or a few months, and only an occasional one for
a year or more. When but a small section of the orbit has been thus
observed it is difficult to decide between the parabola and a very elon-
gated ellipse. It happens, however, when these comets have been ac-
curately observed through many months, and the disturbing attractions
of our planets have been taken into account, that the orbits are found
to be very long ellipses and not parabolas; some of the ellipses are so
elongated that thousands, and occasionally hundreds of thousands of
years, are required to complete one circuit of the Sun. Let us assume
that a comet belonging to the solar system starts at rest, with reference
to the solar system, from a point midway between a Centauri and our
Sun, and travels around our Sun. It would be 00.000.000 years in
reaching us, or 120.000,000 years in completing its circuit. It is evi-
dent that an immense amount of cometary material must exist in the
outer regions of our Sun's gravitational field in order that a minute
part of it may visit the Sun every three months, which is about the
average interval of time between the coming of these bodies.

It should lie noted that the planes of the very elongated comet orbits
show no preference for small angles with the plane of the solar system:
they intersect the solar system plane at all angles, and these comets
come into our system from all directions indifferently.

We must hold, I think, that the comets are genuine members of our
solar system : the great majority spend most of their time in the outer
parts of our system, far beyond the orbits of Xeptune, but they are mov-
ing through space as companions to our Sun as truly as the Earth and
Jupiter are.

Aside from the comets which come from great distances, there are, of
course, the so-called periodic comets which move in relatively short
ellipses, revolving around the Sun in a few years, and reappearing at

2 2o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

predicted times and places. About 60 such comets have been observed
with periods less than 100 years. There is the great Jupiter family of
comets, about 30 in the famity, so-called because their aphelions — the
points of the orbits farthest from the Sun — lie near Jupiter's orbit.
Their periods vary from 3 to 8 years, their motions around the Sun are
all from west to east, as in the case of the planets, and their orbit
planes make small angles with the plane of the solar system. In a simi-
lar way there are two Saturn comets, three Uranus comets, and six Nep-
tune comets, one of the latter being Halley's. Halley's comet is re-
volving around the Sun from east to west; that is, in a retrograde
direction ; and the motions of two comets which disappeared many years
ago were likewise from east to west. The motions of all the other
short-period comets are from west to east.

The origin of the periodic comets is an interesting question. New-
ton, of Yale, who was the chief student of the subject, gave practical
certainty to the view that the periodic comets have been captured, so
to speak, by the major planets, and especially by Jupiter; that is, that
comets approaching the Sun in their elongated orbits and passing close
to the major planets have had their orbits converted, either during one
visit or cumulatively during several visits, into the forms we now ob-
serve. Perhaps the strongest doubt as to the sufficiency of the explana-
tion arises from the fact that 95 per cent, of the motions appear to be
from west to east. Newton's theory seems to demand that about 25
per cent, of Jupiter's comets should move in retrograde orbits, whereas
none of Jupiter's comets, nor the two Saturn comets, do so move. Three
of the eleven comets related to Uranus and Neptune, namely, Halley's
comet and two lost comets, travel in the retrograde direction. The cap-
ture theory is technical and we must not pursue it. Fortunately, there
is another avenue of approacb. Barnard has noted that the short-
period comets differ in appearance from those which come to our system
unexpectedly, in that the former are the more diffuse in appearance;
that is, they have larger diameters in proportion to their total bright-
ness. There is reason to believe that the head of a comet consists prin-
cipally of separate small bodies. Now in a collection of small bodies
the gravitational forces holding them together are extremely slight.
When the group approaches the center of the solar system the Sun's
attractions upon the nearer members of the group are appreciably
stronger than upon the members which are farthest from the Sun. The
orbital motions of the nearer particles are relatively quickened and
those of the farther particles relatively delayed. If the comet is trav-
eling upon a very elongated orbit the mutual attractions within the
head can again be effective while the comet is in the outer parts of the
orbit, and a condensing process probably occurs; but, if the orbit ex-
tends out only as far as Jupiter or other major planets, there is little
opportunity for the internal attractions to re-condense the particles, and

EVOLUTION OF THE STARS

221

the next approach to the Sun carries the scattering process a step
further. Kepeated returns to the Sun dissipate the individual consti-
tuents of the comet more widely. The intensity of the comet's light
is reduced, and eventually it becomes too faint for discovery and obser-
vation. There is little room to doubt that this process is responsible for
the total disappearance of several periodic comets.

Meteor Steeams
The argument is strongly supported by the meteor streams. It is
well known that on certain nights of the year we see an unusually large
number of meteors, which come from certain definite directions in space.
These meteors have been extensively observed and their orbits have
been computed. The illustration shows the orbits of four such swarms.

/ 1 0rM °' ^^te^--^^/

3 L / /
3 IS I A

\ \ /^

\ ^L &

if

7 /

Fig. 3. Orbits of Meteoric Swarms, which are known to be associated with comets.

They intersect the Earth's orbit at certain computed points. We pass
through those points on certain nights of the year and the meteoric
materials moving in the one orbit collide with the Earth in the other
orbit. Xow, it has been shown that the orbits of these four meteor
streams and of one other stream are the orbits of five periodic comets
which have disappeared from sight. Clearly, the cometary materials
had been gradually scattered by the disintegrating effect of the Sun's
attraction, and the separate particles were compelled to move in orbits
differing slightly from each other, and from the recognized orbits of
the comets. The meteoric collisions with the Earth are such as to
show that we are dealing with widely separated small masses moving
in orbits nearly identical with each other.

In the case of these five swarms there is certainly a close connection
between meteors and comets. Whether all meteoric matter has come
from the disintegration of comets can not be answered now. We can

222 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

say that since the Earth actually passes through at least five promi-
nent meteor swarms,3 there ought to be thousands of invisible swarms
within our solar system which we do not pass through. Newton's in-
vestigations led him to the conclusion that about 90 per cent, of the
meteors which have encountered the Earth and have been observed
with sufficient accuracy to let us determine their orbits are moving
around the Sun in eccentric orbits of short periods, like those of the
short-period comets, and in the west-to-east direction.

The certainty of rapid disintegration of the periodic comets — ex-
tremely rapid in comparison with astronomical time-intervals — is all
but equivalent to saying that the periodic comets have been recently
captured by our planets; for the periodic comets which we are still
observing could not have been following their present orbits during
many centuries, except at the price of disintegration to the point of
total disappearance.

The Zodiacal Light

The zodiacal light is a closely related subject. The phenomenon
is clue to the presence of countless small particles of solid matter vary-
ing perhaps from dust particles up to bodies perhaps many cubic inches
or even larger in volume, which scatter the sunlight falling upon them.
The volume of space occupied by this finely divided material is very
great. It extends north from the Sun to a distance of the order of
100,000,000 kilometers, and there is no reason to doubt an equal south-
ern extension, for observations made in the west after sunset and in the
east before sunrise indicate that the structure is symmetrical with re-
spect to the Sun. Its extent in the principal plane of the solar system
in all directions from the Sun is even greater. In such clear skies as
exist on the tops of mountains the zodiacal light can be seen to stretch
entirely across the sky as a faint band following the ecliptic; and this
is proof abundant that the materials which scatter the light extend be-
yond the Earth's orbit.

Inasmuch as we do not distinguish the individual particles which
make up the zodiacal light materials, we can not now say whether they
are revolving around the Sun from west to east, but we can not doubt
the fact that they are revolving around the Sun and that the orbits
of a large proportion of the particles are necessarily in planes highly
inclined to the general plane of the solar system. Seeliger is of the
opinion that this material supplies the attracting mass which disturbs
the motion of Mercury, and to a lesser degree the motions of Venus,
Earth and Mars. If this be true the total mass of the particles must
approximate to that of the planet Mercury.

Where this material came from, whether it is a remnant of the
original material which formed the inner planets and the Sun, or
whether it has come in from the outer confines of the Sun's sphere of

s Numerous minor streams are reported by meteor observers.

EVOLUTION OF THE STABS 223

influence in the same way that the comets have transported very distant
materials into the terrestrial region, is wholly unknown.

Stars Clusters

The star clusters offer a wide range of character, as to their density
of stellar contents and as to the symmetry of distribution. There are
the large irregular clusters visible to the eye, such as the Pleiades,
Praesepe, the Perseus clusters, in which the stars are widely separated
and irregularly distributed. There are the globular clusters, invisible
to the naked eye, except in three or four cases, which contain multi-
tudes of faint stars densely crowded together and quite symmetrically
arranged. The great cluster in Hercules is the most striking example
in the northern skies. The accompanying photograph, secured with
the 60-inch reflector of the Mount Wilson Observatory, records stars
to the order of 30,000, each star a sun as truly as is our star. There
are two still more extensive clusters in the Southern Hemisphere, but
they have not yet been photographed on the same scale as the northern
clusters. The globular clusters, of various degrees of stellar richness,
exist to the number of several scores.

There are two great agglomerations of stars — two dense clouds of
stars — occupying isolated positions in the far southern sky, quite dis-
tant from the Milky Way, which seem to have many of the Milky
Way's attributes. They appear to be great irregular clusters of stars
differing only in size from the vastly greater Milky Way cluster. These
objects are known as the Greater and Lesser Magellanic Clouds.

The Nebulae

The objects which probably concern our subject most directly are
the nebulae. The word nebula means a " little cloud " ; and like little
clouds superimposed upon the dark background of the sky the first
10,000 nebulae looked to their discoverers. They were of various sizes,
from that of the Orion nebula, and even larger, down to those indis-
tinguishable in small telescopes from stars, and to those so faint as to
be on the limit of telescopic vision. The Herschels, father and son,
were the first great discoverers of the nebula?. Lord Ross's reflecting
telescope showed that a few of the very bright and large nebulas, per-
haps two dozen in all, are not formless masses, but spirals — indicating
plainly that they have motions of rotation. It was noticed by Sir
William Herschel, a century ago, that the distribution of the nebulae
on the surface of the sky is most remarkable. Proctor's chart, pub-
lished in 1869, illustrates this fact. On this chart the cloud-like
forms of the Milky Way are outlined across both hemispheres, as seen
by the naked eye, but it should be said that telescopic vision of the
Milky Way would present very different and vastly more uniform out-
lines. Each dot on the chart represents a nebula. He who runs may

Fig. 4. The Great Star Cluster in Hbecules. Photograpned ;it the Mount Wilson

Solar Observatory.

EVOLUTION OF THE ST MIS 225

read that the nebulae in general abhor the Milky Way. In the northern
hemisphere they cluster most densely in the neighborhood of the pole
of the galaxy. In the southern hemisphere they show the same tend-
ency, but not so strongly. There are nebulae in the Milky Way, but

Southern Hemisphere. Northern Hemisphere.

Fig. 5. Distribution of Nebul.e (and Star Clusters). According to Proctor.

Nebulae are marked by dots ; clusters by crosses.

they are relatively few. HerschePs and Proctor's conclusions related
only to the brighter nebula?, which had been discovered by visual
methods.

Before Keeler began to photograph nebulae with the Crossley re-
flector, in 1898, some 10,000 of these bodies had been discovered and
catalogued. A few plates exposed by Keeler here and there over the
northern sky recorded several hundred additional nebula?. Using his
photographs of small areas of the sky as samples, he estimated con-
servatively that at least 120,000 nebula? are discoverable with the Cross-
ley reflector. Further observations by Perrine with the same instru-
ment and by Fath with the 60-inch Mount Wilson reflector have shown
that the number discoverable with fairly short exposures is considerably
greater than 120,000. Path's plates, uniformly distributed over the
northern sky from the North Pole to declination 22°. 5 south of the
Equator, recorded 86-1 nebula? previously unseen. The numbers on the
individual plates are set down in the corresponding area. The curve
drawn across the chart represents the central line of the Milky Way.
The north pole of the galaxy is at N\ The distribution of these faint
nebula? is seen to be patchy, but the fact is in evidence that the faint
nebulae, like those bright enough to be discovered by visual methods,
abhor the Milky Way.

VOL. LXXXVII. — 16.

226

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Keeler's photography of the nebulae led him to open another chapter
in nebular investigation with the startling discovery that "most of the
nebulae have the spiral structure." This applied not only to the faint
nebulae which he discovered, but to the nebulas already known. Keeler's
successors have confirmed this discovery: it is certain that the great
majority of the nebulae have the spiral form. What the relative num-
ber of spirals and formless nebulae may be remains for the future to de-

VI

XVffi

5 3
Fig. 6. Distribution of Faint Nebula discovered at Mount Wilson.

cide. The spirals vary all the way from the great. Andromeda nebula
down to those so small that the photographic plate is just able to sep-
arate the details of structure; and there is no reason to doubt that more
powerful instruments would show still smaller objects to have the spiral
structure.

There are irregular nebulae of all sizes. The brilliant Orion nebula
is diminutive in size compared with the faint nebulosity, discovered by
William H. Pickering in 1889, which forms the background for almost
the whole of the constellation of Orion. The well-known nebulous
structure connected with the brighter Pleiades stars is small in com-
parison with the area covered by a faint exterior nebulosity discovered
by Barnard in 1893. There are very great irregular nebulae such as
the Network Nebula in Cygnus and the nebulous background in the
Greater Magellanic Cloud. Barnard's wonderful photographs of the
Milky Way have recorded many extensive nebulous fields, especially in
regions where the background of the galaxy shows relatively few stars
(see Fig. 2).

The so-called planetary nebulae are of special interest, as we shall
learn in the sequel. Small in size, all more or less dense, some quite

Fig. la. Planetary Nebula, N. G. C. 2,302. Photographed at the Lick Observatory.

Fig. lb. Planetary Nebula, N. G. C. 40. Photographed at the Lick Observatory.

tt i

c >d

— a)

£

x; c

EVOLUTION OF THE STABS 229

regular in outline, and a large proportion containing condensed or stellar
nuclei near their centers, they were called planetaries by Herschel, be-
cause, though faint, they present discs somewhat as the planets do, when
viewed under low power.

There are several scores of so-called stellar nebula1. In moderate-
sized telescopes most of them look like ordinary stars. In large tele-
scopes many of them are hazy, but some are as well defined as stars.
The spectroscope shows that all are true nebula?. If they were much
closer to us we should doubtless see them as planetary nebulae.

A few other interesting objects are known as ring nebulae, the most
noted case being the ring nebula in Lyra.

Among the remarkable facts of the stellar universe are these: the
large irregular nebula?, the ring nebula?, the planetary nebula?, and the
stellar4 nebula3, with relatively rare exceptions, are in or very close to the
Milky "Way : and, on the contrary, the spirals in or near the Milky Way
are of negligible number. The first group are without question an
integral part of our stellar system. The spirals, seem not to be closely
connected with our stellar system, yet their very avoidance of the Milky
Way shows that they bear some intimate relationship to it. There is
no occasion for surprise that a small group of special objects should be
in the Milky Way structure; but that the scores of thousands, and
perhaps hundreds of thousands, of spirals, should abhor the Milky Way
is a fact which immediately arrests our attention and calls for explana-
tion. Moore has suggested that their absence from the Milky Way may
be apparent and not real : that any absorbing or obstructing medium in
the Milky Way structure might prevent the light of the spirals from
reaching us, especially if the spirals are extremely distant. If the light
from very distant nebula? is absorbed or obstructed, as a function of the
angular distance from the galaxy, the nebula1 near the poles of the
galaxy, other things being equal, should on the average be intrinsically
brighter than the nebula? in or near the Milky Way. Secondly, if such
an effect exists, long-exposure photographs on regions near the galaxy
should record nebula? in numbers more nearly equal to those recorded
by short exposures near the poles of the galaxy. An examination of
existing Crossley reflector photographs has led to negative results on this
question, and we must assume that the spiral nebula? really avoid the
Milky Way.

The question of the distances of the spiral nebula? has long been held
in mind. The evidence, to which we shall refer later, is to the effect
that they are very far away, and accordingly that they are of enormously

4 The terms irregular, ring, planetary and stellar are intended merely to
differentiate these objects as to their appearance in the telescope or on the
photographic plate. They do not in themselves indicate differences in constitu-
tion or physical condition. The ring, planetary and stellar nebulae have a great
many characteristics in common.

Fig. 8. The Ring Nebula in Lyra. Photographed at the Lick Observatory.

Fig. 9. Spiral Nebula in Canum Venaticoedm, M. 51. Photographed at the Lick

Observatory.

",--._"*'■"■ ■'

gj ■' | ,

;:';-'< i£L

:tvvS:;4.-

^H

■<;l<H$-":

|§|||i||?

1

BraLt^vj"*^ -^ ' I

1 §1

C "- M mfr "

*/S/\£vi^&^j%K*0 ^*£=

Pig. 10. Spiral Nebula in Leo. M. G.j. Photographed at the Lick Observatory.

EVOLUTION OF THE ST A US

233

great dimensions. This is the particular reason why a few astronomers
suggest that the spirals may be distant systems of stars. They say that
our own stellar system, if viewed from a great distance, might be seen
to have a spiral structure : that it
would be fairly circular in general
outline if viewed from the poles
of the Milky Way, or greatly elon-
gated or spindle-shaped if the ob-
server were in the plane of the
Milky Way. We illustrate this
point by means of well known
spirals viewed broadside, and ob-
liquely, and of the spindle-shaped
nebula?, which we do not doubt
are spirals seen edgewise. Easton,
the principal modern student of
Milky Way structure, has even
gone through the laborious task of
assigning the stars, as seen from
our viewpoint near the supposed
center of the stellar system, to their
assumed places in a spiral struc-
ture. But I need scarcely say that
the subject is too vast for solution
now, or in the near future. If our
stellar system is one of a hundred
thousand or more spiral nebulae, we
have at once the problem of deter-
mining the place of our stellar sys-
tem in the larger universe of sys-
tems, necessarily beginning with
the motion of our system as a whole „ „ m „ „ „

J Fig. 11. The Spiral Nebula H. \.

with reference to the great num.- 41, panum Venaticorum, seen edgewise,
bers of surrounding systems. ' Photographed at the Lick Observatory.

Star Streams

It was supposed, until ten years ago, that the stars are moving ap-
proximately at random, both as to direction and as to speed. In 190-1
Kapteyn announced, on the contrary, that the stars have decided prefer-
ences for motions toward two opposite points in the sky; one point in
the northern edge of Orion, in the Milky Way; and the other point
exactly opposite to this. Investigations by many others have in all cases
confirmed Ivapteyn's discovery. Kapteyn did not mean to say that the
individual stars are moving parallel to a straight line joining these two

234 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

opposite points, but simply that their components of motion parallel to
this line are considerably greater, on the average, than the components
in any other direction. We may visualize his ideas in the following
manner :

Assume the existence, ages ago, of a great cluster or cloud of stars
distributed more or less uniformly through a certain vast volume of
space, whose individual motions were at random in both magnitude and
direction. Assume the existence of an entirely similar group of stars,
occupying another vast volume of space, whose internal motions were
also at random. Assume, further, that these two groups of stars were
traveling through space in such a way that they more or less completely
interpenetrated, with the result that the two groups of stars have now
become a single group. There are stars still moving in all directions,
with speeds of all dimensions within certain limits, and yet there exists
a preference for motion along and parallel to the line which originally
joined the centers of the two groups. Assume now that our Sun is
carrying the terrestrial observer through the combined group in a
direction making a considerable angle with the line of preferential mo-
tion : the apparent motions of the individual stars, as observed from the
solar system, would then have preferences for two directions very
different from the line joining the two original positions of the groups;
we should find a great number deviating by small angles from the two
preferential directions, a small number deviating to a greater extent,
and relatively few whose motions make large angles with the preferential
directions; and this is as the apparent motions of the stars have been
determined by many observers.

Kapteyn's results depend upon proper motion data ; that is, upon
their apparent motions on the surface of the sky. Spectroscopic ob-
servations of stellar motions of approach and recession confirm that the
stars have preferential motions, but to a smaller degree than proper
motion data had indicated.

No one doubts that preferential motions exist, but the explanation is
another matter. Kapteyn does not insist that our stellar system has
actually resulted from the intermingling of two star streams, yet he in-
clines more and more to this point of view, and the hypothesis does seem
to accord better with the observed facts than any other hitherto proposed.
A strong objection to it is its apparent improbability. It does not seem
reasonable that two great clouds of stars, containing all the stars now
in our sidereal universe, should have come together and interpenetrated
so completely as to have produced in an age when we happen to be
the observers a stellar system apparently spheroidal in form. When I
look at the Milky Way, completely encircling the sky, my mind is filled
with doubt. And if two oTeat galaxies of stars have traveled far and
come together, they will travel further and through each other and we
shall have two galaxies again, moving away from each other. It does

EVOLUTION OF THE STARS 235

not follow that the more distant and fainter stars will show the same
preferential motions as the brighter and nearer ones which led Kapteyn
to his hypothesis, though it should be said that a fairly extensive study
of stars fainter than the Kapteyn stars made by Comstock led to results
in good agreement with Kapteyn's. May it not be possible that the
preferential motions observed are in some way connected with rotational
phenomena within our stellar system, especially as the line of prefer-
ential motions lies approximately in the plane of the Milky Way, or
are local to what we may call our region of the system, and not be
true of the system as a whole ?5

An alternative hypothesis of prevailing stellar motions, proposed by
Schwarzschild, seems to have advantages from the point of view of prob-
ability, but it appears not to accord so well with the facts of observation.
Schwarzschild suggests that if from a given point we draw vectors
whose directions and lengths represent the directions and speeds of
existing stellar motions, then the outer extremities of these vectors will
define the surface of an ellipsoid (of preferential motions) having three

unequal axes.

(To be continued)

s Turner has proposed the following explanation of the two star streams :
The whole mass of the stellar system exerts a gravitational influence on the
motion of each star in the system, and the individual stars revolve around the
center of mass of the system in their elongated orbits. One star stream com-
prises all those stars moving away from the center, and the other stream all
those stars moving toward the center. We can not doubt that the motions of the
individual stars are influenced by the gravitational attractions of the stellar
system and of the group of stars nearest to them ; but observational data on
stellar motions must be vastly more extensive than at present in order to test
Turner 's hypothesis.

Halm, of the Cape of Good Hope, has given evidence of the existence of a
third star stream, much less extensive than Kapteyn's two streams.

236 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ANT-HILL FOSSILS

By Professor RICHARD SWANN LULL

YALE UNIVERSITY

LAST summer it was the writer's privilege to lead a small expedi-
tion from Yale to the fossil fields of the west in search for the
relics of bygone creatures to add to the already extensive collections
owned by the university. Our purpose was not solely that of collecting,
however, but to get data concerning the distribution in time of certain
of the ancient faunas, hoping thereby not only to increase the sum of
our knowledge, but to date more accurately some of the wealth of forms
collected by the pioneer expeditions which, under the leadership of
Professor Marsh, penetrated the unknown west in the early seventies.

The work was partly in Nebraska exploring the Tertiary rocks for
the remains of warm-blooded mammals — horses, camels, rhinoceroses,
elephants, and their kindred — and partly in eastern Wyoming, where
one finds sediments of greater age containing the earthly inhabitants of
the closing years of the Age of Reptiles. The mammal collecting is an
old, old story, but the work in Wyoming had many novel features and
forms the theme of this brief essay.

The Mesozoic rocks, those of the Age of Reptiles, are exposed with
their contained fossils in many places in this broad earth of ours, but
nowhere to a greater advantage than in the west, and this is particularly
true of the states of Wyoming, Colorado and Montana. One of the
counties of eastern Wyoming, formerly called Converse county, is
now divided into two portions, of which the westernmost retains its
ancient name, while the eastern part has been called Niobrara after the
long Nebraska river whose source lies here. The latter county includes
one of the most notable of Mesozoic localities, the beds lying on either
side of the confluent Lance and Lightning creeks. The former of these
is a tributary of the Cheyenne river, through which its waters flow into
the Missouri on their long journey to the Gulf.

