I*

IGEO. C. HOITT
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^

WILLIAM SPOTTISWOODK

T H E

POPULAE SCIEl^CE

MONTHLY.

CONDUCTED BY E. L. AND W. J, YOUMANS.

VOL. XIV.

NOVEMBER, 18V8, TO APRIL, 1879.

NEW YORK :
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

549 & 551 BROADWAY.
1879.

COPTBIGHT BY

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

1879.

/0/f? b

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

.NOVEMBER, 1878.

THE CONTRAST OF COLOES.

By Peofessor 0. N. EOOD.

IN a previous chapter we have studied the changes which colored
surfaces experience when viewed under various kinds of illumina-
tion, or when modified in appearance by the admixture of more or less
white or colored light. The appearance which a colored surface pre-
sents to us can, however, be altered very materially, by a method which
is quite different from any of those that have thus far been mentioned:
we can actually change color to a considerable extent without at all
meddling with it directly, it being for this purpose only necessary to
alter the color which lies adjacent to it. The truth of this can be seen
by a very simple experiment: If we cut out of a sheet of red paper
two square pieces, about an inch in size, and then place one of them on

Fig. 1.— Sheets of Red and Green Paper with Red Squares.

a sheet of red, the other on a sheet of green paper, as indicated in Fig.
1, it will be found that the red square on the red paper will not appear
nearly so brilliant and saturated in color as that placed on the green
ground; hence the observer will be disposed to doubt whether the two

^ From the advance-sheets of a work on " Chromatics, with Applications to Art and
Industry."

VOL. xiv. — 1

2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

squares are really identical in hue. By a somewhat analogous pro-
ceeding we can cause a surface which properly has no color of its own,
which is really gray, to appear tinted red, blue, green, etc. These changes,
and others of a like character, are produced by what is called contrast,
and are partly due to actual effects generated in the eye itself, and
partly to fluctuations in the judgment of the observer. The subject of
contrast is so important that it will be worth while to make a some-
what careful examination of the laws which govern it, and it will be
well for the reader to repeat some of the simple experiments described
below. If we place a small piece of bright-green paper on a sheet of
gray drawing-paper, in the manner indicated in Fig. 2, and then for
several seconds attentively look at the small #;ross in the centre of the
green slip, we shall find, on suddenly removing it, that in its place a
faint image of a rose-red color makes its appearance {see Fig. 3). This

GRAY

GREEH

+

Fig. 2.— Gray Paper with Green Slip.

Fig. 3. — Grat Paper with Rose-colored
Image.

red image presently vanishes, and the gray paper resumes its natural
appearance. The rose-red ghost which is thus developed has a color
which is complementary to that which called it into existence, and this
will also be the case if we employ little squares of other colors : red
will give rise to a greenish-blue image, blue to a yellow, violet to a
greenish-yellow, etc., the color of the image being always complement-
ary to that which gave rise to it. Upon this account these images
are called negative, since as far as the color goes they are just the re-
verse of the images which are first presented to the eye of the observer.
They are also often spoken of, in older treatises on optics, as " the acci-
dental colors." It is quite easy to explain their production with the aid
of the theory of Young and Helmholtz. Let us take as an example
the experiment just described: According to our theory the green light
from the little squares of paper, acting on the eye, fatigues to some
extent the green nerves of the retina, the red and violet nerves mean-
while not being much affected. When the green paper is suddenly
jerked away by the string, gray light is presented to the fatigued reti-
na, and this gray light may be considered to consist, as far as we are
concerned, of red, green, and violet light. The red and violet nerves, not
being fatigued, respond powerfully to this stimulus ; the green nerves,
however, answer this new call on them more feebly, and in consequence

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS. 3

we have presented to us, mainly, a mixture of the sensations red and
violet, giving as a final result rose-red or purplish-red. The green
nerves, of course, are not so fatigued that they do not act at all when
the gray light is presented to them, but the only effect that their par-
tial action has, is to render the rose-colored image somewhat pale or
whitish in appearance. The fatigue of the optic nerve mentioned here
does not differ essentially from that which it undergoes constantly even
under the conditions of ordinary use, where the waste is constantly
made good by the blood circulating in the retina, and by the little in-
tervals of rest constantly occurring. In our experiment we have merely
confined the fatigue to one set of nerves, instead of distributing it
equally among the three sets.

The above experiments and explanation will enable us easily to
comprehend the more complicated case, where, instead of placing our
little green square on gray, we lay it on a sheet of colored paper. In-
stead, then, of gray, let us take j-ellow paper, placing the green square
on it as before {see Fig. 4). On suddenly withdrawing the green
square, we find it replaced by an orange-colored ghost (Fig. 5), which

YZLim

GREEN

- ^ ■

YELLOW

\ ORANOE \

Fig. 4.— Yellow Groxtnd with
Green Slip.

Fig. 5.— Yellow GRotrND wth Oeange-
coLORED Image.

we account for thus : As before, the green nerves are fatigued, the red
and violet nerves remaining fresh ; when the square is removed, yellow
light is presented to the retina, and this yellow light, as explained in
Chapter IX., tends to act on the red and green nerves equally, but the
green nerves in the present case do not respond with full activity, hence
the action is more confined to the red nerves, and, as explained in
Chapter X,, the resultant tint is necessarily orange, that is to say, we
have a strong red sensation mingled with a weak green sensation, and
the result is the sensation called orange. In this experiment the vio-
let nerves do not come into play to any great extent. If the green
square is placed on a blue ground the image becomes violet, for the
reason that the blue light which is presented to the fatigued retina
acts, as explained in Chapter IX., on the green and violet nerves ; but
the green nerves being already fatigued, the action is mostly confined
to the violet nerves, and hence the corresponding sensation. In this
case the red nerves hardly come into play at all.

It follows, from the above examples and reasoning that the final
effect is, that we obtain as an after-image what amounts to a mixture

4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the complementary color of the small square with the color of the
ground ; and, by recollecting this, we can easily retain this class of facts
in the memory.

There is another similar experiment, which is simpler than those
just described, but which nevertheless is instructive : A small square
of black paper is to be placed on a sheet of red paper, and the atten-
tion in this case is to be directed to a mark on the edge of the former
{see Fig. 6). When the black square is suddenly removed, the observ-
er sees in place of it a more luminous spot, which in the case before

Fig. 6.— Red Geound with Black Paper.

Fig. 7.— Red Ground with Intense
Red Image.

us will, of course, be red ; but what is remarkable is the circumstance
that this red image will be more intense or saturated in color than the
rest of the ground. The rest of the sheet of red paper will look as
though gray had been mixed with its color (Fig. 7). This experiment
will, of course, succeed with paper of any bright color, and Helm-
holtz has found that the same effect can be obtained with the pure
colors of the prismatic spectrum. The explanation, according to our
theory, runs about thus : While we are in the act of looking at the
edge of the black square, red light is passing into the eye, and is fa-
tiguing all those portions of the retina that are not protected by the
presence of the black square; it thus happens that the ability of the
larger portion of the retina to receive the sensation of red is consid-
erably diminished ; the ability of the protected portion, of course,
suffers meanwhile no such change. When the black square is sud-
denly removed, the unfatigued portion of the retina receives a power-
ful impulse from the red surface, but the effect produced upon the rest
of the retina is inferior in dearree. This accounts for the fact that the
image of the square is brighter or more luminous, and we can easily
understand why it is at the same time more intense or saturated in
color, if we remember, as explained in Chapter IX., that red light ex-
cites into action not only the red nerves, but to a lesser extent the
green and violet nerves. Now, as the red nerves begin to be fatigued,
the action of the other two sets will be relatively more powerful than
at first, so that gradually the sensations of green and violet begin to
add themselves to that of red, or, what is the same thing, the sensation

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS. 5

of white mingles itself with that of red and makes the red color of the
paper look a little grayish. The success of the experiment with the
pure colors of the spectrum, which contain no white, is easily accounted
for by the explanation just given.

All these phenomena are cases of what is called successive contrast,
because we look in succession from one surface to another. When
colored surfaces are placed near each other and compared in a natural
manner, successive contrast plays an important part, and the appearance
of the colors is more or less modified according to its laws. If we
attempt to confine our attention to only one of the colored surfaces,
this still holds good, for the eye involuntarily wanders to the other,
and to prevent this requires a good deal of careful practice, for fixed
vision is quite opposed to our natural habit. It follows from this that,
in the natural use of the eye, the negative images, although present to
some extent, are not sharp and distinct, and hence usually remain
unobserved by persons not trained to observations of this character.
Nevertheless these images modify to a considerable extent the appear-
ances of colored surfaces placed near each other, and the changes of
hue are visible enough to the most uneducated eye.

One of the most common cases belonging here is represented in
Fig. 8. We have a gray pattern traced on a green ground ; the

Fig. 8.— Gray Figttre on a Green Ground.

tracery, however, will not appear pure gray, but tinged with a color
complementary to that of the ground ; that is, reddish. We can, of
course, substitute for the green any other bright color, and it will
always be found that the gray pattern is more or less tinged with the

6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

complementary hue. As black is really a dark gray, we should expect
to find it also assuming, to some extent, a color complementary to that
of the ground, and this is indeed the case, though the effect is not quite
so marked as with a gray of medium depth. Chevreul, in his great
work on the simultaneous contrast of colors, relates an anecdote which
illustrates the matter now under consideration : Plain red, violet-blue,
and blue woven stuffs were given by certain dealers to manufacturers,
with the request that they should ornament them with black patterns.
When the goods were returned the dealers complained that the pat-
terns were not black, maintaining that those traced on the red stuffs
were green ; on the violet, dark greenish-yellow ; and on the blue, cop-
per-colored. Chevreul covered the grounds with white papers in such
a manner as to expose only the patterns, when it was found that their
color was truly black, the effects which had been observed being entire-
ly due to contrast. The remedy in such cases is not to employ pure
black, but to give it a tint like that of the colored ground, taking care
to make it just strong enough to balance the hue generated by contrast.
If we substitute a white pattern for the black, something of this same
effect can often be observed, but it is less marked than with gray or
black. In cases like those now under consideration, the contrast is
stronger when the colored surface is bright and intense or saturated in
hue. The effect is also increased by entirely surrounding the second
color with the first ; the circumscribing color ought also to be consider-
ably larger than its companion. When these conditions are observed,
the effect of contrast is generally noticeable only on the smaller sur-

UlARX^IMUliE

CYM BLUE

ULTRAMARINE

CYAN BLUE

Fig. 9.— Akkangeseent to show the ErrECTS of Simultaneoub Contrast (ONE-HAxr Size).

face, the larger one being scarcely affected. When, on the other hand,
the two colored surfaces are about equal in extent, then both suffer
change. If it is desired to produce a strong effect of contrast, the col-
ored surfaces must be placed as near each other as possible. This is
beautifully illustrated in one of the methods employed by Chevreul in
studying the laws of contrast. Two colored strips were placed side by

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS.

side in contact, as shown in Fig. 9, duplicate strips being arranged in
the field of view at some distance from each other. The tints of the
two central strips were both altered ; those placed at a greater distance
apart suffered no change. In the experiment represented in Fig. 9,
the central ultramarine by contrast is made to appear more violet, the
central cyan-blue more greenish ; the color of the outlying strips is
scarcely affected.

As it requires a little consideration to predict the changes which
colors undergo through contrast, we give below a table containing the
most important cases :

Pairs of Color?. Change due to Contrast.

S Red becomes more purplish.

( Orange "

Red....
Yellow.

Red.

Blue-greeu .

5 Red..
I Blue.

Red...
Violet.

range .
Yellow.

Orange .
Green . .

^ Orange.. .
( Cyan-blue .

" yellowish.

" purplish.

" greenish.

" brilliant.

a u

" orange-red.

" greenish.

" orange-red.

" bluish.

" red-orange.
" greenish-yellow.

" red-orange.

" bluish-green.

" brilliant.

Pairs of Colors. Change due to Contrast.

j Orange becomes more yellowish.

" bluish.

i Violet

j Yellow.
( Green .

( Yellow . . .
( Cyan-blue.

I

Yellow

Ultramariue-blue

\ Green ,
l Blue..

(Gr
1 Vi

reen .
olet.

^ Greenish-yellow.
< Violet

orange-yellow,
bluish-green.

orange-yellow,
blue.

brilliant.

yellowish-green,
purplish.

yellowish-green,
purplish.

brilliant.

Blue . .
Violet.

greenish,
purplish.

It is easy and instructive to study the changes produced by contrast
with the aid of a chromatic circle (Fig. 10), and it will be found that
alterations in color produced by con-
trast obey a very simple law: when
any two colors of the chromatic cir-
.cle are brought into competition or
contrasted, the effect produced is, ap-
parently, to move them both farther
apart. In the case, for example, of
orange and yellow, the orange is
moved toward the red, and assumes
the appearance of reddish-orange ;
the yellow moves toward the green,
and appears for the time to be green-
ish-yellow. Colors which are comple-
mentary are already as far apart in
the chromatic circle as possible, hence

they are not changed in hue, but merely appear more brilliant and sat-
urated. This is indeed the effect which a strict application of our rule

Fig. 10.— Chromatic Circle.

8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

leads to : The two colors are to be moved farther apart ; they are al-
ready situated on the opposite extremities of a diameter of the circle,
and, if they are to recede still farther from each other, they can accom-
plish this in no other way than by moving outside of the circumference
of the circle ; but this corresponds, as explained in the previous chapter,
to an increase of saturation. If the experiments indicated in the pre-
vious table are carefully repeated, it will be found that all the pairs of
colors there enumerated are not equally affected by contrast. The
changes of tint are greatest with the colors which are situated nearest
to each other in the chromatic circle, and much less with those at a
distance. Thus both red and yellow are much changed by contrast,
the red becoming purplish, the yellow greenish, while red -udth cyan-
blue, or blue, is much less affected in the matter of displacement or
change of hue. On the other hand, the colors which are distant from
each other in the chromatic circle, while suffering but slight changes.
in hue, are made to appear more brilliant and saturated — that is, they
are virtually moved somewhat outside of the circle, the maximum effect
taking place with colors which are complementary. Colors which are
identical are affected by contrast in exactly the opposite way from
those which are complementary — that is, they are made to appear duller
and less saturated. The author finds that these and other effects of
contrast can be studied with great advantage by the aid of two identical
chromatic circles laid down on paper. One set of these lines should be
traced on a sheet of transparent paper, which is afterward to be placed
over the companion-circle. The use of these circles will best be made
evident with the aid of an example : Let us suppose that we wish to
ascertain with their aid the effect produced by red, as far as contrast
goes, on all the other colors, and also on red itself. We place the trans-
parent circle on its companion so that the two drawings may coincide
in position, and we then move the upper circle along the diameter join-
ing the red and green-blue some little distance, so that the two circles
no longer have the same common centre. We then transfer the points
marked red, orange, yellow, etc., on the upper circle, by pricking with
a pin through to the lower circle ; these pin-marks on the lower circle
will indicate the changes produced on all the colors by competition
with red. Fig. 11 gives the result. The dotted circle with the crosses
represents the new positions of the different colors when contrasted
with red. If we examine it we find that red, when contrasted with
greenish-blue, causes this last color to move away from the centre of
the circle in a straight line ; hence, as the new point is on the same
diameter, but farther from the centre, we know that the greenish-blue
is not made more or less blue or green, but is simply caused to appear
more saturated or brilliant. The new point for the red lies also on the
same diameter, but is nearer to the centre of the circle ; that is, the
color remains red, but appears duller or less saturated. Experience
confirms this : if a considerable number of pieces of red cloth are ex-

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS. 9

amined in succession, the last one will appear duller and inferior in
brilliancy to the others, but it will still appear red.

Proceeding with the examination of the effects produced on the
other colors, we find that orange has been moved toward yellow, and
also toward the centre of the circle ; hence our diagram tells us that
red, when put into competition with orange, causes the latter to appear

NmaNN

ORANGE

REDf -Jt

PURPLE

VIOLET

G9EtWR\.\K.

t^M\m.\i'L

\iU9.Mll^W\^

Fig. 11. — Chbomatic Circle displaced by Contrast (shows the effects produced by red upon

the other colors).

more yellowish, and at the same time less intense. Advancing along
the circumference of the circle, our diagram informs us that yellow is
not much affected in the matter of saturation or intensity, but is simply
made to appear more greenish. The two circles during superposition
cut each other near the position of yellow ; from this point onward the
effect changes as far as intensity or saturation is concerned, the green-
ish-yellow being moved decidedly outside of the original circle as well
as toward the green; it is made, therefore, by contrast with red, to
appear more brilliant as well as more greenish. Green is made to
appear somewhat bluish and more brilliant. Greenish-blue has been
considered. Cyan-blue is made to appear slightly more greenish as well
as much more brilliant ; the same is true of blue, though its increase in
brilliancy by contrast with red is rather less than is the case with cyan-
blue. Violet has its hue considerably altered toward blue ; its satura-
tion is diminished. Purple is made to look more violet and is much
diminished in saturation.

If we wish to study the effects produced on the colors of the chro-
matic circle by contrasting them with yellow, we have of course merely
to displace the upper circle along the line joining yellow and its com-
plement, ultramarine-blue, and then proceed as before.

It is quite evident that this contrast-diagram will furnish correct
results only on condition that the colors in it are properly arranged ; ,if
the angular positions of the colors are laid down falsely, the results in
the matter of increase or diminution of brilliancv will also be false.

lO

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The author has made many experiments to settle this question, and in
rig. 12 gives his result in the form of a diagram.

From the foregoing, then, it is evident that the effect of contrast may
be helpful or harmful ; by it colors may be made to look more beauti-
ful and precious, or they may damage each other and appear dull, pale,
or even dirty. When the apparent saturation is increased, we have
the first effect ; the second, when it is diminished. Our diagram (Fig.
11) shows that the saturation is diminished when the contrasting colors
are situated near each other in the chromatic circle, and increased when
the reverse is true. It might be supposed that we could easily over-

FlG. 12.— CONTRAST-DlAGHAM, ACCOKDING TO O. N. EoOD.

come the damaging effects of harmful contrast by simply making the
colors themselves from the start somewhat more brilliant ; this, how-
ever, is far from being true. The pleasure due to helpful contrast is
not merely owing to the fact that the colors appear brilliant or satu-
rated, but that they have been so disposed and provided with such
companions that thej^ are made to glow with more than their natural bril-
liancy. Then they strike us as precious and delicious, and this is true
even when the actual tints are such as we would call poor or dull in
isolation. From this it follows that paintings made up almost entirely
of tints that by themselves seem modest and far from brilliant, often
strike us as being rich and gorgeous in color ; while on the other hand
the most gaudy colors can easily be arranged so as to produce a de-
pressing effect on the beholder. We shall see hereafter that, in making

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS,

11

chromatic compositions for decorative purposes or for paintings, artists
of all times have necessarily been controlled to a considerable extent
by the laws of contrast, which they have instinctively obeyed, just as
children in walking and leaping obey the law of gravitation, though
hardly conscious of its existence.

The phenomena of contrast as exhibited by colors which are intense,
pure, and brilliant, are to be explained to a considerable extent by the
fatigue of the nerves, as set forth in the early part of the present chap-
ter. The changes in color and saturation become particularly con-
spicuous after somewhat prolonged observation, and are often attended
with a peculiar soft glimmering, which seems to float over the surfaces,
and, in the case of colors that are far apart in the chromatic circle, to
lend them a lustrous appearance. Still, upon the whole, the eflPects of
contrast with brilliant colors are often not strongly marked at first
glance, from the circumstance that the colors, by virtue of their actual
intensity and strength, are able to resist these changes, and it often
requires a practised eye to detect them with certainty. The case is
quite otherwise with colors which are more or less pale or dark — that
is, which are deficient in saturation, or luminosity, or both. Here the
original sensation produced upon the eye is comparatively feeble, and
it is hence more readily modified by contrast. In these cases the
fatigue of the nerves of the retina plays but a very subordinate part, as
we recognize the effects of contrast at the first glance. We have to

Fia. 13.— Shadow of Rod in a Darkened Rooji.

deal here with what is known as simultaneous contrast, the effects tak-
ing place when the two surfaces are, as far as possible, regarded simul-
taneousl3^ In the case of simultaneous contrast, the changes are due
mainly to fluctuations of the judgment of the observer, but little to the
fatigue of the retinal nerves. We carry in ourselves no standard by

12

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which we can measure the saturation of color or its exact place in the
chromatic circle ; hence, if we have no undoubted external standard at
hand with which to compare our colors, we are easily deceived. A slip
of paper, of a pale but very decided blue-green hue, was placed on a
sheet of paper of the same general tint, but somewhat darker and more
intense or saturated in hue. The small slip now appeared pure gray,
and by no effort of the reason or imagination could it be made to look
otherwise. In this experiment no undoubted pure gray was present in
the field of view for comparison, and, in point of fact, the small slip did
actually approach a pure gray in hue more nearly than the large sheet ;
hence the eye instantly accepted it for pure gray. The matter did not,
however, stop here : a slip of pure gray paper was now brought into
the same green field, but, instead of serving as a standard to correct
the illusion, it assumed at once the appearance of a reddish-gray. The
pure gray slip really did approach reddish-gray more than the green
field surrounding it, and hence was accepted for this tint.

It has been stated above that the effects produced by simultaneous
contrast are due not to retinal fatigue, but to deception of the judg-
ment ; now, as the effects of simultaneous contrast are identical in kind
with those generated by successive contrast, it is evident that the state-
ment needs some proof. This can be furnished with the aid of a beau-
tiful experiment with colored shadows. In making this experiment, we
allow white daylight to enter a darkened room through an aperture. A,
arranged in a window, as indicated in Fig. 13. At M we set up a rod

Fig. 14.— Shadows of Eod, using Daylight and Candle-Light.

and allow its shadow to fall on a sheet of white cardboard or on the
white wall of the room. It is evident, now, that the whole of the card-
board will be illuminated with white light, except those portions occu-
pied by the shadow, 1. We then light the candle at C (Fig. 14) ; its
light will also fall on the cardboard screen, and will then cast the

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS. 13

shadow 2 — that is, the candle-light will illuminate all parts of the screen
except those occupied by the shadow 2 ; this portion will be illumi-
nated with pure white light. Instead, however, of appearing to the
eye white, the shadow 2 will seem to be colored decidedlj^ blue.

For the production of the most powerful effect, it is desirable that
the shadows should have the same depth, which can be effected by regu-
lating the size of the aperture admitting daylight. Now, although the
shadow cast by the candle is actually pure white, yet, by contrast with
the surrounding orange-yellow ground, it is made to appear decidedly
blue. So strong is the illusion that, even after the causes which gave
rise to it have disappeared, it still persists, as can be shown by the fol-
lowing experiment of Helmholtz :

While the colored shadows are falling on the screen, they are to be
viewed through a blackened tube of cardboard held in such a way that
the observer has both the shadows in his field of view ; the appearance,
then, will be like that represented in Fig. 15. After the blue shadow

Fig. 15.— Blue and Yellow Shadows viewed thkough a Tube.

has developed itself in full intensity, the tube is to be moved to the
left, so that the blue shadow may fill the whole field. The tube being
held steadily in the new position, the shadow will still continue to
appear blue instead of Avhite, even though the exciting cause, viz., the
orange-yellow candle-light, is no longer acting on the eye. The candle
may be blown out, but the surface will still appear blue, as long as the
eye is at the tube. On removing the tube, the illusion instantly van-
ishes, and it is perceived that the color of the surface is identical with
that of the rest of the screen, which is at once recognized as white. In
a case like this, the fatigue of the retinal elements can play no part, as
the illusion persists for a far longer time than is necessary for their
complete rest ; we must hence attribute the result to a deception of the
judgment.

The simple experiments of H, Meyer are less troublesome than
those just described, and at the same time highly instructive. A small
strip of gray paper is placed on a sheet of green paper, as indicated

14 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in Fig. 16 ; it will be found that the tint of the gray paper scarcely
changes, unless the experimenter sits and stares at the combination for
some time. A sheet of thin white tissue-paper is now to be placed

over the whole, when it will instantly be
perceived that the color of the small slip
has been converted by contrast into a pale
red. Persons seeing this illusion for the
first time are always much astonished.
Here we have an experiment showing that
the contrast produced by strong saturated
tints is much feebler than with tints which
are pale or mixed with white light, for,
by placing tissue - paper over the green
sheet, the color of the latter is extraor-
FiG. 16.— Green and Grat Papers dinarily weakened and mixed with a large

FOK Experiment on Contrast ,• , e \ -i. ^• \.i. txi-

(One-quarter Size). quantity oi white lig;ht. In this experiment

it often hapi^ens that the red, which is due
to contrast alone, seems actually stronger than the green ground itself.
If, instead of using a slip of gray paper, we employ one of black, the
contrast is less marked, and still less with one of white. It is scarcely
necessary to add that, if red paper is employed instead of green, the
small gray slips become tinted by contrast with the complementary
color — i. e., greenish-blue ; the same is true with the other colors. By
preparing with India-ink a series of slips of gray paper, ranging from
pure white to black, an interesting series of observations can be made
on the conditions most favorable for the production of strong contrast-
colors. The strongest contrast vnll be produced in the case of red,
orange, and yellow, when the gray slip is a little darker than the color
on which it is placed, the reverse being true of green, blue, violet, and
purple ; in every case the contrast is weaker if the gray slip is much
lighter or much darker than the ground. We must expect, then, in
painting, to find that neutral gray will be more altered by pale tints of
red, orange, or yellow, which are slightly lighter than itself, and that
the gray will be less altered by these colors when differing considerably
from it in luminosity ; analogous conclusions with regard to green,
blue, violet, and purple, can also be drawn. Saturated or intense colors
in a painting have less effect on white or gray than colors that are
pale ; this was shown in the preliminary experiment when gray was
placed on a ground of strong color. In repeating these experiments it
will be noticed that the effect of contrast is stronger with green, blue,
and violet, than with red, orange, or yellow — that is to say, it is stronger
with the cold than with the warm colors.

We must next examine the effects that are produced by contrasting
colors that differ in luminosity or in saturation. If the two colors are
identical except in the matter of saturation, it will be found that the
one which is more saturated will gain in intensity, while its pale rival

THE CONTRAST OF COLORS.

1?

will appear still paler. A slip of paper painted with a somewhat pale
red, when placed on a vermilion ground, appears still paler, and may
actually be made to look white. If a still paler slip be used, it may
even become tinged greenish-blue, its color being in this case actually
reversed by the effect of contrast. When the colors differ in luminosity,
analogous effects are observed : a dull-red slip was placed on a vermil-
ion ground; the effect was as though a quantity of gray had been
added to the slip ; it looked more dingy and somewhat blackish. An-
other slip, still darker and containing less red, when placed on the same
ground looked as if it were tinged with olive-green ; a still darker slip,
with still less red color, when treated in the same way looked black, with
a tinge of blue. When, however, this last slip was placed on a white
ground, or compared with true black, it was seen that its color was far
from black. The general result of contrasting colors which differ much
in strength then is, that the feebler one appears either more whitish or
grayish, or assumes the complementary tint ; the stronger one, on the
other hand, appears still more intense.

If the strong and weak colors are complementary to each other, then
each of them gains in intensity and appears purer, this gain seeming to
be greater in the case of the pale tint. From this it follows that while
the juxtaposition of strong with feeble colors usually injures or greatly
alters the latter, colors that are complementary furnish an exception,
the reason of which is evident at the first glance.

When the pale or dark colors are not complementary to their more
intense or brilliant riv^als, they undergo the same changes indicated in
the table on page 7, the changes in the case of the dull or pale colors
being considerably greater. In proportion as the colors are distant
from each other in the chromatic circle, do they gain in saturation and
beauty ; while, as they approach, their character is altered and they are
apt to look very pale, or, in the case of the dark colors, blackish or
dirty. This is particularly so when the brilliant color is large in sur-
face and surrounds the darker one ; with the reversed conditions the
effect is not so much felt. Thus, a somewhat dull red near vermilion
no longer looks red but brown; a dull orange tint under the same con-
ditions looks like a yellowish-brown.

It might be supposed, from what has preceded, that colors would
enrich each other only when separated by a large interval in the chro-
matic circle, and from a purely physiological point of view this is indeed
true; still there are other influences of a more spiritual character at
work which modify, and sometimes even reverse, this lower law. Thus
the presence of a pale color in a painting near that which is richer often
passes unperceived, simply making the impression of a higher degree
of illumination. We recognize the representation of a flood of light,
and delight in it without finding fault with the pale tints, if only they
are laid with decision and knowledge ; again, pale color we delight in
as representing the distance of a landscape ; the pale greenish-gray,

i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

bluish-gray, and faint tints of purple, which make it up, we never think
of putting into envious competition with the rich, intense colors of the
foreground, but enjoy each separately, and rejoice in the effects of at-
mosphere and distance which neither alone by itself could adequately
render. That is to say, for the sake of light and atmosphere or dis-
tance, we gladly sacrifice a large portion of the powerful tints at our
disposal and consider ourselves gainers. The same is also true in an-
other direction: we are ready to make the same sacrifice for the sake
of avoiding monotony and gaining variety, provided only we can justify
the act by a good reason. Cases of this kind often occur in large
masses of foliage, which, if of the same general color, are apt in a
painting to look monotonous and dull, unless great labor is bestowed in
rendering the light and shade and the small differences of tint which
actually exist in Nature. Under such circumstances the observer feels
a certain relief at the presence of a few groups of foliage, which are
decidedly paler in color than the surrounding masses, provided only
there is a good excuse for their introduction. Again, the mere contrast
of dark or dull tints enhances the color and luminosity of those that are
bright, and the observer receives the impression that he is gazing at a
mass of gay and beautiful coloring, scarcely noticing the presence of
the much larger quantity of tints that are darkened by being in deep
shade. These darkened shade-tints are usually not variations of the
same hue as the brighter ones, but are more bluish, so that technically
these combinations would often present instances of harmful contrast,
were it not for the fact that the bright and dull tints do not belong even
to the same chromatic circle, but to circles situated in different planes,
as explained in the previous chapter. Putting this into more ordinary
language, we should say simply that the strong contrast of light and
shade masked such effects of harmful color-contrast as were present.
There is, however, another case where we are not so indifferent or so
lenient s if two objects are placed near each other in a painting, and
there is good reason why both should display the same color with
equal intensity, if one is painted with rich color, the other with a pale
or dark shade of the same color, then the latter will look either washed
out or dirty, and a bad effect will be produced. As a familiar illustra-
tion of this kind of effect, we may allude to the use in dress of two
widely -differing shades of ribbon which have still the same general color.
There is a still more general reason upon which the pleasure that we
experience from contrast depends : after gazing at large surfaces filled
with many varieties of warm color, skillfully blended, we feel a peculiar
delight in meeting a few mildly contrasting tints ; they prevent us
from being cloyed with all the wealth of rich coloring so lavishly dis-
played, and their faint contradiction makes us doubly enjoy the richer
portions of the painting. So also when the picture is mainly made up
of cool bluish tints ; it is then extraordinarily strengthened and bright-
ened by a few touches of warm color.