The strata here exposed belong to the ultimate phase of the Cre-
taceous period, marking the very close of the Reptilian age and possibly
its passage into the Age of Mammals. They cover an area of more
than sixty square miles, and, because of their geographical locality, have
received the name of Lance formation, though they have been called
variously Converse County beds and Ceratops beds, the latter name
having reference to the most characteristic fossils, the horned dinosaurs
or Ceratopsia, whose huge three-horned skulls are the most remarkable

ANT-HILL FOSSILS

237

features of the formation. Our camp lay near the only available water-
hole, in an otherwise dry canyon, tributary to Buck creek, which forms
the eastern boundary of the area. From Buck creek the land rises
gradually to the summit of the divide, whence it falls away to the level
of Lance creek on the west. On the eastern slope the strata, which dip
toward the west at an angle of about ten degrees, form a succession of
outcrops one above the other as one ascends the hill, so that they may be
read in orderly sequence beginning with the oldest in the point of time.
Beyond the divide the clip of the strata and the slope of the ground
coincide so that the revealing outcrops are absent. To the east of Buck
creek, on the other hand, on either side of the little canyon wherein our

Fig. 1. Looking down Speing Ckeek Can vex toward the Ceiutops Beds. In
the foreground and middle distance the strata are of marine origin — Pierre and Fox
Hills formation — the fresh-water Lance sediments lying beyond.

cam]) was pitched, the rocks, while still late Cretaceous, are older than
the Lance formation and of marine origin, for in them the shells of
ancient sea-creatures are abundant.

Geologists tell us that during Cretaceous time the continent of North
America was covered in part by an inland sea having its outlet to the
north into the Arctic Ocean and on the south into what is now the
Gulf of Mexico. Along the western shores of this Cretaceous sea were
long stretches of low-lying lands gradually rising toward the west to the
region of the Bocky Mountains, then in their nascent state. The shore
lands, which rarely extended much above the level of the sea, were

238

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

subject to occasional inundation when the advancing waters covered what
had been land, while their retreat laid bare wide areas which had been
submarine. The evidence of this was before our eyes, for as we went
westward down the canyons, the sea shells would betray the marine
origin of the strata, then as we climbed the slope beyond Buck creek
we could see the older sea-borne sediments pass beneath the newer

$&**<.**

Fig. 2. Lignite Beds in the Lance, indicating the abundance of vegetation.

Lance formation and become replaced by shales and sandstones of
fresh-water origin. Occasionally one came across beds of lignite or
woody coal which pointed to an abundance of vegetation, either forest or
swamp lands wherein plants must have grown luxuriantly.

Out of this classic locality have come the remains of a host of
creatures, the inhabitants of the shores of the old Cretaceous sea, many
of which are now preserved in the Peabody Museum at Yale, the spoil
of former expeditions. These are mostly dinosaurs, land-living reptiles

ANT-HILL FOSSIL

239

which flourished throughout the Mesozoic, but which are here repre-
sented in the climax of their evolutionary career. Some were huge-
headed forms, armed on the snout and above the eyes with horns like
those of cattle and with a wide bony crest which protected the neck.
These were quadrupeds of rhinocerine proportions, but of much greater
size. Others were bipeds with a long tail which served to balance the
body when running on land and was a very efficient propelling organ
when stress of circumstance made it necessary to take to the waters for
retreat. This second group was armor- and weapon-less, with a curious
duck-like expansion of jaws, toothless in front but with a wonderful
battery of more than two thousand teeth in the rear of the mouth. Oc-
casional mummied carcases have been found which betray the defense-
less condition of the scaly skin. Both of these groups were plant feeders,
but a third sort, again erect on the hind limbs, bore teeth and claws
which can only mean a rapacious flesh-feeder, doubtless the arch-enemy
of the other two. These carnivores were represented by small, agile
forms, and by others which were truly gigantic.

The dinosaur remains are pretty widely spread over the present
area, the horned skulls generally occurring in hard concretionary
masses of sandstone, many of which were collected and shipped to New

Fig, 3. Massive Sandstone within which the Dinhsaiks are entombed.

Haven and later to the National Museum in Washington, where the
contained fossils were freed from the investing rock. Most of the

240

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

dinosaur material from this region was collected by John B. Hatcher,
a graduate of Yale, and so thoroughly was his work done that very
little sign of them now remains. What we of the present expedition
especially desired, however, was not to find more dinosaurs, but to hunt
for the remains of the tiny mammals, the forebears of the warm-blooded,
furry quadrupeds of to-day, which carried on a precarious existence in
the midst of such stalking terrors as the giant reptiles.

These mammal remains are known from but few Mesozoic localities
and are valued proportionately. By some lucky chance it was dis-
covered that, although they might be found imbedded in the sediments,
the most productive places, curiously enough, were the ant-hills. These
are numerous and huge though in no way differing from those I have
found in Xew England except in the contained fossils. The ants are
a lusty breed, valiantly uniformed in brown and black, and with very
effective stings, as we have good reason to know. In building their
formicaries they not only collect material from the surrounding sur-
face, but in excavating their subterranean galleries the sand and other

Fig. 4. A Fossil-beaking Ant-hill in which the Bones and Teeth of the tiny

Wakm-blooded Mammals are found.

particles are deposited on top of the growing pile. This was generally
a very symmetrical cone with the entrance almost invariably on the
eastern side, pait way up the slope, while on the western and north-
western aspects the grains of sand were somewhat coarser. We found,
however, on breaking into the nest, that the immediate surface was
somewhat hardened so as to be distinctly crust-like, while within, until
one came to the well-built tunnels, coarse and fine sands were inter-

ANT-HILL FOSSILS 241

mingled. It seemed as though the outer crust and the coarse char-
acter of the sand on the exposed surface were merely the result of wind
and rain which eroded away the finer particles and compacted the
surface, and the evidence of the coarser grains on the westward side
simply pointed to the removal of somewhat heavier material here than
elsewhere by the prevailing westerly winds. I imagine that these
winds were also the determining factor in the placing of the entrance,
although the idea that the warmth-loving insects might thus have wel-
comed the rays of the rising sun did occur to me.

It has been found that in addition to ordinary sand-grains certain
of the ant-hills also contain fossils, tiny teeth, bone fragments, and in
rare instances perfect bones which the ants had unconsciously collected
and which have been the source of much of our knowledge of the smaller
forms which were contemporaneous with the giant reptiles. It was
toward these ant-hills, therefore, that our attention was turned, indeed,
they were the object of our journey. I had a rather imperfect map of
the region which was supposed to show the place where each important
dinosaur specimen had been found and to indicate in a general way the
mammal-producing areas. With its aid a very thorough exploration
was made, the great majority of the localities which were marked being
searched for ant-hills, and these in turn for fossils.

The older method was to shovel the contents of the formicaries into
sacs and leave them until the following day, when the ants would have
left the material, and then to sift it very carefully, searching for the
minute remains of organic life. Much of the "pay dirt" was shipped
directly to New Haven, where it could be investigated more thoroughly
than was possible in the field. Our time, however, was very limited,
so that such refinement of method was impracticable. Then, too, we
were not so intent upon adding to the already great collection at Yale
as upon determining the exact stratigraphic sequence of the mammal-
bearing beds with reference to the geologic column. We therefore at-
tacked the ants' stronghold at once, going over the surface material very
carefully, taking the precaution, however, to put a little earth into the
entrance and pat it down, thus reducing to a minimum the number of
available defenders. The sand was then passed through a common flour
sifter and the residue carefully examined, the tiny teeth and bones
being removed with a pair of forceps. We did not come away unscathed,
for though we brushed aside all the ants we saw, the task would become
so absorbing that before one knew it an ant would fix her jaws into the
skin and, turning the abdomen under, insert the short but thoroughly
efficient sting. After sifting the material we generally replaced it
about as it had been found and, as the ants were uninjured, their fabric
was probably soon restored to its former symmetry by the tireless little
workers, for whom we had a very respectful sympathy in spite of our
wounds.

VOL. LXXXVII. 17.

242 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Near Buck creek itself the ant-hills contained only small sharks'
teeth, showing that they were still built over marine beds. Then as
one mounted the divide and with it crossed higher and higher strata
there was a long interval of totally unproductive formicaries, until the
principal bed of lignite was reached, and above this, at a vertical dis-
tance of ten to fifteen feet, the best of the ant-hills were found, which
contained among other remains the bones, scales and teeth of fresh-
water fishes allied to the gar-pikes living to-day in southern rivers.
These were carefully preserved for comparison with the mammal-bearing
sands at Yale collected by the older expeditions, and which were found
later to include, in addition to the mammals, fossils exactly similar to
those which we secured at this time. That we had found an old locality
was further proved by indications of a former camp, fire wood, rusted
tin cans, and in an adjacent ant-hill tiny, worn fragments of an unfor-
tunate investigator's spectacles !

The mammalian relics which were thus found were of very small
size, consisting of individual teeth or a fragment of a jaw with one or
more teeth still in position, or other portions of the bones. Mammal
teeth are fortunately highly indicative of habit and relationships; but
on the other hand, in collections of this sort, not one bone can be asso-
ciated with another. Thus, while some idea of the general size and
method of feeding may be obtained, no attempt to restore the skeleton
or even the entire skull is possible. In size none of the ant-hill mam-
mals was larger than a rat, and many were much smaller. Those whose
teeth bore few sharp-pointed cusps were carnivorous, feeding on such
feeble folk — insects, worms, and possibly other mammals — as they could
overcome. Others with chisel-shaped incisors and many-cusped grind-
ing teeth were plant-feeders, probably living not only on tender leaves,
but on berries and the seeds of berries and other fruits.

The little glimpse of a former geologic age which this trip gave us
was full of suggestive detail. I have already described the scene as the
scientific imagination conjures it up, the broad, savanna-like, low-lying
lands over which wandered the huge reptiles then at the very culmina-
tion of their evolution. But what of the mammals ? Where were they
and how did they survive the competition with the dinosaurs ? Possibly
their very insignificance was their chief safeguard, just as countless
small rodents and insect-eating creatures live to-day in the lion- and
buffalo-haunted African jungles. Possibly they were tree-inhabitants,
and the location of the mammal-bearing ant-hills near the lignite cer-
tainly suggests an abundance of near-by vegetation. However we may
interpret it, the evidence is clear that these mammals and the dinosaurs
were contemporaries in the same general locality though the exact en-
vironmental conditions under which they lived may have differed.

Passing back in time some millions of years further, one finds in

ANT-HILL FOSSILS 243

rocks which mark the beginning of Cretaceous time as they are exposed
in another Wyoming region one hundred miles or so to the southwest,
this same association of mammals and dinosaurs, but many of the latter
are very unlike their successors and include mighty forms which soon
became entirely extinct. But the mammals are practically the same,
with little evidence of change, while the reptiles are undergoing their
most remarkable evolution.

Again we find the mammals at the close of the preceding Triassic
period, this time far to the eastward in South Carolina and then in
Germany and South Africa, not in direct association with dinosaurs,
but nevertheless in contemporary strata with some of the most primitive
of the race. Thus these forebears of modern beasts and men live long
ages without measurable progress, while reptilian dynasties wax and
wane. But the mammals, with the tenacity of their race, are merely
awaiting their opportunity, although so effective is the check laid upon
them by their cold-blooded contemporaries that for them evolution
practically ceases while the march of time goes on. At last comes the
day of reckoning when, due to some cause or causes of which
we have not yet learned the nature, although they were doubtless
conditioned upon the mountain-making revolution which closed the
Age of Eeptiles, the dinosaurs, after their multi-millennial career, are
blotted out and the Age of Mammals is begun. Now from their fast-
nesses stream the furry hosts, impelled by age-long earth hunger,
to fill every station in the economy of nature which the reptiles had
possessed, and now the evolutionary mill, turning faster and faster,
grinds out the beasts both small and great which become in their turn
the rulers of the earth until their place is usurped by humanity.

244 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

FOUE POINTS IN" THE INDICTMENT OF THE SMOKE

NUISANCE

By JOHN O'CONNOR, JR.

MELLON INSTITUTE] OF INDUSTRIAL EESEAECH, UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH

IN all papers and talks concerning the smoke nuisance, it has become
customary to refer to the economic cost of the nuisance both to the
public and to the smoke makers. This is the indictment which is sup-
posed to strike home. When a speaker on this subject says

The abolition of the smoke nuisance, unlike many other social nuisances
against which outcry has been, would result in direct and immediate gain both
to the public at large and to those who are chiefly responsible for the nuisance
itself,

he feels that he has said the last word.

There are other points in the indictment of the smoke nuisance to
which attention may more properly be directed. It is the purpose of
this paper to tell of the present knowledge on four of these points,
namely :

1. The effect on building materials.

2. The effect on meteorological conditions.

3. The effect on vegetation.

4. The effect on health.

There has been much talk within the last few years concerning city
planning. The principal idea that city planning seems to convey to
most people is a beautiful and costly square, set in the center of an
ugly city. All real city planning should have as one of its main objects
the purification of the atmosphere. Some forty years ago, John Eus-
kin, speaking to the Society of British Architects, said :

All lovely architecture was designed for cities in cloudless air. . . . But our
cities, built in black air, which, by its accumulated foulness, first renders all
the ornament invisible in distance, and then chokes its interstices with soot;
. . . for cities such as these, no architecture is possible.

An architect in a smoky city is forced to take atmospheric condi-
tions into account. Drain pipes must be arranged with great care — that
there may result no splashing of the soot-carrying water to discolor the
sides of the building. Mouldings must be so designed that the rain
will not wash over the face that soot which collects on top of the mould-
ings. Drips must be provided on all projections. Under-cutting, deli-
cacy of incised line and sharpness of angular forms must be foregone,
for the soot deposited will, in time, fill up the crevices and mar the

THE SMOKE NUISANCE 245

beauty of the outline, causing considerable alteration of the original
forms and making the building degenerate into a mere mass of dirty,
shabby masonry.

It is rather interesting to note the vogue of such materials in build-
ings as glazed brick and terra cotta, in smoky cities. Stone, for which
they are substitutes in many cases, is injured by smoke and the asso-
ciated products of combustion in two ways:

1. The soiling of the surface, so that in the course of a few months
all stone takes on the same gray, grimy color. This means either the
loss of all artistic effect that may have been obtained by color contrast,
etc., or the frequent cleaning of the building, which is an additional
expense and at the same time aids in the destruction of the stone.

2. The actual destructive action on all stones by the acid products
of the combustion of the coal. This is especially marked on any stone
containing calcium or magnesium carbonates in larger or smaller quan-
tities. Although there is some action on other constituents of the build-
ing stones, it is so slow in most cases as to be hardly noticeable.

A study was made in connection with the smoke investigation of
the Mellon Institute as to the effect of smoke on outside painting.1
Both the effect on paint as a protective coating and as a decorative cov-
ering was considered. It was found that some paints last comparatively
longer in Pittsburgh than in many other cities. This is in part due to
the protective action of the soot in preventing the destructive action of
the active rays of the sun. This would also indicate that such paints
might afford a lodging place for fungi, which grow in the absence of di-
rect sunlight.

It was found that smoke darkens paint coatings very rapidly and
renders the use of light colors unsatisfactory on account of the short time
they retain their true color. Analyses of the surface of the paints
showed that the darkening was due to sulphur dioxide gas and to the
accumulation of soot, carbon and similar organic matter contained in
smoke.

The effect of smoke on metals must be taken into consideration in
connection with the other building materials. When soot containing
tar comes in contact with a metallic surface, it is made to adhere more
or less firmly by means of its tar content. The occluded acids, prin-
cipally sulphuric and sulphurous, are thus brought in intimate contact
with the metal, giving a much better chance for corrosive action to take
place and for it to become complete quicker than if the same amount of
acid dissolved in rain water came in contact with the metal. The acid
in the rain water drains off readily, while the soot protects the occluded
acid to a great extent, so that it remains in contact with the metal until
it has all been used up.

1 Benner, Eaymond C, Bulletin No. 6, "Papers on the Effect of Smoke on
Building Materials," 1913. (Published by Mellon Institute.)

246 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Inquiry in Pittsburgh among metal workers developed the fact that
metal work in a smoky city lasts only half as long as in one free from
smoke.

It is hardly necessary to point out that smoke damages the interior
decorations of a building or home, limits interior decorators in the use
of colore and materials and in every way tends to render artistic effects
gloomy and depressing.

Cities very properly hold favorable climatic conditions as a very
desirable asset, as is evidenced by the records of rainfall, temperature,
fog and hours of sunshine which appear in the year books of the cham-
bers of commerce and boards of trade of the different cities. Cities
which have smoky atmospheres are under a severe handicap in this
regard.

In the first place, while smoke is not a cause of fog, it intensifies a
fog when it is once formed and accordingly causes it to persist longer.2
In consequence of this there are fewer hours of sunshine in smoky cities
than in cities which are practically free from smoke. Again, the sun-
shine is less intense in smoky cities, the light of short wave lengths, or
the blue light, suffering the greater depletion. Not only is this true,
but daylight, which depends entirely upon diffused light from the sky,
is depleted by the smoke in greater proportion than the direct sunlight.

Experiments carried on by the Smoke Investigation of the Mellon
Institute in Pittsburgh and Sewickley, a small residential town on the
Ohio Eiver, about twelve miles northwest of Pittsburgh, during 1913,
revealed that Pittsburgh had 25 per cent, less sunlight and 40 per cent,
less daylight than Sewickley. It was also found that the limit of visi-
bility in the business section of Pittsburgh was about one tenth the limit
in the open country. It is well known that the frequency of intense
fogs in London has decreased and the hours of sunshine increased since
1890, due to a mitigation of the smoke nuisance. The same was true
of Pittsburgh between 1885 and 1895, when the use of natural gas for
manufacturing and domestic purposes was quite general.

A number of studies have been made of the effect of soot on vegeta-
tion. Cohen and Euston, as a result of their researches in Leeds, Eng-
land, declared that soot may exert a detrimental effect on the growth
of plants in three ways, namely, by blocking up the stomata and thus
impeding the process of transpiration ; by coating the leaf and so reduc-
ing the intensity of sunlight, and at the same time affecting the assimi-
lation of carbon dioxide; and lastly, by the corrosive effect of the acid
it contains.3 Experiments they carried on went to show that the power
of assimilation of laurel leaves had a definite relation to atmospheric

2 Kimball, Herbert H., Bulletin No. 5, "The Meteorological Aspects of
the Smoke Problem," 1913. (Published by Mellon Institute.)

s Cohen, Julius Berend, and Euston, Arthur G., ' ' Smoke : a Study of Town
Air," 1912.

THE SMOKE NUISANCE 247

impurities, that crops of radishes and lettuce grown in different sections
of Leeds show the possibility of correlating the known atmospheric
impurities with the yield of the crop. They also found that as trees
automatically keep a record of yearly growth, the presence of any inhib-
iting factor will make itself known by the narrowing of the annual
rings.

In 1913, a study of the effct of city smoke on vegetation was made
in Des Moines by A. L. Bakke, of the Iowa State College.4 Mr. Bakke
reached the following conclusions:

1. That gases and smokes have a deleterious action upon vegetation.

2. That the vegetation about a manufacturing concern may be
mapped off, in the form of concentric belt demarcation, each belt being
represented by a certain form or forms of plant life, since certain plants
are more susceptible to smoke injury than others.

3. That an industrial city like Des Moines, in its plant elimination
process, is governed by the same set of conditions as are in operation for
a single manufacturing plant.

Mr. J. F. Clevenger, as a result of his studies in connection with
the Smoke Investigation of the Mellon Institute, declared that the fact
that smoke injures vegetation is evidenced not only by the general ex-
ternal appearance of many of the constituent plants, but also by their
internal appearance, as shown by the size of annual rings and by lesions
in the leaves.5 Mr. Clevenger's studies were confirmed by controlled
field experiments which he made. In these experiments growing plants
enclosed in cases were subjected to small quantities of soot distributed
uniformly over them. The leaves of the plants so treated displayed a
tendency to drooping and many of the leaves began to die at the tips;
a checking of growth of the plants was also apparent.

The effect of smoke on health has been a much-mooted question.
For a long time it was held, and still is by some, that a smoky atmos-
phere is not injurious and at times even beneficial to public health.
This supposition gained favor from an observation, largely erroneous,
that coal miners are not prone to contract tuberculosis.

One of the most comprehensive studies of the -direct effect of smoke
upon the respiratory organs was made by Dr. Louis Ascher, of Konigs-
berg. Dr. Ascher's statistical and experimental studies led him to the
conclusion that the mortality of acute lung diseases is certainly in-
creasing, especially among children and old people. The cause of this
increase, he declared, is the impurification of the air by smoke, as the
increase is greatest in industrial centers and not in agricultural districts.
He further pointed out that within industrial districts a difference in

4 Bakke, A. L., "The Effect of City Smoke on Vegetation," Bulletin 145,
Iowa State College of Agriculture.

5 Clevenger, J. F., Bulletin No. 7, "The Effect of the Soot in Smoke on
Vegetation," 1913. (Published by Mellon Institute.)

248 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

mortality can also be noted, the death rate from acute lung diseases, in
districts with much smoke, being higher than in other industrial centers
with little smoke as textile districts.

The physicians who worked in cooperation with the Smoke Investi-
gation of the Mellon Institute made valuable contributions to the ques-
tion of the relation of smoke to health.6

Dr. W. L. Holman, investigating the bacteriology of soot, arrived
at the following conclusions :

1. Soot has a definite bactericidal action on bacteria, due either to
the absorption of moisture from the organisms or more probably to the
action of its contained germicidal acids and phenols.

2. Soot, as it occurs in smoke, clouds, fogs and as a non-transparent
covering for our streets and houses, protects microorganisms from the
destructive action of sunlight.

Dr. Oskar Klotz, attacking the subject from the viewpoint of a
pathologist, asserts that pulmonary anthracosis — a term applied to a
condition in which carbon particles of extraneous origin are deposited
in the lungs — is an urban disease and is proportionate to the smoke
content of the air. His examination of the lungs of adult individuals
resident in Pittsburgh shows that they have materially more carbon
deposit than the lungs of individuals resident in a lesser manufacturing
community.

Dr. Samuel E. Haythorn, attempting to determine whether or not
excessive deposits of dust and coal pigment within the body tissues have
or have not any " real disease " significance, arrived at the conclusions :

1. Moderate anthracosis in an otherwise normal lung is not in itself
detrimental to health.

2. In tuberculosis, the anthracotic condition is either entirely passive
or is active in assisting healing, in that it aids in the localization of the
process through the obliteration of the lymph spaces.

3. In the case of pneumonia, the effect of carbon deposits in the
lungs is quite different. The carbon blocks up the lymphatic spaces and
causes obliteration of the lymph channels. This results in serious in-
terference with the drainage system of the lungs and thus delays, if
it does not make impossible, the resolution of the pneumonic process.
An anthracotic lung has, therefore, less chance of recovery from pneu-
monia than a lung which has not undergone changes from the deposit
of carbon.

Dr. William Charles White, from a study of the relation of the
mortality from tuberculosis and pneumonia to the smoke content of the
air, shows that, in Pittsburgh, pneumonia increases with the density of
smoke irrespective of the density of the population or of poverty. Tu-

e Klotz, Oskar, and White, Wm. Chas., Bulletin No. 9, ' ' Papers on the In-
fluence of Smoke on Health," 1914. (Published by Mellon Institute.)

THE SMOKE NUISANCE 249

berculosis, on the other hand, he shows to he independent of the smoke
density, following, as it does everywhere, the line of overcrowding and
poverty.

In summarizing the results of all medical investigators whose opin-
ions are based on other groups than theory, it can be asserted that
smoke has a tremendous influence in increasing the incident severity
and mortality of acute disease of the air passages. It would appear that
this increased susceptability is, in part, the result of the lowering of our
natural body resistance. In simple terms, the smokier the atmosphere,
the more the colds and bronchitis, and the more money paid to doctors.

It would seem from a consideration of the four points that have
been discussed that it is high time for the people to arouse themselves
from the apathy that they have shown toward the smoke nuisance. The
purification of the atmosphere should receive the same attention as pure
food and pure water are receiving, for it is just as important. People
should be educated as to the evils of the nuisance so that an active and
intelligent public opinion could be brought to bear on those who are
responsible for it. The demand should go out that the nuisance be
abated as a menace to health, property and the things which make for
civic betterment.

25o TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

A CIVIC INVESTMENT

By President P. R. KOLBE

MUNICIPAL UNIVERSITY OF AKRON

IN these modern days of municipal extravagance, of crowded city
budgets, and of frantic legislative attempts to control undue rates
of taxation in our centers of population, any new source of expendi-
ture is almost pre-fated to encounter the shrug of suspicion — the stony
stare of hostility. Even the propagandists of municipal ownership de-
mand their pound of flesh — the new venture must pay for itself in
hard cash.