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 17

THE eyolutio:n' of ceeemoxial goyeenment.

By HEKBEET SPENCEE.
VII. TITLES.

THE undeveloped human intelligence does not initiate. Adhering
tenaciously to whatever his fathers taught him, the primitive man
deviates into novelty only through unintended modifications. That
which every one now knows holds of languages, that they are not de-
vised but evolve, equally holds of usages. To many proofs of this
the foregoing chapters of this series have added further proofs.

The like holds of titles. Looked at as now existing, these appear
artificial : there is suggested the idea that they were at some time or
other consciously settled. But this is no more true than it is true that
our common words were once consciously settled. Names of objects
and qualities, and acts, are at first directly or indirectly descriptive ;
and the names we class as titles are in this respect like all others.
Just as the deaf-mute who calls to mind a person he means by mimick-
ing a peculiarity has no idea of introducing a symbol, so neither has
the savage, when he recalls a place as the one where the kangaroo was
killed or the one where the cliff fell down ; so neither has he when he
suggests an individual by referring to some marked trait in his appear-
ance or fact in his life ; and so neither has he when he gives those
names, literally descriptive or metaphorically descriptive, which now
and again develop into titles.

The very conception of a proper name grew up unawares. The fact
that among the uncivilized a child is for years known as " Thunder-
storm," or " New Moon," or " Father-come-home," shows us that there
was originally nothing more than a reference to an event which oc-
curred on its birthday, as a way of raising the thought the particular
child meant. And if afterward it gets such a name as " Squash-head,"
or "Dirty-saddle" (Dakota names), this results from spontaneously
using an alternative, and sometimes better, means of identification.
Evidently the like has happened with such less needful names as titles.
These must have differentiated from ordinary proper names, simply by'
being descriptive of some trait, or some deed, or some function, held in
honor.

Various savage races give a man a name of renown in addition to,
or in place of, the name by which he was previously known, on the
occasion of a great achievement in battle. The Tupis furnish a good
illustration. " The founder of the [cannibal] feast took an additional
name as an honorable remembrance of what had been done, and his
female relations ran through the house shouting the new title." And

VOL. XIV. — 2

i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of these same people, Hans Stade says : " So many enemies as one of
them slays, so many names does he give himself; and those are the no-
blest among them who have many such names." In North America, too,
when a young Creek Indian brings his first scalp he is dubbed a man
and a warrior, and receives a " war-name." Among the more advanced
people of ancient Nicaragua, this practice had established a general
name for such : they called one who had killed another in battle tapa-
lique y and cobra was an equivalent title given by the Indians of the
Isthmus.

How descriptive names of honor, thus arising during early mili-
tancy, become in some cases official names, we see on comparing evi-
dence furnished by two sanguinary and cannibal societies in different
stages of advance. In Feejee, " warriors of rank receive proud titles, such
as 'the divider of a district, ' the waster of a coast, 'the depopulator
of ' an island — the name of the place in question being affixed." And
then in ancient Mexico the names of offices filled by the king's brothers
or nearest relatives were, one of them, " Cutter of men," and another,
" Shedder of blood."

Where, as among the Feejeeans, the conceived distinction between
men and gods is vague, and the formation of new gods by apotheosis
of chiefs continues, we find the gods bearing names like those given
during their lives to ferocious warriors. " The Woman-stealer," " the
Brain-eater," " the Murderer," " Fresh-from-slaughter," are naturally
such divine titles as arise from descriptive naming among ancestor-
worshiping cannibals. That sundry titles of the gods worshiped by
superior races have originated in a kindred manner, is implied by the
ascription of conquests to them. Be they the Egyptian deities, the
Babylonian deities, or the deities of the Greeks, their power is repre-
sented as having been gained by battle ; and with accounts of their
achievements are in some cases joined congruous descriptive names,
such as that of Mars — " the Blood-stainer," and that of the Hebrew
god — "the Violent One ;" which, according to Keunen, is the literal
interpretation of Shaddai.

Very generally among primitive men, instead of the literally de-
scriptive name of honor, there is given the metaphorically descriptive
name of honor. Of the Tupis, whose ceremony of taking war-names is
instanced above, we read that " they selected their appellations from
visible objects, pride or ferocit}' influencing their choice." How such
names, first spontaneously given by applauding companions, and after-
ward accorded in some more deliberate way, are apt to be acquired by
men of the greatest prowess, and so to become names of rulers, is sug-
gested by what Ximenez tells us respecting the more civilized peoples
of Guatemala. Their king's names enumerated by him are — " Laugh-
ing Tiger," "Tiger of the Wood," "Oppressing Eagle," "Eagle's
Head," " Strong Snake," etc. Throughout savage Africa there is a like

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 19

genesis of royal titles. The King of Ashantee has among his glorifying
names " Lion " and " Snake." In Dahomey, titles thus derived are made
superlative : the king is " the Lion of Lions." And in a kindred spirit
tlie King of Usambara is called " Lion of Heaven : " a title whence,
should this king undergo apotheosis, myths of sundry kinds may nat-
urally result. From Zulu-land, along with evidence of the same thing,
there comes an illustration of the way in which names of honor derived
from imposing objects, animate and inanimate, are joined with names
of honor otherwise derived, and pass into certain of those forms of ad-
dress lately dealt with. The titles of the king are — " The noble ele-
phant," " Thou who art forever," " Thou who art as high as the heav-
ens," " Thou who begettest the men," " The black one," " Thou who
art the bird who eats other birds," " Thou who art as high as the
mountains," " Thou who art the peacemaker," etc. Shooter shows us
how these Zulu titles are used, by quoting part of a speech addressed
to the king — " You mountain, you lion, you tiger, you that are black.
There is none equal to you." Further, there is proof that names of
honor thus originating pass into titles applied to the position occupied,
rather than to the occupant considered personally ; for Shooter says
that a CaiTre chief's wife "is called the Elephantess, while his great
wife is called the Lioness."

Guided by such clews we cannot miss the inference that the use of
animal-names as names of honor, traceable in the records of extinct
historic races, similarly arose. If we find that now in Madagascar one
of the king's titles is " Mighty Bull," and are reminded by this that to
the conquering Rameses a like laudatory name is given by defeated
foes, we can scarcely avoid suspecting that, from animal-names thus
given to kings, there result the animal-names given as names of honor
to deities ; so that Apis in Egj-pt becomes an equivalent for Osiris and
the Sun, and so that Bull similarly becomes an equivalent for the con-
quering hero and Sun-god Indra.

With titles derived from imposing natural objects and powers, it is
the same. We have seen how among the Zulus the hyperbolic compli-
ment to the king — " Thou art as high as the mountains " — passes from
the form of a simile into the form of a metaphor when he is addressed
as " you Mountain." And that the metaphorical name thus used some-
times becomes a proper name, proof comes to us from Samoa, where
" the chief of Pango-Pango being now Maunga, or Mountain, that
name must never be used in his presence." There is evidence that
among the ruder ancestor-worshipers divine titles are similarly de-
rived. The Chinooks and Navajos and Mexicans in North America,
and the Peruvians in South America, regard certain mountains as gods;
and since these gods have other names, the implication is that in each
case an apotheosized man had received in honor either the general name
Mountain, or the name of a particular mountain, as has happened in
New Zealand. From complimentarv comparisons to the sun, there re-

20 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

suit not only personal names of honor and divine names, but also official
titles. On reading that the Mexicans distinguished Cortes as " the ofip-
spring of the Sun," that the Chibchas called the Spaniards in general
" children of the Sun," and that in Tlascala Alvarado was named by
the people " Sun " — on reading that " Child of the Sun " was the com-
plimentary name often given to any one particularly clever in Peru,
where the Incas, regarded as descendants of the Sun, successively en-
joyed a title hence derived — we are enabled to understand how " Son
of the Sun " came to be a title borne by the successive Egyptian kings,
which was joined with proper names individually distinctive of them.
And remembering how in Egypt, along with elaborate ancestor-worship,
there went worship of living kings, we shall have no difficulty in see-
ing that as the kings, besides the solar title borne in common by them,
took from the same original such special titles as "the Sun becoming
victorious," "the Sun orderer of Creation," etc., there naturally result-
ed, among their gods arising by apotheosis, solar titles similarly special-
ized; as "the Cause of Heat," "the Author of Light," "the Power of
the Sun," " the Vivifying Cause," " the Sun in the Firmament," and
" the Sun in his Resting-place."

Given, then, the metaphorically-descriptive name and we have the
germ from which grew up these primitive titles of honor; which,
at first individual titles, become in some cases titles attaching to the
offices filled.

To say that the words which in various languages are the equiva-
lents of our word " God," are originally descriptive words, will be a
startling proposition to those who, unfamiliar with the facts, credit the
savage with thoughts like our own ; and will be a repugnant proposi-
tion to those who, knowing something of the facts, yet persist in as-
serting that the conception of a universal creative power was possessed
by man from the beginning. But whoever studies the evidence without
bias will find proof that the general word for deity was at first simply
a word expressive of sujDeriority. Among the Feejeeans the name is ap-
plicable to anything great or marvelous ; among the Malagasy to what-
ever is new, useful, or extraordinary ; among the Toda^ to everything
mysterious — so that, as Marshall says, "it is truly an adjective noun of
eminence." Applied alike to animate and inanimate things, as indicat-
ing some quality above the common, the word is in this sense applied
to human beings, both living and dead ; but as the dead are supposed
to have acquired mysterious powers of doing good and evil to the liv-
ing, the word comes to be more especially applicable to them. Though
ghost and god have with us widely-distinguished meanings, yet they
are originally equivalent words ; or rather, originally, there is but one
word for the supernatural being. Besides being shown this by mis-
sionaries who have found no native word for god which did not also
mean ghost, demon, or devil ; besides being shown this by the Greeks

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 21

and Romans, who used for the sph-its of deceased relatives the same
word which they used for their great deities ; and besides being shown
it by the Egyptians, in whose hieroglyphics the same " determinative "
means, according to the context, god, ancestor, august person — we are
shown it by the Hebrews, who applied the word elohim not only to
their supreme supernatural being but also to ghosts : indeed, giving as
they did this same name to living persons of power, they show us, just
as primitive peoples at large do, that superiority of one or other kind is
the sole attribute ascribed. And since in early belief the other-self of
the dead man is equally visible and tangible with the living man, so
that it may be slain, drowned, or otherwise killed a second time;
since the resemblance is such that it is difficult to learn what is the dif-
ference between a god and a chief among the Feejeeans ; since the in-
stances of theophany in the " Iliad " prove that the Greek god, capable
of beino- wounded by men's weapons, was in all respects so like a man
that special insight was required to discriminate him — we see how nat-
urally it results that the title " god," given to a powerful being com-
monly thought of as invisible, is often given to a visible powerful
beino" -. the title being applied under the belief that he may be the
other-self of some dreaded man come back, even if it is not applied be-
cause of his natural superiority. Indeed, as a sequence of this theory,
it almost inevitably happens that men transcending in capacity those
atound them are suspected to be these returned ghosts or gods, to
whom unusual powers are ordinarily ascribed. Hence the fact that
Europeans, considered as the doubles of their own deceased people,
are called ghosts by Australians, New-Caledonians, Darnley-Islanders,
Krooraen, Calabar people, Mpongwe, etc. Hence the fact that they are
called by the alternative name gods by Bushmen, Bechuanas, East Af-
ricans, Fulahs, Khonds, Feejeeans, Dyaks, ancient Mexicans, Chibchas,
etc. Hence the fact that, using the word in the sense above explained,
superior men among uncivilized peoples occasionally call themselves
gods ; as do the palas, a kind of priests among the Todas, and as do
some chiefs among the New-Zealanders and among the Feejeeans.

The original meaning and application of the word being thus under-
stood, we need feel no surprise on finding " God " used as a title of
honor. The King of Loango is so called by his subjects. Battel tells us ;
and Krapf says the like of the King of Msambara. At the present time
among wandering Arabs, the name " God " is applied in no other sense
than as the generic name of the most powerful living ruler known to
them. This makes more credible than it might otherwise be, the state-
ment that the Grand Lama, personally worshiped by the Tartars, is
called by them "God, the Father." It is in harmony with such other
facts as that Radama, King of Madagascar, is addressed by the women
who sing his praises as "O our God ;" and that to the Dahoman king
the alternative word " Spirit " is used ; so that, when he summons an}'
one, the messenger says, " The Spirit requires you," and when he has

2 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

spoken, all exclaim, "The Spirit speaketh true." All which facts make
comprehensible that assumption of Qecx; as a title by ancient kings in the
East which is to moderns so astonishing.

Descent of this name of honor into ordinary intercourse, though not
common, does sometimes occur. After what has been said above, it
will not appear strange that it should be applied to deceased persons ;
as, according to Motolinia, it was by the ancient Mexicans, who " called
any of their dead teotl so and so — i. e., this or that god, this or that
saint." And prepared by such an instance we shall understand the
better its occasional use as a greeting between the living. Colonel
Yule says of the Kasias, " The salutation at meeting is singular —
'Ruble! OGod!'"

The connection between " God " as a title and " Father " as a title
becomes clear only on going back to those early forms of conception
and language in which the two are undifferentiated. The fact that, even
in so developed a language as Sanskrit, words which mean " making,"
" fabricating," " begetting," or " generating," are indiscriminately used
for the same ^^urpose, suggests how naturally in the primitive mind the
living father, as begetter or visible causer of new beings, becoming at
death a causer of new beings who is no longer visible, is associated in
word and thought wi'th dead and invisible causers at large, who, some of
them acquiring preeminence, come to be regarded as causers in general
— makers or creators. When Sir Rutherford Alcock remarks that "a
spurious mixture of the theocratic and patriarchal elements forms the
bases of all government, both in the Celestial and the Japanese Empires,
under emperors who claim not only to be each the patriarch and father
of his people, but also divine descent," he adds one to the many mis-
interpretations produced by descending from our high conceptions, in-
stead of ascending from the low conceptions of the primitive man. For
what he thinks a " spurious mixture " of ideas is, in fact, a normal union
of ideas ; w4iich, in the cases named, has persisted longer than common-
ly happens in developed societies.

The Zulus show us this union very clearly. They have traditions of
Unkulunkulu (literally, the old, old one), " who was the first man,"
" who came into being and begat man," " who gave origin to man and
everything besides " (including the sun, moon, and heavens), and who
is inferred to have been a black man because all his descendants are
black. The original Unkulunkulu is not worshiped by them because he
is supposed to be permanently dead ; but instead of him the Unkulun-
kulus of the various tribes into which his descendants have divided are
severally worshiped, and severally called " Father." Here, then, the
ideas of a Creator and a Father are directly connected. Equally spe-
cific, or even more specific, are the kindred ideas conveyed in the an-
swers which the ancient Nicaraguans gave to the question, " Who made
heaven and earth ? " After their first answers, " Tamagastad and ^ipat-

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 23

toval," " our great gods whom we call teotes^'' cross-examination
brought out the further answers — "Our fathers are these teotes ;''"' "all
men and women descend from them ; " " they are of flesh and are man
and woman ; " " they walked over the earth dressed, and ate what the
Indians ate." Gods and first parents being thus identified, fatherhood
and divinity become allied ideas. The remotest ancestor supposed to
be still existing in the other world to which he went, the creator of his
descendants, "the old, old one," or "ancient of days," becomes the
chief deity ; and so " father " is not, as we suppose, a metaphorical
equivalent for " god," but a literal equivalent.

Therefore it happens that among all nations we find it an alternative
title. In the before-quoted prayer of the New-Caledonian to the ghost
of his ancestor — " Compassionate father, here is some food for you ; eat
it ; be kind to us on account of it " — we ai'e shown that original identi-
fication of fatherhood and godhood to which all mythologies and theolo-
gies carry us back. "We see the naturalness of the facts that the Peru-
vian Incas worshiped their father the Sun ; that Ptah, the first of the
dynasty of the gods who ruled Egypt, is called "the father of the
father of the gods ; " and that Zeus is " father of gods and men."

After contemplating these early beliefs in which the divine and the
human are so little distinguished, or after studying the beliefs still ex-
tant in China and Japan, where the rulers, " sons of heaven," claim
descent from these most ancient fathers or gods, it is easy to see how
the name father, in its higher sense, comes to be applied to a living
potentate. His proximate and remote ancestors being all spoken of as
fathers, distinguished only by the prefixes grand, great-great, etc., it
results that the name father, given to every member of the series, comes
to be given to the last of the series still living. With this cause is
joined a further cause. Where establishment of descent in the male line
has initiated the patriarchal family, the name father, even in its original
meaning, comes to be associated with supreme authority, and to be there-
fore a name of honor. Indeed, in nations formed by the compounding
and recompounding of patriarchal groups, the two causes coalesce. The
remotest known ancestor of each compounding group, at once the most
ancient father and the god of the compound group, being continuously
represented in blood, as well as in power, by the eldest descendant of
the eldest, it happens that this patriarch, who is head not of his own
group only but also of the compound group, stands to both in a relation
analogous to that in which the apotheosized ancestor stands ; and so com-
bines in a measure the divine power, the paternal power, and the kingly
power.

Hence the prevalence of this word as a royal title. It is used
equally by American Indians and by Nevv-Zealanders in addressing the
rulers of the civilized. We find it in Africa, Of the various names for
the king among the Zulus, the name father heads the list; and in Daho-
mey, when the king walked from the throne to the palace, " every in-

24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

equality was pointed out, with finger-snappings, lest it might offend the
roj'al toe, and a running accompaniment of 'Dadda! dadda ! ' (Grand-
father ! grandfather !) and of ' Dedde ! dedde ! ' (softly ! softly !) was
kept up." In Asia, we find cases in which the titles "Lord Raja and
Lord Father" are joined together. In Europe, at the present time,
father is applied to the czar ; and in ancient times, under the form s^Ve,
it was the common name for potentates of various grades — feudal lords
and king's : and still continues to be one of the names used in address-
ing a monarch.'

More readily than usual, perhaps from its double meaning, has this
title been diffused. Everywhere we find it becoming the name for any
kind of superior. Not to the king only among the Zulus is the word
" baba," father, used; but also by inferiors of all ranks to those above
them. In Dahomey a slave applies this name to his master, as his
master applies it to the king. And Livingstone narrates how he was
referred to as " our father " by his attendants, as also was Burchell by
the Bachassins. It was the same of old in the East ; as when " his ser-
vants came near, and spake unto Naaman, and said. My father," etc. ;
and it is the same in the remote East at the present time. A Japanese
"apprentice addresses his patron as 'father.'" In Siam "children of
the nobles are called ' father and mother ' by their subordinates ; " and
Hue narrates how he saw Chinese laborers prostrating themselves be-
fore a mandarin, exclaiming, " Peace and happiness to our father and
mother ! " Then, as a stage in the descent to more general use, may be
noted its extension to those who, apart from their rank, have acquired
the superiority ascribed to age : a superiority sometimes taking prece-
dence of rank, as in Siam, and in certain ways in Japan and China. Such
extension occurred in ancient Rome, where pater was at once a magis-
terial title and a title given by the younger to the elder, though not re-
lated ; and in Russia, at the present time, the equivalent word is used
to the czar, to a priest, and to any aged man. Eventually it spreads to
young as well as old. Under the form sire, at first applied to feudal
rulers, major and minor, the title of father originated our familar sir ^
once general among us in speech and still in letters.

A curious group of derivatives, common among uncivilized and semi-
civilized peoples, must be named. The wish to compliment by ascrib-
ing that dignity which fatherhood implies, has in many places led to
the practice of replacing a man's proper name by a name which, while
it recalls this honorable paternity, distinguishes him by the name of his

' Though the disputes respecting the origins of nre and sieur have ended in the con-
clusion that they are derived from the same root, meaning originally elder, yet it has be-
come clear that sire was a contracted form in use earlier than sieiir (the contracted form
of seigneur)^ and hence acquired a more general meaning, which became equivalent to
father. Its applicability to various persons of dignity besides the seigneur, is evidence
of its previous evolution and spread ; and that it had a meaning equivalent to father, is
shown by the fact that in early French grant-sire is used as an equivalent for grand-pere,
and also by the fact that sire was not applicable to an unmarried man.

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 25

child. The Malays, says St. John, have " the same custom as the
Dyaks of taking the name of their first-born, as Pa Sipi, the father of
Sipi." Marsden names the usage as common in Sumatra; and Ellis
illustrates it from Madagascar. It is so too among some Indian hill-
tribes : the Kasias " address each other by the names of their children,
as Pabobon, father of Bobon ! " Africa also furnishes instances. Be-
chuanas addressing Mr. Moffat used to say, " I speak to the father of
Mary ; " and in the Pacific States of North America there are people so
solicitous to bear this primitive name of honor that, until a young man
has children, his dog stands to him in the position of a son, and he is
known as the father of his dog.

The supremacy associated with age in patriarchal groups and in so-
cieties derived by composition from patriarchal groups, shown primarily
in that honoring of parents which, as in the Jewish commandments, is
put next to the worship of God, and secondarily in the honoring of old
men in general, gives rise to a kindred but divergent group of titles.
Age being dignified, words indicating seniority become names of dignity.

The beginnings may be discerned among the uncivilized : councils
being formed of the older men, there arises a connection between the
local name for an older man and an office of power and therefore of
honor. * Merely noting this, it will suffice if we trace among European
peoples the growth of titles hence resulting. Among the Romans,
senator, or member of the senatiis, words having the same root with
senex, was the name for a member of the assembly of elders ; and in
early times these senators or elders, otherwise called pati^es, represented
the component tribes : father and elder being thus used as equivalents.
From the further cognate word senior, we have, in derived languages,
signore, seigneur, senhor ; first applied to head-men, rulers, or lords,
and then by diffusion becoming names of honor for those of inferior
rank. The same thing has happened with ealdor or aldor. This, says
Max Muller, " like many other titles of rank in the various Teutonic
tongues, is derived from an adjective implying age ; " so that " earl "
and " alderman," both diverging from this root, are names of honor,
similarly resulting from that social superiority which went along with

age.

Whether or not the German title Graf should be added, is a moot
point. If Max Muller is right in considering the objections of Grimm
to the current interpretation inadequate, then the word originally means
gray ; that is, gray-headed.

We may deal briefly with the remaining titles which re illustrate, in
their respective ways, the general principle set forth.

Like other names of honor that grew up in very early times, the
name " king" is one concerning the formation of which there are dif-
ferences of opinion. By general agreement, however, its remote source

26 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is the Sanskrit ganaka ; and " in Sanskrit, ganaka means producing,
parent, then king." If this is the true derivation, we have simply an
alternative title for the head of the family group, of the patriarchal
group, and the cluster of patriarchal groups. The only further fact
respecting it calling for remark is the way in which it becomes com-
pounded to produce a higher title. Just as in Hebrew Abram, meaning
" high father," came to be a compound used to signify the fatherhood
and headship of many minor groups ; and just as the Greek and Latin
equivalents to our patriarch signified, by implication if not directl}'-, a
father- of fathers — so in the case of the title " king " it has happened
that a potentate recognized as dominant over numerous potentates has
in many cases been descriptively called " king of kings." In Abyssinia
this compound royal name is used down to the present time ; ancient
Eg}^tian monarchs assumed it ; and it occurred also as a supreme title
in Assyria. And here again we meet a correspondence between terres-
trial and celestial titles. As " father " and " king " are applied in com-
mon to the visible and to the invisible ruler, so also is "king of
kings."

This need for marking by a distinct or additional name the ruler who
becomes head of many rulers leads to the introduction of other titles of
honor. In France, for example, while the king was but a predominant
feudal noble, he was addressed by the title of sire^ which was a title
borne by feudal nobles in general ; but after the middle of the sixteenth
century, when his supremacy became settled, the word "majesty" came
into use as distinctively applicable to him. Similarly with the names
of secondary potentates. In the earlier stages of the feudal period, the
titles baron, marquis, duke, and count, were often confounded : the
reason being that their attributes as feudal nobles, as guards of the
marches, as military leaders, and as friends of the king, were so far
common to them as to yield no clear grounds for distinction. But as
the differentiation of functions progressed, these titles differentiated in
their meanings.

" The name 'baron,' " says Ch^ruel, " appears to have been the generic term
for every kind of great lord, that of duke for every kind of military chief, that
of count and marquis for every ruler of a territory. These titles are used
almost indiscriminately in the romances of chivalry. "When the feudal hier-
archy was constituted the name baron denoted a lord inferior in rank to a count
and superior to a simple knight."

That is to say, with the progress of political organization, and the
establishment of rulers over rulers, certain titles became specialized for
the dignifying of the superiors, in addition to those which they had in
common with the inferiors.

As is shown by the above cases, special titles, like general ones, are
not made, but grow — they are at first descriptive. Further to exem-
plify this descriptive origin, and also to exemplify the undifferentiated
use of titles in early days, let me enumerate the several styles by which,

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 27

in the Merovingian period, the mayors of the palace were known, viz. :
major domils regice, senior domUs, princeps dom'ds, and in other in-
stances prcepositKS, proefectus^ rector^ gubernator, moderator, du'x, cus-
tos, suhregidiis. In which list (noting as we .pass how our own title
" mayor," said to be derived from the French onaire, is originally de-
rived from the Latin major, meaning either greater or elder) we are
shown how further names of honor carry us back to words implying age
as their originals ; and how in place of these descriptive words the
alternative words used are descriptive of functions.

Perhaps better in the case of titles than in any other case is illus-
trated the diffusion of ceremonial forms that are used to propitiate first
the most powerful, then the less powerful, and, finall}*, all others.

Uncivilized and semi-civilized peoples, civilized peoples of past
times, and existing civilized peoples, all furnish examples. Among
Samoans " it is usual, in the courtesies of common conversation, for all
to call each other chiefs. If you listen to the talk of little boys even,
you will hear them addressing each other as chief this, that, and the
other thing." In Siam, a man's children by any of his inferior wives
address their father as " my lord, the king ; " and the word Nai, which
is the name for chief among the Siamese, " has become a term of civil-
ity which the Siamese give to one another." A kindred result has
occurred in China, where sons speak of their father as " family's majes-
ty," " prince of the family ; " and China supplies a further instance,
which is the more noteworthy because it is special. Here, where the
supremacy of ancient teachers became so great, and where the titles tze
or futze, signifying "great teacher," added to their names, were subse-
quently added to the names of distinguished writers, and where class
distinctions based on intellectual eminence characterize the social or-
ganization, it has resulted that this name of honor, signifying teacher,
has become an ordinary complimentary title. Ancient Rome furnishes
other evidences. The spirit which led to the diffusion of titles is well
exhibited by Mommsen in describing the corrupt giving of public tri-
umphs that were originally accorded only to a " supreme magistrate
who augmented the power of the state in open battle."

" In order to put an end to peaceful triumphators, . . . the granting of a
triumph was made to depend on the producing proof of a pitched battle which
had cost the lives of at least five thousand of the enemy ; but this proof was fre-
quently evaded by false bulletins. . . . Formerly the thanks of the community
once for all had sufficed for service rendered to the state ; now every meritori-
ous act seemed to demand a permanent distinction. ... A custom came into
vogue, by which the victor and his descendants derived a permanent surname
from the victories they had won. . . . The example set by the higher was fol-
lowed by the humbler classes."

And under the influence thus illustrated, dorainus and rex eventuall}'^
became titles used to ordinary persons. Nor do modern European na-

28 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tions fail to exemplify the process. The prevalence of names of rank
on the Continent, often remarked, reaches in some places great extremes.
In Mecklenburg, says Captain Spencer, " it is computed that the nobil-
ity include one-half of the pojDulation. . . . At one of the inns I found
a Herr Graf [count] for a landlord, a Frau Grafin [countess] for a land-
lady, the young Herren Grafen filled the places of hostler, waiter, and
boots, while the fair young Fraulein Grafinnen were the cooks and
chambermaids. I was informed that in one village .... the whole of
the inhabitants were noble except four."

French history shows us more clearly perhaps than any other the
stages of diflFusion. Just noting that in early days, while madame was
the title for a noble lady, inademohelle was used to the wife of an ad-
vocate or physician, and that when, in the sixteenth century, madame
descended to the married women of these middle ranks, mademoiselle
descended from them to the immarried women, let us look more espe-
cially at the masculine titles sire^ seigneur^ sieur, and monsieur. Set-
ting out with sire^ as an early title for a feudal noble, we find, from a
remark of Montaigne, that in 1580, though still applicable in a higher
sense to the king, it had descended to the vulgar, and was not used for
intermediate grades. Seigneur, introduced later as a feudal title, while
sire was losing its meaning by diffusion, and for a period used alterna-
tively with it, became, in course of time, contracted into sieur. ^y-
and-by sieur also began to spread to those of lower rank. Afterward,
reestablishing a distinction by an emphasizing prefix, there came into
use monsieur ^ which, as applied to great seigneurs, was new in 1321,
and which came also to be the title of sons of kings and dukes. And
then by the time that monsieur also had become a general title among
the upper classes, sieur had become a bourgeois title. Since "which
time, by the same process, the early sire and the later sieur, dying out,
have been replaced by the universal monsieur. So that there appear
to have been three waves of diffusion : sire, sieur, and monsieur, have
successively spread downward.

How by this process high titles eventually descend to the very low-
est, we are shown most startlingly in Spain, where " even beggars ad-
dress each other as Senor y Caballero — Lord and Knight."

For form's sake, though scarcely otherwise, it is needful to point
out how we are taught here the same lesson as before. The title-giving
among savages which follows victory over a foe, brute or human, and
which literally or metaphorically distinguishes the individual by his
achievement, unquestionably originates in militancy. Though the more
general names father, king, lord, elder, and their derivatives, which
afterward arise, are iiot directly militant in their implications, yet they
are indirectly so ; for they are the names of rulers evolved by militant
activity, who habitually exercise militant functions : being in early
stages always the commanders of their subjects in battle. Down to

EVOLUTION OF CEREMONIAL GOVERNMENT. 29

our most familiar titles we have this ^genesis implied. " Esquire " and
" Mister " are derived the one from the name of a knight's attendant
and the other from the name magister — originally a ruler or chief, who
was a military head by origin and a civil head by development.

As in other cases, comparisons of societies of different types disclose
this relation in another way. Remarking that in sanguinary and des-
potic Dahomey the personal name " can hardly be said to exist ; it
changes with every rank of the holder," Burton says : " The dignities
seem to be interminable ; except among the slaves and the canaille^
' handles ' are the rule, not the exception, and most of them are he-
reditary." So, too, under Oriental despotisms. " The name of every
Burman," says Yule, " disappears when he gets a title of rank or office,
and is heard no more;" and in China "there are twelve orders of
nobility, conferred solely on the members of the imperial house or clan,"
besides " the five ancient orders of nobility." In Europe it is the same.
Travelers in both Russia and Germany, with their social organizations
subordinated to the purposes of war, comment on the " insane rage for
titles of every description : " the results being that in Russia " a police-
office clerk belongs to the eighteenth grade, and has the right to the
title of Your Honor ; " while in Germany the names of ranks and names
of office, so abundantly distributed, are habitually expected and studi-
ously given, in both speech and writing. Meanwhile England, for ages
past less militant in type of structure, has ever shown this trait in a
smaller degree ; and along with the recent growth of industrialism and
accompanying changes of organization, the use of titles in social inter-
course has greatly decreased.

With equal clearness is this connection shown within each society.
Names of honor pertain to members of that regulative organization
which militancy originates. By the thirteen grades in our army and
the fourteen grades in our navy, we are shown that the exclusively
militant structures still continue to be characterized in the highest de-
gree by numerous and specific titular marks. To the ruling classes,
descendants or representatives of those who in past times were heads
of military forces, the higher distinctions of rank still mostly belong ;
and of remaining higher titles, the ecclesiastical and legal are also
associated with the regulative organization. Meanwhile the producing
and exchanging parts of the society, carrying on industrial activities,
only in exceptional cases bear any titles beyond those which, descend-
ing and spreading, have almost lost their meanings.

It is indisputable, then, that, serving first to commemorate the
triumphs of savages over their foes, titles have expanded, multiplied,
and differentiated, as conquest has formed larger societies by consolida-
tion and reconsolidation of small ones ; and that, belonging to the type
of social structure generated by habitual war, they tend to lose their
meanings, their uses, and their values, in proportion as this structure
is replaced by one fitted for carrying on the pursuits of peace.

30 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

*

THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN ANIMALS AND PLANTS.

By W. K. brooks.

THE original investigator of Nature soon learns by constant expe-
rience that descriptions or even drawings, however correct, do not
exactly represent the objects themselves, but are imperfect and ideal
abstractions. This is true, to a greater or less extent, of every draw-
ing of the simplest organ or tissue, and of every description of a species
or genus of animals or plants; but it is especially and most emphati-
cally true of all attempts at definitions of the larger and more compre-
hensive groups of organisms.

A definition of such a group as an order or class of animals, attempt-
ing as it does to state in a few words the characteristics which are com-
mon to all the forms included, is necessarily abstract, and may not, in
fact cannot, be exactly embodied in any one individual of the whole
group. Then, too, certain characteristics which are exhibited by only
one or two aberrant forms, and are accordingly not characteristic of
the group as a whole, may be omitted from the definition^ although
they furnish the clew to the relationship with allied groups, and are
therefore of the utmost importance. An illustration which is not
drawn from the organic world may make this more evident. The fact
that printed books have followed and are a perfected form of the
parchment manuscripts of the middle ages is shown by the ornamental
initial letters, imitations of the illuminated letters of the manuscripts,
which are placed at the heads of the chapters of a few books. Not-
withstanding their significance, these initial letters would not find a
place in any definition or general description of a modern book.

As a consequence of this inevitable lack of agreement between
natural objects and their definitions, all knowledge of Nature is of very
little value unless it is based upon a direct personal acquaintance with
Nature itself. How different, for instance, will be that conception of
such a group as the Coelenterata, which is formed by the study of a
short, definite, verbal description, from the idea in the mind of the
student whose knowledge of the group as a whole has been acquired
gradually by the study and comparison of the various forms of life
which it includes !

Definitions are valuable and indispensable aids to study, and, as long
as their necessary lack of agreement with the reality is kept in mind,
they can do no harm ; but the history of science warns us to be con-
stantly on our guard, lest distinctions which seem to be sharp and ab-
solute, when stated in words, come to be regarded as having as real an
existence in Nature as in words, and we thus come, in the words of
Bacon, to exchange "things for words, reason for insanity, and the
world for a fable."

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 31

The tenacity with which many thinkers still cling to a belief in the
reality and absoluteness of such distinctions as those expressed by the
terms "organic and inorganic," "living and dead," "animal and vege-
table," " rational and instinctive," etc., is plainly the result of this ten-
dency to attribute to Nature the exactness of words.

The terms animal and plant were not established as the result of
scientific and thorough study and comparison, but were first introduced
to give expression to the most superficial and obvious difference be-
tween living things.

Originally an animal was a living thing which could move and feel,
and a plant one which could not ; and this is still the popular view,
although the scientific definitions are quite different. As soon as prim-
itive man began to observe and to generalize and to use abstract
words, one of the first generalizations which attracted his attention
was that, of the bodies which were of most importance to him, and like
him grew up, matured, and died, some were still more like hipiself in
having the power to move and feel, while others lacked this power, and
were fixed and insensible. We do not intend to imply that this gener-
alization took this definite shape, but simply that it was reached and
put into words at a very early period; and this is shown by the fact
that in nearly all languages, and among all but the lowest races of
men, this division of living things into two great groups is recognized,
and definite words are employed to distinguish the animal from the
vegetable organism. At a later period, when living things came to be
more carefully studied, and superficial observation gave place to more
exact and careful comparison, these two groups were found to have a
real existence in Nature ; and, as long as this study was confined to the
more familiar, abundant, and easily-studied organisms, the increase of
scientific knowledge only served to render the distinctness of the two
groups more evident. It was soon found that all the common plants
are alike in many other respects besides being fixed and insensible, and
that all ordinary animals have many common characteristics, and it was
found convenient to express these resemblances briefly and absolutely
in definitions, and thus the terms animal and plant came to have a
more and more exact and scientific value. It was seen, too, that all
living things have much in common, and that the chief difference be-
tween plants and animals is the possession by the latter of the new
properties of sensation and voluntary motion, added to those character-
istics which they share with the plants. It is not at all strange that it
was thought desirable to express this fact by a word, and that, in the
same way that living things were said to differ from inorganic bodies
by having, in addition to all the properties of the latter, a new and
higher quality, vitality, animals were said to possess the new and
higher faculties of feeling and will, in addition to all the faculties of
the plant.

Thus was gradually built up that conception of Nature which re-

32 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

gards the three kingdoms — the mineral, the vegetable, and the animal —
as three successive steps in an ascending series, each being supposed
to have all the properties and characteristics of the groups below it,
and something new and entirely different in addition. This conception
admits of such brief and definite statement, and when put into words
is so clear and simple, that its general acceptance is quite natural ; and
we need not be surprised that it only gives way very slowly in favor of
a view which does not admit of the same definite and simple formu-
lation.

We will now examine the reasons which have led modern thinkers
to reject this view, and to hold that, real and actual as the differences
between animals and plants are, they are by no means absolute.

The most conspicuous and superficial difference between animals
and plants is the one which we have already noticed. Animals have
the power of free locomotion and of independent action, which is deter-
mined within the animal; these powers are called into action by changes
in the external world, and imply the existence of sensation and con-
sciousness. In all the ordinary plants the power of locomotion is lack-
ing, and there are no voluntary actions like those which result from the
sensitiveness of the animal. This difference finds its expression in the
well-known dictum of Linn^us : " Plantae vivunt ; animalia vivunt et
sentiunt ; " and ilpon it is based the classification of the functions and
organs of the animal as those of vegetative and those of animal life.
Those functions which are carried on independently of the will, and
are not influenced directly by changes in the external world — digestion,
assimilation, secretion, circulation, and reproduction, for example — are
called the vegetative functions of the body ; while those of relation,
such as sensation and voluntary motion, are called, in contradistinction,
the functions of animal life.

The difference which has led to the general acceptance and current
use of these and many similar expressions is real, as far as the higher
and more familiar animals and plants are concerned, but, with the growth
of our knowledge of the lower forms of life, the necessity for expansion
and modification of the definition of both groups becomes apparent.
Many of the lower animals, such as the hydroids and sponges, as well
as many highly-organized animals, like the tunicates and oysters, lack
the power of locomotion; and, on the other hand, many of the lower
plants are quite actively locomotive. Certain plants which are by no
means low are quite sensitive to external changes, and the actions by
which they respond to these changes in the Venus's-flytrap, for in-
stance, give quite as good proofs of the existence of volition as are
afforded by the actions of many of the lower animals.

Another superficial and easily-recognized distinction between ani-
mals and plants is afforded b}'' the contrast in general form and struct-
ure ; this, like the first, is real, as long as our attention is restricted to
the higher forms of the two groups. In the animal we find a sharply

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 33

and definitely limited body, within which is a complicated mass of
viscera, while in the plant the physiological equivalents of these, the
nutritive and respiratory organs, are distributed in areas of consider-
able extent over the diffused and indefinite outer surface of the body.
In the animal the absorbent surfaces of these organs are internal ; in
the plant, external. In nearly all the higher animals there is a mouth-
opening, through which solid as well as liquid food may pass into the
digestive cavity, which is furnished with specialized glandular append-
ages, such as the salivary glands, liver, etc. Within the digestive
tract the food is elaborated and prepared for digestion and digested,
and the indigestible refuse is discharged from the body through a defi-
nite anal opening. The nitrogenous products of decomposition are
excreted from the body, usually in solution, by definite urinary organs.
There is a muscular pulsating heart, by which the nutritive fluid or
blood is propelled through blood-vessels with definite walls, and respi-
ration is effected almost entirely by definite limited organs which are
usually internal. The animal also has internal reproductive organs, as
well as a nervous system and organs of sensation.

In the plants those organs which exist at all are present in a much
simpler form. The roots absorb nutritive matter through their sur-
faces, usually as a fluid, and the surfaces of the leaves are the respira-
tory organs, absorbing and giving oil gases. The complicated system
of internal organs, so characteristic of the animal, is entirely wanting
in the plant, and the internal substance of the latter is made up of a
comparatively homogeneous parenchyma of cells and tubes, through
which the fluids circulate. The reproductive elements are not formed
in limited local internal glands, but externally, and there are no nerves
or sense-organs.

This distinction is diagnostic but not perfectly characteristic ; that
is, we may safely classify as an animal any organism in which we find a
definite, sharply-limited body, and complicated internal viscera, such as
a digestive tract, respiratory organs, blood-vessels, internal reproduc-
tive organs, and a nervous system and sense-organs ; while we may,
with almost equal safety, refer to the vegetable kingdom an organism
in which the nervous, sensory, and circulating organs are wanting^ and
the processes of absorption and respiration take place through the
outer surface. This distinction is therefore diagnostic, for it enables
us to determine, with considerable certainty, to which of the two
groups a given organism is to be referred ; but it is not characteristic,
and cannot be made the basis of an absolute definition, for it gradually
disappears as we study the lower animals and plants. As a matter of
fact, each one of the peculiarities given above as distinctive of animals
will be found lacking in organisms the animal nature of which is un-
doubted, and many animals will be found to want all of them. Even
among the vertebrates the organs of respiration are greatly simplified
in the lower forms. In the adult frog the skin aids the lungs in aerating

VOL. XIV. — 3

34 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the blood, and is so thin and delicate, and so richly supplied with
blood-vessels, that, v?hen moistened, it readily admits of the interchange
of gases. During the breeding-season the abdomen of the female frog
is so distended by eggs that there is no room for the inflation of the
lungs, and respiration is entirely carried on through the skin.

In those marine and aquatic animals of small size whose bodies are
not covered by impervious shells, respiration may take place, as in
plants, over the whole surface of the body ; and in many groups, the
larger and protected members of which are furnished with highly-
specialized respiratory organs, these organs may be entirely wanting in
the smaller naked forms. This is the case, for instance, with many of
the naked moUusks.

In place of a closed system of vessels for the circulation of the
blood, this fluid may, in parts of its course, find its way through the
spaces among the viscera, and in the Tunicata a pulsating heart keeps
in motion a haemal fluid, which is nowhere confined by distinct blood-
vessels, but fills and circulates through all the intra-visceral spaces of
the body. In most mollusks, again, the musculur movements of the
various parts of the soft body aid the heart in maintaining the circu-
lation ; and in the Polyzoa both vessels and heart are lacking, and the
movements of the blood are due to muscular contractions, aided in
many cases by cilia.

The salivary glands are frequently wanting in marine animals ; the
water swallowed with the food taking the place of saliva. The liver
and other appendages to the digestive tract are wanting in many of the
lower animals, and a parasitic life may entirely do away with the need
for them, even in an animal which belongs to a highly-specialized group.
The ordinary gasteropod mollusks have digestive organs which are
almost as highly specialized as those of a vertebrate ; but " entocon-
cha," a strange parasitic gasteropod, has no jaws or teeth, no salivary
glands or liver, no anus, or any other specialized appendage to the
digestive cavity, which is a simple pouch, which is not divided into
oesophagus, stomach, and intestine, and the animal lives inside the body
cavity of a holothurian, attached to the wall of its stomach, and is'
nourished by the fluids which it sucks from the digestive cavity of its
host. In the sponges and hydroids there is no digestive cavity distinct
from the body cavity, and the food is received directly into the latter.
Even the mouth is wanting in many parasitic worms, and the liquid
food is absorbed through the outer surface of the body, precisely as in
plants, and some parasites put forth root -like processes which penetrate
the tissues of the host and absorb its juices.

The nervous system and organs of special sense are wantijig in
many of the lower animals, and in the fresh-water hydra the reproduc-
tive organs are not formed in specialized internal glands at definite
points, but resemble those of plants in making their appearance at
many points upon the surface of the body.

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 35

Many of the lower animals resemble plants in their mode of gro^yth,
as well as in simplicity of structure ; the colonies or clusters of the
compound hydroids, and the coral-making polyps, are very plant-like,
and, as they also lack the power of locomotion, their animal nature was
for a long time disputed, and they were classified as plants.

However much the body of one of the higher animals differs in gen-
eral form and structure from that of one of the higher plants, it is
plain, from the facts vvhich we have pointed out, that the two groups
cannot be absolutely and arbitrarily separated upon this basis, although
the general value of the distinction is obvious.

Histology furnishes another difference which is quite general but
not universal. There are well-marked and pretty constant contrasts
between the cells and tissues of the one group and those of the other,
and these contrasts furnish what is, perhaps, the most constant mor-
phological distinction. The constituent cells of the tissues of the
plant retain their original form and individuality, while, in the animal,
they undergo the greatest modifications, and their individuality is
usually entirely lost. A vegetable tissue or organ may easily be shown
to be made up of a mass of nearly similar cells, each of which is inde-
pendent and sharply defined; while the tissues of animals present the
greatest differences in structure and appearance, and sharply-defined
individual cells are seldom to be seen. The cause of this difference in
the appearance of the tissues is a difference in the cells themselves.
The protoplasmic contents of the vegetable cell are inclosed by a thick,
strong outer membrane or cellulose wall ; while the outer surface of the
animal cell is usually only a little more dense than the protoplasmic
contents, and does not usually form a distinct cell-wall. The vegetable
cell may, however, be destitute of the cellulose wall ; and, on the other
hand, many animal tissues — cartilage, for instance — resemble the tissues
of plants in being made up of independent cells, each of which has an
outer layer.

The most universal and characteristic difference between animals
and plants is physiological, and relates to the nature of the food and
the character of the nutritive process. From comparatively simple
inorganic substances, such as water, carbonic acid, and ammonia, the
plant is able to build up the highly-complex protein compounds which
are so characteristic of living beings. The animal feeds, in part, upon
inorganic substances, such as water, and certain carbonates and phos-
phates, but it derives all its protein from plants, either directly, or, as
in the case of the carnivorous animals, indirectly, through the aid of
vegetable-feeding animals. In the body of the animal the complex pro-
tein compounds are broken down into simpler substances, and the
energy thus set free is converted into the various manifestations of
" vital force." The animal organism is thus a consumer of protein and
a liberator of force. The vital activities of the plant depend, like
those of the animal, upon the liberation of energy by the breaking

36 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

down of protein compounds ; but, as the formation of new protein within
the body of the plant usually exceeds this consumjDtion, plants, as man-
ufacturers of protein, are broadly distinguished from animals. It is
now known, however, that many very highly-organized flowering plants
are carnivorous, and digest and make use of the protein of the animals
which they capture, and it is probable that the potato-fungus and many
other parasitic plants obtain all their protein ready made, like animals;
and, as it is imjDossible to show that none of the lower animals have
the power to make protein for themselves, this distinction cannot be
made the basis of an absolute line between the two groups.

The difference in the process of respiration in animals and plants is
well known. Animals while in a state of vital activity absorb oxygen
from the air ; and this is given off from their bodies, usually united
with carbon, as carbonic acid. The green plants, on the contrary,
absorb carbonic acid, which is separated by the chlorophyll, under
the influence of sunlight, into carbon, which is appropriated by the
plant, and oxygen, which is given off and may be again taken up by an
animal. This difference is made use of in the arrangement of an aqua-
rium ; enough green plants being placed in the water to absorb the
excess of carbonic acid given off by the animals, and to supply the
oxygen for their respiration. The difference is not by any means abso-
lute, however, since the vital changes of the plant are dependent, like
those of the animal, upon oxidation, and result in the formation of car-
bonic acid. The colorless plants, like animals, absorb oxygen and give
off carbonic acid. This is also true of green plants which are not ex-
posed to light ; but in the latter plants this process is normally masked
and hidden by the opposite process already spoken of.

It is plain, from what has been said, that the separation of organ-
isms into two great groups — animals and plants — is convenient and
natural, and that the distinctions between them are real but not abso-
lute; and it is possible to define, that is give, all the characteristics
which are distinctive of an animal, without implying or assuming that
all animals conform with the definition to the same degree, or that no
plant shares any of the characteristics. Since the lower representatives
of the two groups resemble each other more closely than the higher
forms, and since all positive characteristics gradually disappear as we
approach the point of union or origin, we must, in order to give our
definition any definiteness whatever, neglect the lowest and simplest
forms, and consider only the more specialized.

As shown by the highest forms, an animal may be described mor-
phologically as an organism made up of cells, which are usually without
a cell-wall or membrane. In the adult, the individualit}'- of these cells
is usually lost, since they are united to form membranes, tissues, and
fibres. In nearly all animals the tissues thus built up from cells fall
into four groups — epithelium, connective tissue, muscular tissue, and
nervous tissue.

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 37

The organs of the body are composed mainly of these tissues, and
present the greatest diversity of structure and function ; but they may
be roughly arranged, according to their functions, into four groups :
organs of nutrition, such as the digestive, circulatory, and respiratory
organs ; organs of reproduction, organs of motion, and organs of rela-
tion, such as the nervous system and sense-organs, and organs of de-
fense or protection, such as horns or spurs. Except among the lower
and simpler groups the individuals are not organically united, as in
plants, into a community, although such communities as pairs, or flocks,
or herds, are frequent. In such a community as a hive of bees the dif-
ferent individuals are specialized for the good of the whole, and are
unable to exist apart ; and the community is as real as in the case of a
plant, although the connection is not material, but purely ideal.

Physiologically, animals are characterized by the fact that, with few
exceptions, they are able to receive solid food into a definite internal
digestive cavity, in which it is digested, and then absorbed through the
wall of the cavity. They absorb oxygen from the surrounding medium,
air or water, and, in addition to certain inorganic substances, take into
their bodies, as their proper nutritive material, complicated protein
compounds, which they derive either directly or indirectly from plants.
Through the oxidation of these compounds they form substances of a
simpler chemical structure, such as carbonic acid, water, and ammonia,
and discharge these through their bodies as waste. Since the sum of the
chemical changes which take place in the animal is the breaking down
of the highly-complex protein-molecules, derived from plants, into the
simpler molecules of water, ammonia, and carbonic acid, it results that
the potential energy thus set free is shown by the animal as " vital
force," and the body of the animal is therefore a magazine or store-
house of force which may manifest itself as animal heat or light, or as
sensible motion, or nervous disturbance ; an animal, then, is an organ-
ism which has the power to change the potential energy of vegetable
protein by oxidation into " vital force," which may manifest itself as
animal heat, or, in the case of many marine animals, as light, or by
peculiar disturbances of the nerves and muscles, organs which are pecul-
iarly diagnostic of animals. The changes of the muscles result in mo-
tion, either of the animal as a whole or of the various parts in relation
to each other. The structure and functions of the nervous system of
one of the higher animals are so entirely different from any other phe-
nomena, that they seem to be sui generis and peculiar ; but we must
not forget that there are true animals which entirely lack a nervous
organization, and that in the history of each individual, as well as in the
history of the animal kingdom, we may pass without any considerable
break from animals with a complicated system of nerves and sense-
organs to animals which give no evidence of conscious life, and are no
more sensitive than ordinary plants. The nervous system of an animal
may be roughly described as a regulative apparatus by which the vari-

38 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ous parts of the body are brought into relation -with each other, in such
a way that a disturbance or change in one part shall bring about in
another part the liberation of a certain amount of energy, which shall
result in change tending to bring the organism into harmony with the
conditions which determined the first change. In many cases the action
of the nervous system is accompanied by consciousness, and in the
higher animals it has a subjective existence as intelligence and volition.

Such, briefly stated, are the most important characteristics of ani-
mals as they are manifested by the higher representatives of the group,
and it is hardly necessary to call attention again to the fact that none
of them furnishes a basis for the absolute separation of animals and
plants, or to point out again that many of them are met with only in
the higher animals, while others are not confined to animals, but are
shared by some plants. The two groups are related to each other
somewhat like two streams which have, their sources in the same water-
shed, but flow in difi'erent directions, and through regions of difi'erent
characters. It is almost impossible to say whether the springs and
marshes among which they rise belong to one stream or the other, and
they may be connected with both ; but, as we pass from this common
source, the characteristics of each stream become more marked, until at
last their diff"erences, the result of the difi'erent conditions to which
they have been exposed, overbalance and sink the resemblances which
are due to their common source.

We must not suppose that this fact does away with the idea of the
essential diversity of animals and plants, or that the distinction between
them is any the less real and natural because they can be traced to a
common source, and cannot be absolutely defined. As much confusion
of ideas exists with reference to this point, it may not be out of place
to give an illustration, drawn from another field, to show that a distinc-
tion ma}- be real without being absolute :

A person in charge of a small library would find it easy to arrange
his books under a few headings : some being devoted to history or
science ; others to theology or philosophy ; others to fiction, poetry,
and so on. In most cases the placing of a book would present no
difficulty ; but, as the size of the collection increased, works would be
met with Avhich, though devoted to history, were in part fictitious,
and many works of fiction would be found to be historical. Novels
would be met with, the aim of which is the exemplification of some
psychological, physiological, or religious truth ; and so with all the
other departments. Most of the new books could still be arranged
under headings as readily as in a smaller collection, but every increase
in the size of the library would render the inosculation of the various
departments of literature more apparent, and would increase the need
of a catalogue with cross-references. If the librarian did not confine
his attention to the books in his library, but studied the history of the
growth of literature, its embryology and paleontology, be would find

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 39

that departments which are now widely separated were once united,
and sprang from a common source. He would find that there had been
a time when all history and all theology were poetical, and all poetry
historical or theological ; that all romance was originally more or less
historical, and that all history or science was at first more or less
imaginary.

By the study of the less frequent and familiar forms of literature,
and by the history of its growth, he would, like the naturalist, learn
that his distinctions and classifications are only relative ; of great value,
indeed, but by no means absolute ; but he would not therefore conclude
that his groups are not real. He would not conclude that, because some
novels are historical, there is no such thing as a history and no such
thing as a novel, although he would perceive that they are connected
by intermediate forms, and have originated from a common source.

The fact that there is no arbitrary line between the groups of
natural objects, between animals and plants for instance, or between
two related species of animals, does not prove that the groups them-
selves have not a real existence. The differences between plants and
animals are real, and each group may be defined, but no definition can
embrace all the forms of one group, and exclude all of the other, any
more than a definition of fiction or of poetry can exclude all historical
works.

The things, like the words, are real ; but the definiteness of words is
very difi'erent from the indefiniteness and complexity of Nature.

PKOFESSOR TTNDALL BEFORE THE ENGLISH COPY-
RIGHT COMMISSION'

QUESTION ( Chairman). I believe you have published not onl^
, in England, but in the United States ?

Answer. I have published about a dozen volumes in England, and
most, if not the whole of them, have been reproduced in the United
States.

Q. With your sanction ?

A. With my sanction. I make an arrangement with my publishers,
the Messrs. Appleton, in New York, and they every year send me an
accoixnt of their sales, and allow me a certain percentage on the retail
price of my books,

Q. Now you have heard, I think, since you have been in this room,
the scheme which has been submitted to the consideration of this com-

' Tuesday, April lY, ISVY : Lord John Manners, M. P., in the chair. Members of the
commission present : Sir H. D. Wolff, Sir Julius Benedict, Sir James Stephen, Dr. William
Smith.

40 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mission, by which the existing law of copyright would be repealed and
the system of royalty established iu its place, under which a publisher
of the first edition of a new work would have what we may call a close
time of a year, and after that it would be open to any other publisher,
paying a fixed royalty to the author, to bring out new editions of that
work. Have you turned your attention to the probable operation of a
scheme of that sort, on the works, for instance, that you yourself have
published ?

A. I have given it some attention since the subject was first men-
tioned to me by a member of this commission, and I have listened to
the evidence oriven in this room since I came into it. In that evidence
I have heard over and over again beliefs expressed of what would occur
if the royalty scheme were to become law. These beliefs are to be
pitted against what we now know as certainties ; and taking everything
into account, I prefer the certainty now known to me to the beliefs ex-
pressed by the witness who preceded me. It would be in my opinion
a gross injustice, and might open a channel to interference of a still
more serious and sweeping character, if the rights of an author over his
hard-earned intellectual property were interfered with in the manner I
have heard indicated here.

Q. Now under the present law has it been your custom to part
with your copyright in the first instance, or only for a limited period ?

A. The first work that I ever published was given to an eminent
publisher ; and I was averse to making any arrangement whatever with
him. In those days I thought it in a measure imgentlemanly to bar-
gain or haggle with a publisher; and I left it to him to do what he
pleased with the volume. Subsequently, the Messrs. Longman, and
particularly Mr. William Longman, pressed me more than once to pub-
lish a volume of lectures, and about 1863 I agreed to do so. There
was at that time a subject of great and growing importance, regarding
which the English pubhc were entirely uninformed, though the public
intelligence was raised, I thought, to a sufficient level to profit by a
clear exposition. With very hard labor I accomplished a volume on
this subject. I felt myself free (and this is the liberty that I should
very much object to see limited in any way) to say to Mr. Longman
that I should regard him as a business-man ; that publishers were, to
my knowledge, very competent to take care of themselves, and that I
was determined, if he published a volume of mine, also to take care of
myself and meet him on business-terms. It was his wish that I should
do so, and we then and there entered into an agreement for a single
edition of the work. That has been my practice with Messrs. Longman
up to the present hour, I sell my books to them edition by edition,
always retaining the right to dispose as I please of the subsequent
editions of each work. The expenses of each edition — of printing,
paper, and advertisements — are added up, the book is priced by mutual
agreement, the profits are ascertained, and on the day of publication

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 41

I receive a certain proportion of those profits. I do this for the pur-
pose of detaching myself as much as possible from business questions
when the work is done.

Q. Under the present law you make your own arrangements for
the sale of each edition. ?

A. I do.

Q. And under the proposed change of the law, as you apprehend
it, instead of your having the freedom to do that and make an arrange-
ment on your own terms with your publisher, the law would step in
after the first edition and insist upon a certain rate of remuneration
being afforded 3'ou by any publisher who chose to take your work and
publish a new edition of it ?

A. That is the impression that I have received of the proposed
scheme, and I conceive that nothing can be more unfair. I think it
would be simply flagitious to interfere with the rights of an author to
that extent.

Q. [Sir J. Benedict). Could you imagine any change in the law
which you would propose to facilitate the acquirement by the public
of works of such a character as you write yourself, or would it be pos-
sible to make the agreement such that the price of the books, which
now is the great bar to their popularity in the first instance, could be
lowered without injury to the author and to the publisher ?

A. That is a subject on which at the moment I should not like to
offer an opinion. I am here speaking of an author's rights over the
produce of his own hard work. I may perhaps refer to a fact that was
brought to my mind by the examination of the gentleman who pre-
ceded me. I think it perfectly fair for an author, if he thinks fit, to
write a work that appeals to the wealthier classes of the community.'
I wrote a little book some years ago called " Faraday as a Discoverer,"
in which I gave a sketch of Faraday's life and work. The book was
published at 6s. or 7s. ; it is a small book ; I gave myself great trouble
to write it, and the edition was very soon sold. Many of my friends
urged upon me that it was almost a duty for me, and that for the pub-
lic it would be a boon if a cheap edition of that book were published.
It was accordingly published at the price of 3s. Qd., but the sale of
that book was by no means so rapid or so remunerative as the sale of
the dearer one had been.