What claim then has higher education upon the purse strings of
the city taxpayer ? " Support a college with city money ? " grunts the
rich manufacturer, "Not by a long shot; what this town needs is more
paved streets, not Greek and Latin students." Did it ever occur to you
that to the average business man all college graduates are " Greek and
Latin students"? Many expressions have become so formalized that
they are inevitable — they slip from the lips as naturally as "the sunny
south" or "the great metropolis" or any other of the thousand and
one substitutes which our jaded minds employ in the place of real
ideas. So it is with education. All students learn " Greek and
Latin," all education is "impractical." Ten to one the man who uses
these terms has not been inside an institution of higher learning for
years — probably never. If salvation itself were at stake he could not
name half a dozen subjects taught in the modern college — "Latin and
Greek" he would tell you "Ah, er — yes, Latin and Greek and — well —
I really can't say, but anyhow it's all quite impractical ! " He doubt-
less has inherited this idea as he did his politics and religion, but in
both of the latter, he has kept more or less abreast of the times. In
the case of higher education, though, he has never given the matter
sufficient independent thought nor investigation to modify his grand-
father's viewpoint, and even the most partisan supporters of education
must confess that that old gentleman would perhaps have been right,
had he called the education of his day " impractical." In the course of
the next few years, I believe, the leaven of the "new education," the
actual preparation for life, will have worked itself in to the very center
of the lump — will have educated not only its students directly, but
working through them, will have inspired a wholesome respect in all
the people for the practical efficiency which many of our best colleges
are imparting to their charges — all of which brings me back to my real
subject, the municipal university.

The municipal university represents one of the newest, the most

A CIVIC INVESTMENT 251

modern types of education for the purpose of practical efficiency. With
the examples of the great state universities ever in mind, it has realized
that the highest mission in its field lies in service to its community.
Since the services which education may render to a city are somewhat dif-
ferent from those which it may render to a state, the municipal univer-
sity has had a new problem to solve or rather should I say — lias a new
problem to solve, since both the conception of the problem and the at-
tempts at its solution are still in their infancy.

Our country to-day possesses only half a dozen municipally sup-
ported institutions of higher education. As a matter of fact, in the
old sense of the word, we have only one municipal university — the Uni-
versity of Cincinnati. Other municipal institutions of collegiate rank
(my own among them) have assumed the title "municipal university,"'
in the face of educational disapproval of the term, largely for the rea-
son that our language offers no name to characterize a school which
has outgrown the limits of the old fashioned college, which has actually
established other schools than that of liberal arts, but which does not
possess all the professional faculties. For such institutions, in view
of their close cooperation with various city departments and in further
view of the fact that a development along practical and technical lines
has multiplied the number of their schools to a greater or less extent,
the name " municipal university " seems not ill chosen.

The keynote of a municipal university must ever be public service —
not that somewhat indefinite public service which gives young people a
"broad, general education" (too often a euphemism for a mere smat-
tering of many subjects) — but rather that public service which will
awaken in our young people a consciousness of their relation and re-
sponsibility to the community and which will actually train them for
life and for civic duties.

The recent meeting held in New York at the call of Mayor Mitchel
under the auspices of the American Political Science Association's
Committee on Practical Training for Public Service discussed as its
main topic the service of the university to the community. The same
topic engaged the attention of the Urban University Association at
"Washington last November. This meeting marked an epoch. For years
it has been growing more and more apparent that every collegiate insti-
tution which exists tax free in the midst of a large community does owe
an actual debt to its city. This feeling has doubtless been strengthened
by the attitude of a few municipal universities, notably Cincinnati, who
have been trying to make some practical return for the money which tax-
payers have given them. Just how this can be done is one of our most
important modern problems. With the feeling that New York offers an
unparalleled field for such activities the New York conference adopted a
resolution calling upon the College of the City of New York to institute

252 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

a series of experiments along this line, whose results should serve to
guide other institutions toward the same goal of public service.

Meanwhile, the middle west has been working out its own salvation
as regards the public duties of city bred educational institutions. Ohio
with its three municipal universities at Cincinnati, Toledo and Akron,
leads its neighboring states in this respect.

When Akron, a city of 100,000 inhabitants, established such an in-
stitution upon the foundation of the old Buchtel College, many, good
citizens shook their heads in doubt as to whether a city of this size
could afford the " luxury " of higher education. Fortunately, however,
the young people of the city saw in this opportunity not a luxury but a
chance for practical preparation for life. In the two short years of
its existence, the university is already beginning to be one of the strong-
est factors in the community for civic betterment.

Why can a municipal university offer more practical education than
other colleges or universities? As a matter of fact, any private insti-
tution can do as much. The municipal institution has simply by force
of its position, heard the call more clearly and for this reason leads the
way. Its activities are divided into two general lines:

1. The training of students.

2. Cooperation with city departments and activities.

Either one of these two is impossible without the other. Students
can not be trained for practical life without contact with actual con-
ditions. Such contact can only be secured when every department of
the university is in close cooperation and contact with that part of civic
life to which it is most closely related. On the other hand, such contact
can only be secured by putting students directly into the activities men-
tioned and thus forming the connecting link between city and university.

The beginning of this contact was made at Cincinnati about eight
years ago, when Dean Schneider established his courses in engineering
on the cooperative plan. It is scarcely necessary here to mention the
merits of this much discussed system. In brief, it means that engineer-
ing students work for alternate two-week periods in class room and in
factories, under actual shop conditions. Thus a graduate from this
course is not a mere theorist, but knows manufacturing and engineer-
ing from the standpoint of personal experience.

To students of economics and sociology an especially broad field is
open for experience with the conditions of actual life. In my own city,
a thorough housing survey has been carried on by university students
under the joint direction of the department of sociology, the charity
organization and the board of health. Nor has this work been mere
play with no practical use. As a result of reports brought in by stu-
dent inspectors, the sanitation of houses and even of whole districts has
been improved through vigorous action of the building inspector. The
city has been benefitted by enlisting in its service a body of capable in-

A CIVIC INVESTMENT 253

spectors at no cost, while the students have received credit at the uni-
versity for "laboratory" work.

When the city of Akron established its municipal university, it was
found that the university laboratory offered better facilities than that
of the city chemist. In order to avoid expensive duplication, the uni-
versity thereupon undertook to carry on in its laboratories the entire
testing work of the city and established as one of its departments a bu-
reau of city tests. Again the practical value of cooperation became
apparent. Advanced university students in chemistry, instead of work-
ing at mere theoretical problems, were given actual city chemical test-
ing work. The difference became at once apparent. A student who
plodded through a " book problem " as drudgery, became an active, in-
terested worker in the solution of a real food problem affecting the
health of his community. The value of chemistry as an actual factor
in life became apparent. At the same time, certain students were re-
ceiving experience which would later enable them to enter, well equipped,
into a life calling.

When the city council, feeling the need for information, asked the
engineering department of the university to undertake a survey of
paving conditions in the city, cooperative students were called in to
help in the work of inspection. When the need arose for a supervisor
of city playgrounds, the physical director at the university was called
upon to assume the position. Several of his sub-directors are city uni-
versity students. Thus the city is beginning to regard the university
as a laboratory to which it may, at any time, turn for technical advice
and help. Through experience with problems thus offered, students are
given the opportunity for training in the service of their community.
They are taught to study and know city activities and interests — they
become better citizens.

The state university offers free tuition to all who can take advantage
of the opportunity. The city university also offers free tuition to its
communitj'', a practical training for life, and the advantage of a higher
education at home. This latter fact opens up possibilities to hundreds
of students who could never attend even a state university. A coopera-
tive engineering student, who earns apprentice wages during his alter-
nate two week shop periods and who has the privilege of living at home
can secure an education and support himself at the same time.

From all parts of the country come inquiries from cities regarding
the operation of a tax supported municipal university. Cleveland has
considered a plan by which her students may receive free higher edu-
cation at a municipal university formed by a coalition of her great
privately endowed colleges. The day of the municipal university will
come as inevitably as has that of the state university. Municipalities
are already beginning to realize the possibilities of practical higher edu-
cation as a civic investment.

254 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

SCIENCE AND DEMOCKACY1

Bx M. B. HAGGERTY

INDIANA UNIVERSITY

jT) EVOLUTIONS are a part of our modern world. Men have come
-L^ to look upon them as natural moments in national life. So
much experience have the western nations had with social upheavals and
the reversal of political practises that they have learned how to revolute
without war or violence.

To many thoughtful men, we are now in the midst of such a peace-
ful revolution. In America, England, Germany, old ideals are being
forsaken and settled institutions are submitted to a criticism that un-
settles their foundations. Everywhere, in religion, politics, industry,
education, there is the antithesis between conservative and radical, the
latter bringing about the ears of the former a perfect storm of clamor
and bewilderment. In America we incline to view the current tumult
as the fallow ground out of which is to spring a new and better form of
social organization. The evident unrest is but the sjmiptom of funda-
mental changes going on. It indicates the recasting of our ideals into
a new and larger program of democracy.

Clearly to apprehend the portent of our current confusion, one needs
to look below the symptoms for the cause. The fires of significant revo-
lution are never kindled on the surface. They smolder in secret places
and in obscurity gather the strength which overturns existing institu-
tions. The overt crisis comes finally as the breaking forth of a long
suppressed flame. So was it in France in 1789 ; so was it in America in
1860; so was it in China in 1912. So is it in all our western world in
this year of grace. Causally contributing to our present ferment there

i This paper was read to the Indiana University Chapter of Sigma XI, De-
cember 11, 1913, and subsequently to the Liberal Lecture League at Indianapo-
lis. On superficial reading it may seem that some of its claims have been refuted
by the present European war. To the writer it seems that the development of
mankind is a deep movement in which the present war, terrible and reactionary
as it is, is an episode. Its most harmful effect upon the march of civic emanci-
pation will be the economic one, the destruction of the means of life. When the
"glorious victory" shall have been won there will be less to eat than before.
The ' ' strong man ' ' will get his disproportionate share, and the common men who
are left in Europe will be hungry. They will be less aggressive than before, and
the tide of economic liberation which was steadily rising in 1913 will be stayed.
But a new generation will be born to try again the fight for freedom. Some day
that fight will be really won and Europe will forget William III. and Nicholas
II. as France has forgotten Napoleon and as we have forgotten George III. To
the achievement of such oblivion science lends its indirect but powerful aid.

SCIENCE AND DEMOCRACY 255

are doubtless numerous causes, but there is probably none more potent
than the phenomenal growth of science in the past hundred years. If
we are about to have a new democracy it is because science with a thou-
sand charges has shattered old ideas and institutions into fragments
and given in their stead the materials for new constructions.

Primary in this relation of science to democracy is the change which
has been wrought in the economic status of the men who work with
their hands. As not before in the history of mankind, laborers may
have food, they may have schools, they may travel and wear good clothes ;
they may have household conveniences, baths and lighted rooms, un-
known to kings and nobles of a century ago. In fifty years our civiliza-
tion has changed from one of deficit to one of surplus and the specter
of a near world famine has disappeared.

For a hundred years following 1798, men were taught that their
welfare depended upon the limitation of the population. Malthus had
pointed out that the produce of the world could be made to increase
in but an arithmetical ratio, while the unrestrained human race was
enlarging in a geometrical ratio. The economic deficit which the world
faced at the beginning of the nineteenth century could on this theory
only become greater and greater until the whole race of men would be
struggling for the insufficient fruits of a niggard earth. But in the
very hour when Malthus and John Stuart Mill were most orthodox the
theory was being already discredited by a change in the world's produc-
tion. From an earth which gave too little for the sustenance of her
children we have come to a condition where men live in the midst of
abundance. We are not so much troubled now by the scarcity of food
as by its inadequate distribution. " For the first time in the history of
civilization" writes Prince Kropotkin, "mankind has reached a point
where the means of satisfying its needs are in excess of the needs them-
selves."

For untold generations, slaves and peasants and farmers had gotten
with pain the barest subsistence from the soil, but, suddenly, as if by
magic, two blades of grass began to grow where one had grown before
and an acre which had yielded thirty bushels of corn began to give fifty
and sixty and a hundred. The area for the cultivation of foods was
widely extended by the development of the American continent and
exploration and colonization in South America and Africa. New
articles of food came into existence. Beets, hitherto but a food for
cattle, began to give sugar, and tropical fruits, especially the banana,
found their way to every market in the world. The tomato, long sus-
pected of being poisonous and, down to the middle of the nineteenth
century, distrusted as a possible forerunner of cancer, has become a food
staple. The potato, unknown before the sixteenth century and at the
beginning of the eighteenth regarded as a fit food only for swine and

256 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

cattle, has assumed the place of chief economic importance among
garden products. Twenty-five years ago the European crop of potatoes
exceeded in value the entire wheat crop of the world. In the United
States in 1912 the increase of potato production over the average of the
preceding ten years was 100,000,000 bushels, an additional bushel for
every person living within our borders.

A bit of statistics may emphasize the fact of our increasing surplus.
The increase of rural population in the United States between 1900
and 1910 was 9 per cent. In the same period the production of wheat
increased 31 per cent. ; of corn 47 per cent. ; of rice 82 per cent. ; and the
value of all farm property over 200 per cent. Paralleling the rapid
advance in agricultural production has been the increase of mineral
products. In the decade the production of copper increased 40 per
cent; of zinc 7 per cent.; of iron 69 per cent.; of petroleum 131 per
cent.; and of coal 140 per cent. At the same time, the products of
manufacture increased far faster than the population. While the latter
went forward 21 per cent., the former advanced 84 per cent. How
directly this bears on living conditions appears in the fact that the man-
ufacture of food products and textile articles constitute more than a
third of the total and show an increase in ten years of 83 per cent. To
see how manufacture tends toward the food surplus, one needs but to
look at the grocer's shelves. There safely packed away in cans, bottles,
cartons, are the seasonal surpluses of widely distant zones. Vegetables,
fruits, fish, meats hide behind attractive covers and await the capricious
appetites of purchasers. Here one sees also how transportation by
rail and boat has eliminated zonal boundaries. Australia, South Amer-
ica, Europe, Asia, and the farthest corners of our own continent are
here brought together. The typical American epicure knows no season
and no territorial zone. On Christmas day he eats fruits his progen-
itor of a half century earlier could have had only in June, and in New
York he pleases himself with foods available to his ancestors only after
ten thousand miles of travel.

To think of a near world famine in the face of these modern wonders
of production and distribution is to be disturbed by a dream. The
world can now produce more than it can properly consume and the
production is increasing at a faster rate than is the population. If
there is still hunger in America, it is not due to the scantiness of food.
It is due to the inequality of distribution, an inequality, however, that
is not static or necessary. We can rest assured that as soon as society
has partially recovered its feet after its headlong plunge into wealth,
it will set itself to rights and care for every man as he needs. At the
present time there are searching efforts being made to ascertain the
adequate standard of living for men of various occupations. That that
standard will be met out of society's rapidly accumulating surplus is as

SCIENCE AND DEMOCRACY 257

sure a conclusion as that the anti-toxin for infantile paralysis will be
used when once it is discovered.

One of the surest indications of what this means for the laboring
man is the steady increase of estimate of the salary necessary for effi-
cient living. John Mitchell fixed it at $600 for cities of less than one
hundred thousand population; Streightoff said $650; the New York
State Conference of Charities and Corrections say $825 for a family
of five, and the Brueres say $1,200 per annum is the minimum upon
which a family of five can maintain an adequate degree of industrial
efficiency. The fact that we have come to the place where such stand-
ards can be set is an augury of the future of our working people. In-
voluntary poverty is as sure of elimination as anything in human affairs
can be. Time, struggle, courage, patience, individual sacrifice, intel-
ligent handling of the growing surplus, will bring us the new day of
economic freedom. With that will be established the real basis of a
democratic society, a society in which there will be the possibility of
individual distinction coincident with the improvement of the whole
state, the two guaranteed by a government in which the sovereign is
the whole population.

The period which has seen this reversal of economic conditions is
likewise the century of greatest scientific advance. By 1800 Newton
had established the law of gravitation; Harvey had discovered the cir-
culation of the blood Linnaeus had developed a biological classification
and nomenclature, Buffon had written fifteen volumes of natural his-
tory, feeling his way toward a theory of organic evolution, Cavendish had
discovered hydrogen, and Priestley, oxygen, while Lavoisier had con-
structed a chemical nomenclature and discovered the composition of
water; surgery had been practised by Hunter and Haller, and physiol-
ogy and anatomy were subjects of study ; Locke, Berkeley, Condillac had
originated the doctrine of sensationalism in psychology, and Kant had
completed Hume's theory of ideas by denying the possibility of know-
ing anything beyond the phenomenal world.

Released from the domination of false theology and bad metaphys-
ics, the youthful sciences took mighty steps in the early years of the
nineteenth century. Cuvier and Lamarck in biology, Young, La Place,
Volta, and Carnot in physics, Dalton in chemistry, were followed a little
later by Davy, Faraday, Arago, Ampere, Owen, and a vast army of lesser
men. By the middle of the century the pendulum had swung heavily
in the direction of biological ideas. Lyell announced the theory of the
slow development of the structure of the earth's crust. Johannes Muel-
ler had established the physico-chemical school of physiology, Agassiz
had collected many of the facts pointing to the theory of evolution, and
in 1859 Darwin published the " Origin of Species." Pasteur discovered
the organism known as yeast and the relation of germs to putrefaction.

VOL. LXXXVII. 18.

258 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

In 1869 Lister announced his method of antiseptic surgery. Helmholtz
had published his " Physiological Optics " in 1866, and in 1879 Wundt,
his greatest pupil, had established the psychological laboratory in Leip-
zig, coincident with the beginnings of experimental psychology by
James at Harvard. In the very closing years of the last century and
the first decade of the present, physics, which in popular favor had suf-
fered a temporary eclipse by biology and psychology, was revivified by
the discoveries of Eontgen and Madame Curie, and now disports itself
with a youthful exuberance suggestive of the renaissance, while chem-
istry and all the sciences allied to medicine engage men and money in a
fabulous way. In the field of human affairs, we are attempting to apply
the methods of science not only to health, but to education, to industry,
and commerce, to marriage, religion and government.

To believe that the great economic change of the last one hundred
years and the triumphant march of science have been merely coincident,
but not causally connected, would be a great mistake. Without tracing
in detail this causal sequence, one can get a vivid idea of the relation of
the two phenomena by trying to imagine the result of eliminating science
and its achievements from our modern life. Out go the electric light,
the gas, the gasoline and the kerosene. Our world which now knows no
night is plunged half its time into a darkness relieved only by the flicker
of tallow candles and burning wood. The telegraph, telephone, and
railroad which have shrivelled this earth into a mere fragment of its
former size crumble into ashes, and San Francisco moves away from
New York ten times farther than it now is. Ocean steamers become
sail boats, distancing London from New York fifty, sixty, seventy days
instead of six as at present. Instead of eating foods gathered from
the ends of the earth, the average citizen is limited to the products of his
own locality and to primitive methods of food preparation. Eapid com-
munication between distant places becomes impossible1; books and
newspapers, few and expensive; common interests and understanding
grow more difficult; illiteracy increases, suspicion arises, popular gov-
ernment over wide areas becomes impracticable, and our twentieth-cen-
tury civilization a fool's dream.

The consequent shrinkage in the wealth of the world, would be enor-
mous, our civilization of a surplus would become one of deficit, every
class would suffer retrenchment, but most of all the workers, who, by
reason of birth, tradition or other limitations, would feel most keenly
the scantiness of the world's supply of material goods.

In this perspective we see how science has worked for the liberation
of all classes of society. In the long process of civic emancipation it
has finally opened the way for the rise of the man who works with his
hands. Nor will the former masters of society be willing to cut short
the beneficent results of science, for it adds to the pleasure and efficiency

SCIENCE AND DEMOCRACY 259

of the rich and high-born as well as of the poor. But it is to the com-
mon man that it means most, for it lifts him for the first time in history
above the level of economic slavery. Regardless of all the theories of
political science and philosophy, this economic liberation of the fourth
estate is working toward the ultimate democratization of society with a
force as irresistible as gravitation. It matters little what Bourbon
statesmen or scholastics may think about ultimate democracy ; it matters
tremendously that science has made it possible.

The economic results of science are not its only bearings upon demo-
cratic tendencies. Equally important are the changes it has wrought
upon the attitude which men take toward the world of things. The
time was when it was regarded as the surest way to wisdom to retire from
contact with the concrete world of change. Plato held that the supreme
duty of man is to escape from the sensible world to the world of ideas.
The supreme destiny of the philosopher and his fullest satisfactions
are to be found in the life of contemplation, culminating in the vision
of the good. The world evident to the senses, the world of observation
was thus to be disregarded and neglected. It was instable, changing
and altogether below the life of reason. Small need, therefore, to exam-
ine it, for through it one would never find the truth, the beauty, or the
goodness so necessary for the happy soul.

How large a share this doctrine of Plato's may have had in thwart-
ing the development of science in ancient Greece, it is difficult to see.
Mr. Schiller thinks it was very great. There were glimmerings of sci-
ence and the experimental study of nature in Plato's time. Man was
recognized as a part of nature; dissections had been practised by the
Pythagoreans; the experimental spirit had expressed itself in the atti-
tude of physicians toward their patients; anatomical research had been
extended to animals ; the relation of the parts of the body to their func-
tions were discovered; Democritus had glimpsed the essence of atomic
physics and had practiced experimental demonstration in his teaching;
the relativity of nature to human sensibilities was set forth by Protago-
rus and other Sophists, and attempts had been made by a score of
thinkers to analyze the physical world. But it all came to naught.
Through the long night between Democritus and Galileo these flicker-
ings of science slumbered.

To the abortion of these scientific interests several causes probably
contributed. But if all the others had been removed, the chief phi-
losophy of the time would probably have prevented any wide application
of students to the things of nature, for Plato was the one overpowering
genius of his time. The dominance of the Greek philosophy down to
modern times is coincident with the sleep of science.

To-day all this is changed; we seek the truth through analysis and
mastery of the world of sensible observation. The air, the soil, the

26o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

lightning, the slime, the refuse of the world, is yielding up the truth
by which we live. Your earlier philosopher would escape from the
sensuous world ; the modern savant eagerly penetrates its depths, making
his implements of research as he goes. Compare Thomas Aquinas in
an age which rotted with physical uncleanness withdrawing from the
world, exalting divine reason above natural reason and refusing the
evidence of his natural reason in order to conserve a difficult faith, with
Metchnikoff studying the embryology of sponges, the structure and
digestion of polyps, and the blood of water fleas to discover the phago-
cytes, which mean so much for the preservation of human health and
the extension of earthly life. To our scientific minds the slimiest, vilest
bit of earth may have the truth we need and will hold it forever locked
from him who merely sits and thinks. Because this is so, the whole
world of matter has assumed a higher value in our thinking than in any
age before. To this exaltation of material things all the advances in
evolutionary biology and the studies in physiology and experimental
psychology contribute. We see now as not before how much is man of
a piece with nature, in his ancestry, in his composition and in his future.
And we see that the world of matter in which he lives has much in com-
mon with himself. Not to escape this world, but to understand it; not
to despise it, but to control it, is our modern aim.

In this altered view of the world and mau's relation to it, the man
who works with his hands has assumed a new status. Both he and his
work are objects of general concern, and manual labor that is skilled
takes on dignity and honor with the work of the laboratory. No man
who has worked with his hands in any of our modern laboratories will
long despise his neighbor whose handiwork is in a shop, or in the cab
of a locomotive, grimy as that work may be. This world of ours is fast
ceasing to be a world of privilege and war, as it long has been, and is be-
coming through and through a world of work. Faster than he likes the
king is being replaced by the scholar, and the soldier is giving way to the
engineer. The province of the priest is suffering encroachment by
the physician, and the lawyer is having to recognize the contentions of the
social worker. In a score of fields the privilege of dogmatism is being
crushed by established facts, and the privilege of contempt must more
and more disappear as we see how near akin are all the men who work.
In the process of our civilization's making, we see that all who labor
must share in the glory of the final achievement. In this new view both
the worker and his work are lifted to a more elevated place in our view
of things. We realize the human value of the work and we see that
through his work the worker himself is made.

A third and more subtle relation between science and democracy con-
sists in this, that they are both unwilling to close the books. Neither
can accept a closed scheme of thought. Science can not abide a finished

SCIENCE AND DEMOCRACY 261

statement of the world ; democracy refuses a static law. In the field of
animal behavior it is a fundamental fact that the simpler the exciting
situation, the more direct is the response. If there is but one thing to
do there is but one needed reaction, but if there are two possibilities of
behavior there arise conflict, hesitation and compromise. This condi-
tion, present as an elementary fact in the behavior of the lowest animal
organisms, reaches up through the whole conduct of man, rendering his
life a continual struggle to meet the conflicting and incompatible stim-
ulations of his complex environment. The insistent demand for action
leads a man to simplify his world as much as possible. Through a
maze of facts and forces he seeks one unitary principle. Every complex
situation must be simplified, reduced to its lowest terms. When we do
this in chemistry we get the atom ; in biology we get the cell ; in ethics
we get goodness; in religion we get faith.

Wherever men have been thoughtful they have tried to secure a
simple unitary formula, not alone for the great departments of life,
but for the universe as a whole, including the most distant times and
spaces, grouping together into a single system the smallest particle of
insensible sand and the most mighty divine being. The Weltanschau-
ung, the total world view, the apparent multiplicity of phenomena lost
in the unity of eternal forces, this has been the goal of philosophic think-
ing. The vision of such a picture stirs and satisfies the needs of men
because it gives unity to the world and makes for comfortable thought
and conduct. To see the completed picture and then deduce one's own
relation to it, gives confidence and security amid confusion. But philo-
sophic vision outruns the logic upon which it would rest, and when once
a man has announced such a conception he is compelled to spend the
remainder of his days constructing the logic to defend it.

The man who would paint a world picture or construct a closed sys-
tem of thought finds little encouragement in science or among scientific
men. The achievements of science have been in the direction of making
the world more multifarious than it was. Instead of water we have
hydrogen and oxygen, and instead of a human soul we have a stream-
ing concourse of sensibilities, memories, impulses, thoughts, emotions
and decisions. Immersed in the swarming concrete realities of nature,
the scientist finds it difficult to discover the single unifying idea. In-
asmuch as the progress of research is continually laying bare new
realities, he refuses to conclude the case, for the evidence is not all in.
He has, besides, a half belief that the most important witnesses may be
still in waiting. The things which yet lie hidden may overturn his set-
tled beliefs, as the theory of evolution and the discovery of radium
have already done. To the uncovering of these hidden truths all the
machinery of his craft is devoted. To enrich the already multitudinous
world with discovery of as yet unknown facts and forces is his chief aim.

262 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Not that he does not feel the need of a unified world, but he deprecates a
unity with half the world left out. The unity which he seeks must em-
brace it all. If existent he can not see it. If not existent, it may yet
be achieved through his and others' labors.

So also it is with democracy. It holds itself ready to give due jus-
tice to hitherto neglected interests. For this reason it does not have
the stability so advantageous to interests already recognized and estab-
lished. If one wishes stable government, h'e can find it in monarchies
better than in democracies. Until within the last short while the Chi-
nese citizen knew far more definitely upon what to depend in the way of
future wealth or public office than did the citizen of Ohio. The lineage
of his parents and their wealth, and the inescapable doom of sex, preju-
diced his whole future within very narrow and definite limitations.
For four hundred years the firm grip of Manchurian power, abetted by
a religion which emphasized the virtue of tradition and the established
order, gave China a government which for stability has seldom been
equaled. During the same period the more democratic western peoples
have seen turbulence, transition, and constant shift and change of
policies.

Nor is the democratic state always the most efficient state. Let the
German emperor conceive that the future German Empire is dependent
upon particular forms of education and particular humanitarian move-
ments, and he can by virtue of his concentrated power effect the neces-
sary changes in a brief time. The single man can move more swiftly
to the achievement of a clearly conceived end than can a whole people
be brought up in response to the prophet's vision. It is because of this
that Germany in a generation has accomplished industrial, educational,
and social changes which would have required much longer if they had
been the work of the whole population of the German Empire.

But whatever sacrifice of stability and efficiency must be made the
democrat is willing to make in the interest of a larger end. That end is
the possibility of forcing to the front interests which the existing govern-
ment does not recognize. If he wishes to add to his governmental
machinery a new instrument, such as preferential primaries, the income
tax or universal suffrage, he does not want the way too effectually
blocked. Just as men in the sphere of thought refuse to construct a
closed system, so do they in the field of government refuse to make their
laws and constitutions too rigid, or their public officers too secure in
their positions. They want their government fluid and responsive to
change, for the moral issues of life are as surely in a process of develop-
ment as are the intellectual ones. To fix a government on the basis of
the moral ideas of 1789 is as repugnant to the man who thinks as to
write a natural history in the year 1913 with the theory of evolution
left out. Just as certainly as the century has widened our vision of the

SCIENCE AND DEMOCRACY 263

world of matter, it has also brought to light moral facts, and problems
unknown to the framers of the American constitution. In order that
these newer living issues may have their day in court, the democrat is
willing to tolerate a less fixed and stable government than is your
cavalier, your tory, your man of comfortable surroundings who doesn't
like to be disturbed.

Further, we are coming to see that the flexible government is not
dangerous, that we may move on to a larger justice easily and smoothly
without imperiling the goods we already have. That this new vision
is becoming real to us is due to two causes. One of these is our ex-
perience in undergoing political changes; the other is our experience
with science. Science is not destroyed by new discoveries and inven-
tions. Eadium and bacteria may alter certain highly important hypoth-
eses, but they do not destroy our faith in science or make it a less service-
able instrument to men. It has become quite a matter of course to ex-
pect revolutionizing discoveries, and science is at heart disposed to read-
justment and revision. This attitude has taken hold of the general
social mind through the popularization of science, and society at large
has acquired a faith in a mobile, growing body of truth. It is probably
true that twentieth-century society has no more vital faith than this,
and it would be strange if it had not affected our ideas of government
and politics.

For the infusion of scientific conceptions into other fields of thought
we are not without splendid precedent. President Wilson has shown
how the American constitution was a reflection of the prevailing New-
tonian physics, and all of us know how thoroughly the concept of evolu-
tion has interwoven itself into every specialized department of modern
thought. In like manner, the growing receptivity of men's minds to
new interests in society, to the rights of the laboring classes, to the
claims of dependent peoples, to the widening interests of women and
children, has been greatly accelerated by the diffusion of science and
scientific ways of thinking. Men have become accustomed to changing
their minds, to having their beliefs unsettled, to feeling the good that
comes with a new order of things.

Finally, and in the most subtly penetrative way, the kinship of
science and democracy appears in their attitude toward the future.
To both, the present is but a cross section of an advancing stream whose
source is in a distant and indefinite past, whose current has gathered
momentum in its progress hitherward and which is pouring itself into
the future with a rapidly accelerating force. To neither is the past of
this stream so interesting or important as its future, and the present
is but a point of vantage for the movement forward. There is a type
of mind to whom this way of thinking is difficult or even offensive. To
it the good things were the possession of former peoples, and to those

264 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

earlier wisdoms and virtues the modern reprobate may hardly attain.
Such is the theological mind, whose vision of the truth is a distant and
completed revelation; such is the legal mind which judges a current
moral problem wholly by the legal precedents. The one hallows the
ten commandments ; the other glorifies the constitution. Of such mind
are we all when we uncritically accept the conventions of our group or
yield thoughtless obedience to the traditions of our race. To capitulate
to custom or resign ourselves to habit is to accept the past as virtuous
and final.

Against this view of the world both science and democracy resolutely
oppose an exuberant faith. The bulk of men is wiser and better than it
has ever been; it can be infinitely better and wiser than it is. The
critics of science have gratified themselves in pointing out the limita-
tions of its method. But science replies by pushing those limitations
further back. The whole achievement of experimental psychology has
been made against the settled belief on the part of many that it could
not be done. Twenty years ago it seemed that physics had finished its
task. There was then a pessimistic feeling that all the interesting
things had been discovered. To-day men are undertaking experiments
that would have been thought fantastic at that time, and the undis-
covered territory seems greater than ever. They said we could not fly,
but Professor Langley and the Wright Brothers did it. They said you
can not predict the weather, but we can tell it a week ahead of time.
Once it was thought a miracle to cure the blind, but now we do it every
day. Once disease was regarded as the visitation of an offended god,
but to-day we meet it and destroy it with the instruments of science.
Once insanity was the evidence of evil spirits, but to-day the legion of
devils is put to flight by medicine and psychology. Once marriage was
regarded as a holy ordinance to be approached in the spirit of religious
humility; to-day its holiness depends in part upon its religious sanc-
tions; it also depends upon its effects upon possible posterity as these
are indicated by biology and pathology.

Nor is your individual scientist confused or disheartened when you
point out to him how science fails in hosts of cases. He knows that
aviators fall, that the weather does not turn out as predicted, that there
are far more diseases for which we do not know the cure than there are
of those for which we have an antitoxin, that there are forms of insanity
that are supposedly incurable, that we do not know all the laws of
heredity, that the subtle processes of human thinking and education are
baffling to our present psychological methods. But he is not a pessi-
mist. He is one of an advancing army, and he believes that all about
him there are the solid achievements of the campaign ; points have been
taken and citadels have been established back of which the forces of
science will never need to retreat. That many of the supposed con-

SCIENCE AND DEMOCRACY 265

quests of science have been found unsound and that the still unpossessed
territory is inimitably greater than that already gained is but a chal-
lenge to his courage and his resources. To the truly scientific spirit
science is in part an achievement; in a larger sense it is a hope, an
aspiration, a kind of intellectual idealism. As prophecy it is more con-
vincing than revelation; as a field for constructive imagination it is as
interesting as poetry or music.

This also is the spirit of democracy. If one insists on regarding
society as a completed thing, then it must be admitted that democracy
does not justify itself. It has never yet established on a lasting basis
that thoroughgoing equality of which it dreams. The so-called democ-
racy of Greece was admittedly founded upon the institution of slavery;
that of England rests upon an economic submergence of large masses of
its people, and in our own country privilege in business, politics, educa-
tion and religion, with the consequent corruption of society and abortion
of justice mocks our praise of democracy even while we make it. Our
enemies need but to uncover the facts to lay bare a frightful indictment
of our claim that democracy is the best form of social organization.
City councils bought with money, weak and incompetent mayors, police
forces subdued by threats or seduced by gifts, legislatures the willing
servants of men who want the law shaped for their private gain, gov-
ernors caught in the clutches of the party machine and unable to per-
form their sworn duty as executors of the law, seats in the senate bought
with money or the promises of preferment, retired congressmen deliver-
ing their information acquired in the public service to private wealth
for private ends, public courts shaping their procedure so that the man
of means has an advantage over the poor man in the administration of
justice, the supreme court of the land erecting itself into a law-making
body through constitutional interpretation and thereby overriding the
wishes of the people as expressed through their legislatures; four mil-
lion laboring men subsisting on incomes below the level of a living wage ;
children sacrificed to factory labor; women unable to secure from state
legislatures labor conditions comparable to those of men; the dispensa-
tion of religion administered in such a way as to make the rich com-
fortable and stupid, the poor indifferent or bitter, and the thoughtful
anti-ecclesiastic; education for the professional classes but little for
laborers ; palaces and leisure for the rich and hovels and drudgery for
the poor these are the facts flaunted before us in this most democratic
country in the world.

But the real democrat is not disheartened by the hideous picture.
He sees all this and he sees beyond it. In the presence of many failures
he discerns one success, and to him that success is the important thing.
You show him a score of corrupted cities, and beyond them he sees
Cleveland with its new charter; you show him the terrible conditions

266 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

of the textile and steel workers and he thinks of the workmen's com-
pensation and state insurance laws ; you show him a score of state gov-
ernors subservient to the pressure of wealth and he recalls Johnson and
La Follette; you show him failures in government ownership and he
thinks of the post office and Panama Canal; you talk of aristocratic
churches and he remembers the Salvation Army and the institutional
church; you mention subsidized education, and he thinks of the state
university ; you recount the multitudinous cases where the popular suf-
frage fails to select men of learning and character and he thinks of
Hughes, Eoosevelt and Wilson.

That the upward strivings of democracy should have issued in in-
numerable abortions of social ideals is what on his theory was to have
been expected. That these same strivings should have brought to
maturity one well-born child of promise is much more significant, for it
is the augury of the future. Not the level of his attainment but the
direction of his going, concerns him most. His faith in democracy
is not a doctrine of comfort; it is one of effort; he believes not so much
in something attained as in something attainable. It is not something
to be preserved, but something to be achieved. Just as science is an
intellectual aspiration, democracy is a moral aspiration. Together they
constitute an idealism toward which the will to live strives with an
ever-increasing measure of success. To get the tinge of this idealism
is to have one's fragmentary work become more vital. The isolated
research and the little extension of justice in the affairs of men become
significant by their association with larger movements. These in turn
grow weighty with the wider purposes of many men and distant times.

In the realist sense, therefore, our modern life is typified by the
twin movements of science and democracy. To our aspirations they give
hope; to their achievement they solicit all that is vital and generous
in men. They front the future not with the fatalistic view that some-
how all will turn out well, but with the settled faith that that future
will be made by what men do. Both are militant movements. They
set a world of problems still unsolved and lay upon men the obligation
to find the way. In their behalf they enlist a number of social forces,
but to be the leader in their militant campaigns the call comes loudest
to the university. Sad will it be if its ears are closed with selfish pur-
suits or its feet heavy with an unforgettable past.

RACE MOVEMENTS 267

BIOLOGICAL EFFECTS OF EACE MOVEMENTS

By Chancellor DAVID STARR JORDAN

STANFORD UNIVERSITY

THEEE are but three ways in which the force of a race or a nation
may be permanently lowered : ( 1 ) Emigration, the transfer of
stronger elements to other regions; (2) immigration, filling up the gaps
with people of lower native ability or energy; (3) war, the destruction
of the virile and soldierly.

Emigration has played a large part in the depletion of peoples in
different districts of Europe and even in older sections of the United
States. This may mark a loss to the particular region involved, but
none to the world, the value of a man and his posterity, broadly speak-
ing, being as great in one place as in another. Moreover, the pioneer
gains by travel, picking up something on the road, though he may also
lose through separation from the framework of society. In the new
freedom he tends to fall out of touch with the achievements of the old
social fabric. Much of human effectiveness consists in entering into the
work of others. But, on the other hand, the pioneer will escape many
hampering traditions, and the sturdiness of racial stock is in no way
dependent upon culture, the social values of native strength reasserting
themselves when opportunity offers. Meanwhile, the gains in the new
world may be traced as losses in the old. For example, from the counties
of Devon and Somerset arose, primarily, the colony of Massachusetts
Bay. From the loins of Old England, New England arose, and from
self-governing New England, the democracy of the United States.
From Devon especially came forth the Puritan conscience, most preci-
ous political heritage of the republic. Under its influence every public
act finds its final test in moral standards. Such standards still rank
more highly in America than in any other land. The American people
may consent to unrighteous deeds under the impulse of falsehood or
greed, but only for a time. They make many mistakes in the rush of
events. They may apply standards wrongly, but, if they do, the case
comes up again for settlement until at last it is settled rightly.

By immigration, lands scantily occupied by barbarous races have
been replaced by peoples more efficient or more aggressive. Through
the same agency strong nations have sucked in weaker groups to fill the
vacuum caused by war or to meet the demands of industry. The history
of America, North and South, has furnished examples of all these.
Through conquest by war as well as out of industrial needs grew up the

268 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

institution of slavery. In Rome, " whole tribes were borrowed " for the
work of agriculture, while conquered groups were utilized as menials or
slaves.

Everywhere, under these conditions, the blood of the slave or the
conquered has diluted that of the dominating race, usually to its detri-
ment. For example, in most Spanish and Portuguese colonies Latin
blood has been mixed with the aboriginal, producing crosses showing
few of the virtues of the European stock. Indeed, in Portugal, the
mixture from subject races in Brazil, Africa and India, has invaded
the parent itself to its social and political confusion.

Two main facts appear in this connection. In many racial crossings
occurs the mingling of the least desirable types of each. Naturally
where the dregs of one race mix with the offscourings of another arise
distressing possibilities of vice and incompetence. For instance, the
Eurasian in Asiatic sea-ports "is damned from his birth and on both
sides." But when good European blood mingles with Asiatic strains as
good, there is no evidence that the progeny is inferior to either parent
stock.

The words "hybrid" or "mongrel," terms of reproach as usually
applied to the human race, relate commonly to the union of widely
different peoples. But the question of "race or mongrel" can not be
settled by a priori assertions as to superiority of pure over mixed races.
There is no general law that mongrels are sterile, inert and non-resist-
ant. It is a matter to be determined in any individual case of crossing
by a study of the results derived. Experiments of the sort have no
pertinency unless best is mated with best, and even then they might
prove conclusive only if many times repeated. And no result shown
in individuals need be valid as a general law of crossing. It would
apply only to the particular types in question. No important informa-
tion could be expected from the study of the first generation. One
would need to know the nature of the recessive characters involved as
well as of the dominant ones. The final Mendelian disposition of
mixed race characters must determine the final answer.

The intermarriage of European races can hardly be called crossing
at all, as the racial differences concerned are of slight order, little more
than temperamental at the best, and most of the traits we commonly
recognize are matters of education. All those qualities which disappear
in a generation in America must be chargeable to education, not to race.
And, in general, other things being equal, the advantage seems to be on
the side of the blended races which belong to the same general stock.
Moreover, in civilized lands, there are only blended races. Blending is
part of civilization. Pure strains confined to isolated islands or valleys,
thus withdrawn from competition, by no means represent the best of
any race. There is no wide-spread race which is pure. There is no such

RACE MOVEMENTS 269

thing as a pure-blooded German or Frenchman. "Norman and. Saxon
and Dane are we " of England. Likewise are we Briton and Welsh and
Cornish; also Scotchmen, Highland and Lowland, Manxmen, Ulster-
men and Irishmen.

That the crossing of the closely allied European races in America
has, of itself, brought no disaster to our republic is a matter of visible
observation. That wide crosses necessarily work always for evil is not
proved. Apparently the mulatto in America, as a whole, is superior to
the pure African negro. And the ultimate fate of the negro race in
America is apparently to become mulatto, even though the introduc-
tion of white blood is relatively much less frequent now than in the
days of slavery. But, in all these matters, we are much in need of
scientific, that is, exact and systematized information.

However, it can be clearly seen that the introduction of black blood
has not been a gain to the republic. And we may also admit that much
of our later immigration from Europe and Asia has lowered our own
average. The original impulse to America was that of escape from
paternalism and oppression, two words for the same thing. America
was a haven of refuge from senseless tyranny. Immigration thus
brought to the new world a wealth of initiative and adaptability, such
as no nation ever inherited before. But in later days tins current has
changed. Wider opportunity has opened before the common man in the
more progressive nations, and the incentive of freedom has been less
acute. Moreover, while still " America means opportunity," this is not
always to be had for the asking.

The demands of manufacturers, the operations of steamship com-
panies and the possibilities of earning money without economic freedom,
and later, the ruinous cost of war are drawing another type of immi-
grant from other parts of the world. Among the immigrants of
to-day there are some with magnificent personal possibilities, men of the
stuff that makes republics. But most of them are not such, and, while
their presence adds to our material wealth, they constitute, as a whole, a
burden on our democracy. Only a man who can take care of himself
and have something left over for the common welfare is a good citizen.
It is hard to maintain the principle of equality before the law among
people who have never felt and never demanded such equality.

The claim is sometimes made on an assumed basis of science, that all
races of men are biologically equal, and that the differences of capacity
which appear are due to opportunity and to education. But opportunity
has come to no race as a gift. By effort it has created its own environ-
ment. Powerful strains make their own opportunity. The progress of
each race has depended on its own inherent qualities. There has been
no other leverage. Physical surroundings have played only a minor
part. To say that one race as a whole is inferior to another is only to

27o TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

repeat what is said every day by individual men. This does not imply
that the lower man or the lower race need be robbed, enslaved or exter-
minated. Nor that a lower race may not produce its own prophets or
scholars or heroes. The tribe of Australian bushmen is counted one of
the lowest on earth. Not long ago I met in Adelaide, a full-blooded
"Black-fellow," broad-minded and competent, a mechanical engineer
by profession, a man who would hold his own in any community. That
race is lowest which shows, on the whole, least capacity for self-elevation.
"All men are born free and equal," it is asserted, but such equality is
political only. It can not be biological. In every race are certain
strains having capacities not attainable by the mass. There should be
equality of start, equality before the law, but there will always be differ-
ences of attainment. The gifts of potentiality, unit characters of the
germ-plasm, are not shared by all people of the same race. The average
status of one may be below that of another, and the highest possibilities
of one type may be greater than that of another. In general, the
highest range of possibilities in every field has been reached by the
" blonde races " of Europe. Groups of less individual or of less aggre-
gate achievement may properly be regarded as "lower."

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 271

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES

By Professor LYNN THORNDIKE

■WESTERN RESERVE UNIVERSITY

PROBABLY ninety-nine out of every hundred educated persons
would be surprised to learn that there was any such thing as
natural science in the middle ages. Lest I seem to impute too much
ignorance to my present audience, perhaps I should lower the ratio to
nine persons out of ten. That is really a flattering estimate, since one
of the most recent works on the middle ages, Taylor's "The Medieval
Mind," while it devotes two volumes to monasticism, scholasticism and
other features of medieval thought, treats of natural science in the
middle ages only incidentally in two chapters upon Albertus Magnus
and Roger Bacon, and dismisses all other medieval students of nature
with the words,

Assuredly, through all the middle ages there were men who noticed such
physical phenomena as bore upon their lives, even men who cared for the dumb
beginnings of what eventually might lead to natural science. But they were
not representative of their epoch's master energies.

Such an attitude is due partly to the fact that the history of science
has as yet been little investigated ; it is also partly due to misconceptions
concerning the middle ages. If we appreciate what the middle ages
really were, we shall not be amazed to find an interest in natural science
then.

Every one knows that by the term "middle ages" is roughly indi-
cated the period between ancient civilization and modern civilization,
or, more specifically, between the. decline of the Roman Empire and the
Italian Renaissance or the discovery of America. For a time historians,
under the influence either of classical or of Protestant prejudices, seemed
to think that between ancient civilization and modern civilization there
was no civilization. Therefore, the term " dark ages " was applied to the
middle ages. Everything worth while in modern life was supposed
either to have been rescued from the ruins of antiquity by the men of
the Renaissance, or to have originated at some time since. Every disused
and decadent idea or custom which modern men threw away on to the
historical ash-heap was designated as medieval.

But after a while the middle ages were studied more thoroughly and
sympathetically. Monasticism, feudalism, scholasticism, the social and

2 72 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

industrial groups of manor and guild, the crusades, the pilgrimages, the
friars, the cathedrals, and the great ideals of the church and of chivalry,
were recognized as important in human history, though different from
the thoughts and doings of men before or since. The expression " medi-
eval civilization " was now introduced alongside of "ancient civiliza-
tion" and "modern civilization," while the phrase "dark ages" was
restricted to the early middle ages while the barbarian invasions were
going on. Indeed, a recent writer on the history of education wittily
states that successive investigations keep pushing the "dark ages" so
much further and further back that they will probably ultimately cover
no time whatever.

There was, then, civilization, if not natural science, in the middle
ages. But it would be leaving a wrong impression to imply that medi-
eval civilization was something quite distinct from ancient or modern
civilization. The fact is, and after all it is just what one would naturally
expect, that medieval civilization was in large measure a combination of
ancient and modern elements. Much it inherited ; much it originated ;
and much it passed on. Moreover, the middle ages really belong partly
to ancient and partly to modern times. This principle is now being largely
accepted even in high-school teaching and text-books. The year course
in ancient history is carried down to Charlemagne, while medieval and
modern history are united as a single year's work. In the museums of
Europe, too, no great gap is observed between the middle ages and the
renaissance, but objects are usually classified together under one caption
as of both those periods.