Q. (Sir H. D. Wolff). In regard to that book, will you forgive my
asking you, do not you think that the reason why the sale of the cheap
edition at 3s. Qd. was slower than of the edition at 6s. was owing- to the
two prices being rather near each other ; there is not that enormous
gap between the prices that there is, for instance, between 25s. and ds. ?
A. Tliat is true ; but I should not be inclined to ascribe the slower
sale of the cheaper book to the smallness of the gap. I think the first

* Mr. Gould, for example, wrote books on birds so sumptuously illustrated, that none
but the wealthy could buy them.

42 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

book appealed to a highly-intelligent class, that associated with their
intelligence the means of purchasing the book, and they did purchase
it. Had the book been published in the first instance at 3s. 6f7., no
doubt that same class of buyers would have purchased the book, but it
would certainly have been at my personal loss.

Q. Perhaps that may be the case ; but if you had published it ori-
ginally, instead of at Gs., at a higher price, do not you think that prob-
ably 3'our sale would not have been as large as it was at 6s. ?

A. That I cannot say. I always have a conversation with my pub-
lisher on these matters, and I defer very much to his knowledge.

Q. But at once by publishing at 6s. you addressed yourself to a
public who could afford 6s., instead of to a public only who could afford
a higher price. Many people could pay ^s. who could not pay 12s. 6(7. ?

A. I assume authors to possess a certain amount of conscience ; and
if Mr. Longman had proposed to me to publish that book at 12s. Qd., I
should have objected to the jDrice. Considering the amount of labor I
had invested in the book, I should not have allowed him to publish it
at 12s. Qd.

Q. That is because you are an exceptionally conscientious man
perhaps ?

A. Speaking for myself, I certainly should have prohibited that. •

Q. You mentioned that you considered that the plan that we have
been discussing with the last witness would be an interference with
your rights. May I ask you exactly to define what you think your
rights are? I will tell you why I ask you that ; it is this, I want to
know whether your rights are rights of remuneration, or rights of con-
trol over the publication, that is to sa}^, the type in which it is to be,
or the particular form in which it is to be published ?

A. I am speaking altogether of rights of remuneration. An illus-
tration occurs at the present moment. I am now engaged on the sixth
edition of my book on "Heat," and I really intend to go in a few days
to the Messrs. Longman and to say, " I think that, considering your
labor and mine, we ought to have another arrangement, and that 1 ought
to receive a higher proportion of the profits than I have hitherto re-
ceived. You know it is open to me to go to another publisher, and
you also know that I shall have no difficulty in obtaining the terms
which I now offer to you." I regard it as my undoubted right, con-
sidering the labor I have expended on those works, to take them to the
best market. If Longman does not give me my terms I should like
to have the liberty of going to Macmillan, Chapman & Hall, Mr. Henry
King, or Mr. Murray. That is the right I claim.

Q. You stand in a far better position toward Mr. Longman than an
unknown man would ?

A. I dare say ; but I have had to raise myself into that position by
very hard work.

Q. You said just now that these were only " beliefs " that we had.

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 43

You think that the system now proposed would not act as advantage-
ously as the present system does ; that is only putting one belief against
the other, is it not ?

A. Irrespective of beliefs I object to my liberty of action being in-
terfered with. Even if I felt sure that I should lose nothing by the
proposed change, I should still fight for my liberty of action.

Q. Now I am going to ask you a question which you can answer
or not, as you like. Are your books published in America at a cheaper
rate than the}^ are in England?

A. It will perhaps be best to answer by definite examjoles. My
volume on " Sound " was published at 9s. in England, and at 8s. 4f?. in
the United States. A little volume entitled " Forms of Water " was
published at 5s. in this country, and 6s. dd. in the States. " Heat "
was published at 10s. Qd. in this country, and at 8s. 4c?. in the States.
Considering the price of labor in America, I should have inferred that
books there were dearer than here, but on the whole my books appear
to be somewhat cheaper in the States than in England. It should not,
however, be forgotten that I usually send them stereotyped from my
printer here to my publishers in New York, and that some of them have
been published in a smaller form in America than here.

Q. May I ask if the percentage that you receive (if it is not a liber-
ty to ask the question) in America on your books is as large as it would
be if you had copyright in America, this voluntary percentage that they
give you ?

A. I cannot say, but I should be inclined to think so, because I am
in the hands of a most high-minded publisher. I believe that T should
gain no advantage by the copyright in America that I do not possess
at present. But though I should be unaffected, on public grounds I
hold that a copyright ought to exist.

Q. Then there are illustrations, I suppose, in your books, are there
not?

A. Many of them are illustrated.

Q. Do you give them the plates of your illustrations, or do they re-
produce them ?

A. I send them over the plates of everything. I say, for instance,
to Messrs. Longman, " Messrs. Appleton will require stereotyped plates,
and also plates of the engravings of this book." The Longmans fix the
price of the plates and rec-eive it from the Appletons, and I am saved
any further trouble in the matter.

Q. Then 3'ou have a greater protection altogether than an ordinnrv
popular writer, inasmuch as in the first place you address yourself to
a particular class, which I suppose you do to a certain extent ?

A. Yes, undoubtedly.

Q. And in the second place you have the hold over your plates.
To pirate your books, supposing they did that against your will, they
would have to go to a great expense ?

44 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. No doubt to some extent, but the plates are not of that expen-
sive character that would deter a pirate. My chief safeguards are
that the Messrs. Appleton are very powerful publishers, and could af-
ford to undersell a rival, and that there is a kind of tacit understanding
among the larger publishers in America that the books published by
one should not be pirated by another.

Q. If Messrs. Appleton were not high-minded people they would
still have a difficulty in pirating your book, because they would find a
difficulty in getting the plates, you having the whole of the plates ?

A. Yes ; but that would apply equally to other publishers. The
plates have to be produced in England and paid for in England, and a
book that pays for plates in England would pay for thein in America.
They could not perhaps produce the books so cheaply as they now do
if they had to produce the plates.

Q. Is your circulation larger in America than in England ?

A. I could not say so. I have been assured over and over again
that it is very large.

Q. I fancy your books are not books much read in circulating libra-
ries ; they are more books which people would study, are they not ?

A.. My first book that related to the Alps and glaciers might have
got into the circulating libraries ; but I do not remember to have seen
any of my more strictly scientific works in them.

Q. {Dr. Smith.) We are right then in supposing that you object
entirely to the legislature interfering by any enactment with your
books, and that you prefer to make your own bargain with your own
publisher ?

A. I should like to be able to express to you the strength of my
objection to any such interference. I hold my right to my own intel-
lectual work to be at least as sacred as is the right of my excellent
friend, whose propositions have been discussed here, to Abinger Hall.

-♦-•-»-

DKINKING-WATEE EEOM AGRICULTUKAL LANDS.

By J. A. JUDSON, C. E.,

MEMBEE OF THE AITEEICAN SOCIETY OF OIVIL EXGIJTEERS, FELLOW CF THE AMERICAN GEO-

GEAPHICAL SOCIETY, ETC.

LITTLE as it appears to be appreciated, there is to-day no question
of sanitary science of greater vital importance than that of the
quality of the water-supply entering into the daily domestic economy.
The requirements and refinements of modern civilization demand not
only a plentiful but a profuse supply of water, and at a moderate cost —
facts long ago recognized and acted upon. While enormous capital and
the best engineering talent have been very generally called upon, both

DRINKING-WATER FROM AGRICULTURAL LANDS. 45

in this country and in Europe, to economically furnish water in ample
quantity, a corresponding degree of skill and enterprise has not always
been directed to the determination of its quality.

It is not impossible to point out authorities on sanitary matters so
wedded to pet theories that they unhesitatingly deny that the conver-
sion of a pure running stream, or even a large river, into a conduit for
the sewag€-filth of a great city, will have any deleterious effect on the
potable quality of the water taken a few milesbelow the filth-entering
point. It has been demonstrated that this is not only false in theory
but also in fact. It was Dr. Letheby, of the English « Royal Commis-
sion on the Water-Supply of London," it is believed, who was the first
to announce what has since been proved a fallacy, viz., that " if sewage
be mixed Avith twenty times its volume of river-water, the organic mat-
ter which it contains will be oxidized and completely disappear while
the river is flowing a dozen miles or so;" and further, that "it is safe
to drink sewage-contaminated water after filtration." The " Royal
Rivers Pollution Commission" of 1868, unwilling that this expression
of opinion should remain untested, submitted it to careful and ingen-
ious experimental investigation. The result is thus announced : . . .
" It is thus evident that so far from sewage mixed with twenty times
its volume of water being oxidized during a flow of ten or twelve miles,
scarcely two-thirds of it would be so destroyed in a flow of one hundred
and sixty-eight miles, at the rate of one mile per hour, or after the lapse
of a week." And, after mentioning certain details in support of this,
the commissioners conclude with the remark that " it will be safe to
infer, however, from the above results, that there is no river in the
United Kingdom long enough to effect the destruction of sewage by
oxidation." Dr. Frankland, an eminent English authority, before the
Royal Commission on Water-Supply, gives some strong testimony in
support of the statement that it is impossible to remove the sewage-
contamination from water by any known process, natural or artificial,
so as to render it harmless, except by boiling for a long time, or by
distillation ; and, as these two processes are impracticable on a large
scale, then, he says, in his opinion, " water that has once been contami-
nated by sewage ought not afterward to be used for domestic pur-
poses ; and, inasmuch as it is generally believed that the noxious matter
of sewage exists there in the form of minute germs, which are proba-
bly smaller than blood-globules, I do not believe that even filtration
through a stratum of chalk could be relied upon to free the water per-
fectly from such germs." iVccording to the same authority, "the
noxious part in sewage is that which is held in mechanical suspension,
not held in solution;" and yet, he says, and truly, "no system of filtra-
tion will secure its removal." Colonel J. W. Adams, C. E., in a valu-
able paper on river-pollution,* follows up this subject to its logical con-

1 " Report on Water-Supply for the City of Philadelphia," made by a commission of
cn2;itieers in 1875.

46 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

elusions. Dr. Folsom, in the " Report of the State Board of Health of
Massachusetts for 1876," also attacks this branch of the question, re-
marking that " excessive dilution simply dhninishes the chances of
danger from any particular tumblerful." He here states a case of
transmission of disease in dilute sewage, to which special attention is
invited, as showing quite conclusively the fatal result ensuing from
reposing too great faith in the extermination of disease-germs by oxi-
dation, and of reducing the chances of transmitted disease by diffusion
of disease-germs through a large body of running water. Dr. Folsom
says : " The most striking case illustrating this law is one reported by
Dr. E. D. Mapother, of Dublin. Forty cases of typhoid fever occurred
in a liospital which received its supply from a river. The cause was
traced to some barracks tioenty-five miles higher up, from which ty-
phoidal dejections had been emptied through drains into the river."

It would be easy to multiply authorities on this point. Suffice it to
say that this pernicious theory is happily exploded, and that the Second
English Rivers Pollution Commission publish conclusions, based on the
examination of some two thousand samples of water claimed to be
drinkable, condemning river-water because it is liable to contamination
from drainage of eidtivated land, towns, and manufactories. They
state that " the admixture of even a small quantity of these infected
discharges (of persons suffering from cholera or typhoid fever) with a
large volume of drinking-water, is sufficient for the propagation of
those diseases among persons using such water." The case related by
Dr. Folsom, previously quoted, as well as numberless others of a similar
sort, proves the accuracy of this conclusion.

The English commissioners then classify potable waters as follows,
and, when we consider the high authority for this scale of "wholesome-
ness, it would seem that it should carry great weight with it. Though
often published before, it cannot be too frequently repeated :

[1. Spring- water.
Wholesome. \ 2. Deep-well water.

I 3. Upland surface-watar.
(Very palatable.)
c ( 4. Stored rain-water.

IS C SP I CI O T ' S -

( 5. Surface-water from cultivated land.

(Moderately palatable.)

T^ (6. River-water to which sewaG;e gets access.

Dangerous. -^ ^ ^, „ „ ° ^

i 7. Shallow-well water.

While wholesale river-pollution from any source is utterly inad-
missible on any sanitary grounds, so infinitesimal pollution by dilute
sewage, indirectly discharged into the water-course, is equally danger-
ous, and attended with sure though more remote fatal results, " espe-
daily if human excreta he present in any form ichatever.'''' The whole
subject is intimately connected, but it is to this latter point more
particularly that this paper leads, as touching the pollution of entire

DRINKING-WATER FROM AGRICULTURAL LANDS. 47

water-basins through the application of organic manure to their gather-
ing-surfaces, for agricultural purposes, and the consequent pollution of
the water derived therefrom.

It is well known that many years ago the pollution of the water-
courses began to excite public attention in England, and the labors of
the several " Rivers Pollution Commissions," and other sanitary com-
mittees organized by authority of Parliament, bear testimony in their
elaborate and invaluable reports to the truth that humanity can no
lono-er afford to ijmore that foul water will breed disease. The dense
population of England, and the resultant mass of concentrated filth,
have there compelled attention to those laws of health that we, with our
enormous area of comparatively thinly-settled country, and the conse-
quent high dilution of foul water and foul air, have felt safe in disre-
garding. This feeling of safety is, however, fallacious; for, as facts
attest, "filth-diseases" are as liable to break out in an isolated house
as in a crowded city, if the fundamental hygienic laws are violated.
The distino-uished labors of the State Board of Health of Massachusetts,
as well as those of various other similar boards, bring the subject home
to us in a forcible manner, and the sooner we know what sort of water
we are drinking the better for us and for those who succeed us.

As fair water is at once a prime necessity and a priceless blessing,
so foul water is a scourge and curse ; nor will any but a sewage-rectify-
ing enthusiast hesitate for an instant which to choose, provided he has
the means of knowing one from the other. Gross pollution is sensible
to the sight, the taste, the smell, and we instinctively revolt ; lesser
pollution, though perhaps not apparent to any of the senses, yields its
secret to the chemist's skill; while infinitesimal pollution eludes all,
even the art of the chemist himself, revealing its presence only in its
fatal effects, the mortality statistics proving the presence of that subtile
poison chemical analysis is powerless to detect. Special stress should
be laid on this latter point, because the popular cry generally is, where
water is suspected, " Let's have it analyzed ! " whereas the truth is,
beyond a certain point, the chemist can tell us nothing at all about it.
Sir Benjamin Brodie, in speaking of the detection of infinitesimal pol-
lution, says :"...! think you have a much better chance of getting
at these relations through accurate medical statistics, properly applied,
than you have through chemical analysis, because chemical analysis is
one of tlie poorest things possible to reach those delicate quantities.
You cannot get at those small quantities at all ; chemical analysis must
be limited by our power of weighing and measuring. We can only do
those two things. We can weigh and we can measure, and we can do
that with certain accuracy, and there we stop ; but that accuracy is
not capable of being multiplied ad infijiitum. It may go on to a cer-
tain point, but we cannot go beyond that point."

Having once determined in what pollution consists, then any sus-
picious water should be unhesitatingly condemned. Colonel Adams

48 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

says (in the paper previously quoted), " Grounds for distrust in deter-
mining the purity of water are grounds for its rejection, especially
when brought into comparison with water from a source of undoubted
purity."

It has been objected that no water outside the laboratory is abso-
lutely "pure ;" that water ordinarily available for town-supply is only
relatively pure, and that too high a degree of purity must not be ex-
pected, lest the cost of the works be too great a public burden. This
is true, abstractly, yet who will have the temerity to draw the line and
say : " Our town can and must stand such and such a death-rate, but
no more ; let us risk it and take our water from this contaminated pond
close by, and let the death-rate be so and so, rather than spend so many
thousands more in bringing pure living water from the everlasting
hills miles away, and thus reduce our death-rate to the minimum ! "

The question of cost should never for a moment weigh against the
question of purity of quality. Foul, though apparently pure, water
may be the cheaper in the beginning, but it will surely be the dearer
to the community in the end, when it is remembered that health and
life itself tremble in the balance. Cost and quantity should not be
underrated, certainly, neither should quality. It is the frequent neglect
of this latter element of calculation, in designing works for the water-
supply of towns, that results in the frightful epidemics usually and
impiously attributed to the " mysterious dispensations of Providence,"
rather than to human ignorance, or cupidity, or negligence. Recently
an English clergyman acitually preached to his j^arishioners that a dev-
astating fever among them was a visitation from God upon them in
punishment for their sins, while at the same time a gentleman, writing
to the authorities to complain of the water-supply, dipped his pen in,
and wrote with water from the river instead of ink !

Setting aside now all other sources of water-contamination, let us
see what the best authorities say would be the effect on the quality of
drinking-water derived from agricultural lands enriched with organic
manures, and especially that manure which consists largely of human
excreta from privy-vaults and the contents of house cesspools.

Two propositions may here be stated that are perfectly sustained
by proof :

1. Any organic matter will poison water, and is not removable ex-
cept by boiling or distillation.

2. Hmnan excremental matter is the most dangerous organic sub-
stance likely to be contained in privy-vaults or cesspools, and its viru-
lence is largely increased when it consists partly of the excrementitious
matter of cholera and fever patients.

We will take as an example a compactly-built tov.'n of some fifteen
thousand inhabitants. Each habitation has its one or more privy-

DRINKING-WATER FROM AGRICULTURAL LANDS. 49

vaults and cesspools, some of which overflow into the few rude sewers
built without any systematic plan, and themselves but " elongated
cesspools," or, as some one pertinently calls them, " retorts for the
generation of poisonous gases." A large majority of these sinks of
abominations have no communication with any sort of sewer, but after
prolonged conservation, resulting in horrible putrefaction, when no
longer tolerable, are finally emptied by hand into carts and hauled
away. Adjoining the town is the gathering-ground of the w^ater-
works of thousands of acres in extent, whose waters, discharged into
running streams in a long valley, are collected and retained in a
dammed-up pond at the foot, and pumped to the distributing reservoir
on a neighboring hill. Water-works and sewerage systems should go
hand-in-hand ; but in this case there is no connection — the latter, in-
deed, existing only in name. Even this state of things might be toler-
able, were it not that, in addition to poisoning the air and the already
supersaturated soil, the contents of these vaults are now directly em-
ployed to pollute the water-supply. Destitute of any official control,
probably more than one-half of the accumulated town filth is annually
spread bodil}'-, spring and fall, over a large part of the water-shedding
surfaces. The tank-carts employed are at all hours of the day filled at
the doorways of the houses, and shamelessly hauled through the public
streets, jolting and slopping their foul contents, marking their route by
a train of filth on the roadway, while a column of stench in the air,
that lingers long after the pestilence-breeding ox-cart has lumbered
away in the distance, proclaims adherence to the practices of the dark
ages, and defiance to the rules of decency and the laws of health. A
century ago, when there was no generally-known method of deodoriz-
ing sewage or decently removing it, this sort of thing had to be done,
perhaps, but it instinctively sought the cover of nightfall (as the very
term " night-soil " implies) ; but in this incredible case, in the last
quarter of the brilliant nineteenth centurj^, in the midst of a civilized
community, there is no attempt to disguise the abominable fact !

The water-slopes are thus heavily manured. What is the result ?
We shall see.

These farms are very rich and valuable, made so at the expense of
the water they shed for domestic use. But this sort of fertilizing must
not be confounded with what is known as " sewage-farming," a system
of irrigation which is declared by the highest authorities to be the
best, cheapest, safest, and most inoffensive mode of disposing of all
excrementitious and other waste matter, ^^ provided its efiluent water
does not get into the domestic water-supply." The scope of this article
will not admit even a brief description of this mode of irrigation (not
manuring), with its appliances of brick, concrete, and earthenware con-
duits, its valves and sluice-boards, and its trained and careful administra-
tive corps of workmen efficiently supervised. Those interested in this
subject (and which is a side-issue here) can consult the " Conditions of

VOL. XIV. — 4

50 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. ■

Sewage-Farming " as stated by the First Rivers Pollution Commission
of England, and reprinted, with much other valuable information ap-
pertaining, in the " Report of the Massachusetts State Board of Health
for 1876 " (pages 276-408), in a paper by Dr. C. F. Folsom, on " The
Disposal of Sewage." Many modes of " disposal " are herein described,
but such " disposal " as this — sowing pestilence broadcast — was never
contemplated by any one. Of course it can be prevented, but it is not
proposed to discuss that matter now.

Now, these organically manured slopes are, many of them, very
steep, varying, by actual measurement, from one in seven to one in fifty,
and flatter. When the heavy rains of spring and fall occur, the effluent
water from those slopes is dilute sewage, dilute human excrement, and,
especially if the land has been recently ploughed, a large quantity of
the surface-soil, and with it the freshly-applied Imman excreta, and the
remaining noxious parts of the previously-applied batch of filth still
present in the soil, must necessarily be, and is, washed down-hill and
into the water-supply of the town. The English scientific periodical
Engineering records that, early in the spring of 1876, " the piers of
Vauxhall Bridge were coated with a covering of upward of a foot deep
of soil, brought down from the upper portion of the Thames during one
tide, and this minor instance is but a slight indication of the enormous
deposits cast into our (British) rivers through the washing of the sur-
face-soil from the adjacent fields. . . . The water, before being drawn
into the Thames companies' reservoirs, was loaded consequently with
soil, manure, sewage, and every imaginable abomination that newly
ploughed and manured fields and towns could supply."

Of course, this pollution was on a larger scale than could occur in
the case here treated. Nevertheless, if the quantity of polluting mat-
ter be less, so is the volume of water polluted, hence the proportion of
foulment may be approximately the same. At any rate the fact re-
mains that the water is contaminated, and, as has been already shown,
infinitesimal may be quite as fatal as profuse pollution.

The elements that go to make dilute sewage unfit for assimilation
in man, especially fit it for plant-food, a fact well known to every gar-
dener. Dr. Folsom says that " a celebrated horticulturist in Brighton,
England, dilutes his manure until it has neither taste nor smell." If
such attenuated " barn-yard cofibe " can have manurial efi'ect on vege-
tation, what physiological efi'ect — pathologic and hygienic — would it
be likely to have when employed as a beverage ? This very question
is answered in a report to the English " General Board of Health "
in 1856, the substance of which is as follows : "... It is now gener-
ally admitted that the substances which constitute the organic matter
of water act injuriously, b}^ no means (necessarily) in consequence of
being poisonous themselves, but by undergoing those great processes
of transformation called decay and putrefaction, to which all vegetable
and animal matter is subject, when no longer under the control of vi-

DRINKING-WATER FROM AGRICULTURAL LANDS. 51

talit}', either in plants or animals. These putrefactive processes either
give rise to the formation of poisonous bodies, or they act simply as
ferments, generating similar processes of decomposition in the sub-
stances composing the animal organism."

The " controlling vitality " of plants and man have widely differing
requirements : what is food to one is to the other poison, and sewage-
polluted water is just what the Brighton gardener uses.

Dr. Corfield says, in a lecture before the Royal School of Military
Engineering at Chatham, that "... mere passage over the soil will
not purify sewage satisfactorily. The effluent water which goes off the
land is, to all intents and purposes, sewage.'''' And Mr. Denton, a dis-
tinguished engineer and scientist, says, in a lecture before the same
school, that "... water collected from the surface of cultivated lands,
and from the under-drains of cultivated lands, is always more or less
polluted with the organic matter of manure, even after subsidence in
lakes or reservoirs.''"' Shallow-well water is declared by the Rivers Pol-
lution Commissioners to be the most dangerous of all waters, " when-
ever the wells are situated, as is usually the case, near privies, drains,
and cesspools ; " and it is this shallow-well water that Denton refers to
when he goes on to say the commissioners declare that " such polluted
surface or drainage water (referred to above) is not of good quality for
domestic purposes, but it may be vised with less risk to health than
polluted shallow-well water, if human excrementitious matters do not
form part of the manure applied to the land." Mark this, on the
highest authority, that shallow-well water, the most dangerous stored
well-water known, is safer to drink than the effluent water from such
slopes as this article describes. When it is added that the Royal Com-
missioners, having examined the waters of some four hundred and twelve
shallow wells in different geological formations, pronounce them all,
with few exceptions, " entirely unfit for human consumption," the force
of the objections raised against the water from the foul slopes may be
appreciated.

It may be suggested that filtering be resorted to, or the sewage
" disinfected," as some are pleased to call certain processes. But the
English commissioners say that " as applied to sewage, disinfectants
do not disinfect, and filter-beds do not filter. Both attempts have been
costly failures." And again they say, " No process has yet been de-
vised of cleansing surface-water once contaminated with sewage, so as
to make it safe for drinking." To this the late Mr. Kirkwood, the dis-
tinguished American engineer, adds, " . . .If this view of the case may
seem to be over-cautious, it is to be remembered that the poison, how-
ever trifling, is taken daily, and that, although when in robust health
the individual will not suffer from it, it may be sufficient to make itself
felt when he is prostrated by sickness, and his powers of resistance to
such influences are then proportionally impaired."

It has been supposed that if the sewage be applied to these slopes

52 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

while the ground is frozen, the greater part, at least, will percolate into
the earth, owing to the higher temperature of the sewage and the heat
disengaged by continued fermentation, and so be out of harm's way be-
fore the advent of the thaws and rains of spring. It has been proved
by experiments in Maine, with the thermometer at 0° Fahr., that the
sewage disappears soon after it is applied. It would be safer, no doubt,
but the " brown scum," which, it is said, remains on the surface, w^ould
be thrown down by the spring rains, and other poisonous matter would
follow as soon as the plough broke the surface. The danger might,
perhaps, be diminished, as in the case of dilution in running water —
nothing more.

Too much stress cannot be laid on the death lurking in all manner
of human excreta, especially those of the sick. Dr. Folsom, the Secretary
of the Massachusetts State Board of Health, and one of the first sanitary
authorities, says : " In no case is it entirely safe to drink water which
has once been contaminated with human excreta containing the germs
of disease, unless it has been exposed-to a suflSciently high temperature
or has stood long enough for these ' germs ' to become inert. How long
this time must be, we do not yet know." And again he says that,
" under certain conditions, human excrementitious matter in certain
diseases is almost certain poison, producing the parent-disease in great
numbers of cases of those exposed to it, with a degree of virulence pro-
portional to its concentration."

The cases on record sustaining this are numerous ; two very strik-
ing ones must suffice here :

Colonel George E. Waring, Jr., in his " Sanitary Drainage of Houses
and Towns," relates the case of an outbreak of " filth-fever " in Over-
Darwin, England, a few years ago. " The first case," he says, " was an
important one, occurring in a house some distance from the town. The
patient had contracted the disease, came home, and died with it. . . .
The drain of the closet used by this patient emptied itself through the
irrigating channels of a neighboring field. The water-main of this
town passed through this field, and, although special precautions had
been taken to prevent any infiltration of sewage into the main, it was
found that the concrete had sprung a leak, and allowed the contents of
the drain to be sucked freely into the water-jDipe. The poison was
regularly thrown down the drain, and as regularly passed into the
water-main of the town. . . . Within a short period 2,035 people were
attacked, and 104 died."

The "Massachusetts State Board of Health Report for 1877" re-
cords an epidemic of typhoid fever which occurred at Eagley, in England,
in 1876. The report says : " A certain small brook had been used by
the operatives of a mill, so that ' large quantities of fecal matter ' were
found on its banks and in its bed. It was known, too, that one of the
workmen was ill (it was thought that there was a possibility of the dis-
ease being typhoid fever). This brook had formerly been used, two

DRINKING-WATER FROM AGRICULTURAL LANDS. 53

hundred yards below, for domestic purposes, but had generally been
abandoned since it had become impure, although two families continued
to use it, of whom one had typhoid fever, and the other (who boiled it
before use) escaped. This same water continued to be used at a dairy,
and was the only supply there. Although there is no positive evidence
that the milk was diluted with it, it was acknowledged that the milk-
cans were washed in it.

"From January 30th .... to February 15th, 146 persons were
attacked, when the epidemic declined."

After giving further details it is stated that in the town of Bolton,
two miles distant, " there were fifty families attacked, of whom forty-seven
were supplied with milk from this same daii-y." The investigating offi-
cer reported that " not one household to which the milk was traced did
he find entirely free from the disease."

Liebermeister, an eminent authority, says, speaking of the spread
of typhoid fever through water-works : " Such infection of an aqueduct
is most easily effected when excrements from privies containing the
typhoid poison are used as manure on the fields from which the aque-
duct receives its supply. In this way originated the epidemic in Stutt-
gart in the year 1872."

Aside from the water we take into our stomachs, sanitation and sen-
timent alike demand that it should be wholesome. Denton says: "The
water used for personal ablution, and for the washing of the clothes we
wear, and the utensils we use in cooking, have a material though not
so direct an influence on our sanitary condition." The milk-can case
had not occurred when this was written, for, if that be true, he might
have put it still stronger.

We can safely conclude that it is the quality of the sewage-matter
that determines the character and virulence of its poisonous effects,
rather than the quantity of foul matter that may be present in the
drinking-water, the taint from the fecal matter of one sick person
creating wider-spread havoc than that from hundreds of those " that
need no physician."

Long before the milk-can case occurred, the English commissioners
said that " really there is no reason whatever to believe that the in-
jurious character of sewage depends, fundamentally, upon the quantity
of that sewage ; in all probability it far more depends upon the quality
of the sewage, namely, what it consists of."

As people generally have a vague idea of what sewage consists,
any further than that it is a nasty mess, it may be well, in closing this
article, to give the definition of the term " sewage " as applied by the
English Rivers Pollution Commissioners. It is " any refuse from
human habitations that may affect the public health. . . . Sewage is a
very complex liquid ; a large proportion of its most offensive matters
is, of course, human excrement discharged from water-closets and priv-
ies, and also urine thrown down gully -holes. But mixed with this

54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

there is the water from kitchens containing vegetable, animal, and other
refuse, and that from wash-houses containing soap and the animal mat-
ter from soiled linen. There is also the drainage from stables and cow-
houses, and that from slaughter-houses containing animal and vegetable
offal. In cases where privies and cesspools are used instead of water-
closets, or these are not connected with sewers, there is a still larger
proportion of human refuse in the form of chamber-slops and urine.
In fact, sewage cannot be looked upon as composed solely of human
excrement diluted with water, but as water mixed with a vast variety of
matters, some held in suspension, some in solution." In fact, were Ave to
fall into the habit of looking upon it and calling it 2^oiso7i, instead of
sewage, and treating it as we do any other poison, one step, at least,
will have been taken on the high-road to safety. Surely no civilized
community ought knowingly to use water polluted, no matter in what
degree, with such filth as this.

Denton says that from the report on the " Army and Navy Diet
Scales " he finds that " the estimated quantity of liquid of all kinds
drunk in the two services averages 187|^ gallons per head per annum,
or about two quarts per day. Though this quantity is drunk by adults
of the male sex, it is some criterion of the quantity drunk by men,
women, and children, and it will not be wrong to assume that two-
thirds, or 125 gallons per head, is as much as is actually consumed by
a mixed population in a year. Dr. Parkes says that an adult requires
daily from seventy to one hundred ounces (three and a half to five pints)
for nutrition, but about twenty to thirty ounces of this quantity are
sometimes in the solid food." This is what we daily put in our mouths,
and it certainly should be pure and sweet. In fact, one way or an-
other, we are pretty much all water. It is said that " the model man
weighs 154 pounds, of which 116 is water and only 38 pounds dry
matter ; " based on which fact, Edmond About has written a curious
romance, "The Man with the Broken Ear." Water, then, is of all
things the one most essential to our existence, and if three-quarters of
our very bodies and a large part of our daily food are composed of this
element, then, like Caesar's wife, it should be " clear even of suspicion."

Although, perhaps, there is no special occasion for it in this con-
nection, attention is invited, in the interest of accuracy, to the popular
misuse of the term " water-shed." ' It is ordinarily employed to denote
the area collecting the rainfall, and comprised between the highest and
lowest points. Properly speaking, a " water-shed " is " the anticlinal
ridge separating one river-basin from another." The highest crest-line
of a ridge, therefore, is the icater-shed / the lowest area in the valley
up to the highest water-level is the water-basin / while the area between
these (miscalled the water-shed) ma.y be termed the " gathering-ground,"
or the " collecting slopes."

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 55

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE.

By ALEXANDER BAIN, LL. D.,

PEOFESSOB IK THE XJNIVEKSITY OF ABEEDEEN.

VI.— THE EMOTIOI^S IN" EDUCATION" (continued).

I NOW proceed with the review of the Emotions as motives in
education.

Play of the Emotioxs of Activity. — Nothing is more frequently
prescribed in education than to foster the pupils' own activity, to put
them in the way of discovering facts and principles for themselves.
This position needs to be carefully surveyed.

There is, in the human system, a certain spontaneity of action, the
result of central energy, independent of any ieelings that may accom-
pany the exercise. It is great in children ; and it marks special in-
dividuals, who are said to possess the active temperaiment. It distin-
guishes races and nationalities of human beings, and is illustrated in
the differences among the animal tribes; it also varies Avith general
bodily vigor. This activity would burst out and discharge itself in
some form of exertion, whether useful or useless, even if the result
were perfectly indifferent as regards pleasure or pain. We usually
endeavor to turn it to account by giving it a profitable direction, in-
stead of letting it run to waste or something worse. It expends itself
in a longer or shorter time, but while any portion remains, exertion is
not burdensome.

Although the spontaneous flow of activity is best displayed and
most intelligible in the department of muscular exercise, it applies also
to the senses and the nerves, and comprises mental action as well as
bodily. The intellectual strain of attention, of volition, of memory,
and of thought, proceeds to a certain length by mere fullness of power,
after rest and renovation ; and may be counted on to this extent as
involving nothing essentially toilsome. Here, too, a good direction is
all that is wanted to make a profitable result.

The activity thus assumed as independent of feeling is nevertheless
accompanied with feeling, and that feeling is essentially pleasurable :
the pleasure being greatest at first. The presence of pleasure is the
standing motive to action ; and all the natural activity of the system —
whether muscular or nervous — brings an effluence of pleasure, until a
certain point of depletion is arrived at.

If, further, our activity is employed productively, or in yielding
any gratification beyond the mere exercise, this is so much added to
the pleasures of action. If, besides the delight of intellectual exercise,
we obtain for ourselves the gratification of fresh knowledge, we seem
to attain the full pleasure due to the employment of the intellect.

56 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Much more, however, is meant by the gratification of the self-activity
of the learner. That expression points to the acquiring of knowledge,
as little as possible by direct communication, and as much as possible
by the mind's own exertion in working it out from the raw materials.
We are to place the pupil as nearly as may be in the track of the first
discoverer, and thus impart the stimulus of invention, with the accom-
panying outburst of self-gratulation and triumph. This bold fiction is
sometimes put forward as one of the regular arts of the teacher ; but I
should prefer to consider it as an extraordinary device admissible only
on peculiar occasions.

It is an obvious defect in teaching to keep continually lecturing
pupils, without asking them in turn to reproduce and apply what is
said. This is no doubt a sin against the pupil's self-activity, but rather
in the manner than in the fact. Listening and imbibing constitute a
mode of activity ; only it may be overdone in being out of proportion
to the other exercises requisite for fixing our knowledge. When these
other activities are fairly plied, the pupil may have a certain complacent
satisfaction in his or her own efficiency as a learner, and this is a fair
and legitimate reward to an apt pupil. It does not assume any inde-
pendent self-sufficiency ; it merely supposes an adequate comprehension
and a faithful reproduction of the knowledge communicated. The
praise or approbation of the master, and of others interested, is a
superadded reward.

Notwithstanding, there still remains, if we could command it, a ten-
fold power in the feeling of origination, invention, or creation ; but as
this can hardly ever be actual, the suggestion is to give it in fiction or
imagination. Now, it is one of the delicate arts of an accomplished
instructor to lay before his pupils a set of facts pointing to a conclu-
sion, and leave them to draw the conclusion for themselves. Exactly
to hit the mean between a leap too small to have any merit, and one
too wide for the ordinary pupil, is a fine adjustment and a great success.
All this, however, belongs to the occasional luxuries, the honhons, of
teaching, and cannot be included under the daily routine.

It is to be borne in mind that although the pride of origination is a
motive of extraordinary power, and in some minds surpasses every
other motive, and has a great charm even in a fictitious example, yet it
is not in all minds the only extraneous motive that may aid the teacher.
There is a counter-motive of sympathy, affection, and admiration, for
superior wisdom, that operates in the other direction ; giving a zest in
receiving and imbibing to the letter what is imparted, and jealously re-
straining any independent exercise of judgment such as would share
the credit with the instructor. This tendency is no doubt liable to run
into slavishness, and to favor the perpetuation of error and the stagna-
tion of the human mind ; but a certain measure of it is only becoming
the attitude of a learner. It accompanies a proper sense of what is the
fact, namely, that the learner is a learner, and not a teacher or a discov-

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 57

erer, and has to receive a great deal with mere passive acquiescence, be-
fore venturing to suggest any improvements. Unreasoning blind faith
is indispensable in beginning any art or science ; the pupil has to lay
up a stock of notions before having any materials for discovery or
orio-ination. There is a right moment for relaxing this attitude, and
assuming the exercise of independence ; but it has scarcely arrived while
the schoolmaster is still at work. Even in the higher walks of univer-
sity teaching, independence is premature, unless in some exceptional
minds, and the attempt to proceed upon it, and to invite the free criti-
cism of pupils, does not appear ever to have been very fruitful.*

Plat of the Emotions op Fine Art. — This is necessarily a wide
subject, but for our purpose a few select points will be enough. The
proper and principal end of art is enjoyment ; now, whatever is able to
contribute on the great scale to our pleasure, is a power over all that
we do. The bearings on education are to be seen.

The art-emotions are seldom looked upon as a mere source of en-
joyment. They are apt to be regarded in preference as a moral power,
and an aid to education at every point. Nevertheless, we should com-
mence with recognizing in them a means of pleasure as such, a pure
hedonic factor, in which capacity they are a final end. Their function
in intellectual education is the function of all pleasure when not too
great, namely, to cheer, refresh, and encourage us in our work.

There are certain general effects of art that come in well at the
very beginning. Such are symmetry, order, rhythm, and simple design
and proportion ; which are the adjuncts of the school, just as they
should be the adjuncts of home-life. Proportion, simple design, a cer-
tain amount of color, are the suitable elements of the school interior;
to which are added tidiness, neatness, and arrangement, among the
pupils themselves ; only this must not be worrying and oppressive.

In the exercise suited to infants, time and rhythm are largely em-
ployed.

Of all the fine arts, the most available, universal, and influential, is
music. This is perhaps the most unexceptionable as well as the cheapest
of human pleasures. It has been seized upon with avidity by the human

* It would lead us too far, although it might not be uninstnictive, to reflect upon the
evil side of this fondness for giving a new and self-suggested cast to all received knowledge.
It introduces change for the mere sake of change, and never lets well alone. It multiplies
variations of form and phraseology for expressing the same facts, and so renders all sub-
jects more perplexed than they need be ; not to speak of controverting what is estab-
lished, because it is established, and allowing nothing ever to settle. Owing to a dread
of the feverish love of change, certain works that have accidentally received an ascen-
dency, such as the " Elements " of Euclid, are retained notwithstanding their imperfections.
The acquiescent multitude of minds regard this as a less evil than letting loose the men
of action and revolution to vie with each other in distracting alterations, while there is
no judicial power to hold the balance. It is a received maxim in the tactics of legislation
that no scheme, however well matured, can pass a popular body without amendment ; it
is not in collective human nature to accept anything simpUciter, without having a finger
i& the pie.

5 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

race in all times ; so much so that we wonder how life could ever have
been passed without it. In the earlier stages it was united with poetry,
and the poetical element was of equal power with the musical accom-
paniment, if not of greater. As the ethical instructors of mankind
have always disavowed the pursuit of pleasure as such, and allowed
it only as subsidiary to morality and social duty, the question with leg-
islators has been what form of music is best calculated to educe the
moral virtues and the nobler characteristics of the mind. It was this
view that entered into the speculative social constructions of Plato and
Aristotle. Now, undoubtedly the various modes of music oj^erate very
differently on the mind : every one knows the extremes of martial and
ecclesiastical music ; and fancy can insert many intermediate grades.*

For the moment, a musical strain exerts immense power over the
mind, to animate, to encourage, to soothe, and to console. But the
facts do not bear us out in attributing to it any permanent moral in-
fluence ; nothing is more fugitive than the excitement of a musical
performance. Excepting its value as a substantive contribution to the
enjoyment of life, I am not able to afBrm that it has any influence on
education, whether moral or intellectual. Certainly, if it has any effect
in the moral sphere, it has none that I can trace in the sphere of intel-
lect. As a recreative variety in the midst of toil, it deserves every
encomium. In those exercises that are half recreative, half education-
al, as drill and gymnastic, the accompaniment of a band is most stimu-
lating. In the Kindergarten it is well brought in, as the wind-up to
the morning's work. But music during ordinary lessons, or any sort
of intellectual work, is mere distraction, as every one knows from the
experience of street bands and organs.

Excess in the pleasures of music, like every other excess, is un-
favorable to mental culture. But some of the baost intellectual men
that ever lived have been devotees of music. In the case of Luther it
seems to have been incorporated with his whole being ; Milton invoked
it as an aid in poetic inspiration. These were men Avhose genius large-
ly involved their emotions. But the musical enthusiasm of Jeremy
Bentham could have no bearing on his work, further than as so much
enjoyment.

Poetry is music and a great deal more. Its bearings are more nu-
merous and complicated. In the ruder stages of music, when it ac-
companied poetry, the main effects lay in the poetry. The poetic form
— the rhythm and the metre — impresses the ear, and is an aid to mem-

' Plato, in the "Republic," wisbing to train a vigorous and hardy race, interdicted
not simply the unfavorable musical strains, but the instruments most adapted to these.
He permits only the lyre and the harp, with the Pan's pipe for shepherds attending their
flocks ; forbidding both the flute and all complicated stringed instruments. Disallowing
the lugubrious, passionate, soft, and convivial modes of music, he tolerates none but the
Dorian and the Phrygian, suitable to a sober, resolute, courageous frame of mind ; to
which also the rhythm and movement of the body are to be adapted (Grote's " Plato,"
iii., 19C). *

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 59

ory ; whence it has been transferred from the proper themes of poetry
to very prosaic subjects by way of a mnemonic device. The subject-
matter of poetry comprises the stirring narrative, which is an enormous
power in human life, and the earliest intellectual stimulus in education.

Plat of the Ethical Emotion's. — The feelings called ethical, or
moral, from their very meaning, are the support of all good and right
conduct. The other emotions may be made to point to this end, but
they may also work in the opposite direction.

When the educator describes these in more precise and equivalent
phraseology, he generally singles out regard to pleasui'e and displeasure
of parents and superiors, together with habits or dispositions toward
obedience ; all of which is the result of culture and growth.

Any primitive feelings conspiring toward good conduct must be of
the nature of the sympathies or social yearnings ; which are called into
exercise in definite ways, well known to all students of human nature.
By far the most powerful stimulus to acts of goodness toward others
is good conduct on their side ; whoever can resist this is a fit subject
for the government of fear and nothing else. The law says, " Do unto
others as ye would that they should do unto you." The lower ground
of practice is, " Do unto others as they do unto you." This is as far as
the veiy young can reach in moral virtue.

It is too much to expect in early years generous and disinterested
impulses, unreciprocated. The young have little to call their own ;
they have no means. Their fortune is their free, unrestrained vivacity,
their elation, and their hopes. If they freely give up any part of this,
it is in consideration of equivalent benefits. They are susceptible of
being worked up to moments of self-renunciation, in which they may
commit their future irrevocably, without knowing what they are about.
But they cannot be counted on for daily, persistent self-restraint, will-
ingly encountered, unless there be some seen reward, present or in the
distance. It takes a good deal to bring any one even up to the point
of fair and full reciprocity of services in all things.

The Feelings as appealed to ix Discipline, — The survey that
has now been made of the sensibilities of the human mind available as
motives, prepares for the consideration of discipline in teaching. The
instructor finds that, in school moments and for school purposes, he has
to restrain all the unruly impulses and to overbear the sluggishness of
the youthful nature. To succeed in this requirement, many arts are
employed, corresponding to the wide compass of sensations and emo-
tions that agitate the human breast.

The question how to maintain discipline among masses of human
beings is of very wide application, and is therefore the subject of a
great variety of experiments. In the wide field of moral control, it in-
cludes a principal function of government, namely, the repression of
crime — a department that has lately received much attention. To col-
lect the lights furnished in each of the spheres where moral control has

6o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to be exercised, is to contribute to the illumination of each. There has,
undoubtedly, in former times been very great mismanagement in al-
most every one of the regions of repressive authority — in the state, in
the family, and in the school, in all which an excess of human misery
is habitually engendered by badness in the manner of exercising con-
trol. It is perhaps in the family that the mischief is most widely
spread and most baneful.

By degrees we have become aware of various errors that ran through
the former methods of discipline, in the several institutions of the state,
as well as in the family. We have discovered the evil of working by
fear alone, and still more by fear of coarse, painful, and degrading in-
flictions. We have discovered that occasions of oflFense can be avoided
by a variety of salutary arrangements, such as to check the very dis-
position to unruly conduct. We consider that a great discovery has
been made in regard to punishments, by the enunciation of the maxim
that certainty is more important than severity ; to which should be
added, proportion to the offense. We also consider that by a suitable
training, or education, the dispositions that lead to disorder and crime
can be checked in the bud ; and that, until there has been room for
such training to operate, the mind should not be exposed to tempta-
tion. We have become accustomed to lay more stress in cultivating
the amicable relations of human beings, all which tend to abridge the
sphere of injurious conduct on the part of individuals.

The consideration of discipline in education supposes the relation
of a teacher to a class, one man or woman exercising over a body of
pupils the authority requisite for the work in hand. Nevertheless, it is
not lost time to advert, in the first instance, to the maxims pertaining
to authority in general.

Authority, government, power over others, is not an end in itself;
it is but a means. Further, its operation is an evil ; it seriously abates
human happiness. The restraint upon free agency, the infliction of
pain on individuals, the setting up a reign of terror — all this is justified
solely by the prevention of evils out of all proportion to the misery
that it inflicts. This might seem self-evident, but is not so. The deep-
seated malevolence and lust of domination in the human mind makes
the necessity of government a pretext for excesses in severity and re-
pression ; to which must be added the opportunity of preying upon the
substance of the governed.

Mankind have had their eyes gradually opened to this state of
things; the philosophy of society now endeavors to formulate the lim-
its to authority, and to the employment of repressive severities. Not
only is it restricted to the mildest penalties that will answer its pur-
pose, but its very existence has to be justified in each case.

Authority is not necessary to every teaching relation. A willing
pupil, coming up to a master to be taught, is not entering into a rela-
tionship of authority ; it is a mere voluntary compact, terminable at

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 61

the pleasure of each. There is no more authority over the assemblies
of grown men to hear lectures than over the worshipers at church or
the frequenters of the play. There is nothing but the observance of
mutual toleration and forbearance so far as requisite to the common
good ; if this were grossly violated, there would be an exercise of
power either by the collective mass themselves, or by summoning the
constable to their aid. No authority is lodged in the lecturer, preacher,
or performer, to repress disturbances.

Authority first appears in the family, and is thence transferred with
modifications to the school. It is between these two institutions that
the comparison is most suggestive. The parent's authority is associ-
ated with sustenance, and has an almost unlimited range ; it is tem-
pered by affection, but this depends upon mutuality of pleasure-giving,
and supposes a limited number. The teacher's authority has nothing
to do with sustenance ; his is a duty undertaken for payment ; it is
subsidiary to the single object of teaching a definite amount of knowl-
edge ; it wants the requisites of affection ; the numbers are too great,
and the mutual concern too restricted. But affection is not wholly
excluded, and in certain well-marked cases it may play a part.

On the other hand, the family and the school have some important
agreements. They both deal with immature minds, for whom certain
kinds of motives are unsuitable. Neither can employ motives that are
applicable only to grown men and women ; they cannot appeal to con-
sequences in the distant and unknown future. Children do not realize
a remote effect, and they fail even to conceive many things that will
one day have great power over their conduct. To talk to them about
riches, honors, and a good conscience, is in vain. A half-holiday is more
to them than the prospect of becoming the head of a business.

The position of immaturity is attended with another peculiarity,
namely, that the reasons of a rule cannot always be made apparent.
Sometimes they can, if not to the younger, at least to the older chil-
dren. This is a highly-prized aid to obedience in every department of
government.

There are many important points of agreement in the exercise of
authority in every sphere — the family, the school, the relation of mas-
ter and servant, ruler and subject, whether in the state at large or in
any subordinate societies. For example :

1. Restraints should be as few as the situation admits of: the mul-
tiplication of grounds of offense is a great evil, and yet exceedingly
natural.

2. Duties and offenses should be definitely expressed, so as to be
clearly understood. This may not always be possible to the full ex-
tent, but should be always aimed at.

3. Offenses should be graduated according to their degree of hei-
nousness. This too needs clearness of discrimination and definite lan-
guage.

62 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

4. The application of punishment is regulated according to certain
principles, first clearly pointed out by Bentham.

5. Voluntary dispositions are to be trusted as far as they can go.

6. By organization and arrangement the occasions of disorder are
avoided. Quarrels are obviated by not permitting crowds, jostling,
and collisions. Dishonesty is checked by want of opportunity ; remiss-
ness, by the watchful eye and by definite tests of performance.

7. The awe and influence of authority are maintained by a certain
formality and state. Forms and ritual are adapted to all the operations
of law : persons in authority are clothed with dignity and inviolability.
The greater the necessity of enforcing obedience, the more stern and
imposing is the ritual of authority. The Romans, the greatest law-
giving people, were the most stately in their official rites. A small
portion of formality should accompany the slightest forms of au-
thority,

8. It is understood that authority, with all its appurtenances, exists
for the benefit of the governed, and not as a perquisite of the ruler.

9. The operation of mere vindictiveness should be curtailed to the
uttermost.

10. So far as circumstances allow, every one in authority should
assume a benign character, seeking the benefit of those under him,
using instruction and moral suasion so as to stave ofi" the necessity of
force. The efi'ect of this attitude is at its utmost when its limits are
clearly discerned and never passed.

11. The reasons for repression and discipline should, as far as
possible, be made intelligible to those concerned ; and should be ref-
erable solely to the general good. This involves, as a part of na-
tional education, a knowledge of the structure of society, as being a
regulated reciprocity among all its members, for the good of each and
of all.

The jDoints of comparison and contrast between the school and
family have been noted. The more special distinction of the school,
as compared with relations of authority in general, is resolvable into
its main object — instruction, for which the condition that needs to be
imposed is attention and application of mind, with a view to perma-
nent intellectual and other impressions. To evoke, charm, cajole, com-
pel this attitude, is the first aim in all teaching. The hostile influences
to be overcome are such as physical inability and exhaustion, irksome-
ness in the work, diversions and distractions from other tastes, with the
natural rebelliousness of human beings under authority.

The arts of proceeding are not the same for a single pupil, and for
a class. For the single pupil, individuality may be studied and ap-
pealed to ; for the class, individualities are not considered. The ele-
ment of number is an essential feature ; carrying with it both obstruc-
tions and aids, and demanding a very special manipulation.

It is in dealing with numbers that the teacher stands distinguished

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 63

from the parent, and allied to the wider authorities of the state ; ex-
ercising larger control, encountering greater risks, and requiring a
more steady hand. With an individual pupil, we need only such
motives as are personal to himself; with numbers, we are under the
harsh necessity of punishing for example.

Good physical surroundings are known to be half the battle. A
spacious and airy building ; room for the classes to come together and
depart without confusion or collision — these are prime facilities and
aids to discipline. Next is organization, or method and orderly ar-
rangement in all the movements ; whereby each pupil is always found
in the proper place, and the entire mass comprehended under the mas-
ter's glance. To this follow the due alternation and remission of work,
avoiding fatigue and maintaining the spirits and the energies while the
teaching lasts.

After the externals and arrangements come the methods and arts
of teaching, considered as imparting lucidity to the explanations, and
easing the necessary intellectual labor of comprehension. If to this
prime quality can be added extraneous interest or charm, so much the
better ; but not to be at the expense of clearness, the fii'st condition of
getting through the subject.

The personality of the teacher may be in favor of his influence : a
likeable exterior, a winning voice and manner, a friendly expression,
when relaxing the sternness of authority. This is the side of allure-
ment or attraction ; the other side is the stately, imposing, and digni-
fied bearing, by which the master can impersonate authority and be a
standing memento to the evil-disposed of the flock. It is seldom
given to one man or woman to display both attitudes in their highest
force ; but wherever, and to whatever extent, they can be assumed,
they constitute a barrier to disaffection and remissness.

Any prominent displays of swagger and self-conceit operate
against the teacher's influence, and incite efforts to take him down. It
is possible to temper authority with an unassuming demeanor.

Much, of course, depends upon tact : meaning by that a lively and
wakeful sense of everything that is going on. Disorder is the sure
sequel of the teacher's failure in sight or in hearing ; but, even with
the senses good, there may be absent the watchful employment of
them. This is itself a natural incapacity for the work of teaching ;
just as an orator is sure to fail if he is slow to discern the signs of the
effect that he produces on his audience. A teacher must not merely be
sensitive to incipient and marked disorder ; he must read the result of
his teaching in the pupils' eyes.

That quietness of manner that comes not of feebleness, but of re-
straint and collectedness, passing easily into energy when required, is
a valuable adjunct to discipline. To be fussy and flurried is to infect
the class with the same qualities ; unfavorable alike to repression and
to learning.

64 THU POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Any mistake, miscarriage, or false step, on the part of a teacher, is
for the moment fatal to his ascendency. Such things will happen and
they render undue assumption all the more perilous.

The stress of the teacher's difficulty lies in the heavings of a mass
or multitude. The working of human beings collectively is wholly
distinct from their individual action ; a new set of forces and influences
are generated. One man against a multitude is always in the post of
danger. As units in a mass, every individual displays entirely new
characters. The anti-social or malevolent passion — the delight in gain-
ing a triumjDh — which is suppressed in the individual as against a more
powerful individual, is reignited and inflamed in company with others.
"Whenever a simultaneous charge is possible, the authority of a single
person is as naught in the balance.

It is often said that the teacher should get the collective opinion on
his side — should, in short, create a good class-opinion. It is easier to
deserve success in this than to command it. The fear is that, till the
end of time, the sympathy of numbers will continue to manifest itself
against authority in the school. There will be occasions when the
infection of the mass is a stronghold of order, as when the majority
are bent on attending to the work, and are thwarted by a few disturb-
ers of the peace ; or when they have a general sympathy with their
teacher, and merely indulge themselves in rare and exceptional out-
bursts. While a teacher's merits may gain for him this position of
advantage, more or less, he is never above the risks of an outbreak,
and must be ready for the final resort of repression by discipline or
penalties. He may still work by soothing applications, gentle and
kindly remonstrance ; he may check the spread of disaffection by
watchful tactics, and by showing that he has the ringleaders in his eye ;
but in the end he must punish.

It is this position of constant preparedness for disorder, sometimes
in isolated individuals and sometimes in the mass, that demands an air
and manner betokening authority, and carrying with it a certain hau-
teur and distance ; the necessity for which is the stronger, as the war-
ring elements are more rife.

The discipline of numbers is impeded by two sorts of pupils:
those that have no natural liking for the subject, and those that are
too far behind to vmderstand the teaching. In a perfectly-arranged
school both sorts would be excluded from a class. — Author's ad'cance-
sheets.

EXPERIMENTS IN SOUND. 65

EXPEKIMENTS IN SOUND. ^

SOUND is the sensation peculiar to the ear. This sensation is caused
by rapidly-succeeding to-and-fro motions of the air which touches
the outside surface of the drum-skin of the ear. These to-and-fro mo-
tions may be given to the air by a distant body, like a string of a vio-
lin. The string moves to and fro, that is, it vibrates. These vibra-
tions of the string act on the bridge of the violin, which rests on the
belly or sounding-board of the instrument. The surface of the sound-
ing-board is thus set trembling, and these tremors, or vibrations, spread
through the air in all directions around the instrument, somewhat in the
manner that water-waves spread around the place where a stone has
been dropped into a quiet pond. These tremors of the air, however,
are not sound, but the cause of sound. Sound, as we have said, is a
sensation ; but, as the cause of this sensation is always vibration, we
call those vibrations which give this sensation sonorous vibrations.
Thus, if we examine attentively the vibrating string of the violin, we
shall see that it looks like a shadowy spindle, showing that the string
swings quickly to and fro ; but, on closing the ears, the sensation of
sound disappears, and there remains to us only the sight of the quick
to-and-fro motion which the moment before caused the sound.

Behind the drum-skin of the ear is a jointed chain of three little
bones. The one, IToi Fig. 4, attached to the drum-skin, is called the
hamtner ; the next. A, is called the anvil; the third, S, has the exact
form of a stirrup, and is called the stirrup-bone. This last bone of the
chain is attached to an oval membrane, which is a little larger than
the foot of the stirrup. This oval membrane closes a hole opening into
the cavity forming the mner ear y a cavity tunneled out of the hardest
bone of the head, and having a very complex form. The oval hole
just spoken of opens into a globular portion of the cavity, known as the
vestibule ; and from this lead three semicircular canals, SC, and also a
caAdty, C, of such a marked resemblance to a snail's shell that it is
called cochlea, the Latin word* for that object. The cavity of the inner
ear is filled with a liquid, in which spread out the delicate fibres of the
auditory nerve.

Let us consider how this wonderful little instrument acts when
sonorous vibrations reach it. Imagine the violin-string vibrating 500
times in one second. The sounding-board also makes 500 vibrations
in a second. The air touching the violin is set trembling with 500
tremors a second, and these tremors speed with a velocity of 1,100 feet

' From " Sound : A Series of Simple, Entertaining, and Inexpensive Experiments in
the Phenomena of Sound, for the Use of Students of Eve,ry Age." By Alfred Marshall
Mayer, Professor of Physics in the Stevens Institute of Technology. " Experimental
Science Series for Beginners, No. II." New York : D. Appleton & Co.

VOL. XIV. — 5

66

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in a second in all directions through the surrounding air. They soon
reach the drum-skin of the ear. The latter, being elastic, moves in
and out with the air which touches it. Then this membrane, in its turn,
pushes and pulls the little ear-bones 500 times in a second. The last
bone, the little stirrup, finally receives the vibrations sent from the

Fig. 4.

violin-string, and sends them into the fluid of the inner ear, where
they shake the fibres of the auditory nerve 500 times in a second.
These tremors of the nerve — how we know not — so affect the brain
that we have the sensation which we call- sound.

In Chapter V. it is shown that the mechanical actions, which finally
result in giving us the sensation of sound, always have their origin in
some vibrating body, and that this vibrating body may be either solid,
liquid, or gaseous. The author, after showing that the vibrations of a
solid (a tuning-fork) and of a liquid (water running through a toy
flageolet) give origin to sound, presents .to his readers —

An Experiment made with a Whistle and a Lamp-Chimnet,

SHOWING that, as IN WiND -INSTRUMENTS, A ViBRATING COLUMN OF

Air may originate Sonorous Vibrations. — Experhnent 33. — The
chimneys of student-lamps have a fashion of breaking just al the thin,
narrow part near the bottom. Such a broken chimney is very useful
in our experiments. At A, in Fig. 25, is such a broken chimney, closed
at the broken end with wax. A cork is fitted to the other end of the
chimney, and has a hole bored through its centre. In this hole is in-
serted part of a common wooden whistle. At JB is an exact represen-
tation of such a whistle, and the cross-line at G shows where it is to
be cut in two. Only the upper part is used, and this is tightly fitted
into the cork.

EXPERIMENTS IN SOUND.

^7

Inside the tube is a small quantity of very fine precipitated silica,
probably the lightest powder known. Hold the tube in an horizontal
position and blow the whistle. The silica-powder springs up into
groups of thin vertical plates, separated by spots of powder at rest, as
in the figure. This is a very beautiful and striking experiment.

Fig. 25.

Experiment 33 a. — The following experiment shows that the sound
is caused by the vibrations of the column of air in the tube and whistle,
and not by the vibrations of these solid bodies. Grasp the tube and
whistle tightly in the hands. These bodies are thus prevented from
vibrating, yet the sound remains the same.