It is very difficult to separate history into distinct periods, yet there
is considerable reason for regarding Charlemagne, towering as he did
seven feet tall and fighting a campaign every season for over forty years,
as the last great landmark of ancient times. With all his vigor he caused
little or no permanent progress. He failed to drive the Mohammedans
from Spain; under his successors the Northmen and other invaders
broke up his empire. But when the Northmen, after their wonderful
expansion in all directions from Greenland to the Mediterranean and
from Eussia to North America, had settled down in Normandy, Eng-
land, Sicily and elsewhere; when they had with amazing rapidity
adapted and improved upon such civilization as they found still existing
in their new homes ; when the Arabs had brought from the East to Spain
the material civilization of the Orient and the intellectual treasures of
the Greek genius; and when the men of the north, either as peaceful
traders and pilgrims or warlike crusaders, had visited Spain, Constan-
tinople and the Holy Land ; the wheels of progress started moving with
a new alacrity and things began to hum. Once again, as had happened
before in the Mediterranean Basin, the races of the north descended
upon and fused with those of the south, and the east passed on to the
west the torch of civilization.

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 273

The results of this contact were felt first in Spain and Italy, but
the new civilization became generally manifest throughout western
Europe in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. This is the period of
which I shall speak this afternoon, and I shall now remind you of some
things in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries that were modern in
character, so that you may not be surprised when I suggest that modern
science, too, began in the middle ages. A book has been written recently
on what we owe to the Greeks ; let us see what we owe to the middle ages.

In the first place, the Celtic and Teutonic races and the Roman
Catholic church. Those races were absorbed, and were trained and
inspired to erect a new civilization. In this work the church, as the
greatest social force of the times, played the chief part. It has well
been said that the Teutonic vigor and originality, and the spirit of
western Christianity were quite as responsible for the Italian Renais-
sance as was the classical revival. There was no renaissance at Con-
stantinople, though there was plenty of study of Greek there. At Con-
stantinople classical culture remained as it were in cold storage. In
Italy there was a fresh living movement. New blood and new ideals
were responsible.

Secondly and more specifically, our modern languages and literatures
began in the middle ages before the classical revival. Already in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries the languages of modern Europe were
taking on literary form, and poets were expressing in their own tongues
the spirit of a new age. A specialist in comparative literature assures
us that the popular literature of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries
resembles eighteenth and nineteenth century literature more than it
does that of the ninth and tenth centuries which were so much nearer
in mere point of time.

In art we owe to the middle ages the marvelous Gothic style of archi-
tecture with its new structural conceptions and infinite resource of
adornment.

In politics there began then national states in contrast to the city
states and empires of antiquity. - Representative government, too, was
developed as it had not been in ancient times. Representative institu-
tions were widespread in western Europe at the close of the thirteenth
century, and survived in England through succeeding centuries to
furnish a model for other nations which reintroduced parliamentary
government in the nineteenth century. Bishop Stubbs limited his
famous " Constitutional History of England " to the medieval period.
During that time the English were busy making their constitution;
ever since they have been busy breaking it.

The middle ages recovered from the economic dry-rot which had
ruined the Roman empire from within before ever the barbarians broke
through its military shell from without. The middle ages revived the

vol. lxxxvii. — 19.

274 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

city life of antiquity, but with these modern differences, that religion
was separate from the state, and that the institution of human slavery
found no place in the medieval town. There the freeman was not
ashamed to toil, and the runaway serf could acquire liberty. Slavery
has been reckoned by one historian of science as one of the five great
obstacles to the advance of science in antiquity; if so, the middle ages
were better off in this respect.

Early in the twelfth century there was a great outburst of enthusiasm
for learning and of intellectual curiosity. Students swarmed from all
parts of western Europe seeking teachers ; the result was that foundation
of the European universities whose intellectual life has been continuous
from then until now. Eoman law was revived and studied scientifically.
The fruits of Greek philosophy, preserved by the Arabs in Spain or the
Orient in translations and commentaries, were translated again, — this
time into Latin, which in the Christian West was now the universal
language of scholarship. Humanism, classical scholarship in the strict
and narrow sense, and the great paintings and sculptures of the Italians
in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, were but later phases of
the same movement. Petrarch, the first great humanist, who adored
Cicero, wrote letters like Pliny the Younger, collected and copied ancient
manuscripts, and came to scorn all contemporary interests except his own
fame, has often been called the first modern man, but in many ways seems a
reactionary looking backward. Abelard, the first great schoolman, who
over two centuries before Petrarch's time wandered forth from his
native Brittany, first seeking teachers, then triumphing over them, then
attracting students to himself ; Abelard, who dared to show that even the
church fathers held conflicting opinions, and who advocated sceptical
and systematic criticism as the best road to knowledge; Abelard, more
than Petrarch, deserves the title of the first modern man.

Turning now from medieval civilization as a whole to this medieval
learning in particular, let us correct some erroneous notions concerning
it. For one thing, we have been taught to call medieval learning
scholasticism, and to think of it as concerned almost exclusively with
logic, metaphysics and theology ; while we have been taught to associate
the beginnings of modern science with the Italian Eenaissance. But the
fact is that the narrow humanist of the Eenaissance took no more inter-
est in natural science than did the narrow schoolman of the middle ages.
The sciences which they cultivated were philology and theology. The
fact is that natural science has had a more or less continuous develop-
ment of its own, largely independent of the middle ages and Eenaissance.
Books on nature written in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were
still satisfactory to readers in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, as is
shown by numerous editions of them which were printed then.

The reliance of the middle ages upon the authority of the Greek

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 275

philosopher Aristotle has often been exaggerated. In medicine they
recognized Galen as a greater authority than Aristotle. In astronomy
Ptolemy was their guide. In natural history they cited Pliny the Elder.
Indeed they used scores of other authorities than Aristotle. But had he
been their sole source of information, they would not have been without
interest in natural science, for Aristotle devotes much attention to that
field. He wrote not only on logic, ethics and metaphysics; but on
physics, animals, plants, minerals, the heavens, sleep and waking, gener-
ation and corruption, and so forth. Indeed, he was without much
doubt the greatest scientist of antiquity.

Now the twelfth century had known only Aristotle's "Logic."
When his other works were brought from Spain and translated from
Arabic into Latin in the early thirteenth century, those devoted to
nature created even more of a furore than the others. The great Univer-
sity of Paris at first prohibited these newly discovered books in natural
philosophy. But it was impossible to check the rising tide of secular
and scientific learning. Another French university at Toulouse adver-
tised its readiness to teach these works of Aristotle on nature, and before
long the forbidden books were being freely taught at Paris itself.

Paris's two leading theologians and commentators on Aristotle were
also recognized in their own day as great students of nature. Albertus
Magnus wrote on all the subjects that Aristotle had treated and added
much new information in his works on plants and animals. Thomas
Aquinas is usually thought of as a theologian; but when he died, the
University of Paris wrote to the Dominicans asking that his bones might
be sent to Paris for burial, and also requesting the transmission of
some books begun by him while at the university but not as yet com-
pleted upon his departure from Paris. What were these writings ; theo-
logical treatises, commentaries on the minor prophets, or manuals of
devotion ? None of these. They were a commentary on the philosopher
Simplicius ; another on Aristotle's treatise " The Sky and Universe " ; a
third on Plato's " Timaeus," a dialogue dealing with nature ; and finally,
a treatise on irrigation and mechanical engineering.

Another erroneous notion concerning the middle ages is that nature
was studied chiefly in order to illustrate spiritual truth or to teach
moral lessons. The " Bestiary," a little manual about animals used by
the clergy for illustrations in their sermons, is often referred to as
typical of medieval science ; but one might as well judge modern science
by the lurid articles in the supplements of our Sunday newspapers. Far
more typical are the long encyclopedias in Latin prose which collected
all available information concerning the phenomena of nature, and
whose motive was rather a keen curiosity about the things of this world
than a desire merely to illustrate divine verities. It is true that one of
the earliest and briefest of these encyclopedists, Alexander Neckam, an

276 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

English monk, still tends to moralize and allegorize. For instance, he
says that some persons call the spots on the moon caverns or mountains,
but that he believes that they were put there to signify the stain of
sin which Adam's transgression brought into the world. But Neckani
also displays a scientific attitude. When he finds a statement in the
book of Genesis in apparent contradiction to the astronomy of his time,
he explains that the Bible here follows "the judgment of the eye and the
popular notion," but that astronomy is really right. The later and longer
encyclopedias of Arnold of Saxony, Thomas of Cantimpre, Bartholomew
of England, and Vincent of Beauvais greatly increased the amount of
space devoted to nature and contained comparatively little moralizing.

I may explain that in a medieval encyclopedia, instead of the alpha-
betical arrangement followed in modern encyclopedias, there is first a
topical arrangement under such heads as Reptiles or Birds or Trees, and
then an alphabetical arrangement under each topic. As in modern
encyclopedias, most of the information was taken from other books, but
sometimes the medieval encyclopedist adds new data which he has heard
from hunters, travelers and others, or which he has learned from per-
sonal observation.

The twelfth and thirteenth centuries were a period of intellectual
curiosity. Albertus Magnus says that he lists the properties of indi-
vidual plants in order to satisfy the curiosity of his students. A favor-
ite book of the period, translated into almost every European language,
was entitled, "De omni re scibili et quibusdam aliis" which may be
freely translated as " Concerning everything that can be known and
then some." Indeed, it is not merely in professedly learned works
written in Latin that one sees the interest of those times in natural
science. If we turn to popular literature in the tongue of the layman
and open one of the long French romances of the thirteenth century,
we find Dame Nature making a speech concerning various branches of
natural science which occupies a considerable section of the entire
poem, whereas little space is devoted to logic or theology.

This interest in nature is often accompanied by an independent
scientific spirit, of which we have just seen some evidence even in the
moralizing Neckam. But it can be traced back earlier than him to the
beginning of the twelfth century. As the life story and writings of
Abelard illustrate the great interest in logic, philosophy and theology at
the beginning of the twelfth century, and help to explain the origin
of the University of Paris; so the career and books of a contemporary
of his with a very similar name, Adelard of Bath, depict a pioneer of
natural science. As Abelard went forth from Brittany through the
towns of France in quest of Christian teachers, so from England Ade-
lard made a wider circuit in lands both Christian and Mohammedan,
where he might acquaint himself with all that was best in contemporary
learning, but especially in mathematics and natural science.

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 277

In one of his works he tells us that upon his recent return to Eng-
land after long study abroad, his nephew and other friends urged him
to disclose some of the new ideas that he had learned among the Arabs.
The result is his treatise called " Natural Questions " in the form of a
dialogue with his nephew, who proposes, by means of a set of questions,
to force his uncle Adelard to justify his preference for " the opinions of
the Saracens" concerning nature over those of "the schools of Gaul"
where the nephew has been studying. Adelard agrees to this, but wishes
to state at the start that, because of the prejudice of the present genera-
tion against any modem discoveries, he will attribute even his own ideas
to the Arabs and will not be personally responsible for what he says.
" For I know," he declares, " what misfortunes pursue the professors of
truth among the common crowd. Therefore it is the cause of the Arab3
that I plead, not my own."

Adelard's use of the word "modern" should be noted. The word
modernus is not found in classical Latin, but is often employed in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries. In another passage Adelard distin-
guishes "the writings of men of old" from "the science of moderns."
Bartholomew of England rejects an astronomical theory of the Venerable
Bede, and says that he prefers the view of "modern writers who, as I
think, have scrutinized the subtler signs of philosophy more pro-
foundly." Peter of Spain, who finally became Pope John XXL, in one
of his medical treatises states his sources of information as "ancient
philosophers" and "modern experimenters." Several other writers use
like expressions. So perhaps Adelard rather than either Petrarch or
Abelard should be called the first modern man.

The opening question asked of Adelard by his nephew is, "How
can plants grow from earth which they so little resemble?" The
nephew fails to see how this can be explained except as "a marvelous
effect of the marvelous divine will." Adelard retorts that no doubt it is
the Creator's will, but that the operation is also not without a natural
reason. This gives a fair example of the tone of the dialogue through-
out; Adelard upholds scientific- argument and investigation against a
narrow religious attitude. He insists that he is in no way detracting from
God, whom he grants to be the source of all things, but that nature " is
not confused and without system," and that "human science should be
given a hearing on those points which it has covered." He also sets
reason above authority; and sharply reprimands his nephew for follow-
ing authority as if he were a brute led by a halter, for his bestial
credulity, for his trusting simply in the mention of an old title. In
fine, he tells his nephew that if their discussion is to go any further, he
must drop authorities and "give and take reason." He assures his
young relation that he is not the sort of a man " who can be fed on the
picture of a beefsteak."

278 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

It is true that both questions and answers in this pioneer book of
natural science are usually more amusing than instructive to the modern
reader, although Adelard in his prologue says that he is sure his treatise
will be useful to his hearers, but not that it will prove entertaining
(tractatum . . . quern quidem auditoribus suis utilem fore scio, iocun-
dum nescio). Asked why men do not have horns, Adelard first objects
that the question is trivial; but when the nephew urges the utility of
homs as weapons of defense, Adelard replies that man has reason instead
of horns, and that, as a social as well as bellicose animal, he requires
arms which he can lay aside in time of peace. Asked why the nose is
placed above the mouth, he replies that it serves the head while the
mouth serves the stomach. Many of his explanations are grounded
upon the hypothesis current since the Greek philosopher Empedocles,
that all nature is composed of four elements, earth, air, fire and water,
and characterized by four qualities, hot, cold, dry and moist. Thus when
Adelard is asked why bright students often have poor memories, he
answers that a moist brain is conducive to intelligence, and a dry
cerebrum to memory. He explains his nephew's weeping for joy to see
his uncle safely returned from the Orient by the theory that his exces-
sive delight heated his brain and distilled moisture thence.

But reasoning from a general theory of nature to explain particular
phenomena is not Adelard's sole method; he also relies on experience.
Nor are all his notions crude and incorrect. While he accepts the long
established theory of four elements, he is careful to explain that the
earth which we see and call by that name is not the element earth, and
that no one has ever touched the element water, or seen the elements fire
and air. Every particular object contains all four elements, and in
daily life we deal only with compounds.

Adelard states the eternity of matter as follows:

And certainly in my judgment nothing in this sensible world ever perishes
or is less to-day than when it was created. If a part is dissolved from one
union, it does not perish but is joined to some other group.

When his nephew asks him to explain the working of a magic water
jar which they once saw at an enchantress's house, and which had holes
in both top and bottom so that the attendant could check the flow of
water from the bottom by placing his fingers over the apertures in the
top, Adelard accounts for the trick by saying that nature abhors a
vacuum. Asked how far a stone would fall, if it were dropped into a
hole which extended through the center of the earth, he states that it
would fall as far as the center and stop there.

We have heard Adelard upholding scientific argument and investi-
gation against a narrow religious attitude. This position is further
illustrated by a contemporary of his, William of Conches in Normandy.
William, too, complains that the age is instinctively hostile to new

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 279

ideas; and dilates upon the unreasonableness of those persons who are
unwilling to listen to explanations of the natural phenomena mentioned
in the Scriptures, but prefer to accept them blindly. He declares that
since they themselves know nothing of the forces of nature, they are
unwilling that any one else should investigate these. "We, on the
contrary/' he says, " think that a reason should be sought in every case,
if one can be found." In another passage William's indignation is
aroused by those who say, " We don't know how this is, but we know that
God can do it." " You poor fools," he retorts, " God can make a cow
out of a tree but has he ever done so ? "

This theological opposition, of which Adelard and William are con-
scious, brings before us the important problem of the attitude of the
medieval church to science. There is not time to-day to argue it at length ;
I can only give you my conclusions. We see science establishing its own
standpoint and marking out the boundaries of its realm. The first
surveyors, like Adelard and William, naturally meet with opposition and
encounter a jealous attitude which fears lest study of science and nature
will be at the expense of religion and God. But in the end it turns out
that so long as they do not trespass upon the particular preserves of
theology their stakes are not pulled up. In the course of two centuries
the church gradually gets used to science, just as the University of
Paris finally accepts the new Aristotle. By the middle of the thirteenth
century Thomas Aquinas, from whom we expect an authoritative pres-
entation of the position of the church, holds that to a large extent the
fields of theology and natural science are distinct; that theologians
should not try to settle purely philosophical or scientific problems, and,
conversely, that every theory of ancient philosophy or scientific hypoth-
esis is not to be regarded as a religious dogma.

Men of science, who were often clergymen themselves, seldom
attacked Christianity in the middle ages, and as a rule maintain the
usual medieval tone of respectful and devout feeling toward theology
and religion. Conversely, there seems no adequate proof for a single
specific instance of persecution- of men of science by the church for
purely scientific views in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The
occasions when such men got into trouble and when we know the reason
why, are just those occasions when they left science to dabble in theo-
logical or ecclesiastical concerns. Eoger Bacon has often been pictured
as a long-suffering martyr to the cause of science, but this is a legend
constructed from historians' imaginations and added to by successive
writers; the sources indicate that he was imprisoned only once, and
then we do not know for how long nor whether his scientific work had
anything to do with it. On the other hand, many cases might be men-
tioned where popes and prelates patronized and protected medieval men
of science, while Peter of Spain became pope himself.

28o TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

It can not be shown then that there was bitter warfare between sci-
ence and theology in the middle ages ; nor, on the other hand, was science
a handmaid at theology's beck and call. The two interests were begin-
ning to separate, sometimes with a little friction, often with much
caution on the part of science, yet on the whole with maintenance of
friendly relations between them. Science was still somewhat under the
wing of the church, but science was learning to use its own wings.

Having traced back the scientific spirit in western Christian Europe
to the twelfth and thirteenth centuries rather than to the time of the
Italian Renaissance, let us now examine some of the particular fields
which it investigated.

Physics was studied now, and not merely along the theoretical lines
of Aristotle's treatise. Further progress had been made among the
Arabs in optics; and the subjects of vision, perspective, reflection and
refraction were now better understood than in the time of Ptolemy. The
men of the thirteenth century speedily absorbed these new ideas of the
Arabs. Roger Bacon, it is true, while according due credit to the Arabs,
gives us the impression that his Latin contemporaries were neglecting
the subject of optics, and describes the formation of rainbows, and the
characteristics of convex and concave mirrors, burning glasses and
lenses by which the size of objects can be greatly magnified, or mirrors
by which their numbers can be greatly multiplied, as if all these things
were marvelous novelties. Bacon's own discussion of these matters is
excellent, and in some details he corrects or adds to his Arabian author-
ities, but he does not do justice to his Christian contemporaries. At just
about this time Witelo, a Pole who traveled in Italy, wrote an important
treatise on optics in which he embodied the views of Alhazen, the lead-
ing Arabian authority, together with many additions from other writers
and of his own. Moreover, the French "Romance of the Rose," prob-
ably written soon after Bacon's work, shows remarkable familiarity with
all the things that he describes. Of rainbows it remarks that

Only he who's learned the rule
Of optics in some famous school
Can to his fellow men explain
How 'tis that from the sun they gain
Their glorious hues.

The author also mentions burning-glasses and various other sorts of
mirrors, but he refers to all these as well-known scientific facts, and
says that there are plenty of books about them. He also unmistakably
describes magnifyng glasses when he tells us that from optics one

. . . may learn the cause
"Why mirrors, through some subtle laws
Have power to objects seen therein
(Atoms minute or letters thin)
To give appearance of fair size,

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE ACES 281

Though naked unassisted eyes

Can scarce perceive them. Grains of sand

Seem stones when through these glasses scanned.

The poet goes on to say that through these glasses one can read
letters from such a distance that one would not believe it unless he had
seen it. Then he concludes,

But to these matters blind affiance

No man need give; they're proved by science.

From the testimony of several other contemporaries we know that
eye-glasses had been invented before the close of the thirteenth century.

Another important physical treatise besides Witelo's was a " Book on
Weights " by Jordanus Nemorarius earlier in the century. In this work
he is said to have made progress in dynamics beyond the ancients.
Another invention of great use to science, clocks, was worked out during
the middle ages. An innovation of great convenience in scientific
reckoning and records was made when Leonardo, a merchant of Pisa, in
a work written first in 1202 and then revised in 1228, brought the so-
called Arabic numerals to the attention of "Western Europe. Some
progress in algebra was also made in the middle ages, and Roger Bacon
emphasized the importance of mathematical method in scientific inves-
tigation.

It can not be shown that Roger Bacon actually anticipated any of
our modern inventions, but the following passage from one of his works
does indicate that an interest existed then in machinery and mechanical
devices, and that men were already beginning to struggle with the
problems which have recently been solved.

Machines for navigation can be made without rowers so that the largest
ships on rivers or seas will be moved by a single man in charge with greater
velocity than if they were full of men. Also cars can be made so that without
animals they will move with unbelievable rapidity; such we opine were the
scythe-bearing chariots with which the men of old fought. Also flying ma-
chines can be constructed so that a man sits in the midst of the machine re-
volving some engine by which artificial wings are made to beat the air like a
flying bird. Also a machine smaH in size for raising or lowering enormous
weights, than which nothing is more useful in emergencies. For by a machine
three fingers high and wide and of less size a man could free himself and hia
friends from all danger of prison and rise and descend. Also a machine can
easily be made by which one man can draw a thousand to himself by violence
against their wills, and attract other things in like manner. Also machines can
be made for walking in the sea and rivers, even to the bottom without danger.
For Alexander the Great employed such, that he might see the secrets of the
deep, as Ethicus the astronomer tells. These machines were made in antiquity
and they have certainly been made in our times, except possibly a flying ma-
chine which I have not seen nor do I know any one who has, but I know an ex-
pert who has thought out the way to make one. And such things can be made
almost without limit, for instance, bridges across rivers without piers or other
supports, and mechanisms, and unheard of engines.

282 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Since Bacon's authority concerning Alexander is unreliable and his
conjecture concerning ancient scythe-bearing chariots unwarranted, we
may also doubt if steamboats and automobiles had "certainly been
made" in his day; but there seems little doubt that men were trying
to accomplish such things.

The modern science of geology was a sealed book both to the middle
ages and to antiquity. But in geography the middle ages seem to have
preserved the knowledge of the ancients and to have added considerably
thereto. The north of Europe and its adjacent seas now became better
known. In the thirteenth century medieval missionaries and travelers
penetrated to the far East, and the accounts of the Venetian trader,
Marco Polo, and of the Franciscan friar, William of Kubruk, gave infor-
mation concerning China and Japan, — lands practically unknown to
the men of classical times. The mariner's compass must have been
known in western Europe by the twelfth century; it is first mentioned
by Alexander ISTeckam, the same man who thought that Adam's fall
caused the spots on the moon. It very possibly was a western invention,
since it can hardly be proved that it was known before this in the
Orient, where some think that it was first introduced by the Portuguese.
After ISTeckam the compass is frequently referred to by western writers
and was evidently in common use. The old story that sailors were long
afraid to use the new instrument lest they be accused of magic seems to
be an arrant fabrication with no foundation in the writings of the time,
which speak of the invention in a tone of perfect freedom and uncon-
cern. In the fourteenth century came the development of deep sea sail-
ing and Atlantic navigation; and the Portuguese by 1350 had dis-
covered the Canary, Madeira and Azores Islands. The Italian sailors
became so expert in charting coasts that Professor Beazley affirms that a
certain fourteenth-century map of the Mediterranean is superior to any
other until as late as the eighteenth century. Thus in the middle ages
the foundations were laid for the circumnavigation of Africa and dis-
covery of America in the last decade of the fifteenth century. Already
in Dante's time every well-educated person knew that the world was
round and that the people on the other side could not possibly fall off;
and any one who read Pliny and Seneca, as every medieval student of
nature did, could read, as Eoger Bacon did, that the space dividing the
west of Spain from the east of India was not great. Other authorities,
however, made the distance much greater.

Alchemy, the art which strove to convert metals of less value into
gold, is usually associated especially with the middle ages, and regarded
as a proof of their superstition compared to the scientific perfection of
modern chemistry. "We must make several amendments to this view.
First, alchemy is in no sense peculiarly medieval but existed in the an-
cient Greek-speaking world and perhaps came down from ancient Egypt.

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 283

Berthelot found 160 tracts by Greek alchemists. Also, various dis-
tinguished scientists continued to believe in the transmutation of metals
as late as the seventeenth century. Second, thirteenth century alchemy
was less superstitious and more scientific than in previous periods,
whether among the Greeks or more recently among the Arabs. This
fact has been rather obscured because the editors and publishers of books
on alchemy in the sixteenth century preferred to print such treatises as
made great pretensions and were full of mystic language. Thus the
productions of charlatans got into print and the more sober works of
rational investigators remained for the most part neglected in manu-
scripts. These, however, have now been studied by Berthelot with the
following results.