The breath driven through the mouth of the whistle strikes on the
sharp edge of the opening at the side of the whistle, and sets up a flut-
ter or vibration of air. The air within the glass tube now takes part in
the vibrations, the light silica-powder vibrates with it, and makes the
vibrations visible.

To exhibit this experiment before a number of people, lay the tube
carefully on the water-lantern before the heliostat, and throw a projec-
tion of the tube and the powder on the screen. When the whistle is
sounded, all in the room can see the fine powder leaping up in the tube
into thin, upright plates.

From Chapter VI,, which is on the^ transmission of sonorous vibra-
tions through solids, liquids, and gases, we select —

Experiments showixg that the Air is constantly vibrating
WHILE Sonorous Vibrations are passing through it, — We must
now add to our apparatus an open metal A-pipe about seven and a half
inches (nineteen centimetres) long, shown at C in Fig. 27. This pipe
the organ-builder will accurately tune to your " A-philharmonic " fork.

Experiment JfS. — Get a glass tumbler about two and a half inches
in diameter and about three and a half inches deep, though any tumbler
will do. Take a piece of window-glass about three inches square and
place it over the tumbler. The glass must touch the edge of the mouth
of the tumbler all around. Now slowly slide the glass so that the open-
ing into the tumbler gets larger and larger, while the vibrating fork is
held all the time over this opening, as shown at A in Fig, 27. Pres-
ently you will get an opening of a size that causes an intense sound,

68

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

much louder than any you have ever before heard from the fork alone.
This is because the air in the tumbler is set in vibration, and adds the
vibrations of its mass to those of the fork. That this is so you may
prove for yourself by the following experiment :

Experiment ^Jf. — Being careful not to move the glass plate from
its present position (Experiment 43), stick it with wax to the tumbler.
Pour a little silica into the tumbler, and then hold it horizontally, and
vibrate the fork near its opening, observing attentively how the silica-
powder is acted on by the inclosed vibrating air.

Fig. 27.

Experiment J/.5. — Take a piece of thin linen paper about four and
a half inches square, and having wetted it paste it over the mouth of
the tumbler. When the paper has dried it will be stretched tightly.
Take a sharp penknife and carefully cut away the paper so as to make
an opening as shown at J5 in Fig. 27. Make this opening small at
first, and very gradually make it larger and larger. Hold the fork
over the opening after each increase in its size, and you will soon dis-
cover the size of the opening which causes the air inclosed in the tum-
bler to vibrate with the fork, and thus greatly to strengthen its sound.
You have now a mass of air in tune with the fork, and inclosed in a
vessel which has one of its walls formed of a piece of elastic paper.
With this instrument, which I have invented for you, you must make
some charming experiments.

Experiment Jf6. — If the air in the tumbler vibrates to the A-fork,
it will, of course, vibrate to the A-pipe, which gives the same note as
the fork. Scatter some sand on the paper, and then sound the A-pipe
a foot or two from it. The sand dances vigorously about, and ends by
arranging itself in a nodal line parallel to the edges of the paper, in

EXPERIMENTS IN SOUND.

69

the form of a U with its two horns united by a straight line. The
vibrations of the pipe can only reach the tumbler by going through
the air, and, as the sand vibrates when the tumbler is placed in any
position about the pipe, it follows that the air all around the pipe vi-
brates while the pipe is sounding.

Experiment ^7. — Sprinkle a small quantity of sand on the paper,
and then, placing a thin book under the tumbler, so incline it that the
sand just does not run down the paper, as shown in B, Fig. 27. Now
go to the farthest end of the room and blow the pipe in gentle toots,
each about one second long. At each toot, your friend, standing near
the tumbler, will see the sand make a short march down the paper ;
and soon by a series of marches it makes its way to the edge of the
paper and falls into the tumbler, I have, in a large room, gone to the
distance of sixty feet (18,28 metres), and the experiment worked as I
have just described it.

Mcperiment Jf.8. — Again arrange the experiment as in Experiment
47, and standing three or four feet from the tumbler try how feeble a
sound will vibrate the paper. If every part of the experiment is in
good adjustment, you will find that the feeblest toot you can make
will set the sand marching. To keep it at rest you must keep silent.

Experiment Jf9. — To show these experiments on a greatly magni-
fied scale, place the tumbler in front of the heliostat {see " Light,"
page 79) so that the sun's rays just graze along the inclined surface of
the paper. Cut off a piece of a match one-eighth of an inch long, and
split this little bit into four parts. Place one of these on the inclined
paper. Of course, the image of the tumbler is inverted, so the bit of
wood appears to adhere to the lower side of the paper. If a little
paper mouse cut out of smooth paper is used in place of the bit of
wood, it is really amusing to see the mouse make a start at every toot
of the pipe.

Fi&. 21.

We make a long selection from Chapter VIII., which treats of the
" Interferences of Sonorous Vibrations, and of the Beats of Sound," in
order to set forth the manner in which the author has knit together his
simple experiments.

70

TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Experiment 60. — Cut out two small triangles of copper-foil or
tinsel, of the same size, and with wax fasten one on the end of each of
the prongs of a tuning-fork. Put the fork in the wooden block, and
set up the guide (as in experiment, Fig. 21). Prepare a strip of smoked
glass, and then make the fork vibrate and slide the glass under it, and
get two traces, one from each prong.

Holding the glass up to the light, you will see the double trace, as
shown in Fig. 37= You observe that the wavy lines move apart, and

Fig 37.

then draw together. This shows us that the two prongs, in vibrating,
do not move in the same direction at the same time, but always in op-
posite directions. They swing toward each other, then away from each
other.

Experiment 61. — What is the effect of this movement of the prongs
of the fork on the air ? A simple experiment will answer this question.
Place three lighted candles on the table at A^ B, and G (Fig. 38).
Hold the hands upright, with the space between the palms opposite A,
while the backs of the hands face the candles £ and C. Now move
the hands near each other, then separate them, and make these motions
steadily and not too quickly. You thus repeat the motions of the
prongs of the fork. While vibrating the hands, observe attentively

the flames of the candles. When
the hands are coming nearer each
other, the air is forced out from
between them, and a puff of air is
driven against the flame A^ as is
shown by its bending away from
the hands. But, during the above
movement, the backs of the hands
have drawn the flames toward them,
as shown in Fig. 38. When the
hands are separating, the air rushes
in between them, and the flame A
is drawn toward the hands by this
motion of the air, while at the same
time the flames at H and C are
driven away from the backs of the hands. From this experiment it is
seen that the space between the prongs and the faces of the prongs of
a fork are, at the same instant, always acting oppositely on the air.
This will be made clearer by the study of the diagram, Fig. 39.
This figure supposes the student looking down on the tops of the
prongs of the fork. Imagine the prongs swinging away from each

Fig. 38.

EXPERIMENTS IN SOUND.

71

other in their vibration. Then the action of the faces c and c on the
air is to condense it, and this condensation tends to spread all around
the fork. But, by the same movement, the space r r between the
prongs is enlarged, and hence a rarefaction is made there. This rare-
faction also spreads all ai'ound the fork. But, as the condensations
produced at c and c and the rarefactions at r dnd r spread Avith the

Fig. 39.

same velocity, it follows that they must meet along the dotted lines q,
q, q, q, drawn from the edges of the fork outward. The full ^-circle
lines around the fork in Fig. 39 represent the middle of the condensed
shells of air, while the broken ^-circle lines stand for the middle of the
rarefied shells of air.

Now what must happen along these dotted lines, or, rather, surfaces ?
Evidently there is a struggle here between the condensations and the
rarefactions. The former tend to make the molecules of air go nearer
together, the latter try to separate them; but, as these actions are
equal, and as the air is pulled in opposite directions at the same time, it
remains at rest — does not vibrate. Therefore, along the surfaces q, q,
q, q, there is silence. When the prongs vibrate toward each other they
make the reverse actions on the air; that is, rarefactions are now sent
out from c and c, while condensations are sent from r and r, but the
same effect of silence along q, q, q, q, is produced.

Experimeyit 62. — That this is so, is readily proved by the following
simple experiment : Vibrate the fork and hold it upright near the ear.
Now slowly turn it round. During one revolution of the fork on its
foot, you will perceive that the sound goes through four changes.
Four times it was loud, and four times it was almost if not quite gone.
Twirl the fork before the ear of a companion : he will tell you when it

72

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

makes the loudest sound, and when it becomes silent. You wUl find
that when it is loudest the faces c, c of the prongs, or the spaces r, r
between them, are facing his ear ; and when he tells you that there is
sUence you will find that the edges of the fork, that is, the planes q, q^
q, q, are toward his ear.

Our space will only permit one more selection, and this we take
from Chapter XYII., " On the Analysis and. Synthesis of Sounds,"
in order specially to show how Prof. Mayer has placed within the reach
of all teachers and students an instrument giving some of the most
charming experiments in acoustics. The whole apparatus, if made at
home, need not cost over seventy-five cents.

Experiments by which Compound Souicds are analyzed by
VIEWING IN A Rotating Mirror the Vibrations op Konig's Mano-
METRic Flames. — Take a piece of pine board. A, Fig. 51, 1 inch (25

Fig. 51.

millimetres) thick, 1^ inch (38 millimetres) wide, and 9 inches (22.8
centimetres) long. One inch from its top bore with an inch centre-bit
a shallow hole ^ inch deep. Bore a like shallow hole in the block J?,
which is f inch thick, 1^ inch wide, and 2 inches (51 millimetres) long.

EXPERIMENTS IN SOUND. 73

Place a -^^-inch centre-bit in the centre of the shallow hole in A and
bore with it a hole through the wood. Into this fit a glass or metal
tube, as shown at E. Bore a ^inch (5 millimetres) hole obliquely
into the shallow hole in J?, and into this fit the glass tube C. Then
bore another j^^-inch hole directly into the shallow hole in £. Put a
glass tube in a gas or spirit flame and heat it red-hot at a place about
two inches from its end. Then draw the tube out at this place into a
narrow neck. Make a cut with the edge of a file across this narrow
neck, and the tube will readily snap asunder at this mark. Then heat
a place on the tube in a flame, and here bend it into a right angle, as
shown at Z>, Fig. 51. Now fit this tube into the hole just made, as
shown at D. These tubes may be firmly and tightly fitted by wrap-
ping their ends with paper coated with glue before they are forced
into their holes.

Get a small piece of the thinnest sheet rubber you can find, or a
piece of thin linen paper, and, having rubbed glue on the board A
around the shallow hole, stretch the thin rubber, or paper, over this
hole and glue it there. Then rub glue on the block B, and place the
shallow hole in this block directly over the shallow hole in A, and
fasten ^ to ^ by wrapping twine around these blocks. Thus you will
have made a little box divided into two compartments by a partition
of thin rubber. Fasten the rod A to the side of a small board, so
that it may stand upright.

Attach a piece of large-sized rubber tube to the glass tube F^ and
into the other end of the tube stick a cone, made by rolling up a piece
of cardboard so as to form a cone eight inches long and with a mouth
two inches (51 millimetres) in diameter.

Now get a piece of wood one foot long, four inches wide, and a
quarter of an inch thick. Out of this cut the square, with the two
rods projecting from it, as shown at 3f. The lower of these rods is
short, the one above the square is long. Cut the end of the shorter
rod to a blunt point, and with this point make a very shallow pit in
the piece of flat wood .2" for the rod and square to twirl in. Glue the
piece of wood IC on the end of a brick, L. Get two pieces of thin
silvered glass, each four inches square, and, placing one on each side of
the square M, fasten them there by winding twine around the top
and bottom borders of the mirrors.

Experiment 112. — Through a rubber tube iead gas to C. It will
go into the left-hand partition of the box and will come out at F, where
you will light it. Now place the mirror-rod in the shallow pit in E,
and hold the mirror upright, so that you may see the flame F re-
flected from its centre.

Hold the rod upright and twirl it slowly between the thumb and
forefinger, which should point downward and not horizontally, as shown
in the figure. The flame appears in the mirror drawn out into a band
of light with a smooth top-border. While twirling the mirror put the

74 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

cone to your mouth and sing into it. The sonorous vibrations enter
the side A of the box, and, striking on the thin rubber, force this in
and out. When it goes in, a puff of gas is driven out of the other
partition, S, of the box, and the flame F jumps up. When the sheet
of rubber vibrates outward, it sucks the gas into the box JB, and the
flame F jumps dovrn. Therefore, on singing into tne funnel, you will
see in the mirror the smooth top-border of the luminous band bro-
ken up into little tongues or teeth of flame, each tooth standing for
one vibration of the voice on the rubber partition.

Place a lamp-chimney around the flame, should the wind from the
twirling mirror agitate it, and be careful not to have the flame too
high.

Experiment 113. — Another way of showing the vibrations of the
flame is to burn the jet of gas at the end of a glass tube stuck into the
end of a rubber tube attached to F. Now sling the tube round in a
vertical circle, and you have an unbroken luminous ring ; but as soon
as you sing into the cone this ring breaks up into a circle of beads of
light, or sometimes changes into a wreath of beautiful little luminous
flowers, like forget-me-nots. To make this experiment, you will be
obliged to have a tube with a larger opening than that at F.

This instrument will afford you many an hour of instruction and
amusement. We have only space to show you a few experiments.
Others will suggest themselves whenever you use it.

Experiment llJf.. — Sing into the funnel the sound of oo as in pool.
After a few trials you will get a pure simple sound, and the flame will
appear as in Fig. 52. Some voices get this figure more readily by sing-
ing E.

Experiment 115. — Twirling the mirror with the same velocity, grad-
ually lower the pitch of the oo sound till your voice falls to its lower
octave, when the flame will appear as in Fig. 53, with half the number
of teeth in Fig. 52, because the lower octave of a sound is given by
half the number of vibrations.

Experiment 116. — Sing the vowel-sound o on the note and you will
see Fig. 54 in the mirror. This evidently is not the

py figure that would have been made by a simple vibra-

*^^M- — !-~\ tion. It shows that this o sound is compound, and

formed of two simple sounds, one the octave of the
other. The larger teeth are made by every alternate vibration of the
higher simple sound acting with a vibration of the lower, and thus
making the flame jump higher by their combined action on the mem-
brane.

Experiment 117. — Fig. 55 appears on the miiTor when we sing the
English vowel a on the note f.

Experiment 118. — Fig. 56 appears on the mirror when we sing the
English vowel a on the note c.

Examine attentively Fig. 55. This shows that the English vowel a

EXPERIMENTS IN SOUND.

75

sung on f is made up of two combined simple vibrations. One of these
alone would make the long tongues of flame, but with this simple vi-
bration exists another of three times its frequency ; that is, the vibra-
tion of greater frequency is the third harmonic of the slower. As the
slower vibration, making the long tongues of flame, is f, the higher

Figs. 52, 53, 51, 56, 56.

must be c" of the second octave above f. Each third vibration of this
higher harmonic coincides with each vibration of f ; hence each third
tongue of flame is higher than the others.

Experime7%t 119. — In like manner the student must analyze Fig. 56
into its simple sonorous elements. Then he should, with the vibrating
flame, examine the peculiarities of the various voices of his friends, and
make neat and accurate drawings of the flames corresponding to them,
so that he may analyze them at his leisure.

Experiment 120. — Blow your toy trumpet into the paper cone
gently, and then strongly, and observe that the sound given by the
trumpet is a complex one. Try if you cannot get a flame somewhat like
that the trumpet gives by singing ah, through your nose, into the cone.

-]€> THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

The student will soon find that different persons, in singing the
same note, as nearly alike as they can, will produce flames of very dif-
ferent forms. This is because the voices dift'er in the number and rela-
tive intensities of the simple sounds which form them.

-♦♦♦-

THE EADIOMETER.

By J. W. PHELPS.

OOME twenty-five years ago, when Foucault's ingenious experiment
KJ for proving the earth's motion on its axis was in vogue, the idea
occurred to us that that fact might be proved in another way. Fou-
cault's method, it will be remembered, consisted in the vibration of the
pendulum in a fixed direction, the earth's motion being disclosed by the
angular deviation of a given chalked line from that direction. In the
pursuit of our own method we conceived the idea — which, though a very
simple one, was not more simple than some others have been of experi-
mentalists, both before and after the fact — that, if a small needle, say of
dry wood, could be suspended from its middle by a torsionless thread,
and be excluded from the air, it would retain any fixed direction, while
a parallel line under it would change from that direction in proportion
as the horizon turned from west to east. In order to carry out this
idea we suspended a wooden needle by a thread of spider's web from
the underside of the cork stopper of a large glass jar, and for addi-
tional security against possible currents of air placed the whole inside
of a large chest.

On going to this chest to ascertain the result of our experiment,
which we happened to do by night, and had to take a light with us, we
were surprised to see, the moment we raised the lid, the needle begin
to move ! Our first thought was that we had made a great discovery .
that light was a material substance, and that enough of that substance
could emanate from one small candle to move a needle when freely sus-
pended, in an horizontal position ! The weight of light, of course, we
knew must be infinitely small, if it had any weight at all ; but then, by
multiplying what little weight it might have by its known amazing
great velocity, we did not know but that the motion which we wit-
nessed might be produced in the way supposed. A little examination,
however, into the matter, soon convinced us that our first impressions
were erroneous.

We preserved the glass jar with the needle suspended in it for
many months ; and the most astonishing thing about it to us was that,
however much the needle turned, though at times it would spin round
with great and long-continued velocity, the thread of spider's web never

THE RADIOMETER.

77

twisted nor broke. At one period it was piaced on the mantelpiece,
over an open fireplace, and whenever a pufF of wind came down the
chimney, driving the heat of the fire up toward it, the needle would then
spin with amazing rapidit}', reminding us of the whirlwinds that spin
up from heated plains of sand or dust. Our visitors were astonished to
see that needle whirling there, without any visible cause, and with no
apparent attachment, for the thread by which it was suspended was so
slight as almost to escape observation.

The application of the hand to the side of the jar would always
cause the needle to move from a state of rest. It was very interesting
to watch its motion at night, whenever the light of a candle entered
the jar. It furnished a beautiful illustration of the effect which is pro-
duced upon the still night-air of summer when penetrated by the first
rays of the rising sun. We may conceive that the whole atmosphere at
that moment responds with infinite currents, breezes, and motions, awak-
ened into new life from a night's rest by the heat of the sun's rays. Of
course, light, as a substance, has nothing to do with the motion. It
results entirely from the expansion of the air by the force of heat. Our
needle moved on the same principle precisely — and on no other — that
the windmill moves in a current of air.

If the glass jar were to be exhausted of its air, and the needle were
then to move when struck by a beam of light, the motion might be
supposed entirely due to that light; but it may well be doubted
whether it is possible to produce a vacuum so perfect that it would be
entirely void of gaseous substance of some kind. The planetary and
starry spaces themselves are probably not entirely free from matter
that would respond to the action of heat, if indeed such matter is not
necessary for the transmission of light and heat. An infinitesimal
portion of air, or even of vapor of mercury, spread through a large jar
or receiver, would doubtless obey the same law of expansion under
heat that is observed by the atmosphere in its densest conditions, and,
when set in motion, would prove sufficient to move a freely-suspended
needle.

As our instrument, devised for proving the rotation of the earth,
did not prove that fact, but showed something else, so the radiometer,
which was supposed to prove the material character of light, did not
prove that fact, yet it may serve to show something else. But we do
not perceive why it should be called a radiometer, any more than the
windmill should be called by that name.

78 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

PLANTS AND THE PEOPLING OF AMEPJCA.^

By otto KUNTZE.

I HAVE spent some years as a botanist in the tropics of both hemi-
spheres, and in the mean time have studied pretty thoroughly the
tropical domesticated plants. In America and in Asia the principal
domesticated tropical plants are represented by the same species ; for
instance, Manihot utilissima, whose roots yield a fine flour, the tarro
[Colocasia esculenta), the Spanish or red pepper {Capsicum annuum),
which is in far more general use than the black pepper, and whose nu-
merous domestic varieties justify the inference that it has been culti-
vated from a very early period. This inference is still more valid in the
case of the banana [3fusa jyci't'df^'isiaca), called also the pisang, from
which 3fusa sapientum is not specifically distinguishable ; its fruits, in
the cultivated state, are always seedless, and the varieties of the plant
far surpass in number those of our apples and pears. Other cultivated
plants found in both hemispheres are the tobacco, maize, cocoanut —
the American origin of none of which is at all proved ; then there is the
tomato [Lycopersicum esculentiim), and the cultivated bamboo, in which
among millions of specimens hardly one has flowers. Thus the bamboo
is not propagated by means of seed any more than is the tarro, the ba-
nana, the sweet-potato, or paritium. Of fruit-trees common to the Old
and New Worlds I would further name the guava {Psidium guava), the
melon-tree {Carica papaya), and the Yaa.ngo-iv\xit [Mangifera Indica).
Finall}^ I may name Paritium, tiliaceum, a malvaceous plant hardly
noticed by Europeans, but very highly prized by the natives of the
tropics. This tree, cultivated everywhere in the East and West Indies,
South America, and the Malay Archipelago, supplies to the natives all
the cordage they require ; but in those countries cordage is not kept in
stock as among us. If a rope is needed, a branch is broken off and
stripped of its bark ; the latter is divided into strips, which are held be-
tween the toes and twisted by the hands. When a load is to be carried
from one place to another the natives usually secure it with a fresh cord
of this kind to both ends of a bamboo carrying-pole. In the cultivated
state this malvaceous tree is neai'ly always sterile, while the paritium-
trees, which grow wild in the lagoons of the coast of Farther India,
always bear seeds. This rope-tree appears to have existed in America
before Columbus's time, for it was at an early period imported thence into
the Canaries. What we may only accept as probable concerning this plant
we know with certainty concerning the cultivated banana or plantain,
which is also seedless. It was generally cultivated in America prior to
1492. Now in what way was this plant, which cannot stand a voyage
through the temperate zone, carried to America, to the New World,
^ Translated from the German by Dr. H. Hartogh Heys van Zouteneer.

PLANTS AND THE PEOPLING OF AMERICA. 79

where it certainly does not grow in the wild state ? It must be remem-
bered that the plantain is a tree-like herbaceous plant possessing no
easily transportable bulbs like the potato or the dahlia, nor propagable
by cuttings like the willow or the poplar. It has only a perennial root
which, once planted, needs hardly any care, and yet produces the most
abundant crop of any known tropical plant. On the average, a plantain
annually bears nearly twenty kilogrammes, and sometimes a hundred-
weight, of most nutritious fruit, which at the same time possesses a deli-
cious flavor. The stem then dies and the root gives out new shoots.
No doubt the American race, closely allied as it is with the Mongolian,
carried with it, when it migrated to America, the plantain as a culti-
vated plant from Asia where it grew wild. The plantain cannot have
come from Africa or from Polynesia, where musa is also indigenous, for
in that case African or Polynesian characters would exist in the abo-
riginal population of America. Some writers have supposed that this
seedless, herbaceous, cultivated plant must have been introduced into
America by shipwrecked seamen, because it can exist only in a tropical
climate and in living specimens. But in our geological epoch a party
of Mongolians shipwrecked in their primitive craft could never have
reached the shores of America alive * at any point in the tropical zone,
for they would be unprovided with sufficient food, and because the trop-
ical distance between Asia and America is enormous, nearly thrice or
four times as great as between Europe and America. Then, seamen
are not wont to take living specimens of the plantain on their voyages ;
and, even if they did, these plants would be consumed as food in case of
shipwreck.

Even if we suppose the plants to have escaped this fate, they would
surely perish for want of fresh water. An hypothesis which rests on
four improbabilities is worth nothing, and we might wager one against
thousands of millions that no importation of the plantain into America
has ever happened in that wise. The only hypothesis which remains
is, that the importation took place while the polar regions enjoyed a
tropical climate, and that the plantain was brought by the immigrating
Asiatics by way of Kamtchatka and Alaska. This is the more prob-
able, because many other tropical cultivated plants are in like manner
propagated, not by seeds, but by " eyes," etc. Now, a cultivated plant
which does not possess seeds must have been under culture for a very
long period — we have not in Europe a single exclusively seedless,
berry-bearing, cultivated plant — and hence it is perhaps fair to infer
that these plants were cultivated as early as the beginning of the mid-
dle of the diluvial period. Moreover, the hypothesis of an immigration

' The Chinese and Japanese are acquainted with the plantain, and possess large ships
in which pretty long voyages may be made. In the summer the plantain might live in the
temperate zone. It can hardly be doubted that long before Columbus's time the junks
of those peoples may have been wrecked on the Pacific coast of America. This seems
an objection to the author's views. — Translator.

8o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the Indians via a still tropical Northern Asia and North America is
confirmed by their going naked. Had they passed through a climate
like that of the Kamtchatka of to-day, they must have worn clothing ;
and a people that once has acquired that habit never abandons it after-
ward. Further, it must be observed that the American Indians gener-
ally are bad seamen, attempting only coastwise voyages ; and this fact
also renders the supposition of an oceanic immigration improbable.
Whether man was the earliest cultivator of plants is doubtful, for we
know of one or two species of ants which also regularly cultivate
certain plants. We have, therefore, no reason to doubt that the very
early ancestors of the Indians, however barbarous they may have been,
cultivated a plant the culture of which is very easy and whose produce
is most abundant, for it yields, as Humboldt has shown, on the same
area, twenty-five times as large a crop and twenty-five times as much
food-value as wheat.

I will consider the only two objections that have hitherto been
brought against my hypothesis :

1. The importation of this plant by seamen who would have reached
the American coast in their frail canoes, being favored by ocean-cur-
rents, is not possible, because within the tropics there is but one ocean-
current from Asia toward America, namely, the equatorial current ;
but now this current, strictly speaking, does not touch Asia at all, but
has its beginning at a point eastward of the Philippines and the Mo-
luccas. If we make the very bold supposition — for a waste of water
80° wide, or twelve hundred geographical miles, has to be crossed, or
two thousand geographical miles from the Moluccas — that such immi-
gration is possible, then Polynesian and not Mongolian races would
inhabit America, which is contrary to the facts of the case. 2. Or, sup-
posing an immigration along a line near to the equator, we must pre-
suppose a regular intercourse in prehistoric times between Southern
China or Farther India and Central America, so that the later immi-
grants might make preparation for carrying out with them on a long
sea-voyage living plants, as the banana, paritium, bamboo, etc. : for
this supposition there is no ground whatever. Besides, many tradi-
tions current among various American tribes point to an immigration
from the north, while the equatorial current only touches America at
Panama.

I have still to meet another objection, namely, that the banana,
when man began to cultivate it, must have had seeds (though this is so
no longer), and that the seeds only were brought to America at an early
period. This is inadmissible, because in that case the plantain must
often have reverted to the wild state, like all other seed-bearing tropi-
cal fruits. But the plantain does not grow wild, though in tropical
America it finds the same conditions of vegetation as in its native
country, and hence thrives there. The wild plantain in India has small
stony seeds, and is distributed widely by monkeys, bats, and insects.

PLACE OF ENGLISH IN HIGHER EDUCATION 81

which like the fruit but cannot destroy the seeds. In Asia wild, seed-
bearing plantains are usually found growing in groups. In America,
which has a much greater area of wilderness, the plantain must have
spread far and wide, seeing that it has persisted in the wild state in
the far more densely-inhabited East Indies. Therefore, it appears that
in America the plantain has always been a seedless, cultivated plant,
which can only have been introduced from Asia in preglacial times,
through northern zones, for in that way alone was the immigration at
all possible. — Aiisland.

THE PLACE OF ENGLISH IE THE HIGHER

EDUCATION.'

Br A. B. STAEK, LL. D..

PRESIDENT OF THE LOGAN FEMALE COLLEGE.

I SHALL begin with an unequivocal statement of my position : the
study of the English language and literature should occupy the cen-
tral place — the place of honor — in every scheme of higher education
for English-speaking men and women. This primacy I claim for two
principal reasons : first, the knowledge obtained from this study is of
most worth in the practical affairs of real life ; second, the right study
of English may be made the instrument of the highest culture of the
mind.

All educators, I believe, are agreed that a thorough knowledge of
our mother-tongue is of supreme importance to every educated man or
woman. The friends of classical studies urge, among their strongest
arguments in favor of Latin and Greek, that through a careful study
of these languages is the shortest and surest way to a thorough kaowl-
edge of English ; while, on the other hand, the advocates of the new
education magnify the importance of studying English. I think it
unnecessary to dwell on this first projDosition, and shall, therefore, pass
at once to a consideration of the educational value of the study of
English.

In my first advocacy of the importance of studying English — in a
quarterly review article printed seventeen years ago — I concede " that
the study of the vernacular is almost valueless as a means of education,
or as an instrument of intellectual culture and discipline." I hope I am
wiser to-day ; I certainly hold a very diflFerent opinion. In that article
I reviewed all the important books on the subject then published, and
yet all those works, with the exception of Marsh's " Lectures " and
Latham's " Handbook," have been forgotten. A course of real study

' A paper read before the Xational Educational Association, Louisville, Ky., August
15, 187V.

VOL, XIV. — 6

82 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in English was then unknown. A young man, whose time had been
mainly given to Latin and Greek, might be expected to err in estimat-
ing the value of an undeveloped study.

After many years of experience in teaching I have come to beheve
that one may be liberally educated without knowing even Shakespeare's
" little Latin and less Greek." Let us see what is claimed for classical
studies by their friends. Dr. Jacob, in a lecture before the London
College of Preceptors, after saying — what is most true — that it is " of
the greatest importance to accustom young boys or girls to exercise
such mental powers as attention, observatioji, exactness or clearness
of apprehension, the comparison of contrasts and similarities, general-
ization from, a number of particular instances, the facility in tracing
order in the midst of variety,'''' tells us that Latin "affords pecidiar
opportunities for promoting the exercise of the very faculties which
most need to be drawn out and trained in boys, if they are to have an
education which deserves the name." I think it will puzzle Dr. Jacob,
or any one else, to show wherein Latin affords peculiar opportunities
for promoting this training. Indeed, an advocate of science-teaching
may as well make a similar claim for the particular science which he
recommends. Certainly the botanist may accept this language as a
statement of his claim. These results can undoubtedly be deduced
from the study of English, and, in fact, from almost any real study.