Whereas Greek tracts on alchemy are all in an archaic enigmatic
style, " combining in one undecipherable medley terms of obscure mean-
ing, magical formulas, astrological notions, citations from mystic
authors, and cryptic allusions to a philosophy long since buried too deep
for present resurrection " ; on the contrary, the thirteenth century trea-
tises are full of positive details and rational argument. Moreover, the
medieval alchemists are careful to refute those who deny the possibility
of transmuting metals, while it does not seem to have entered the heads
of the Greek alchemists that any one should doubt the truth of their art.
Third, this progress is not due to the Arabs. Berthelot discovered only
one treatise in Arabic which contained precise and minute details about
chemical substances and operations. As a rule the Arabian alchemists
wrote "theoretical works full of allegories and declamations." For a
long time several works important in the history of chemistry as well as
of alchemy were regarded as Latin translations from the Arab Geber,
who was consequently regarded as a pioneer in the history of science.
Berthelot discovered the Arabic manuscripts which turned out to be of
little value and largely copied from Greek sources. On the other hand,
the Latin works which had gone under Geber's name were produced in
the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries by men who seem, like Adelard
of Bath, to have preferred to attribute their own ideas to the Arabs.

Let us examine for a moment with Berthelot the chief of these
treatises. It is " a systematic work, very well arranged." " Its modest
method of exposition" differs greatly from "the excessive and vague
promises of the real Geber." It refutes scepticism as to alchemy in a
long scholastic discussion typical of the thirteenth century. But this is no
mere scholastic treatise. Parts of it possess " a truly scientific character "
and show "the state of chemical knowledge and theory with a precision
of thought and expression unknown to previous authors." The writer
"defines carefully silver, lead and the other metals, and traces the
characteristic features of their chemical history as far as it was then
known. If you leave out a few incorrect details connected with trans-

284 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

mutation, all these chapters show the stamp of solid science." Else-
where the writer describes chemical operations, and "each description
is full of special details and illustrated in the manuscript by exact
figures."

Eoger Bacon, too, shows us that alchemy was not intent merely upon
transmutation, when he defines it as the science " concerning the gener-
ation of things from the elements, and concerning all inanimate things,
such as the elements and humors single and compound, ordinary stones,
gems, marbles, gold and other metals, sulphurs, salts, dyes and colors,
oils, bitumen and countless other things." The invention of gunpowder
has sometimes been attributed to Bacon, probably incorrectly; but he
mentions some explosive as already in common use in children's toy
caps and torpedoes.

We have already seen that there was a good deal of scepticism about
the transmutation of metals in the thirteenth century. The consensus
of learned opinion was that most alchemists produced a mere appearance
of gold which would not stand severe tests. However, it was believed
that by reducing the metals to their constituent elements or to first
matter one might then combine them anew into gold. The difficulty, of
course, was in not realizing that the metals themselves were elements.

Astrology was another medieval study which, like alchemy, was
partly scientific and partly superstitious. No clear distinction in mean-
ing was observed between the words astronomy and astrology. Either
one was used to include both knowledge of the movements of the heavenly
bodies and prediction of the future from them. Indeed, it was largely
due to this sensational and superstitious side of the subject that sober
astronomical observations made so much progress in both antiquity and
the middle ages. Astronomy in those days was the most advanced of
any natural science, although the Copernican theory and the telescope
were as yet in the future. Astronomy was classed as the chief of the
liberal arts ; numerous treatises concerning the heavens were composed ;
Ptolemy's out-of-date astronomical tables were replaced by those of King
Alfonso the Wise of Spain ; Eoger Bacon pointed out the need of reform-
ing the calendar which Pope Gregory accomplished centuries later; in
1344 an archbishop of Canterbury was the first to expound the correct
theory of polygonal stars.

Moreover, astrology, like alchemy, became more scientific in the
thirteenth century than before, and it supplied what may almost be
called the fundamental scientific hypothesis of that period. The middle
ages no longer regarded the planets as gods ; and they did not so much
emphasize the notion that the fate of this or that man can be predicted
from the constellations, as they did insist that the whole world of nature
on our globe was controlled by the orderly, unceasing and unchanging
revolutions of the heavenly bodies. All generation and corruption in

NATURAL SCIENCE IN TEE MIDDLE AGES 285

organic life was supposed to be so controlled, and even inorganic matter
was thought to receive impressions from the stars. Even the members
of the human body were parceled out under the control of the different
planets and signs of the zodiac. How far one thought human fate
under the stars simply depended on how far one attributed human
action to appetite and environment, rather than to reason, will and
divine interference. In any case, astronomy and astrology must be
reckoned with in botany, zoology, mineralogy and medicine ; and became
the supreme science, the one underlying the rest.

Furthermore, astrology was no easy art, but had a very complicated
technique as well as an enormous scope. The pursuit of this intricate
superstition must, like the disputations and carefully analyzed argu-
ments of the scholastics, have exercised a beneficial effect upon the
muscles of the human mind. It has always been a matter of some
wonder to me that, even after astrology was proved to be false, its
former devotees did not continue to urge the study of this outworn sub-
ject on the ground that it would provide good mental discipline.

Medieval medicine was connected with natural science, and some-
times with astrology; but there is not time to speak of it now except to
say that there were several schools or university faculties of medicine,
that numerous medical treatises have come down to us, and that, while
in the main medicine was still controlled by the theories and authority
of Galen, there seems to have been some progress. Surgery received a
new impulse in Italy in the thirteenth century, though the epoch-making
discoveries of Vesalius and Harvey were still far in the future.

We have seen that Aristotle was not the sole authority of medieval
science; I wish now to emphasize that it did not rely solely upon
authorities, no matter how numerous. We have already heard Adelard
prefer reason to mere authority, but besides reason medieval students
of nature recognized observation and experience as criteria of truth.
Albertus Magnus, for instance, in the later books of his work on animals,
often says, " I have tested this," or " My associates and I have experi-
enced this," or "I have proved this is not so," or " But I have not expe-
rienced that." When discussing whales, he " passes over the writings of
antiquity on this topic because they do not agree with experience," and
gives his own personal observations instead. Often, indeed, he questions
the reliability of former writers, drawing a sharp line between those who
state what they themselves have seen or experienced and those who
appear to repeat rumor or folk-lore. He will not accept everything that
Pliny the Elder says in his " Natural History," and he is particularly
chary of accepting the assertions of Solinus and Jorach, assuring his
readers that

those philosophers tell many lies and I think that this is one of their lies.
In his treatise on plants, too, which has been called the chief work

286 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

in botany between Theophrastus and Gesner, Albert limits himself to
"those plants better known among us." Of some of these he has per-
sonal knowledge, for others he cites those writers

who are not too ready to state anything unless it is proved by experience. For
in such matters experience alone gives sure information.

Again in his " Physics " Albert states that

a conclusion contrary to the senses is incredible; and a principle which does not
agree with experimental knowledge acquired by the senses is no principle but
quite the opposite.

Indeed, medieval men not merely trusted in observation and experi-
ence; they experimented. The inventions which we have mentioned
involved experimentation. The efforts of the alchemists involved experi-
mentation. We have heard Peter of Spain contrast "ancient philos-
ophers" with "modern experimenters." Eoger Bacon has been given
undue credit for his discussion of " experimental science," and has been
lauded as the first prophet of modern science in the wilderness of
scholasticism. But his views seem to have really been the common prop-
erty of his age, as I have shown more fully in an article upon " Eoger
Bacon and Experimental Method in the Middle Ages," which appeared
in The Philosophical Review (May, 1914).

So far we have considered the serious side of medieval science and
the progress which was then being made, slight indeed compared with
the rapid strides of science in our own time, but well worth the notice
of any one interested in science's first steps. But it would be unfair to
stop there; if we disclose medieval science's merits, we must also draw
forth its frailties and lay bare the superstition, the absurdities, the
credulity which characterized the study of nature then. Fortunately
this side of medieval science is as amusing as the other was serious.

The credulity of medieval men is something astounding. Eoger
Bacon and Albertus Magnus are both sceptical at times. Then again
they simply amaze one by their incomprehensible gullibility. For in-
stance, Bacon classifies the prophetic writings of Merlin among " reli-
able authorities"; he tells of a woman of Norwich who lived without
food for twenty years, "as the bishop proved by a trustworthy exami-
nation"; he says that "papal letters attest" that a German captured
by the Saracens received a medicine which prolonged his life to 500
years. He has " learned without deceit or doubt from men of proved
faith " that " good flying dragons " still exist in Christian Europe, and
that eating their flesh will prolong life and develop the mind to a high
degree. Moreover, some of these assertions occur in the very midst of his
discussion of experimental science. Albert is somewhat less credulous
on the theme of dragons and suggests that meteors or flaming vapors
may have been mistaken for flying dragons breathing fire. But Albert
falls a victim to a sea-serpent yarn, having "heard from trustworthy

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 287

persons " that a serpent with the virgin countenance of a beardless man
was recently killed in an island of Germany. Another "trustworthy
person" told him that he saw in an eagle's nest 500 ducks, over 100
geese, about 40 hares, and many large fish, which were all required to
satisfy the hunger of the young eaglets.

Besides miscellaneous instances of credulity, and the errors of
alchemy and astrology already mentioned, we find medieval books on
nature full of marvelous and fantastic properties attributed to plants,
stones, birds and beasts. Especially wonderful powers are attributed to
gems. A French Bishop Marbod in his book on stones tells us that the
sapphire nourishes the body and preserves the limbs intact. One who
carries it can not be injured by fraud or envy, and is impervious to fear.
It sets prisoners free; and is even represented as placating God and
rendering him favorable to prayers. It makes peace between foes. By
means of it the future can be predicted. It cools one off and checks
perspiration. Applied in a pulverized state with milk, it heals ulcers,
cleans the eyes, cures headache and ills of the tongue.

But plants, too, as well as gems, have remarkable powers. The Ger-
man abbess Hildegard, in her work on " The Subtleties of Diverse Crea-
tures," mentions certain plants which fish eat, and which, if a man
could procure and eat, would enable him to go without food for four
or five months. Adam used to eat them now and then, after he had
been cast out of Eden, but not when he could get other food, since they
make one's flesh tough. As for the strange virtues possessed by birds,
Hildegard tells us that mistiness is marvelously removed from the
eyes by catching a nightingale before daybreak, adding a single drop
of dew found on clean grass to the bird's gall; and anointing the eye-
brows and lashes frequently with the mixture.

Hildegard's chapters on quadrupeds are delightfully quaint. The
camel is peculiar in that its different humps possess different virtues.
The hump next its neck has the virtues of the lion, the second of the
leopard, the third of the horse. Unicorns can never be caught except
by means of girls, for they flee from men, but stop to gase diligently at
girls, because they marvel that they have human forms, yet no beards.
"And," adds Hildegard,

if there are two or three girls together, the unicorn marvels so much the more
and is the more easily captured while its eyes are fixed upon them.

When a weasel is sick, another weasel digs up a certain herb and
breathes on it for the space of an hour and then brings it to the sick
weasel who is cured thereby. This herb is unknown to other animals
and to men, and it would do them no good if they did know of it,
since its own virtue is not efficacious, nor would their breathing upon it
make it so. But the heart of a weasel, dried and placed with wax in
the ear, benefits deafness or headache. A fine cure for epilepsy is to

288 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

put a mouse in a dish of water and then give this water to the patient
to drink, not to mention washing his forehead and feet in it. As with
drinking Postum instead of coffee, " There is a reason." It is this,

Inasmuch as the mouse runs away from everything, therefore it drives away
the falling disease.

Marbod and Hildegard were twelfth-century writers, and some-
what nai've and undiscriminating in their acceptance of marvels. The
thirteenth-century encyclopedias and works on medicine do not contain
so much chaff in proportion to their wheat; but they still contain a
great deal. Even Eoger Bacon, who declared false and disproved by
experiment several such notions as that only goat's blood can break
adamant and that hot water freezes faster than cold, — even Bacon still
speaks of the "almost miraculous" powers of "herbs and stones and
metals." However, the writers come to recognize that there is some-
thing peculiar and requiring explanation in these strange properties
ascribed to the things of nature. In the thirteenth century they are
distinguished as occult virtues and are regarded as marvelous. It is
admitted that reason can not account for them, but their existence is
declared to be attested by experience.

Thus Albertus Magnus admits that it is difficult to explain the
strange virtues of gems, and says that many students of nature seem to
doubt whether stones possess any such attributes as to cure ulcers,
counteract magic potions, conciliate human hearts, and win battles.
But he insists that these occult virtues are well-established facts, and
gives two examples attested by his own experience, namely, the mag-
net's power to attract iron and a sapphire which he saw cure ulcers.
Some plants, too, Albert declares, have "divine effects which students
of magic especially investigate."

On the other hand, Vincent of Beauvais, while he still agrees with
Marbod that the virtues of gems are so marvellous that they can be ac-
counted for only as the result of direct divine influence, thinks that
plants possess only natural powers, which are chiefly medicinal. Nor
does either Albert or Vincent usually recommend fantastic or irrelevant
methods of using herbs medicinally. Many, however, of the medicinal
virtues which they ascribe to plants are probably false, and they also
show a tendency to make each plant a panacea for a long list of very
miscellaneous and unrelated diseases. This may be illustrated by a
passage taken quite at random and which happens to be about the nas-
turtium :

It is acid and hot and dry. It is a gentle purgative and laxative, and
dries up the gases of an empty stomach. Used as a potion or liniment, it keeps
one's hair from falling out. It is beneficial for abscesses and carbuncles, if
taken with salt and water. ... It is good for softening of the muscles, puri-

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES 289

fies the lungs, helps asthma, heats stomach and liver, cures enlargement of the
spleen,

and so forth.

To animals amusing habits and human characteristics as well as
occult virtues were sometimes ascribed by the encyclopedists. Thus
in describing the lion Albert devotes half his space to the noble and
genial personality of the king of beasts, and to discrediting scientific
scandal about the wiles of the lioness to conceal her amours with the
leopard. Then we come to marvelous virtues. A man anointed with
lion's fat puts every animal to flight. A diet of lion's flesh is good for
paralytics. Garments wrapped in a lion's skin are secure from moths.
If the skin of a wolf is left near the skin of a lion, the hair soon falls
out from the wolf-skin. The tooth of a lion, suspended around a boy's
neck before he loses his first teeth, protects him from toothache when
the second teeth appear. Lion's fat should be used in unguents to re-
move blotches from the skin. Cancer may be cured by an application
of lion's blood. Drinking some of a lion's gall cures jaundice. Eat-
ing its brain is a cure for madness.

If the encyclopedists attribute marvelous medicinal virtues to in-
dividual things, the medical treatises proper prefer elaborate concoc-
tions. Sometimes the ingredients of these formidable mixtures might
excite no surprise if administered separately, but the multiplicity and
diversity of their combination seems strange indeed. Sometimes the
recipes are utterly fantastic. Bernard Gordon assures us that for cure
of eye-troubles " God even to these times has never vouchsafed to reveal
a better remedy" than a combination in varying amounts of mountain
willow, majoram, eufragia, celidonia, fennel, ginger, spikenard, pepper,
gariofil, thucia, Persian gum, ass's milk, aloes wood, the gall of an
eagle, a hawk and a mountain goat, balsam and honey. Of these in-
gredients

those that need pulverizing are to be pulverized; those that ought to be shaken
well are to be well shaken ; those that should be reduced to liquid form are to be
liquefied. Then, if it is summer time, they should for forty days be mixed in
the hot sun, and stirred daily. And if it be winter, let the mixture be prepared
with cinders, where the heat is about that of a sitting hen; and let it be stirred
and kept in a glass vessel, and dropped into the eyes; and it is of so great vir-
tue that it enables decrepitude to read small letters without eye-glasses.

Thus in the midst of a superstitious recipe we get evidence of a
scientific invention.

Even the experiments of medieval men were affected by this belief
in occult virtues, and sometimes resembled the tricks of magic more
than the scientific procedure of a modern laboratory. Roger Bacon ad-
vocates experimental science at considerable length, but he calls the
following an experiment.

VOL. LXXXVTI. 20.

29o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

A sage at Paris recently cut a snake into small sections except that the
skin of its belly on which it crawled was left intact; and that snake crawled as
best it could to a certain herb, by touching which it was instantly made whole.
Thus the performer of the experiment discovered an herb of wonderful virtue.

But Albertus Magnus has an experiment to match this. He says :

'An emerald was recently seen among us, small indeed in size but marvel-
ously beautiful. When its power was to be tested, some one suggested that if a
circle was made about the toad with the emerald and then the stone was dis-
played to the toad, one of two things would happen. Either the stone would be
broken by the gaze of the toad, if the stone was of weak virtue; or the toad
would burst, if the gem was in its full natural vigor. Things were immediately
arranged as suggested, and, after a moderate interval of time, during which
the toad kept its eye unswervingly upon the gem, the latter began to crack like
a nut and a portion of it flew from the ring. Then the toad, which hitherto
had stood immovable, began to move away, as if it had just been freed from
the power of the stone.

While medieval men still accept in large measure these far-fetched
virtues, they have a semi-scientific theory to account for them. It is
not a case of unreasoning superstition. They agree that no satisfac-
tory physical explanation of such virtues can be given, that the varying
composition of objects from the four elements is not enough to account
for such powers. Vincent thinks them due to divine influence, Hilde-
gard sometimes connects them with demons; but other writers, as
Eoger Bacon, Peter of Abano, and Thomas Aquinas, attribute them to
the influences impressed on matter by the stars. Here again we see
how important a part astrology played in medieval science.

We, however, can find an explanation which will explain both the
belief in occult virtues and the belief in astrology. They are survivals
from magic. The conception of occult virtues in particular objects is
magical. Much sympathetic magic, too, may be found stranded on the
shores of medieval science, as is seen in the reasoning why the mouse
cures epilepsy, and in the eating of lion's flesh in order to grow strong.
Furthermore, incantations, amulets, characters, astrological images, are
occasionally found in medieval science and medicine. Sometimes their
experiments seem like feats of magic.

The reason for this is that science and magic were for a long time
closely connected. As anthropologists have shown, magic plays a great
part in the life and thought of primitive peoples, and it is only grad-
ually that the science and religion of civilized peoples free themselves
from the old habits and instincts. True, it is one of the glories of
modern science that it has freed men from superstition and mental
anarchy. But science did not come down from above nor invade from
without. It grew up in the very midst of superstition and mental
anarchy, just as the states of modern Europe had their beginnings in
feudal society. As the kings in the middle ages had to govern under
feudal limitations and even by feudal means, so science for a long time

NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGE 8 291

not merely was opposed by the unscientific attitude, but was itself
tinged by fantastic theories and false data. Yet the scientific attitude,
like the spirit of nationality, was at work in the seeming chaos; grad-
ually it shook itself free from error, and, by the increasing application
of truly scientific methods, won a similar triumph to that which the
sovereign political power gained by its gradual development of govern-
mental institutions.

This was the process going on in the twelfth and thirteenth cen-
turies. When men still believed in demons and witches and divina-
tion from dreams, it is not surprising that they believed also in nat-
ural magic. Only a small part of nature's secrets were revealed to
them ; of the rest they felt that almost anything might turn out to be
true. It was a time when " one vast realm of wonder spreads around."'
They had to struggle against a huge burden of error and superstition
which Greece and Eome and the Arabs handed down to them ; yet they
must try to assimilate what was of value in Aristotle, Galen, Pliny,
Ptolemy, and the rest. Crude naive beginners they were in many re-
spects. Yet they show an interest in nature and its problems; they
are drawing the line between science and religion; they make some
progress in mathematics, geography, physics and chemistry; they not
only talk about experimental method, they actually make some in-
ventions and discoveries of use in the future advance of science.
Moreover, they themselves feel that they are making progress. They
do not hesitate to disagree with their ancient authorities, when they
know something better. Eoger Bacon affirms that many scientific facts
and truths are known in his time of which Plato and Aristotle, Hippo-
crates and Galen, were ignorant. The ancients, says Peter of Spain
in effect, were philosophers, but we are experimenters. Magic still
lingers but the march of modern science has begun.

29 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

A HISTORY OF FIJI

Br Dr. ALFRED GOLDSBOROUGH MAYER

Part III

OF all established customs in Fiji the most odious was cannibalism,
yet it was always tabu for women and the lower classes, and the
custom was extensively practised only by the chiefs and warriors. It
is possible that in Fiji it was primitively a religious rite and did not
originate in time of famine, or through motives of mere revenge. In-
stead of an animal, they sacrificed the best they had to the gods, and
as the flesh of the animal was eaten by the chiefs, so was the flesh of
man. Indeed, an old myth asserts that once there was no cannibalism
in Fiji, and even when it was most prevalent there was always a party
opposed to it, maintaining that it caused various skin diseases. At the
town of Nakelo on the Eewa river, it was tabu to eat human flesh.

We incline, however, to the belief that the Fijians were cannibals
simply because they enjoyed the taste of human flesh, for I have met
with no dissent to the opinion that of all meat it is the most palatable,
and it is evident that the custom could not have survived a decade had
mere religion prompted its continuance. The fact appears to be that,
in common with other privileges, the chiefs and priests had succeeded
in monopolizing its pleasures through the agency of the tabu, for among
savages the priesthood is quick to defer to the desires of those in power.
In prehistoric times the natives had but little animal food, apart from
the fish of the reefs and the snakes of the mountains, for pigs, ducks
and chickens were introduced only recently. When man attempts to
live upon a vegetable diet, even though it be varied by fish, an insatiate
craving for animal food comes over him, he " Kalau's," as the natives
say, and it is an interesting fact that cannibalism is almost unknown
among peoples whose meat-supply has always been abundant and varied.
Once it be acquired, this longing for human flesh remains a tempta-
tion haunting its possessor. Well does one remember the vim of a
wild Marquesan dance. It was near midnight and the flickering glare
of the bonfire cut into the blackness of the surrounding forest. An
old chief, standing by the embers, led the chant, while his tribesmen,
with hands joined, danced furiously around him. Translated into Eng-
lish, the burden of their song was "I have eaten your father, your
mother, your brother, now I intend to eat you ! whoo ! ! hack ! ! ! " — in
a bestial shriek that rang back in echoes from the cliffs. Then, one by
one, at unexpected times and from unforeseen recesses, the maidens of
the tribe emerged from the dark aisles among the trees; their graceful
bodies glistening where the fire-light glinted upon the cocoanut oil that

A HISTORY OF FIJI 293

covered their shapely limbs. Gay flowers stood out among the riot of
their flowing locks, and like elfin things they flitted with tremulous
arms outstretched until they stood fully revealed in the red glare, only
to flutter silently backward and vanish. In days gone by that dark-
ness concealed from view a gruesome meal.

Basil Thomson points out the fact that in Fiji the practise in-
creased greatly just before the coming of white men, as had that of
human sacrifice among the Aztecs a few years before the arrival of
Cortez. With the sudden increase in the power of the great chiefs, it
began to lose its religious significance and an acknowledged appetite
for cannibal meat was boastfully proclaimed. Thus Tanoa, Ea TTndre-
undre, Tui Kilakila, and others were cannibals because they enjoyed
the taste of man, but not all Fijians liked human flesh, even as terrapin
is not enjoyed by all white men.

The most hideous features of cannibalism were the fiendish tortures,
Vaka-totogana, connected with it wherein the victims were gradually
dismembered and their noses, tongues, arms, or legs cooked and eaten
before their eyes, pieces of their own flesh being offered to them in
derision. Even if the missionaries had accomplished nothing else, their
success in abolishing cannibalism would have sanctified their labors.
Let nothing blind us to an appreciation of the undaunted courage and
unexcelled devotion to their faith displayed by these unselfish men and
women, who, actuated by high and simple motives, left homes and
friends, and labored cheerfully through long years over the seemingly
hopeless task of bringing the light of a happier day to the barbarians
of Fiji.

People who had died a natural death were rarely or never eaten,
and only those killed in battle, captured, or wrecked "with salt water
in their eyes," were offered to the gods and roasted. The dead, if killed
in battle and buried, they would disinter even after the tenth day when
the body could not be lifted entire from the grave and was therefore
torn apart and made into puddings. Every one agrees that decomposi-
tion did not deter their appetite for human flesh, any more than it
impairs our own taste for game, yet all other meat was discarded by
the Fijians as by us upon the least indication of dissolution.