"We must, therefore, seek a higher ground for justifying the giving
of so much precious time to the study of Latin and Greek. Let us try
the real object of learning a language, to use it as a tool for receiving
and conveying thought. The utter uselessness of Latin and Greek for
this practical purpose, to almost every one who studies them, puts them
out of court at once. After all the j'ears spent in the study of these
languages, not one in a thousand of our college graduates even learns
to read them, and I doubt if there are ten teachers of them in America
who can read them. There are many who can translate a Latin or a
Greek book with the aid of a dictionary ; there are others who can
translate without the help of a dictionary ; but translating is not read-
ing. To read a book in a foreign language, you must thinh in its
language — you must catch the thovight at a glance without the inter-
vention of English words at all. Now, who is there before me who
can thus read an unfamiliar passage in Latin or Greek ? Although I
have sjoent many of the best years of my life in studying these lan-
guages, I am free to say I cannot do it. I have never known a man
who could do it. Hence we know no more about the thought, the life,
the philosophy, the poetry of the Greeks and the Romans, than we
could have learned far more readily from good translations — using the
correct translations of others in place of our own imperfect work.

All this, I know, is unpardonable heresy. My sin is made worse by
the fact that I have fallen from grace. I was trained up in the good
orthodox creed that the study of Latin and Greek is the chief factor of

PLACE OF ENGLISH IN HIGHER EDUCATION. %^

a liberal education — the central source of " sweetness and light." These
gods of Greece and Rome, having j^layed their part, still " lag super-
fluous on the stage," and we must push them from their places to make
room for something better — for modern languages and physical sciences.
It may be said there is room for all, but I doubt it. Many eminent
teachers in America and in England, writing to me in regard to a prize-
paper on " Hamlet," printed last year as a specimen of the work done
by my pupils, use expressions of surprise and admiration that have as-
tonished me, and confess that they are unable to do work so good on
account of the over-crowded curriculums of their colleges and univer-
sities. From numerous statements of this kind, I infer that, although
able and learned men are employed in the department of English in
our leading institutions, the students do not have time for any real,
earnest work at English. There is too much of something else. We
must find this encumbering something and drive it out, to make room
for English. I think I see it in the form of Latin and Greek, and ab-
stract mathematics in some colleges. Like the men of Ephesus who
shouted " Great is Diana of the Ephesians " all the louder because they
no longer believed in her greatness, we sometimes cling the closer to
our idols after we see their utter powerlessness. So I have done, and
in the curriculum of Logan Female College I permitted Latin to hold
the place of honor after I had lost faith in its right. Meanwhile I was
giving the primacy to the study of English in the actual work of the
college. A copy of the college register having fallen into the hands
of Mr. A. J. Ellis, formerly President of the English Philological As-
sociation and author of " Early English Pronunciation," he wrote me a
long private letter, in w^hich he severely criticises my inconsistency, and
presses me to an oj^en avowal of my real faith. I can best fortify the
position I have taken by quoting his words, as I find them in a lecture
before the London College of Preceptors : " It is perfectly absurd to
speak of the humanizing efiect of Latin and Greek, the grand litera-
tures which they contain, their poetry, their philosophy, their history,
the enormous influence which they have had upon the literature, poetry,
philosophy, the whole tone of thought prevalent among civilized na-
tions— I say that it is perfectly absurd to advance all these arguments,
when the only condition Avhich could make them valid is wanting. That
condition is, that those who acquire them should be able to use them ;
that is, should be able to take up a Latin or Greek book, and read as
most of those who have learned French and German would be ashamed
not to do with French and German books ; should be able rapidly by
the eye to drink in the sense without the laborious consultation of dic-
tionaries, without having to consider their own language at all ; should
be able to think in the languages so far as to speak and write in them
with tolerable facility, making the words and phrases immediate repre-
sentatives of thought. Without such power, we have no notion of the
meaning or literature of a language. The words are tasks to get up,

84 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

or s}Tnbols to decipher, not the utterances of genius. . . . There are
certainly not five in a hundred of those who learn Latin in our schools
who can read with ease an unconned piece of Latin, or write off-hand a
Latin letter on a familiar subject. I need not say a word about Greek.
With all such people, learning Latin has been an arrant failure. They
have done worse than waste their time. They have learned to make
marks, to take places, to receive prizes, for mere botch-work."

These are the words of a man who devoted sixteen years of his
early life to the dead languages, with a slight mixture of abstract
mathematics. He tells us that, when he left Cambridge at the age of
twenty-four, he was totally ignorant of the things he most needed to
know, while his knowledge of Latin and Greek was " very small, poor,
and inaccurate."

My classical friends must not attempt to refute me by the fallacy
of an epithet ; that is, by calling me illiberal, narrow-minded. It is
just possible that there is some illiberality on the other side ; it may be
that if they knew more English they would think less of Latin and
Greek. It is not enough for them to enlarge upon the educating power
of classical studies. I am willing to admit what they usually claim for
their favorite studies in that direction, but at the same time I hold that
the highest and best discipline of mind is derived from a scientific study
of English, German, and French ; while the knowledge acquired in the
process of learning these modern languages is incalculably more valu-
able in the affairs of real life than the knowledge obtained by pursuing
the fullest course in the classics. The friends of the old education
must meet this position squarely. Fine phrases about liberal culture
will no longer be accepted in place of facts. We, too, believe in liberal
culture. But if a knowledge of the highest thought of the ancient
world, as embodied in words by its foremost thinkers, tends to liberalize
and broaden the mind of a student, it must be trebly effective in its
liberalizing influences to bring the student's mind up to the level of the
highest thought of our own age. TFe are the ancients — " the heirs of
all the ages." Our young men know vastly more than the wisest in the
old time knew. Thev will, therefore, get most profit in knowledge, and
equal profit in discipline, from the study of modern languages. After
learning these, if they have leisure and inclination, they will amuse
themselves by learning Greek and Latin.

Latin and Greek, being: almost valueless in the work of fitting one
for the duties of modern life, and by no means indispensable in the
work of mental development, are, therefore, relegated to the position
of pleasant accomplishments, or that of professional helps for ministers,
teachers, and specialists. The student who is rightly trained in the
study of modern languages will in a very short time — one or two years
— learn the grammatical forms and acquire facility in the translation
of Greek and Latin. So far am I from accepting the once popular
notion — stiU heard of in out-of-the-wav corners of the countrv — that

PLACE OF ENGLISH IN HIGHER EDUCATION. 85

English is best learned through the study of Latin, that I maintain the
opposite view ; namely, the true natural method is to pass from English,
which is easy for us, to the study of Latin, which is difficult — to pass in
true logical order from the known to the unknown. I apply this great
principle in my method of teaching English, beginning with the simple
modern forms that are known to the student, and working back grad-
ually to older and more complex forms which, if presented at once to
the student, would seem as uncouth as Greek or Choctaw.

I must now say a few words about the method of teaching English ;
for, if the study of English is to occupy the foremost place in our insti-
tutions of higher instruction, the method of teaching it becomes exceed-
ingly important. I am disposed to think that the unfruitfulness so
often seen in English teaching is the result of wrong methods. Most
destructive of all good results is the theory of the grammar-mongers
who, not recognizing the fact that the English language is a language,
with facts and idioms worthy of independent study, attempt to bring
its facts into conformity with the rules of the Latin grammar. It
would of course be just as wise to take English grammar as the
basis of a Latin grammar. English is a Teutonic language, with
its own independent grammar, and must be studied as English and
not as a corrupt form of Latin. It has borrowed words, but not gram-
matical principles, from the Latin, Whatever is common to the two
languages comes to each alike from their common mother, the Aryan
UrspracTie.

The two great instruments of study are history and comparison.

The historical method of study is the only road to a critical knowl-
edge of our mother-tongue ; but before we can employ this method in-
telligently, we must get a clear conception of the continuity of English.
We must recognize the fact that in English literature there has been an
unbroken succession of authors from Caedmon to Tennyson, a period
of twelve hundred years. The language of King Alfx-ed and the
language of President Hayes are one and the same Exglish tongue.
"In fact," says Mr. Skeat, "there is no difference between modern
English and that oldest form of it to which the name of Anglo-Saxon
has been given, except such as has been naturally and gradually brought
about by the mere lapse of time (occasioning the loss of some words
and some alteration in the form and meaning of others), and by the en-
largement of the vocabulary from foreign sources. In a word, old
English is the right key to the understanding of modern English, and
those who will not use this key will never open the lock with all their
fumbling " — with all their attempts to use the counterfeit Latin-gram-
mar key. No critical student, following the historical method, can stop
in the fourteenth century in his search for old English. He can find
no resting-place — no distinct break in the continuity of the language.
Between the writers of one period and those of the preceding genera-
tion, the differences are always slight, even in times of most rapid

86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

change — differences wholly insufficient to mark the death of one lan-
guage and the birth of another.

Old English is synthetic, with an elaborate system of inflections ;
modern Enghsh is analytic, and almost inflectionless. We must not fall
into the error of supposing that this change has been brought about by
the Norman Conquest. Other kindred dialects, as Danish and Low
Dutch, have undergone similar changes without the influences of exter-
nal causes. So our mother-tongue has developed itself into its present
forms, not by chance or by the will of Norman masters, but according
to fixed laws. In its wonderful grow^th, and in all its seemingly lawless
transformations, it has followed necessary rules. In our teaching, we
must leave the unfruitful field of guess-work, and investigate the man-
ner in which the general laws of linguistic change and development are
applicable to the growth of the English language. It is impossible to
explain words and grammatical facts, or idioms, except by their history.
We must first know their affiliations and the facts that have preceded
them ; just as in the sciences of observation, such as chemistry or
natural history, we can give an account of a fact only by knowing what
has preceded it. For instance, in order to explain the manner in which
a tree is formed, it is not enough to study the tree as it stands before
us in its full-leaved glory ; it is necessary to construct a history of the
tree by the aid of accurate observations of the different states and
forms through which it has successively passed. We are able to under-
stand clearly what is only through a knowledge of what has been. We
can discover the causes of a phenomenon only by taking a comprehen-
sive view of antecedent phenomena. Grammar, in its true method, is
the botany of language.

Modern English without old English is a tree without roots — a
lifeless trunk. The words that have been imported from Latin and
other sources have been ingrafted upon the English stock, and draw
their life-nourishment from roots that strike deep down into the death-
kingdoms of the oldest Teutonic speech.

Theoretically, we begin Avith what is oldest and farthest from us,
to explain all that follows in the course of time ; but practically, in
learning and in teaching, we begin with what is nearest and best known,
and work back to what is less and less familiar.

As an illustration of what I mean by studying a fact historically,
take the plural of the word foot. The boy or girl learns in the ele-
mentary school that the plural oi foot is feet^ and accepts it as an ulti-
mate, inexplicable fact. But the man or woman in the college or uni-
versity may ask why the plural is feet and not foots. I am afraid
there are some very learned teachers of Latin and Greek who could
not answer, except with a growl about the lawlessness of the English
language. However, it is explicable. Going back twelve hundred
years, we find our present form fot, fet. There seems to be an end of
our search. But we can go farther; for, looking into the old Saxon,

PLACE OF ENGLISH IN HIGHER EDUCATION. 87

the language as spoken by our forefathers in their old home on the
Elbe before they settled in England, we find a plural in ?, fot't. But
it is a known law, holding good in all the Teutonic dialects, except the
Gothic, that a or o is changed into e through the influence of i in the
following syllable ; hence foti became feti. After a time, this final ^,
the true sign of the plural, was dropped, and then the modified e was
considered the sign of the plural. This Umlaut is itself an ultimate
fact, like gravitation in physics, inexpUcable in the present state of
our knowledge.

Whatever help to a right understanding of the constructions and
inflections of modern English may be obtained from comparing them
with the forms and laws of the Latin language, it is clear that vastly
greater help may be obtained from studying them in the light of their
own history.

The second instrument of fruitful study is comparison. This opens
a vast field for investigation ; for we must compare our English tongue
with all the cognate Aryan languages ; but especially with German,
Dutch, Danish, Icelandic, Gothic — all the Teutonic tongues, old and
new — and with those languages with which it has come into contact
dm-ing its long and wide-reaching history. English, the grandest lan-
guage in the history of humanity, has the most extended affinities and
historical connections.

As an example of an English form that can be explained only by
comparison with a cognate dialect, take ed, the sign of the past tense.
No clew to the origin of this termination can be found in the English
of any period. Our knowledge of Latin and Greek is again useless.
In this case the Gothic will help us to the true explanation ; for it is
simply a reduplicated perfect of the verb do, did. Hence the old
English lufode is merely, I love did, that is, 1 did love.

Thus studying English in its historical development, and comparing
it at every point with the languages with which it is connected by
kinship or by contact, the student sees language in every form in which
an Aryan tongue can appear, and may learn every important truth of
linguistic science. Having learned English in this way and gotten a
knowledge of French and German as collateral helps, the student will
enjoy the best fruits of learning languages — a liberal culture, a critical
knowledge of his mother-tongue, an intelligent insight into the laws of
language, and a key to what is best, usefulest, and most inspiring in
literature.

But, to learn the language in its living power, it is necessary to
study it in its literature. The language is the body, the literature is
its soul ; they can be rightly understood only by studying them to-
gether. In a course of higher instruction in English, grammars, rhet-
orics, and histories of literature, are useful only for reference. It
would be hard to invent a course of study more useless than that
which fills the mind of the student with barren dates and facts in the

88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lives of our great writers, and with the opinions of other men about
their works.

The student must go directly to the literature and study its master-
pieces in their original forms, with the very spelling and punctuation
of the authors. Study each work in the most thorough way : study
every part, every sentence, every line, every word : study every allu-
sion, every illustration, every figure : study every thought, every opin-
ion, every argument : study every fact in the author's life, every fact
in the history of his time, that will help in any way to an understand-
ing and appreciation of the work. No book of extracts should be
used, A work of genius must be studied as a whole. If you can
give but a few days to a writer, study some entire short work in pref-
erence to using extracts from larger works. A student will get far
more profit out of Milton's "lycidas " studied in this way than from
going through " Paradise Lost " in the ordinary way.

Take a play of Shakespeare— what an instrument for the highest
culture ! How rich the rewards of diligent labor in this mine ! What
more inspiring thing is possible for a human mind than to be brought
so near to the foremost mind of all this world's history ? I am not dis-
posed to undervalue the grand literatures of Greece and Rome ; they
mark the highest tide of human thought in the old-world civilization;
and yet, in their combined worth, they are outvalued by Shakespeare
alone — without counting in the worth of Chaucer, Langland, Spenser,
Bacon, Hooker, Milton, Pope, Wordsworth^ Tennyson — may the roll
stretch out " to the crack of doom ! " How unwise in us, in our anx-
iety to teach our children the language of Plato and Cicero, to leave
them in ignorance of the language of their own forefathers ! I trust
the time will speedily come when no man or woman, who is unable to
read at sight a page of English of any age from Alfred to Victoriaj
will be considered liberally educated, whatever else he or she may
know.

Certainly much has been done in the last ten years to encourage us.
In the time of Richard II., in 1385, English was admitted into English
schools as a teaching medium : the close of our century will witness its
full admission into English and American schools as a teaching subject.
The future historian will record the significant fact that in our age the
boys and girls of England and America were for the first time in-
structed carefully in the great classics of their mother-tongue — that
they knew Chaucer, and Shakespeare, and Bacon, as the boys and girls
of Greece knew Homer, and Sophocles, and Plato.

Greek itself was admitted, as a subject of study, into the English
universities in the sixteenth century, only after a long and fierce battle
between the Greeks and the Trojans of that day. "There were many,
then, who from various points of view echoed the sentiment expressed
by the Duke of Norfolk in 1540. ''I never read the Scripture^ said
that adherent of the departing age, ''nor never will read it. It was

PLACE OF ENGLISH IN HIGHER EDUCATION. 89

merry in England before the nexo learning came up ; yea^ Ixoould all
things were as hath been in times past."* Who could laugh at these
words of a strangely troubled spirit? Rather one might weep over
them ; there is a certain pathos in the helpless embarrassment and de-
spair they reflect; but one can see they were not wise, provident
words ; one cannot regret that the ' new learning came up.' But not
altogether unlike is the sentiment sometimes lieard in these days of
like unsettlement and transition."

The old Duke of Norfolk is the prototype of many living men ; from
an undefined dread of the New, they cling to the Old, in helpless,
despairing bewilderment. As the world spins swiftly down the grooves
of change, they become dizzy and sigh for rest. They smile at the
narrow-mindedness of conservatives in other ages, but fail to see the
same weakness in themselves.

" Surely the wise course now is," says Mr. Hales, " not to set our
faces against the incoming studies, but to do our best to regulate and
order their admission. Let us give these strangers a judicious wel-
come. Let us frankly and generously examine what recommendations
they have to advance for themselves. Let us banish utterly and for-
ever from our minds the notion of finality in education. Let us recog-
nize that all our efforts are but tentative, and that we are yet an im-
measurable distance, not only from absolute perfection, but from that
degree of perfection which is attainable. May it not be, indeed, that
we are at present in an extremely rudimentary stage of advancement
in this momentous respect ? — that the question of education is yet in its
veriest infancy ? Perhaps we are yet at the very foot of the mountain,
and have not really commenced the ascent. Not odder, it may be, in
our eyes is the educational system of the middle ages than our present
system will be according to the decisions of posterity. These pos-
sibilities should surely make us, not reckless revolutionists, but thought-
ful, considerate reformers. The changes that are now making will in
their turn perhaps be modified or superseded. There is no such thing
as an educational canon which closes and is complete."

Our King Arthur, the spirit of the age, commands us " to fling far
into the middle mere " the brand Excalibur, the marvelously- wrought
Greek tongue. Let us not, like the bold Sir Bedivere, clouded with
our own conceits, betray our king ; but, while remembering the won-
ders of the brand and admiring its haft twinkling

" . . . . with diamond studs,
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work
Of subtlest jewellery,"

" . . . . strongly wheel and throw it."

•' ' The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.' "

90 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The rising glories of tlie new era far outshine the splendors of the

past.

" Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint
As from beyond the hmit of the world,
Like the last echo born of a great cry,
Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice
Around a king returning from his wars.

Thereat once more he moved about, and clomb
E'en to the highest he could climb, and saw,
Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand,
Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the king,
Down that long water opening on the deep
Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go
From less to less and vanish into hght.
And the new sun rose, bringing the new year."

THE ICE AGE.

By L. p. GEATACAP, Ph. B.

SOME months ago we described very rapidly the principal features
of that widely-extended and enigmatical formation known as the
Drift, and in conclusion indicated an intention to consider the views of
geologists as to its cause, and in particular illustrate the paramount
claims to our acceptance of the so-called Glacial Theory. In this paper
those hypotheses are given, accompanied by a proof of the manifest
power of existing ice -streams, thus offering the most striking argument
for their colossal potency in times when their size and duration were
factors in their influence, fully commensurate with the continental rav-
ages we attribute to them.

A great variety of theories have been submitted to the world as
possible explanations of the appearances we have reviewed, and,
though we cannot occupy ourselves with their discussion, it may be
interesting, from their singularity and number, to enumerate such as
have arisen.

First is the theory of Deluc, who supposed the erratics to have been
thrown upward in the air by the same force that elevated the moun-
tains, and that in their promiscuous descent they rolled and tumbled
everywhere.

Second in order is the hypothesis of De Buch and Escher, who
imagined that an immense deluge swept the bowlders along its surg-
ing course, and landed these blocks upon the acclivities of mountains,
through the stupendous impetus they had acquired in its midst.

^ No. I. was published in The Popular Science MoNTm,Y for January, ISVS.

THE ICE AGE. 91

Third is the presumption of many that they are the wreck of a
mantle of rocks of similar kinds which once covered the surface, and
by different agencies have been tossed into alignments, heaped into
hills, or left undisturbed upon the mountains.

Fourth, Dolomieu supposed that the summits of the Alps, and
those of the Jura Mountains, were formerly connected by a regular
incline, down which the masses of rock rolled, so that bowlders from
the Alps got perched upon the Jura, and that during subsequent con-
vulsions the ground sunk and assumed its present form.

Fifth, Venturi suggested very early the aid of ice, as glaciers and
floating ice, to explain their transportation.

Sixth, a view, received by several, regarded the Jura range to have
been once a level plain at the feet of the Alps, and that, when it had
become strewed with bowlders, torn by frost and torrents from the latter,-
it was elevated into a line of hills carrying up its old accumulations.

Seventh, M. de Buch, developing the first theory, thought that the
erratics were a conseciuence of the elevation of the Alps posterior to the
deposition of the Tertiary,

Eighth, the Noachian deluge was burdened with the responsibility
of their dispersion.

Ninth, glacial action, as explained by Prof. Agassiz.

Tenth, ancient alluvial action, identical in nature with that known
at present.

Eleventh, action, by its tractile strength, of the receding waters of
the ocean, as mountain-chains were successively upheaved above its
surface.

Twelfth, elevation of the arctic seas, which caused a flow of water
from the polar regions, transporting ice loaded with rocks and gravel
southward.

Thirteenth, icebergs.

Fourteenth, an explanation of the phenomena in the United States,
viz., a drainage of a vast inland sea through the valleys of the St. Law-
rence, Hudson, Susquehanna, Ohio, etc., accompanied or followed by a
debacle of ice and drift from the north.

Fifteenth, a change in the axis of rotation of the earth.

Sixteenth, collision with a comet, which extraordinary jolt loosened
the rocks, and rattled them from the mountain-peaks to the adjacent
plains.

Seventeenth, shrinkage of the earth, increased velocity of rotation,
and consequent rush of arctic waters to the equator, carrying bowlders.

In the above enumeration some theories will be observed to have
only a local application, and were originated at a time when the disper-
sion of bowlders was not known to have so universal a character. Of
these seventeen hypotheses we believe it would be impossible to insist
seriously upon more than two classes : those which attribute the phe-
nomena to the action of water, and those which enlist the agency of

92 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ice either as glaciers or icebergs, or both. A slight inquiry into the
nature of aqueous erosion must instantly discredit those views which
rely upon its efficacy, and relegate them with the rest to unqualified
rejection.

Water, though supplied in torrents so tremendous as to transport
the enormous bowlders which are now found scattered so far from their
origin, would toss and tumble these masses over the subjacent rock,
breaking, fracturing, and denting the latter, but never impressing it
with deep, straight furrows for miles, or scoring it with delicate and
reticulatiuGj striae.

Again, the numerous pebbles and stones which are found upon and
through the topmost soils, in gravel-beds and sand-heaps, would have
been smoothly rounded like beach-worn agates, and not, as they really
are, tattooed and etched with fine lines running the length of the stone.
In the grooves of the rock, and in the fine lines of the pebbles, we have
evidence of a body firmly held upon the engraved surface, and passed
along with undeviating directness and irresistible power. Prof. Agas-
siz has traced these flutings upon the rocks of Maine for miles, up hill
and down dale, across rivers disappearing upon one side, and reappearing
upon the other ; and it is beyond possibility to have a plunging torrent
of water, charged with stones and rocks, pursue such continuous and
definite traces over the hardest rock. More than that, the action of
water has been recorded alongside of these very grooves, both in this
country and the Alps, as if to invite attention to the opposite character
of the two inscriptions. The original traces are firm, direct rulings, and
the water-marks beneath them, as in rocky troughs, are waving lines
and cracks of denudation following the relative softness of the rock.

Untenable as this theory is, after such considerations, it seems more
inadequate when we remember that this element was to transport for
leagues masses weighing hundreds and thousands of tons, and to raise
them to almost inaccessible altitudes, to arrange them in long succession
across intervening slopes. We find, on the contrary, that moderate-
sized bowlders have sunk to the bottoms of streams, which have re-
moved the soil and lighter material upon which they rested, allowing
them, otherwise undisturbed, to sink almost vertically to their beds.
Lastly, the high mounds and " horsebacks " associated with this era,
composed of unassorted gravel, pebbles, bowlders, and clay, would have
been arranged in superimposed layers. Their present composition is
almost irrefragable evidence that water had no part in their construc-
tion.

On the other hand, the demonstration of the adequacy of the glacial
theory to account for these phenomena is found only in a study of those
glacial effects which are contemporaneous, or have been witnessed
within the memory of man. By establishing an exact accordance be-
tween these latter, wherever examined, and the indications of erosion
and transportation wide-spread over the continents, we prove the iden-

THE ICE AGE. 93

tity of both, and legitimately conclude that the agency in each case
was the same.

And let us select the Alps, as the first field for our explorations,
renowned for the phalanx of illustrious minds who have studied this
subject there, and famous as embracing those districts where the pres-
ence of traveled blocks first aroused inquiry, and their significance
gave birth to the theory we are testing.

. The Alps cover with their various arms, encircling ranges and sub-
ordinate elevations, all Switzerland ; her lakes are nestled within their
valleys, her rivers spring from their frigid slopes, her cities rest upon
the debris of their attrition, while the strange and romantic loveliness
which surrounds their fields of ice cover it as with a garment of im-
perishable beauty. The Alps are the result of gigantic upheavals,
probably conducted through ages, which succeeded each other through-
out the Tertiary age, and were continental in their extent. The Pyre-
nees, the Julian Alps, the Balkans, the Apennines, and Corsica, were ele-
vated in this series of vast perturbations, a long range of towering moun-
tains whose influence upon physical and social development has been as
marked as the revolution it signalized in the world's topography. Eu-
rope, which had worn the flora of America, then lost it, and the sassa-
fras, liriodendron, maple, and magnolia, failing to survive the climatic
changes which intervened, yielded before the gradual growth of dis-
tinctively European species.

The Alps, after passing up along the eastern boundary of Piedmont,
irregularly in long, deep bends and winding arches, run east and west,
gathering upon their flanks innumerable lesser ranges, and knots of
mountains, or in places subdividing into new and splendid lines of
peaks which, diverging to the north, afterward unite with the parent
chain or melt into the plain of Germany, through successive stejDS. A
great congeries of intermingling and twisting ranges communicates the
original disturbance over Switzerland, and the radiate lines of agitation
may be traced southward upon the plains of Piedmont, through the
Apennines into Italy, and by the Illyrian Alps into Dalmatia. The
Alps inclose valleys and plateaus ; their highest summits are scored by
deep gulches which descend their sides ; and broad crevices, ravines,
and passes, ramify along their slopes. Into these troughs, far above
the snow-line, fed by confluent furrows, the snows of winter have col-
lected, and heaped up layer upon layer accumulated to great depths.
The water of the melted surface percolating through these subjacent
films, an increasing pressure has solidified them to a semi-icy state.
Slowly in these deep fields of snow, by pressure, by alternate thawing
and melting, the molecular condition of the mass undergoes a change,
and becomes compacted into crystalline ice. Before this change is
consummated, the mass of snow, ice, and congealing water, is called
the oi^ve. Thus formed, there emerge from these upper reservoirs vast
sheets of ice which pass down between clifl's and crags, winding oyer

94 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rocky beds, and through the avenues of least resistance, sometimes
fusing together into solid seas amid the mountains, elsewhere stealing
in sinuous and gleaming currents to the plains beneath. These solid
masses, fastened like inexorable wedges into the mountain-clefts,
possess motion, moving like a river, faster at the top than at the bot-
tom, in the centre than along the sides, and in curves fastest upon the
long curve ; they, like rivers, also perform the offices of transportation
and erosion. Long lines of fragments, detached by frost or avalanche,
cover their surfaces in medial and lateral moraines, whose collected
masses are poured over the glacier's extremity, where in stream or
river it ends its course. Immense heaps of debris thus indicate, at the
mountain's foot, the accumulated waste of its substance through the
years of the glacier's slow and perpetual advance, and also record, as
they lie beyond the present wall of the glacier, the past periods of its
greatest extension. They grind the beds they pass over, the walls of
their stony vaults are polished and inscribed, and the bowlders brought
in contact with their stupendous powers of attrition are rubbed into
brilliant surfaces and scored with rigid lines. Thus advancing, crev-
assed, convulsed, and rent into gaping chasms, loaded with blocks of
stone, the glaciers are grinding down the everlasting hills and lowering
the proud summits of their birthplace to the plain. Imagine half a
hemisphere covered by a universal glacier whose powers of abrasion
and transportation are proportionately enlarged : will not the appear-
ances we are attempting to explain be adequately accounted for by so
tremendous an agent ? Let us turn to contemporaneous glaciers of the
Alps and elsewhere for an answer. In mentioning characteristic in-
stances of glacial action the glaciers are referred to by name onl}^, as
our space does not permit their reference to appropriate groups. The
Glacier des Bois, as it projects its frozen tongue like a crystal wedge
within the valley of Chamouni, reveals the mass of debris it has
dragged down with it from the sides of Mont Blanc, in a high and
rocky moraine over whose eminence the glacier pours its broken and
shattered columns. In 1820 this glacier reached its frigid finger
among the cultivated fields of neighboring villages, and in its slow
retreat left an enormous bowlder perched upon a slope, and tracts of
fragments spread in stony desolation up to the doors of the threatened
hamlets. The Glacier of Tacconay has similarly withdrawn to its re-
cesses, but strewed along the path of its former progress groups of
bowlders which reach beyond the Arne. The rocks about are pohshed
and furrowed, hillocks have been moulded into roches moictonnees, and
upon their summits huge blocks deposited.

Seven thousand feet above the sea, upon the Col de Bellevue, erratic
blocks are found, where no tidal force could ever have brought them,
and these mingle with the present moraine of the Glacier de Bionassay,
so that, as Forbes remarks, " it is impossible to say Avhere the erratic phe-
nomenon ends and where the glacial phenomenon begins." The Glacier

THE ICE AGE.