Among old Fijian chiefs whom I knew between 1897-1899, none
expressed the slightest abhorrence of cannibalism, and some were frank
enough to state that were European influences removed they would at
once renew the practise. To the Fijian no revenge is assuaged until
you have eaten your enemy, but the deepest contempt for a fallen foe
was indicated by roasting and then refusing to devour the body.

One of the best descriptions of a cannibal feast is that given by
Jackson in Erskine's voyage published in 1853; and the Eev. Thomas
Williams1 in his work upon "Fiji and the Fijians" describes the rites
in detail, having often observed them.

2 94 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The canoes when approaching the shore would indicate that human
prey was on board by striking the water at intervals with a pole. See-
ing the splashes, the natives gathered in a howling mob along the shore,
the women breaking into a wild, lascivious dance. The victims were
seized by the arms and dragged to the temple, their captors chanting
the cannibal song:

Yari au malua. Yari au malua.
Drag me gently. Drag me gently.

Oi au na saro ni nomu vanua.

For I am the champion of thy land.
Yi mudokia! Yi mudokia! Yi mudokia!
Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!

Ki Dama le!
Yi! u-woa-ai-a!

Sharp-edged strips of bamboo served as knives for the butcher, and
after being roasted or steamed, the flesh was eaten by means of a wooden
fork, each high chief having one of these which it was tabu for any one
but himself to touch.

Cannibalism was dreaded by the lower classes for they were for-
bidden to participate in the feasts, and were themselves most frequently
the victims of these orgies. Thus when the missionaries succeeded in
developing even in a rudimentary form the force of "public opinion"
the practice was suppressed far more easily than had been anticipated,
for it was a rite maintained by the aristocracy and the priests and had
become a terrible engine of despotism.

Another institution which appears to have been practised from time
immemorial in Fiji was polygamy. The great majority of Fijians were
not polygamous, however, for only the highest chiefs could afford to
maintain more than one wife, and even those of most exalted rank
rarely had more than ten wives. There is reason to suppose that the
number of women has always been less than that of men in Fiji, owing
to the greater care devoted to the rearing of warriors.

A man of the middle classes rarely married before the age of
twenty-five, at which time his mother chose a wife from among the
daughters of his maternal uncle (his orthogamous cousins, veidavolani).
One quarter of all Fijian marriages are still of this character, and they
produce healthy offspring.

Men of the lowest class frequently remained bachelors throughout
life, and all unmarried females of the peasantry were disposed of by
the chief of the tribe. In Mbau this match-making chief was next in
rank to the vunivalu, Thakombau. It is evident that Basil Thomson is
right when he says that the abandonment of polygamy could have had
no serious influence upon the vitality of the race, for it affected too few.

i Williams was by far the most assiduous and accurate observer of Fijian
customs, and it is to be regretted that his manuscript was edited and "re-
pressed" by a Mr. Eowe of London who had never visited Fiji.

A HISTORY OF FIJI 295

It is a common mistake to assume that social anarchy is the rule in
primitive communities ; for the reverse is true, and savage races are the
ones par excellence most dominated by established forms, their system
of life remaining unchanged for generation after generation. This is
illustrated most clearly in an interesting paper by Lord Amherst of
Hackney and Basil Thomson published by the Hakluyt Society of
London in 1901, which shows that, since their discovery in 1568, the
customs of the Solomon islanders have remained absolutely unaltered,
until crushed under the rule of white men.

Among these fixed customs of savage tribes, some are actually better
than our own. Thus in Fiji prostitution was checked as effectively as
any mere system could prevent it. This was accomplished by obliging
all the unmarried men to sleep each night in a special house, the
Mbure-ni-sa, or men's house, while the virgins were kept at home with
their parents.

Indeed, the use of the Mbure-ni-sa was even extended, under cer-
tain conditions, to the married men. There were no milk-producing
animals in Fiji, and the food of the natives is still so deficient in animal
proteids that it can hardly afford sufficient nourishment for healthy
growth until the child is nearly four years old. Accordingly, when a
child was born, husband and wife separated; she going to live for a
year with her mother's relatives, and he to sleep for the following
two or three years in the Mbure with the unmarried men. Thus
throughout the suckling period the risk of a new conception was avoided,
and the full strength of the mother was preserved to nourish her infant.

Unhappily, the Europeans saw fit to break up this system, main-
taining that it interfered with family life and was destructive of mutual
affection. The tabu having thus been abolished, conceptions often
occur within a year following the birth of a child, and the mother's
milk is rendered inefficient as a means of nourishment, while at the
same time the drain upon her strength is so great that the unborn child
may not properly develop. Thus the new system has increased the
birth-rate, but at the same time produces weak, sickly infants whose
death-rate is far greater than in former times. This indeed is one of
the most potent causes of the decrease of the Fijian population, espe-
cially as the married women now attempt to escape the strain of these
exhausting pregnancies by resorting to abortion, a practise which has
increased in recent years to the serious impairment of the vitality of
the race.

Moreover, the abolition of the Mbure-ni-sa has brought about a too
sudden and promiscuous commingling of the young men and women,
and the commission appointed by the British government to inquire
into the causes which are producing the decline of the Fijian population
has decided that sexual depravity has increased since the abandon-

296 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ment of heathenism, for licentiousness formerly kept down by the
chief's club is now merely forbidden.

Seeman states that the natives were shocked when he told them that
English women frequently bore children at intervals of a year apart,
and upon reflection they decided this accounted for there being so many
"shrimps" (small men) among Europeans.

In common with some other primitive races, the Fijians looked
frankly upon those problems of sexual relations which we attempt to
ignore or to cloak under a mantle of secrecy, too often pernicious to
the welfare of our race. The average European is too apt to be horri-
fied when he hears a spade called by its simplest name, and to his mind
morality implies an unnatural hypocrisy respecting the physiological
facts of life. He forgets that acts and words are in themselves inno-
cent unless their intention be otherwise, and in many matters of this
sort the missionary has unfortunately made cowards and liars of his
converts, and it is undoubtedly true that the influence of civilization in
the Pacific has tended to increase rather than diminish all forms of
clandestine sexual depravity.

I have heard competent and unprejudiced observers state that the
Fijians were fully as affectionate in heathen times as at present. Fam-
ily affection fortunately springs from nature itself and is not a product
of our system of life, however cultured or barbarous. One sees the
naked women of Australia, whose bodies are covered with self-inflicted
scars, gaze rapturously upon their children and exhibit maternal love
as truly as could any European mother, and even Wilkes, who refers to
the Fijians as " the most barbarous and savage race now existing upon
the globe," states that he saw " engaged couples walking affectionately
arm-in-arm as with us."

One of the saddest, because the most apparent change that has af-
fected the lives of the Pacific islanders is the needless decay of their
arts. War, and the ceremonies and obligations of religion once pro-
vided the major motive for the maintenance and development of varied
crafts. In fact, the intent of practically every piece of decorative work
was either to propitiate the gods and tribal spirits, or to frighten a
real or imaginary enemy. Nor is this peculiar to savage tribes, for all
the complex ornaments which adorn the yokes of horses in Naples are
" evil eye " charms which have come down almost unaltered from Roman
times.

The missionary soon saw that most of his so-called converts had
only added the white man's god to those of their ancestors. In order,
therefore, to obliterate old beliefs, he discouraged the making -of all
"symbols of heathenism," and, as these were displayed in almost every
implement, art fell at once under the awe-inspiring ban of his dis-
pleasure.

Yet the decline of native art was to some degree inevitable even if

A HISTORY OF FIJI 297

the missionaries had attempted to foster and preserve it, for it perished
chiefly because of its inadaptability, and the absence of a market for its
wares. The cheapest calico is softer and more enduring than the best
of tapa, the coarsest canvas sail is superior to that woven of pandanus
leaves, the beautiful adze of polished stone fails wholly when placed in
competition with even the "trade hatchet."

Yet in each group there was at least some native art which, had it
been cared for by the whites, might have been preserved so that in a
more or less modified form it might have furnished a permanent and
progressively important means of livelihood to the natives, and thus
have become a means of maintaining their racial entity and self-respect.

Art was the highest expression of their intellectual life, an absorb-
ing field for their ambition, a means of gratifying their instinct for
the beautiful, and a record of their history and their conception of the
universe. It meant far more to them than it does to us with our
widely varied interests, and to this the European was blind when he
permitted its destruction.

All over the south seas in proportion as white men have become dom-
inant native arts have withered. Once the canoe was built of separate
pieces skilfully calked and lashed together, and its outrigger was a
marvel of flexibility and strength. Yet everywhere it degenerates into
a crudely hollowed log, crossed by two rough sticks to which the out-
rigger is rigidly tied. The house, once shapely in form and carefully
thatched, degenerates into a mere shack, and every carved bowl, paddle
and implement becomes rude, ugly and misshapen. All care in manu-
facture degenerates, and in proportion does the light of their intellec-
tual life fade out. A hopeless apathy, a listless lack of interest in all
around them overcomes their dulled minds and their lives, like those of
prisoners, are no longer worth the while of living, for hope can not
flower within the stifle of the cold gray walls of bigotry's bastile.

Pleasures and sports suffer as do the arts. The surf-board riders
of Hawaii are now rarely seen, dances and songs are being constantly
suppressed, and many happy things that once filled their minds with
joy, and were beautiful in their eyes, have vanished never to be theirs
again. But one resource is left to their idle minds, and clandestine
immorality saps their strength. As the Government Commission in
Fiji reports

premature civilization, mental apathy and lack of ambition under the new con-
ditions are among the most important causes of the decline of the population.

This carefully selected commission was appointed by the British
government in Fiji to inquire into the causes of the decrease in the
native population, and after long investigation the conclusions of the
commissioners were published by the Colony in 189 6. 2 It is probable

2 Eeport of the Commission appointed to inquire into the causes of the de-

298

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

that in 1859 there were about 200,000 natives ; in 1868, 170,000 ; in 1871,
140,000; in 1881 there were 114,700 and in 1891, 105,800 while in

Illustrating the Decline in the Native Population of the Fiji Islands from

1859 to 1911.

1901 the population had still further declined to 94,400, and the males
outnumbered the females in the proportion of 8 to 7. In 1911 there
were but 87,096 natives, and if the decline continues at its present
rate the last Fijian must die before another century has passed.3

The commission decides that children have ceased to be useful, and
whereas in old days they strengthened the tribe in war, they now suffer
neglect. The birth rate is higher than that of England yet only 11/20
of the children survive to be one year old.4 Another cause is said to be
the general want of vitality due to the effects of past epidemics, such
as the "wasting sickness" in 1797, the dysentery of 1803 and the
measles of 1875. One is, however, inclined to believe that no permanent
evil effects could be produced as a result of these physiological disasters.
~±so matter how severe the epidemic, those who are physically the best
are the most apt to survive and become the progenitors of successive
generations, and thus the race might even be improved through natural
selection. There is no evidence tending to prove that the black death

cline of the native population. Published by the Colony of Fiji, Suva, 1896,
pp. v + 130.

3 Should the natives continue to decline at the rate which has pertained
since 1881 they must become extinct in the year 2004.

* Within recent years the medical department under the able leadership of
Doctor G. W. A. Lynch has been enabled to take measures which appear to have
reduced this infant mortality so that nearly 78 per cent, of the children survive
the first year.

A HISTORY OF FIJI 299

of the fourteenth century or the plague in London in the time of
Charles II. resulted in any permanent physical deterioration of the
races they affected. The Fijians may be a vanishing people, but in
physical appearance they remain superior as of old, and their superb
stature and mental attainments appear not to have declined even though
the race as a whole be dying.

There is, however, one cardinal evil in the Fijian situation and that
is the severe strain of child-raising which falls upon the women in a
country wherein the proper food for the maintenance of lactation has
not yet been produced in sufficient quantity. The children, being
thus in a peculiar sense dependent upon their mothers, will be pro-
foundly affected by any conditions which produce injury to the women
of the tribe.

Yaws, dysentery and whooping cough are now primary causes of
the decline of population. Among minor causes the committee men-
tions the abolition of polygamy; for under monogamy the mother must
not only tend her child, but gather the food and cultivate the soil,
whereas in polygamous days these latter duties were taken over by the
other wives during the early period of the infant's life.

The report makes it clear that the decline is due chiefly to the high
death rate of children, and also that we must proceed very slowly and sym-
pathetically, using as little force as possible, in the introduction of civili-
zation. The old socialism must gradually be replaced by a certain
measure of individualism, and the warrior's ambitions must give place
to those of the craftsman. Hygiene as a subject of primary importance
must be taught not only in the schools, but chiefly by example, upon
the plan of the college settlement, by teachers living in so far as pos-
sible as the natives themselves now live, thus slowly changing the
habits of life of those around them, and indeed these teachers should
themselves be natives of the most enlightened type, and maintained in
government employ.

A most interesting sociological experiment has been conducted by
the British in their government of the Fijians. It is one of the very
few instances wherein altruism is the key-note in the rule of the strong
over the weak, and its maintenance through all these years in the face
of much discouragement and expense is an honor to Great Britain, in
the pride of which all the world may share — it is a rare triumph of
idealism over selfishness.

As Mr. Allardyce, then colonial secretary, said to me :

We came here not as conquerors but through invitation, and the best we
have to give is none too good for these people who have entrusted their destiny
to our care.

Indeed, if the South Sea Islanders are now to be saved new interests
and new arts must be developed by them, and new ambitions other than
the withered remnants of the old must be created. Industrial schools

3oo TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

are sadly needed in the Pacific, and the dawn of the first real progress
will appear when men like Booker Washington arise among the natives
of Fiji. The establishment of non-sectarian manual training schools
such as his, in so far as possible under native teachers and supported by
native efforts, might soon revolutionize their whole system of life, and
change them from well-behaved captives into purposeful men and
women.

The missionaries now conduct nearly all the schools in Fiji, and it
is much to their credit that illiteracy is almost as rare as in Germany,
all the present generation being able to read and write their own lan-
guage. These schools are fundamentally good, but the natives should
be taught not only how to pray, but also how to labor and to live. The
missionaries would doubtless welcome an opportunity to extend the
scope of native education, but the expense of establishing trade schools
is too great for their resources and the project demands government
aid. That the return to the state would ultimately far more than
repay the outlay can not be doubted, for even the non-altruistic Dutch
well know the profit accruing to Java and hence to themselves through
the establishment of agricultural schools for natives.

Every indication of an initiative among the Fijians in the direc-
tion of craft-development should be wisely encouraged instead of being,
as at present, smothered under the cloak of a paternalism that oblit-
erates error only by crushing endeavor.

It may be confidently hoped that the British government which has
labored so persistently and at such constant expense to develop Fiji
"for the Fijians" and not for the surfeit of those who would selfishly
exploit the natives, will take this final step and render it possible for
the natives to raise themselves to a position of self-dependence. This
was, indeed, the confessed intention of certain high officials of the col-
ony whom I enjoyed the pleasure of meeting when in Fiji. So con-
sistent have the English been in their effort actually to civilize and ele-
vate the Fijians that their policy has been pursued for years despite
financial loss and the frequent protests of the whites, as is evidenced
by the steady decline of the white population from 2,750 in 1871 to
2,036 in 1891, since which time it has slowly risen, becoming 3,707 in
1911. The public debt in 1910 was £104,115 and the native taxes
amounted only to about £16,000, the principal source of revenue be-
ing derived from customs receipts which were £129,552, the latter be-
ing, of course, an indirect tax upon the colony itself.

Since 1874, settlers have been discouraged from employing Fijians
upon their plantations, for the native population was rapidly being en-
slaved by the whites. In order to supply the necessary labor, Hindoo
coolies from Calcutta were imported, but it seems unfortunate that
these usually remained in Fiji after the expiration of their terms of
service and there are now 40,300 in the group. They are a clannish,

A HISTORY OF FIJI 3°*

industrious, bigoted race whom the Fijians despise and with whom they
do not mingle. Indeed, there are far more half-breds between the
whites and Fijians than between Fijians and Hindoos.

Although all native arts have suffered and some have wholly dis-
appeared in Fiji, the introduction of European methods has been slower
in this group than elsewhere in the Pacific. Spears and clubs and
other implements of war are no longer made unless, indeed, it be to sell
to tourists, and the dancing masks and wigs of former days have dis-
appeared, along with the cannibal forks. Once the natives took great
pride in their war-clubs, and a man's rank was indicated by the fashion
of his club and his manner of carrying it, only chiefs being permitted
to bear it over the shoulder as we would a gun. The handle was
notched whenever the club had served to kill a man, and such a weapon
was called a " ngandro " to distinguish it from common clubs. Indeed
the more famous clubs were given individual names, a certain chief be-
ing the proud possessor of one called " the giver of rest." Elaborately
carved, and built up, spears of iron-wood ten or fifteen feet long were
common, and were sometimes tipped with the spine of the sting-ray,
which upon breaking within the wound caused certain death. In the
distant villages among the mountains of the large islands, spears and
clubs were still to be seen in the houses in 1899, but from more acces-
sible places they have long since disappeared to crowd the shelves of
our museums. Everywhere the natives of the coasts have yielded, and
more or less conformed to the white man's customs, but only a few
miles inland, isolated by the dense forests or walled in by mountains,
they were in 1900 almost as in heathen times. Yet even in these re-
mote places the natives are not wholly separated from the world, for
news is carried rapidly by word of mouth, and Wilkes speaks of a case
in which a message was transmitted 20 miles through a forested country
in less than six hours.

The pursuit of war was once the chief concern of the Fijians, and
was often conducted in a very ceremonious fashion. An offended chief
thrust sticks into the ground) and removed them only when appeased.
If war was determined upon a herald was sent to the village of the
enemy to announce the fact. As is universal with primitive people,
the mustering of the army was the occasion for much extravagant
boasting, and their faces were painted red or half red and half black.
Miss Gordon Cumming gives a striking description of the wild war-
dance and the boasts of the warriors who assembled at the call of Sir
Arthur Gordon to take part in the war against the cannibal tribes of the
Singatoka Eiver in the mountains. "This is only a musket" cried
one warrior "but I carry it." By contrast the men from Mbau came
up in stately fashion, their spokesman saying "This is Mbau, that is
enough."

The towns were often fortified with wooden stockades or stone

302 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

walls, and were sometimes surrounded by moats. There are no records
of protracted sieges, for the attacking party never could carry sufficient
food to enable them to remain long before the walls of the besieged.
They depended almost wholly upon treachery, ambushes or sudden
and unexpected assaults; and to kill a woman or a child or even a pig
was considered a creditable feat, as when Thakombau's warriors re-
turned to Mbau boasting, "We have killed seven of the enemy's pigs
and two women." Before the introduction of firearms, it is probable
that native warfare caused but little loss of life, for fear kept the com-
batants skulking at a fairly safe distance from one another.

Wilkes, who himself made war upon the natives of Malolo after
they had killed Lieutenant Underwood and Midshipman Henry, de-
scribes their martial customs at great length and should be read by
those interested in the matter.

The cruelties practised when a town was overcome were unspeak-
able, and on the island of Wakaia the chief and all within his village
threw themselves over a high cliff to be dashed to death rather than
surrender.

Fijian warfare, like that of cannibalism, is indeed a sordid subject.
Not a single struggle waged by any tribe was for the establishment of a
worthy principle. Lust for murder, the capture of women, revenge
for real, or more often imaginary, insults were the actuating motives
of all native wars. There is in the language no word expressing dis-
approbation for the killing of a human being. Indeed, no matter how
brutal, treacherous or cowardly the murder of man, woman or child
the murderer immediately gained the proud title of koroi, which in-
sured to him a good position among the spirits of the world to come,
and permitted him to blacken his face and chest with a peculiar war-
paint. Murder was thus an open sesame to social distinction and re-
ligious well-being.

The Fijians are courageous in the sense that all men are brave
when wrought up to the point of action, and when facing a situation
they understand. Their first sight of a horse, however, drove even
the doughtiest warriors to take refuge in the trees, and when upon a
dark night Wilkes came to anchor off the coast and set off rockets, the
silence of the shore broke into a long shriek of terror, village after
village catching the contagion of the fright. Even to-day the white
man inspires a mysterious lurking fear, and in the mountain villages
and in parts rarely visited by Europeans, the women and little children
shrink and run at your approach, and even the men seem somewhat
" stage struck." To their minds we must be past masters of witchcraft.

Indeed, in common with all beliefs and practises which may be
securely hidden from the eyes of Europeans, witchcraft still survives
in Fiji, as it does among the lower classes of Europe and America. The
natives are fond of the "occult" and several miracles are still per-

A HISTORY OF FIJI 303

formed. Thus at the village of ISTandawa, on Koro island, an old man
stands upon a high rock and calls to the sea-turtles, shouting in Fijian,
Come ! Come ! We are tired of waiting ! upon which several turtles
appear swimming toward the shore. It is highly probable that these
are regularly fed and are thus always ready for the "miracle" when
strangers visit the town. Koro, by the way, is the island to which the
souls of all dead pigs were supposed to go to their valhalla.

At the village of Eukua on Mbenga a curious miracle play is en-
acted. Near the town there is a circular pit about twenty feet in
diameter, the bottom of which is lined with brown-colored volcanic
stones, a ring of large flat ones lying near the edge around the bottom
of the depression. The pit is filled with dry sticks and a fire is main-
tained until the stones are red hot. Then the embers are brushed
away, and out of the forest there comes a procession of young men gaily
adorned with garlands of flowers and well polished with cocoanut oil.
They chant as they tread slowly and deliberately over the hot stones, and
then vanish into the woods, apparently uninjured; upon which pigs
and vegetables are placed upon the stones and are covered with leaves
and earth, and a thoroughly cooked feast is soon ready for both guests
and performers. Professor Langley witnessed a similar exhibition in
the Society Islands, and discovered that the radiation from the surface
of the volcanic stones is very great, while the stones themselves are poor
conductors of heat, thus the surface soon cools while enough heat still
remains within to serve in cooking the feast. The natives can not be
induced to walk over limestone, which is a good conductor and poor
radiator, the surface thus remaining hot. However, the great thick-
ness of the skin upon the sole of their unshod feet accounts in some
measure for their ability to perform this "miracle." In all respects
natural sole leather is superior to that provided by the " leather trust."

A pleasing art which still survives, but is doomed to extinction, is
the making and decorating of tapa, or masi, as it is called in Fiji, where
it is still used for screens in houses, and for various decorative pur-
poses. "Women alone take part in the manufacture of tapa. They care-
fully cultivate the paper mulberry {Broussonetia papyrifera) , and, when
about six feet high, the young trees are cut down, and the bark peeled
off and soaked in water. The outer skin is then scraped off with a
sharp-edged shell, and the soft fibrous inner bark is ready for beating,
although it may be kept indefinitely before this process is begun. For
beating, the strips of bark must be thoroughly water-soaked and soft,
and two are placed one over the other upon a flattened log and beaten
with a rectangular mallet, ihi, having three of its flat sides grooved and
one plane. Each pair of strips of an inch in original width may thus
be beaten out into a thin sheet of felted fibers nine inches wide, although
the length is reduced. Separate sheets are then welded together by
beating, the overlapping edges being first glued with a paste made from
arrowroot boiled in water, this welding being so cleverly done that it is

3o4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

almost impossible to tell where the pieces overlie one another. The sheet
is then spread upon the grass and exposed to the sun to bleach. These
sheets may be very large, one we measured being 160 feet long and 12
feet wide, but Williams mentions a sheet 180 yards long!

After being bleached, they produce a pattern upon the tapa with a
brown dye derived from the Aleurites triloba, the dull color of which
is relieved at intervals by large black circular spots, thus by contrast
giving a bright and effective pattern. This process of decorating is de-
scribed in detail by Thomas Williams in his most interesting work upon
" Fiji and the Fijians." Strips of bamboo are placed in the form of
the design upon a flat surface, or the design is carved in relief in a
board. Then the tapa is stretched over the template and the cloth
rubbed with the dye, whereupon the color adheres to all raised places and
fails to appear in the hollows, and a "printed" pattern is produced.
So characteristic are the checquered patterns of the tapas of the several
islands that the locality of each piece can be determined upon the most
casual inspection. The black and white tapas of Taviuni are most ef-
fective, and those of Lakemba probably the most artistic made in the
group. It seems strange that although these tapas have for ages been
printed in designs, little or no meaning was associated with the details
of the pattern. There were, however, certain appropriate patterns for
weddings and other ceremonies, and the flags of the various classes of
warriors were more or less distinctive. Thus at Eewa the banner of
the king's or high chief's party was white with four or five vertical
black stripes at one end, that of the vunivalu or general had horizontal
stripes, and that of the land owners was plain white. Yet the tapa
flags never became tribal emblems, on the one hand, or personal coats-
of-arms, on the other, but remained merely class badges, and thus no
precise symbolism was associated with the designs.

In groups other than Fiji the inner bark of the bread-fruit tree,
and of the yellow hibiscus Paritium tiliaceum are used in making tapa.
Yellow turmeric, bone charcoal, brilliant red and rich brown dyes, are
displayed upon tapas of the Pacific.

The art must surely disappear, for Manchester is now printing
calicos in the patterns of the native tapas and these are being sold to
the islanders, who prefer them to designs of their own making. In some
groups traders have brought in anilin dyes which the natives call " mis-
sionary colors," the word "missionary" being applied to almost any
newly introduced thing. Thus is an ancient and primitive art being
debased, and another means of employment must disappear from native
life. At the time of the author's visits the beating of the ikis (mallets)
was the most characteristic sound in a Fijian village, but in a few more
years this too must go the way of many another activity which once
engrossed the attention and stimulated the imagination of the natives.

Tapa in Fiji was once used for the white turbans of the chiefs and
the simple waist band or malo worn by all men. In the case of chiefs

A HISTORY OF FIJI 3° 5

the ends of the waist cloth formed long streamers, those of king Tanoa
being so long that they trailed upon the ground. When yaqona was
served, all chiefs removed their turbans, excepting only the Eoko Tui
of Mbau who was regarded as being a human personification of a god.

The women never wore tapa, but were clothed in the simple UJcu
or waist band of hibiscus bark or grasses which is still worn among
the mountain tribes, although along the coast the Europeans have
abolished both it and the malo, obliging all to wear a waist-cloth of
calico. In some respects they were a modest people before these changes
were effected, and fortunately for the natives their new rulers did not
oblige them to don more clothing. In other parts of the Pacific the
missionaries have forced the natives to wear European garments, far
too hot for tropical climates. Such clothes are so expensive that few
or none of the natives can afford to own more than one suit, and this
soon becomes a filthy menace to health. Tuberculosis stalks in when
European clothes appear, and all unprejudiced observers will agree that
the most diseased and immoral races now in the Pacific are those who
have been obliged to wear the most clothing.

Their own clothes permitted the natives to bathe freely, but the
whites now demand that the natives shall don special bathing suits or
at least enter the water clothed in some European garments. This prac-
tically forces them either to abstain from their health-giving sport of
former times or to swim fully clothed, as they now do in Hawaii. These
cold wet clothes are a cause of influenza leading to tuberculosis, and
everywhere the natives are less cleanly as Christians than they were as
heathens.

In former times the Fijians took great pride in the arrangement
of their hair, and a wide range of individual taste was permitted in this
respect, as may be seen in the illustrations given by Williams in his
" Fiji and the Fijians," or the colored plate published in the narrative of
the voyage of the Challenger. Usually they trained the hair to grow
into a huge thick mop standing out on all sides fully eight inches from
the head, and sometimes as much as 62 inches in circumference. In
order to effect this, the hair was saturated with oil mixed with charcoal
and then dyed so that blue, white, brilliant red, black or parti-colored
mops were in fashion. The high chiefs had barbers whose sole duty
was to care for the hair of their masters, and whose hands were tabu
from feeding themselves so that others had to provide them with food
and drink. Such a barber might not remove a cigarette from his
mouth or hold it in his hands and was thus obliged to twist a twig
around it in order to avoid the weed's coming in contact with his hands.
Curiously enough, barbers might work in their gardens, but were not
permitted to use their hands in eating their own vegetables. Probably
no savage race devoted more care to hair and beards than did the
Fijians. They are very rarely bald, and indeed this was considered to

VOL. LXXXVII. 21

0

o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

be a great disfigurement, and the defect was concealed by a wig. To
preserve these unwieldy mops of hair, the natives were obliged to sleep
upon a wooden pillow which was placed under the neck and held the
head four or five inches above the floor.

To the European, all customs are apt to be classed as "bad" in
proportion as they differ from those of his own race, but it should be
said that in Fiji the missionaries have been more conservative and dis-
played far more sympathy and sense in their reforms than elsewhere
in the Pacific. Nevertheless, all forms of really active exercises or keen
enjoyment have a somewhat wicked appearance to a certain type of
religious mind, and unhappily the mediocre man is the one who is
apt to rule in deciding the fate of such affairs. They too often fail to
see that when an old custom is to be abolished something should be de-
vised to take its place. Thus their vandalism of bigotry has resulted in
destroying or hindering the open practise of nearly all the old arts and
amusements; and almost nothing but hymns and prayers and a cheer-
less sabbath resembling that of Puritan days in old New England have
been given to the natives in exchange for all they have been forced to
surrender.

The Fijians once took great delight in their club dances, but these
have now been repressed and have lost much of their former anima-
tion. In one of these festivities which we witnessed the men leaped
frantically in perfect unison, branishing their clubs and throwing them
from hand to hand, often shielding their eyes with one hand as if
searching for a hidden or distant enemy. At regular intervals they
shouted Wa hoo! in a fierce yell that could have been heard at a dis-
tance of a quarter of a mile, while all the village crowded in a square
around the dancers, beating log drums, clapping hands and chanting
something which sounded like " Somo seri rangi tu Somo seri somo,"
over and over again. Often the meanings of words used in their songs
are unknown to the natives of modern times. Wilkes gives an excellent
description of a club-dance in which the best dancers were mimicked by
a clown covered from head to foot with green and dried leaves, and
wearing a mask half orange and half black.

The milder mekes (songs with gestures) are wisely encouraged by
the missionaries, and these are still a source of constant amusement to
the natives. Fiji has not yet been suppressed into a realm of sullen
silence as have too many parts of the Pacific.

There is a fascination in the elemental force of the word-pictures
in these songs. We stifle in the heavy air of the dull and ominous calm.
Then comes the rising roar of the onrush and our hearts go out to the
frail canoes struggling so bravely in a maddened sea, and the pathos
of life and death is there when the hot sun glares down once more, and
the ripples glint unheedingly around the silent floating thing over
which the sea-birds scream.

{To be continued.)

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

;°7

THE PEOGEESS OF SCIENCE

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY AND

THE POPULAE SCIENCE

MONTHLY

The Popular Science Monthly,
since its establishment in 1872 by J.
W. Youmans and the firm of D. Apple-
ton and Company, has endeavored to
perform two functions which are some-
what distinct. On the one hand, it
has aimed to popularize science, and,
on the other hand, to publish articles
reviewing scientific progress and ad-
vocating scientific, educational and so-
cial reforms. The objects are both im-
portant, but as science grows in com-
plexity it becomes increasingly difficult
to unite them in the same journal.

In the earlier years of The Popular
Science Monthly the doctrine of evo-
lution excited controversy and wide
public interest; it was possible to print
articles by men such as Darwin, Spen-
cer, Huxley and Tyndall, which were
popular and at the same time authori-
tative contributions to scientific prog-
ress. Dr. Youmans had the fervent
faith and missionary spirit which en- j
abled him to conduct a journal to which
the word "popular" was properly ap-
plied. At that time other magazines,
such as The Atlantic and Scribner's
also published articles and had depart-
ments concerned with popular science.

The last third of the nineteenth cen-
tury may properly be characterized as
the era of science, so rapid was the
progress of science and so important
the part it assumed in our civilization.
This progress not only requires spe-
cialization of work, but even makes it
difficult for the worker in one field to
understand the work accomplished in
other fields, though the barrier is per-
haps due to the terminology rather
than to the ideas. For the general
public the difficulties are greater, and [

there is danger lest it may lose touch
with the advances of science. But in a
democracy in which science must de-
pend on the people for support and
for recruits, it is essential that a sym-
pathetic understanding be maintained.
For this purpose two journals are
needed rather than one, for it is nec-
essary to address those having differ-
ent interests.

During the fifteen years since 1900,
the editor of The Popular Science
Monthly aimed to conduct a journal
maintaining high scientific standards
and discussing authoritatively problems
of scientific importance. The journal
was popular, in the sense that it was
not special or technical and could be
understood by those having education
and intelligence, but it was not popular
in the sense that it appealed to all
people and might number its sub-
scribers by the hundreds of thousands.
Manuscripts were received in large
numbers which were clearly intended
for a magazine of different type, and
such a magazine is needed. A well-
illustrated magazine devoted to the
popularization of science should have
a wide circulation and bo conducted on
different lines from a journal con-
cerned with the less elementary aspects
of scientific work, just as a high school
and the graduate school of a university
differ in their methods and in their
appeal.

A group of men desiring a journal
to which the name The Popular Sci-
ence Monthly will exactly apply, this
publication has been transferred +o
them, while, beginning in October, a
journal on the present lines of The
Popular Science Monthly will be
conducted under the more fitting name
of The Scientific Monthly. This
differentiation of The Popular Sci-

Statue op Andrew Dickson White by Karl Bitter,

recently unveiled on the campus of Cornell University. Dr. White, distinguished for
his contributions to education, diplomacy, letters and science, contributed his chapters
on the warfare of science and religion to The Popular Science Monthly.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

3°9

ence Monthly into two journals is in | the contrary, he and other surgeons
the natural course of evolution, each
journal being able to adapt itself to its
environment more advantageously than
is possible for a single journal. Each
can perform an important service for
the diffusion and advancement of sci-
ence.

SCIENTIFIC JOURNALS AND THE
PUBLIC

In a democracy, journals and a news-
paper press fit to educate people of all
sorts to an interest in science and to

would in so far lose their means of sup-
porting their families.

So scientific research, of greater
value than any other service to society,
is not paid for directly. It has been
mainly carried forward in this coun-
try by men employed to teach in col-
leges and universities who, as amateurs,
give part of their time to it. In recent
years the national government, endowed
institutions and industrial establish-
ments have undertaken to advance re-
search on a business basis and the gain

an appreciation of its measureless value ' has been ver? §reat- But in order to
for national and human welfare are
matters of the utmost importance.
Under an aristocratic regime, science,
like arts and letters, must be cultivated
and patronized from above. In Ger-
many the imperial government has di-
rected and subsidized its schools, uni-
versities and research institutions and

maintain and increase the work under
democratic control people must be
taught to value it, and for this purpose
the proper treatment of science in mag-
azines and newspapers is more impor-
tant than any other agency.

The problem is very difficult. One
does not expect a high school, a univer-

has aided commercial enterprises based ! s*tv or a museum to be self-supporting,
on applied science. In England men of I Even secondary schools for the chil-
wealth have devoted themselves to sci- ' dren of the rich are endowed. If the

entific research, as they have served
without payment as county magistrates

American Museum of Natural History
charged an entrance fee it would be an

and members of parliament. In both : empty place; the fees for a year would

countries and in France titles and social
position have been used as rewards.

Scientific research can not be under-
taken as a profession. In the existing
organization of society any service to
an individual or to a group of individ-
uals is paid for by them, but service +o
society is usually not paid for at all.
If newspaper publishers, ammunition
makers or army officers succeed in
causing Avar they profit; if they advo-
cate and maintain peace they suffer. If
lawyers reduce legal complexities and
delays, or if physicians decrease the
causes of disease, they sacrifice their
material interests. If a surgeon per-
forms an operation for cancer he may ! dred years if a slightly better germ-
be paid a thousand dollars for an plasm is established in a thousand years.

not support the institution for a month.
On the other hand, the side shows of a
circus may be profitable. Science is so
commonly ill-treated in popular maga-
zines and newspapers that the very
words "popular science" need to be
redeemed. The sensational newspapers,
the side shows of the circus and the
' ' movies ' ' supply what people will pay
for. It is no discredit to our democ-
racy that these are what they want;
on the contrary, it represents a great
advance when a hundred million people
care for such things. We may be satis-
fied if progress is made by education
and an improved environment in a hun-

hour's work; if he discovers an im-
proved technique he may profit some-
what, but scarcely more than other sur-
geons and far less than the patients;
if he should discover a cure for cancer
he would receive no money reward; on

The corporation of D. Appleton and
Company were losing ten thousand dol-
lars a year on The Popular Science
Monthly when they decided that they
were not justified in continuing it. It
was worth that much and far more to

3io

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the people, just as the American Mu-
seum of Natural History is worth three
hundred thousand dollars a year and
Columbia University is worth four mil-
lion dollars a year. But a private cor-
poration can not be expected to sub-
scribe indefinitely ten thousand dollars
a year for the benefit of the public.
The weekly journal Science was in like
manner supported for a time by Dr.
A. Graham Bell and Mr. Gardiner G.
Hubbard, at a total expense of about
eighty thousand dollars. There are over
a hundred journals and proceedings de-
voted to the publication of research
work in America not one of which pays
its expenses on a regular business basis.
Magazines connected with applied sci-
ence and popular mechanics may do so.
This represents a step in advance, which
we may hope indicates that ultimately
there may be a general interest in other
and more fundamental departments of
science.

It would probably be undesirable for
scientific journals to be directly sub-
sidized or endowed. Indirectly they are
now subsidized by the work of contrib-
utors and editors supported by endowed
or tax-supported institutions and by

subscriptions from public libraries. In
so far as they require additional sup-
port, it can probably best come through
an increase in the number of public li-
braries subscribing for such journals
and by an increase of subscribers among
those who may realize the importance
of supporting an institution essential
to society and its betterment.

SCIENCE AND NATIONAL WEL-
FARE

One of the alleviating circumstances
in the disaster of this war is the fact
that it thrusts on the attention of all
the place that science holds in national
and international affairs. Science does
not necessarily or at once make us moral
or wise, although its general influence
is in this direction. Human nature can
not be greatly altered by a change in
the environment effective for a short
period and on some individuals. But
when the new conditions become general
and individuals are favored who fit into
them, so that an altered race is pre-
served by natural selection, science will
make our morality and enforce its ob-
servance. We may look forward to the

Copyright by The International Press Exchange, New York.

Field Railway used in the German Advance in Russia. Within a week of the
capture of Warsaw an express railway service has been established between Lille and
Warsaw.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

3"

Copyright by International Press Exchange, New York.
The so-called " Liquid Fiee " used by the Germans in repulsing Attacks.

time when war will be no part of this
morality and will no longer exist.

Those who can not understand or do
not accept the argument that science
wiU ultimately control human conduct
must be convinced by the brute argu-
ment of accomplished fact that science
is essential to national efficiency. Ger-
many, against superior numbers, ad-
vances its lines in Poland and Russia
and holds them in Flanders and
France, it adjusts the nation to be self-
supporting and self-sufficient, because *t
has a better organization of science than
the other nations. Germany did not
spend so much per capita on its army
and navy as Great Britain or France,
but it spent more on science and re-
garded science more highly. It has
been stated that the British government

at present employs 17 chemists, the Ger-
man government about 1,000. We hear
it said that Germany has developed an
efficient military machine by subordi-
nating the individual to discipline from
above. It is not less true that the
German university has been one cf
the most anarchic of institutions — both
students and professors having had free-
dom greater than they have in Ameri-
can universities — and at the present
moment Germany owes more to its uni-
versities as they have been conducted
in the past than to its army as it is now
organized.

A complicated machine is not useful
in order to meet an emergency, but
rather the scientific attitude and the
scientific training which can react to
the new situation. A super dreadn aught

312

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

built at a cost of $15,000,000 may be an
asset or a burden. An equal sum spent
in selecting and educating 3,000 scien-
tific men would nearly double the num-
ber of men the country competent to
advance science. The dreadnaught is
a continual expense, it depreciates 'it
the rate of a million dollars a year, Its
existence tends to exert an influence
toward a war of aggression. The three
thousand scientific men would add < o
the wealth of the country in peace, to
its strength in a war of defense. If
two years ago the officers of the Ger-
man army had been put on the ships of
the British navy and the ships had been
sunk in the Atlantic, it would have been
for the welfare of the world. If the
number of men engaged in scientific re-
search and in the applications of sci-
ence could be doubled, the gain would
be incalculable.

If we wish to make the nation strong
in defense we should care for our chil-
dren and our schools, for our scientific
men and our universities — in this par-
ticular number of The Popular Sci-
ence Monthly it may be permitted to
add — for our journals devoted to the
diffusion and advancement of science.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS

We record with regret the death of
Frederick Ward Putnam, the distin-
guished anthropologist of Harvard Uni-
versity; of Dr. John Ulric Nef, head
of the department of chemistry of the
University of Chicago, and of Dr.
Joseph Austin Holmes, director of the
U. S. Bureau of Mines.

The American Association for the
Advancement of Science held a success-
ful meeting at San Francisco, Berkeley,

! and Stanford University, during the
first week of August. The address of
the president, Dr. W. W. Campbell, di-
rector of the Lick Observatory, which
was printed in the issue of Science for
August 20, is entitled ' ' Science and

{ Civilization."

A marble chair is to be placed in the
open-air Greek Theater of the Univer-

' sity of California in honor of Eugene
Waldemar Hilgard, professor of agri-
culture and dean of the College of
Agriculture from 1875 to 1906, and

i now professor emeritus.- — Professor I?.
A. Millikan, of the department of phys-
ics, has been elected president of the
University of Chicago Chapter of Phi
Beta Kappa.

Dr. William H. Welch, professor of
pathology in the Johns Hopkins Univer-
sity, and Dr. Simon Flexner, director
of the laboratories of the Eockefeller
Institute for Medical Eesearch, have
sailed for China where they go on be-
'< half of the China Medical Board of the
Eockefeller Foundation to report on the
medical schools and hospitals. — The
schooner George B. Cluett, chartered by
the Crocker Land relief expedition to
go in quest of Donald B. MaeMillan
and the members of his party in Green-
land, has sailed from North Sydney,
Nova Scotia. Dr. Edmund Otis Hovey,
of the American Museum of Natural
History, chairman of the Crocker Land

Exploration Committee, is in charge.

i

Governor Dunne has signed the bill

giving $5,000,000 to the University of

. Illinois for the biennium. It is the

largest grant made in a single law to

any university in the United States.

INDEX

3°9

INDEX

The Populae Science Monthly — July, August, September

NAMES OF CONTRIBUTORS ARE PRINTED IN SMALL CAPITALS

Abrams, LeRoy, The Floral Features of
California, 22

American Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, Pacific Coast Meet-
ing, 205

Ant-hill Fossils, Richard Swan Lull,
236

Biological Effects of Race Movements,
David Starr Jordan, 267

California, Floral Features of, LeRoy
Abrams, 22

Campbell, William Wallace, The
Evolution of the Stars and the For-
mation of the Earth, 209

Chemistry, Modern, The Dawn of,
John Maxson Stillman, 5

Chinese, The Moral Development of
the, Frederick Goodrich IIenke, 78

Civic Investment, P. R. Kolbe, 250

Coker, Robert E., Wa^er Conservation,
Fisheries and Food Supply, 90

Dawn of Modern Chemistry, John

Maxson Stillman, 5
Democracy, and Science, M. E. II \c

gerty, 25-1
Dominiax, Leox, Eurasian Waterways

in Turkey, 56

Earth, Formation of the, and the Evo-
lution of the Stars, William Wal-
lace Campbell, 209

Eastman, Elaine Goodale, The Waste
of Life, 1S7

Economic Factors influencing the For-
estry Situation, A. F. Hawes, 3 81

Eurasian Waterways in Turkey, Leon
Dominian, 56

Europe, Western, War Selection in,
David Starr Jordaxt, 143

Evolution, of the Elements and the
Constitution of Matter, Ernest
Rutherford, 105; of the Stars and
the Formation of the Earth, Wil-
liam Wallace Campbell, 209

Fiji, A History of, Alfred Golds- i

borough Mayer, 31, 292
Fisheries, Food Supply and Water

Conservation, Robert E. Coker, 90
Floral Features of California, LeRoy

Abrams, 22

Forestry Situation, Some Economic

Factors influencing the, A. F.

Hawes, 181
Fossils, Ant-hill, Richard Swan Lull,

236
Four Points in the Indictment of the

Smoke Nuisance, John O'Connor,

Jr., 211

Haggerty, M. E., Science and Democ-
racy, 254

Hawes, A. F., Some Economic Factors
influencing the Forestry Situation,
181

1 1 i:\ke. Frederick Goodrich, The
Moral Development of the Chinese, 78

History of Fiji, Alfred Goldsborough
Mayer, 31, 292

Howard, L. O., Some Pioneers in Mos-
quito Sanitation and other Mosquito
Work, 65, 169

Howerth, I. W.j War and the Prog-
ress of Society, 195

Jordan, David Starr, War Selection
in Western Europe, 143; Biological
Effects of Race Movements, 267

Journals, Scientific, and the Public, 309

Kolbe, P. R., A Civic Investment, 250

Leiden Laboratory and Professor

Onnes, 102
Life, The Waste of, Elaine Goodale

Eastman, 187
Lull, Richard Swan, Ant-hill Fossils,

236

Maclean, Annie Marion, Trade Union-
ism versus Welfare Work for WTomen,
50

Matter, the Constitution of, and the
Evolution of the Elements, Ernest
Rutherford, 105

Mayer, Alfred Goldsborough, A His-
tory of Fiji, 31, 292

Middle Ages, Natural Science in, Lynn
Thorndike, 271

Moral Development of the Chinese,
Frederick Goodrich Henke, 78

Mosquito Sanitation and Other Mos-
quito Work, Some Pioneers in, L. O.
Howard, 65, 169

3io

INDEX

National, Contributions to Science, 206;

Welfare and Science, 310
Natural Science in the Middle Ages,

Lynn Thorndike, 271

O'Connor, John, Jr., Four Points in
the Indictment of the Smoke Nui-
sance, 244

Onnes, Professor, and the Leiden Lab-
oratory, 102

Patrick, G. T. W., The Psychology of

War, 155
Pioneers in Mosquito Sanitation and

Other Mosquito Work, L. O. Howard,

65, 169
Popular Science Monthly and The

Scientific Monthly, 307
Primitive Ritualistic Ceremonies, Clark

Wissler, 200
Psychology of War, G. T. W. Patrick,

155

Race Movements, Biological Effects of,
David Starr Jordan, 267

Ritualistic Ceremonies, Primitive, Clark
Wissler, 200

Rutherford, Ernest, The Constitu-
tion of Matter and the Evolution of
the Elements, 105

Sanitation, Mosquito, and other Mos-
quito Work, Some Pioneers in, L. O.
Howard, 65, 169

Science, and Letters, The Republic of,
100; The Progress of, 100, 205, 307;
New Museum in London, 207; and
Democracy, M. E. Haggerty, 254;
Natural, in the Middle Ages, Lynn
Thorndike, 271 ; and National Wel-
fare, 310

Scientific, Items, 100, 208, 312; Jour-
nals and the Public, 309
Scientific Monthly and The Popular

Science Monthly, 307
Smoke Nuisance. Four Points in the

Indictment of John O'Connor, Jr.,

244
Society, The Progress of, and War, I.

W. Howerth, 195
Stars, The Evolution of the, and the

Formation of the Earth, William

Wallace Campbell, 209
Stillman, John Maxson, The Dawn

of Modern Chemistry, 5

Thorndike, Lynn, Natural Science in
the Middle Ages, 271

Trade Unionism versus Welfare Work
for Women, Annie Marion Mac-
lean, 50

Turkey, Eurasian Waterways in, Leon
Dominian, 56

War, Selection in Western Europe,
David Starr Jordan, 143; The Psy-
chology of, G. T. W. Patrick, 155;
and the Progress of Society, I. W.
Howerth, 195

Waste of Life, Elaine Goodale East-
man, 187

Water Conservation, Fisheries and
Food Supply, Robert E. Coker, 90

Welfare Work for Women, versus
Trade Unionism, Annie Marion
Maclean, 50

Wissler, Clark, The Functions of
Primitive Ritualistic Ceremonies, 200

Women, Welfare Work for, versus
Trade Unionism, Annie Marion
Maclean, 50

MBL WHOI LIBRARY

} ^111