95

de Miage, with its wild and ruffled surface breaking in cataracts of splen-
dor down its steep defile, by its unceasing attrition upon the mountain-
side, and its perpetual transport of bowlders, has piled up, far out in the
valley it occupies, a long and high slope of gravel and rocks, whose im-
pervious sides dammed up the allee blanche and formed Lac Combal.
So immense became the accumulations of debris that they consolidated
into an impregnable hill, around whose base the glacier poured its
divided stream. The Glacier la Brenna in 1767 was much contracted,
while in 1831 new accretions caused it to reach out and attack with such
vigor a promontory in its path as to shatter it with fissures, and compel
the removal of a chapel upon its crest. Upon this same glacier Principal
Forbes has observed the very act of glaciation, its method and effects.
One side of the ice was exposed and found by him thickly set with nod-
ules, pieces of granite as large as cherries, and protuberances of stone,
while beneath this armed surface lay the limestone, over which it had just
passed, with its face finely lined and graven in the direction of the gla-
cier's motion. This glacier, now shrunken from its former imposing
magnitude, once erected below its present terminus moraines of enormous
size, while in its retreat it paved the land, predestined to sterility, with
thickly-scattered fragments. On the west bank of the Mer de Glace,
two hundred and forty feet above the present level of the glacial debris,
traveled rocks lie in morainic alignments, and the bed-rock is scratched
and abraded, indicating an ancient margin of the glacier in days when
its frigid tide was swollen by greater additions and more favorable cli-
mates.

The distinction between aqueous action upon the rocks and mechani-
cal abrasion is easily understood, and their presence readily distin-
guished. Forbes observed a face of limestone marked with grooves
many yards in length, and, nearly horizontal above them, he found the
marks produced by flowing water charged with fragments. The latter
were blunt, irregular, and blotchy, having no continuity, and strikingly
contrasted with the straight rulings below them. Furthermore, the
memorable flood of water which devastated the valley of Bagnes, a mass
over five hundred million cubic feet in volume, which swept up bridges
and houses, snapped trees asunder, and transplanted a colony of build-
ings, was yet unable with all its Titanic violence to move large bowlders
which it encountered even through inconsiderable distances.

In our glance over the glacial fields of to-day, leaving the inferences
from those facts mentioned to be drawn themselves, let us briefly inspect
the frozen valleys and important ice-streams of Norway. The backbone
of the Scandinavian peninsula lies in Norway, reaching from Drontheim
to the North Cape in the long neck of the Kiolen Mountains. This
chain attains in places an elevation of six thousand feet, and again
stoops to less than two thousand, receding at times from the shore-line,
and again pushing out upon the ocean, till, as in the Loffoden Islands,
many of its conspicuous summits stand insulated among its billows.

96 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

North of latitude 08° north the range "scatters," and finally sinks into
slight and timid heights or gradually disappears. South of Drontheim
this central axis unfolds and deliquesces into a series of separate lines
of elevation, forming the wide expansion of Southern Norway which,
thickened and braced by ridges of crystalline rock, held back the force
of the North Sea, and bore the searching pressure of the northern gla-
cier, when in a single and enormous surface it invaded Europe. This
southern extension of the Norwegian highlands has less height than the
narrow fork which enters the north, and is really a succession of table-
lands interrupted by occasional peaks, or narrow and precipitous valleys.
These level floors, barren and monotonous, constitute over forty per cent,
of the surface, reducing the available land for cultivation, roughly esti-
mated, to less than eleven per cent. The coast of Norway along its en-
tire extent is deeply penetrated by a complex sj^stem of fiords, long
channels which wind in almost inextricable detail amid its highlands
and at the base of its loftiest summits. Running for miles inland, and
connected with the labyrinth of straits which fimbriate the shores and
break the outlines with detached islands, these wonderful expanses ex-
pose the most bewitching and lovely scenery which Norway boasts.
Glacier, snow-capped mountain, green fields verdant under cultivation,
villages, and dizzy cliffs, are exquisitely blended into a diversified pano-
rama of sublimity and beauty.

The glaciers of Norway are not so imposing, so numerous, or so
accessible, as those of the AIjds. The peaks are frequently too isolated
and too steep, the valleys too shallow and too small, and the stretches
of table-land too frequent, to permit the best exhibition of glacial forms ;
yet the accumulations of snow are very formidable. The snoAV-fields of
Justedals Bracen, which feed several glaciers, the largest of which is
only one-seventh the size of the Aletsch glacier in the Alps, stretch for
fifty miles upon one range, and cover an area of four hundred square
miles. Sognefield and Ymesfield form imperfect reservoirs of snow,
and generate only inferior though numerous ice-streams, falling off
their declivities through abrupt and narrow passes. The Fondalen
Mountains and the Borgefield both release glacial currents, in some
instances impinging their icy barriers upon the sea, but all subordinate
in interest.

Sulitelma, the highest mountain within the arctic circle, occupies a
conspicuous centre of glacial activity. It dominates over an extensive
region of elevated and snowy ranges, and distributes its frigid emis-
sions on either side to Lapland or to Norway. The peaks of the Lof-
foden Islands reach above the snow-line, but no adequate footing is
afforded for the formation of glaciers, though the islands of Ringvadso
and Kraagen contain glaciers, which in the first instance have pushed
their moraines to the water's edge. If we now examine the actual
evidence of glacial action, we shall find it analogous to that we have
witnessed in the Alps, except that it is perhaps less emphatic. The

TEE ICE AGE. i^y

slaty rock of Norway fails to retain the erosive markings of the ice-
plough, and has lost frequently its graven surface through frost.
Again, the more characteristic traces must be found upon the steep
slopes and narrowed exits of the snow-fields, and these are not always
readily approached.

Along Drontheim Fiord, and in many localities over the shore and
bays, the roches moiitonnees appear repeatedly, and at Sognefiord
the hard conglomerate, rounded into these huge knobs, is graven with
channels and grooves. At Moranger Fiord the impressions increase in
distinctness as we approach the glacial ridges which overhang it. The
Bandhuus Glacier at one time extended to the sea, and the mingled
heap of rocks it pushed before it now lies, a crescent of desolation, in
its old path. One hundred years ago, by local traditions, the Suphelle
Glacier, among the Justedals glaciers, extended across the entire valley
into which it now debouches, and a series of recent moraines indicates
its retreat. About 3,600 feet in front of the Krondal and Nygaard
glaciers, terminal moraines, unmistakably modern, are seen, while the
evidence of their erosive action is found in the increasing definiteness
of the rocky striations as we advance over the land last scored toward
the glacier, this same track being sown with bowlders and pebbles,'
relics of their past ravages. Two hundred feet above the Nygaard, on
the face of the cliff, we can read, as legibly as we do the record of the
fallen tide, the annals of its past increase ; and local tradition, stories of
destruction, removal of villages and houses, corroborate this ocular
examination. In short, in Norway, as in the Alps, the characteristics
of glacial denudation, as seen in the forces now at work, appear to
perpetuate the memory of agencies which, on a magnificent scale,
operated upon continents.

Turning our eyes from the picturesque surprises of the Scandinavian
cliffs and streams, let us fix them upon the multitudinous slopes and
the confused outlines of the Himalaya Mountains, as they rise to the
plains of Thibet, and read their lesson. Here we shall encounter the
same arctic currents cleaving the fissures

" Of vales more wild and mountains more sublime."

Upon their surface we see the same long avenues of bowlders, fed in
their tedious course from every faltering cliff or frost-riven peak, and
their ancient channels indelibly indicated in the disordered debris of
rocks and pebbles filched from quarries leagues away.

The Himalaya Mountains mark the northern frontier of India, and
form the most important section of that long axis of elevation which
reaches from the Bosporus to the Pacific, and separates, as a similar
girdle does in Europe, the northern plains and table-land from the low
peninsulas and milder districts of the south. The Himalayas ascend
to the grandest heights, and in their sublime elevation crown the con-
tinental water-shed with earth's most stupendous peaks. Their passes

VOL. XIT. — 7

98 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

are little lower than Mont Blanc ; their roads are dizzy shelves encircling
more tremendous cliffs, or swinging jimlas spanning frightful gorges,
whose depths seem lost in the bowels of the earth. " There, far above
the habitation of man, no living thing exists, no sound is heard , the
very echo of the traveler's footsteps startles him in the awful solitude
and silence that reigns in these august dwellings of everlasting snow."
Deep ravines penetrate between imposing groups of inaccessible mount
tains, torrents hew out their tortuous courses over precipitous slopes,
and the gathered influx of innumerable lines of drainage gives rise to
the Indus, Ganges, and Brahmapootra, great and sacred streams whose
head-waters here pursue their rocky and dangerous descent to the
plains of India. Between the higher ranges nestle the fertile valleys
of Nepaul, Bootan, and Assam, themselves high table-lands upon the
declivity of the snowy peaks ; and to the east, beneath the alternate
shadows of the Hindoo-Koosh and the Himalayas, reposes the fragrant
vale of Cashmere.

As we approach the mountains we traverse three distinct regions :
the green "Tarai," marshy and insalubrious; the middle country, a belt
of wooded land, arid and with a porous soil ; and lastly, at 10,000 feet,
the dry and unhealthy marais. The nucleal range we find is beset
with numerous branches, whose long axes stretch out in waving and
complicated lines from the central ridge, lie furcating and multiplying
like tree-limbs as they embank the rivers, or surround occasional basins,
into whose fruitful beauty the traveler peers. Clay slate, very micace-
ous, and passing into sandstone with interstratified limestone, forms the
lithological basis of the mountains, and through the passes ramifying
veins of quartz and granite. The tertiary formation extends up the
valleys and laps over the foot-hills. The ascent now becomes strewed
with erratic blocks, and angular bowlders of granite occur far removed
from their origin, while ravines and stream-beds are picturesquely strewed
with transported masses. At times the accumulation of bowlders be-
comes so extensive as to choke the valleys, or rise in confused piles
and in unstable equilibrium for a hundred feet above the brawling
streams which pass between them. The valley of the Shayuk is filled
with these bowlders ; and, after its waters unite with the Indus, their
swollen floods pour through a narrow channel beneath enormous heaps
of angular fragments. Again, about Iskardo, two banks of bowlders
project upon the valley forty to fifty feet high; in fact, along the Indus
immense tracts are covered with granitic masses ; they lie over the allu-
vial land, intermixed indeed with it, and form natural features from
their size. The valley of the Thawar is fairly blocked at one end by
the collection of bowlders, and long hills are composed of such debris.
For almost a day's journey on the mountain-sides, west of Pok, lime-
stone blocks occur in great numbers, transported from indeterminate
distances, as no limestone occurs here in situ. A glacier occurs upon
the Parang Pass, not of large proportions, which, wedged between the

THE ICE AGE. 99

mountains, ruggedly advances, carrying limestone bowlders, and termi-
nating three miles from the head of the pass in a steep precipice one
hundred feet high, where its final burdens are discharged down the
mountain. Snow-beds or small glaciers are of constant occurrence at
the heads of the ravines, and the cool water-brooks which traverse the
slopes spring from their melting edges. In Butna Valley the traveler
passes for two miles among huge bowlders, then crosses a moraine,
and finally reaches a plain encircled by lofty mountains, some of which
reveal resplendent pyramids of snow which " bind " into a glacier, filling
the head of the valley. Its Surface is obscured by masses of rock and
gravel, and beyond its present limits similar proofs of its ravages lie in
bewildering confusion. From the valley of Nubbra the traveler beholds
the encircling peaks brilliant and luminous in the blaze of countless
snow-fields, while icy currents, confluent in larger glaciers, stream from
the distant heights. One of these, approached through avenues of bowl-
ders, is half a mile wide, and black with a coverlid of stones and dirt.
Neio-hborinof ravines conceal kindred masses whose extremities retire
from terminal heaps of bowlders, landmarks of their former expansion.
The magnificent glaciers north of Sassar are conspicuous and famous.
The large glacier passes down the mountain-side, ploughing a deep fur-
row through an alluvial plain and plunging into the Shayuk River, whose
waters eddy and boil from underneath it. Two moraines accompany it,
one of enormous blocks and sixty feet high, outside of its present
shrunken area, formed in the glacier's former strength, and a smaller
one upon it. In furrows, fifteen and twenty feet deep, upon its surface
are sunk strings of rocks imbedded in the icy matrix, and released in oc-
casional showers from its terminal cliflFs upon a talus of fragments thus
accumulated. In the Shigri Valley and at Zanskar, enormous glaciers
are gathered together in companies. Some are literally buried beneath
the extraordinary heaps of rocks and detached slabs which are caught
upon them from shattered cliff and stony avalanche. They work their
way underground, while grass and flowers decorate the desolate cover-
ing which conceals them. The valleys of Thibet show unmistakably
the past presence of extensive glaciers. Moraines and traveled blocks
reach low down into them, often three thousand feet lower than the
existing termini of the glaciers.

If, leaving the inhospitable terraces of Thibet and the sublime and
unrivaled summits of the Himalayas, we traverse the ice-covered table-
land of Greenland, we shall encounter the same phenomena as those
we have examined in the Alps, in Norway, and in India, but so magni-
fied in extent as to become continental, and in a measure reconstruct
the picture of a world hidden beneath a universal mer de glace. Green-
land stretches down from those vast and unexplored regions, whose lim-
its encircle the pole, in a broad wedge-like peninsula, deeply fissured
by fiords and bays, its margins abruptly rising in mural precipices, and
bearing upon its bosom the oppression of an illimitable glacier. From

loo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Cape Farewell, where Greenland rises amid a group of rocky islands,
to more than 1,300 miles northward, and far beyond, where no human
step has trod, a rigid sea of ice sweeps its appalling and silent surface.
The ice piled up upon central axes forces itself outward in vast sheets
and icy currents to the shore. This universal exudation of ice makes
an ice-wall many hundred feet high along the coast, an impressive feat-
ure in that northern land, and a solemn token of the desolation it pro-
tects. At its foot a shelf of ice projects into the water, in places a
smooth table, but more frequently tossed in the wild commotion of con-
fused hummocks straining and grinding together, urged by the resist-
less impetus of the arctic tides.

From the wide central area descend numerous glaciers upon both
the eastern and western coasts, and fimbriate by slow erosion the rock-
bound land. Thus carved, in the long succession of ages, deep fiords
penetrate the country, walled by lofty and inaccessible precipices, and
terminating at the feet of ice-tongues which protrude their burdens of
rock, gravel, mud, and soil, into their waters. In places these dejDosits
shallow the water to great distances ; and far from shore, rounded rocks,
transported from interior highlands, project their polished summits
above the waves. Bowlders of green-stone and syenite, rounded by
friction and brought from remote localities, are scattered over wide
districts. Again, upon the ice-foot which fringes the base of the cliffs,
bowlders, tons in weight, are found, dislodged by frosts from the rocks
above, and comj^osed of magnesian limestone and inferior sandstones,
while elsewhere long backs of rocks are seen abraded and furrowed by
ice-floes and glaciers.

The glaciers occur at the indentations of the shore-line and where
the cliffs decline, affording them approach to the waters. Here break-
ing into gigantic fragments, each one a towering iceberg, or sloAvly
melting in the warmer waters of the sea, they constantly waste away,
and are as constantly replenished from the inexhaustible and overflow-
ing reservoirs they have left. The great conduit from the inland sea
is the Humboldt Glacier, which extends its glassy wall, 300 feet high,
along the deepest water for sixty miles, pouring out incalculable vol-
umes of ice, laden and penetrated with bowlders, trophies of its resist-
less march from hidden and unknown recesses. Kane's Northumber-
land Glacier, interesting from the apparent viscosity of the ice, reaches
from the interior to the coast unbroken, even when subjected to most
unequal and various descents, by any fracture, while in many places
" it could be seen exuding its way over the very crest of the rocks, and
hanging down in huge stalactites seventy or one hundred feet long."
This glacier carried enormous measures of earth, gravel, and rubbish. '
The Great Glacier is rifted in long shelves, which at a distance seem
pressed together, the intermediate crevasses appearing as lines above
one another. As the motion conspicuous in every part of this glacier
successively brings these detached walls to the seas, they are floated

THE ICE AGE. loi

away in trains of icebergs, over whose sides pour streams of water, to
be lost in cavities, wbile torrents gush down their faces, sculpturing
the ice with the facile mimicry of towers, minarets, and spires. Bowl-
ders polished and channeled rocks, submarine moraines, abraded and
excavated chffs, are met with everywhere, and Kane counted forty-one
ledo-es, old beaches marking the recession of the sea, which in their
succession led from the granitic nucleus, formerly the coast-wall, to
the present shore-all typical features of the landscape where glaciers
and ice-caps are no longer found. The scenic effects in Greenland are
wonderful in the extreme. Appalling cliffs rise in barren and frigid
splendor from the broken floors of hummocks, and the peripheral ice-
foot- their summits, corroded by frost, discharge bowlders and dehns
upon the ice beneath, while icebergs in towering and fantastic glory,
crowd the shallowing bays, or press along the coast in weird processions,
marshaled by the shriek of the cracking floes, the crush of their own
dismantled pinnacles, or the thunder of distant avalanches.

Ao-ain, turning our eyes to warmer latitudes, let us direct our ex-
plorations to New Zealand, and learn the corroborative testimony it
offers for this great theory. On the South Islands of New Zealand gla-
ciers rest among the high recesses of its western mountains, upon Mount
Cook, Mount f asman, and neighboring summits, while a glacier from
Mount Tyndall, at an elevation of 4,000 feet, gives birth to the river
Clyde, where its abrupt termination rears an icy wall 1,300 feet long and
120 feet high. The Francis Joseph Glacier from Mount Tasman de-
scends to within 705 feet of the sea-level, exhibiting the characteristics
of all known glaciers. These massive streams are carving with remorse-
less energy the solid rocks, and transporting in their course the trophies
of their labor. Yet, strong and magnificent as they now appear, they are
but the ghosts of those former seas which swept from peak to wave,
and piled upon the flanks of the mountains and the depressions of the
coast the huge moraines and the transported bowlders which appear on
every hand. These heaps of debris and congeries of rocky fragments
lie in the direct extension of the present glaciers, and indicate most
strikingly their origin. Lake-basins and narrow fiords created by the
erosion of prehistoric ice are universal ; and Lake Wakatipu, by the
most indisputable proofs, has been thus dug out of the living rock—
1,400 feet deep— itself but the shrunken outline of a previous sheet of
water that reached into the rock-worn valley below it. Even now the
glaciers of J^Iount Carnslaw, the brief remains of former arctic glories,
now retreated beyond the thermal influences of the lowland, emit two
rattling streams, turbid with the ground powder of the rocks, which, de-
positing their silt at the upper extremity of Lake Wakatipu, are ob-
literating in made land the testimony of past ravages.

Passfng in one broad stride to the opposite, the eastern margins
of the Pacific, we find amid the savage and inhospitable Cordilleras of
Patao-onia new glaciers, and around and beneath them memorials of a

102 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

grander reign than that they now engross. Immense bowlders of basalt,
sixty-seven miles distant from the nearest mountain, pebbles of porphyry,
fragments of granite and slate, border the Santa Cruz River, impede its
course, and lie broadcast upon the plain which rises 1,100 feet above its
bed. From the encircling shores of Beagle Channel, glaciers born upon
the lofty slopes and granitic peaks 4,000 and 5,000 feet above the sea,
push their frozen lengths into the sea, which is shaken into waves as
successive ruptures into the ice launch mimic icebergs upon its surface.
"Almost every arm of the sea," writes Darwin, "which penetrates to
the interior higher chain, not only in Terra del Fuego but on the coast
for 650 miles northward, is terminated by tremendous and astonishing-
glaciers." Old channels, now dry by the elevation of the land, are
diversified with groujDS of traveled blocks, and the bowlders, so well
known, from the distant Andes, lying upon the island of Chiloe, are fur-
ther indications of an action in the past identical with that exerted at
present.

In conclusion, without rehearsing the evidence drawn from the Pyr-
enees or the Caucasus, where glaciers still exist, we see in the northern
and southern hemispheres the imposing remains of primitive areas of
ice which in a more congenial era projected their confluent and inter-
mingling- branches over vast regions of the earth, where, as they have
retreated, they have left irrefragable evidence of their power. We
have observed the same processes at work, the same results produced,
the same methods utilized, in the world about us, and the clearest anal-
ogy compels us to accept a theory which ascribes the morainic debris
piled up in hills and islands, the engraved rocks, the excavated basins,
and the rounded slopes, to an identical though vastly-magnified cause
in times only within the ken of Geology in its retrospective glance of
ages.

»»»

SINGING MICE.

By IIENEY lee.

A FEW days ago I was in\'ited by a medical friend to visit him at
his house, and hear two musical mice sing a duet, the perform-
ance to begin punctually at 8 P. m. I had never heard a singing
mouse, though I had read and been told a good deal of the vocal
accomplishments the little animal occasionally displays ; so I gladly
availed myself of the opportunity, and duly arrived half an hour before
the commencement of the concert. My friend explained to me that
every evening two little mice came out from behind the skirting-board
in his dining-room, and sang for their supper of cheese, biscuit, and
other muscine delicacies, which he took care to place on the carpet for
them always at the same hour. One of them had received the name of
" Nicodemus " — an allusion, I suppose, to a certain furtive visit by

SINGING MICE.

103

night — and the other was known as " The Chirper." To " make assur-
ance doubly sure " that they would fulfill their engagement, and not
disappoint me, their supper had been withheld from them on the even-
ing previous to my visit.

True to time, just as the clock struck eight, and while we were con-
versing, there came from a corner of the fireplace, " Chirp, chirp,
chirp," the same note being repeated several times at the rate of about
thrice in a second, and gradually becoming louder. Presently a slight
movement was visible about one end of the fender ; and, after some
hesitation, a little brown mouse came out upon the carpet, leisurely
sniffed about for its accustomed meal, came close to my chair, looked
wistfully up to my face, and I was introduced to " The Chirper." As a
critic, I am bound to say that " The Chirper's " performance was of sec-
ond-rate quality ; but it was merely a kind of levee de rideau, and the
principal artist was yet to appear.

We had not to wait long. At the conclusion of " The Chirper's "
ineflfective solo, a prolonged trill was faintly heard from behind the
scenes, followed by others, each more audible than its predecessor ; and
ultimately " Nicodemus," the soprano, came forth before the audience,
perfectly self-possessed, and showing no signs of " stage-fear."

The song to which the little creature gave utterance again and
again in our full view was as sweet and varied as the warbling of any
bird. It most resembled that of the canary, but the melody of the
nightingale was occasionally introduced. Every note was clear and
distinct, but withal so soft, so gentle, tender, and pianissimo, that I
can only compare it to the voice of a bird muffled by being heard
through a down pillow. In the room was a canary, whose cage was
suspended in one of the windows. He had settled himself to roost, and
his head was under his wing, but at the sound of " Nicodemus's " sere-
nade he awoke, and listening attentively^, and fantastically leaning
alternately to right and left, peeped curiously down to the floor. I
learned that mouse and bird were intimately acquainted with each
other, and that the former frequently visited his feathered friend and
staid to supper. 'Accordingly, while we looked on with interest and
pleasure, "Nicodemus" climbed up the drawn curtains, entered the
bird's cage, and partook of the seed — the canary showing no symptom
of disapprobation or disturbance, but merely from his perch peering
down on his visitor in a ludicrously quaint and odd manner. During
his supper-time " Nicodemus " obliged us, from the cage, with several
repetitions of his song, " The Chirper," down below on the carpet, oc-
casionally coming in with a monotonous contralto accompaniment, and
sometimes emitting a sound like the squeaking of a corkscrew through
a cork. The two Uttle songsters, having done their best to please us,
were rewarded with all that mice could wish for as components of a
feast, and, after selecting the portions they severally preferred, grace-
fully retired.

104 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The singing of mice has been attributed to various causes : 1. It
has been thought to proceed from disease of the lungs or vocal organs,
and to be akin to the wheezing characteristic of asthma. 2. It has
been propounded that the singers are always pregnant females ; but
this statement has been made on very insufficient data, and may, I
think, be dismissed. 3. Dr. Crisp informed Mr. Buckland that he
thought the singing was caused by a parasite in the liver; and Mr.
Buckland tells me that he has at his museum at South Kensingfton a
specimen in spirits in which this parasite is plainly visible in the liver
of a singing mouse once ahve in his possession. "But," he says, " I am
not at all sure that other mice also who are not musical have not this
parasite." This I believe to be the case, for it is well known that mice
and rats, whether singers or not, are peculiarly liable (perhaps from
their promiscuous feeding) to become the hosts of parasites such as
hydatids in the liver, and trichina in the muscles.

Of course, I can say nothing about the condition of the livers of the
two mice I heard sing last week ; but they did not act as if they were
afflicted with disease of the liver, or any other organ. Brisk and viva-
cious in all their movements, darting now and then back to their hiding-
place, as if to keep open their means of retreat while foraging, they
looked the impersonation of vigorous health and bright activity ; and,
like every one else who has heard them, I feel quite sure that their song
— especially that of " Nicodemus " — is not involuntary, nor the result of
any disease of the respiratory organs, but an intentional and conscious
utterance of a series of notes in musical sequence. As Mr. Buckland
says {loc. cit.), " The song is a genuine song, as good and as musical
as that of a lark on a fine summer morning,"

Prof. Owen tells us that the anatomy of the mouse is very similar
to that of birds ; and all who have seen this little rodent in the act of
singing have noticed that the throbbing of its throat is like that of a
bird in full song, and that it then elevates its snout as a bird does its
beak.

Whether the singing of mice may be due to an imitative faculty
which leads them to mimic the vocalization of birds, I am not prepared
to say. There is great apparent probability in favor of this supposition,
but there is, also, strong evidence against it ; because well-authenti-
cated instances have been adduced of mice bred in captivity, and apart
from any caged bird, having exhibited cajjability of song.

It is remarkable that in almost every case of a singing mouse hav-
ing been seen as well as heard, it has been described as very small,
much browner than the common gray or slate-colored mouse, and as
having very large ears. This exactly applies to my little entertainers,
" Nicodemus " and " The Chirper." They are both very tiny mice,
their coats are very brown (not so much so as to be fawn-colored), and
their ears are abnormally big. I should be tempted to regard the
singing mouse as a peculiar variety, if this idea had not been contra-

SKETCH OF WILLIAM SPOTTISWOODE. 105

dieted by the recorded fact that one out of a litter of common mice
has become a " cantatore " or " cantatrice," while the rest have re-
mained incapable of " favoring with a song."

The fact is that, although singing mice are not very rare, they are
not common enough to have permitted any competent zoologist to note
their birth and parentage, observe their habits in life, and dissect them
after death in a series so complete as to give assurance of scientific
accuracy.

I was amused on reading in a jDaragraph in Nature^ of the 25th
ult., that, in reply to a letter from Dr. Berdier in La Nature, affirming
that mice sing, " a distinguished herpetologist, M. Lataste, suggested
that Dr. Berdier might have made confusion with the singing of a
raniform batrachian, the Boinhinator igneus ; but Dr. Berdier said
there was no marshy ground near the room in which he had heard it,
and he stuck to his assertion," There certainly was no " raniform ba-
trachian, Bomhinator igneus^'' in the comfortable dining-room in Gower
Street, where I was introduced to " Nicodemus " and " The Chirper,"
and one would suppose that the instances of mice having been seen,
as well as heard, singing, have been sufficiently numerous and well
attested to render unnecessary so extravagant an explanation as that
of the " distinguished herpetologist." The subject was, however, re-
garded as worthy of being brought before the Society d'Acclimatation
at its last meeting, when M. Brierre confirmed the observation of Dr.
Berdier, and stated that he had himself heard mice sing, though not
more recently than 1851-53. — Land and Water.

SKETCH OF WILLIAM SPOTTISWOODE.

WE in the present number of the Monthly offer to our readers a
portrait of Mr. William Spottiswoode, F. R. S., D. C. L., LL.D.,
President of the British Association for the Advancement of Science,
at its late session in Dublin.

William Spottiswoode is the son of Andrew Spottiswoode, M. P.,
printer to the Crown and the House of Lords, and prominent in the
history of printing for his earnest encouragement of every invention
tending to perfect that important art. The son was born in London,
January 11, 1825. Having studied successively at the famous public
schools of Eton and Harrow, winning high honors at the latter insti-
tution, he in 1842 entered Balliol College, University of Oxford, and
three years later graduated A. B. as a first-class in mathematics. He
had already made considerable progress in that particular branch of
knowledge, and in 1837 and the following years had printed for circu-
lation among his friends " Meditationes Analytics." He has ever since

io6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

followed with keen interest the progress of mathematical research, and
is an active member of the Mathematical Society of London. In 1846
and 1847 he gained mathematical scholarships at Oxford.

But the death of his father, occurring in the latter year, devolved
upon Spottiswoode the active superintendence of a great printing
establishment, and henceforth he could devote to his mathematical
and other studies only his leisure time ; nevertheless, in sundry de-
partments of learning and science Mr. Spottiswoode has rendered emi-
nent service, at the same time taking an active part in movements
having for their end the promotion of popular education and the social
and material improvement of working people.

His favorite studies, besides the mathematics, are, in physical sci-
ence, light-polarization, to the explanation of which his experimental
researches have greatly contributed ; languages, both European and
Oriental, but especially Sanskrit ; and certain departments of philoso-
phy. Of his philosophical power and insight we have abundant evi-
dence in the elaborate discourse addressed to the British Association
in Dublin last August. (It is published in the Popular Science
Monthly Supple:ment for October.) Mr. Spottiswoode is Honorary
Secretary of the London Royal Institution, and charged with the duty
of arranging its winter courses of lectures on science, art, literature,
etc. He frequently lectures in these courses himself, taking that
means of bringing before the world the results of his scientific stud-
ies. His printed works are " Meditationes Analyticae ; " "A Taran-
tasse Journey " (1857), giving an account of a visit to Eastern Russia;
and " Polarization of Light " (1874). He was Treasurer of the British
Association from 1861 to 1874, of the Royal Institution from 1865 to
1873, and of the Royal Society from 1871 to 1878, in all these positions
happily combining the prudent economy of the man of business with
the open-handedness of the lover of science. He has been nominated
by the Council of the Royal Society to succeed Sir Joseph D. Hooker
in the presidency of that eminent scientific body. Mr. Spottiswoode
was elected Corresponding Member of the Paris Academy of Sciences
in 1876, and honorary degrees of LL.D. and D. C. L. have been con-
ferred upon him by the Universities of Oxford, Dublin, and Edinburgh.
He is a member of nearly all of the great scientific societies of England
— the Astronomical, Geographical, Asiatic, and Ethnological, and of
the Society of Arts. He was Public Examiner in Mathematics at Ox-
ford in 1857-'58, and has acted as an examiner under the Civil Service
Commissioners ; also for the Society of Arts and the Middle-Class
Schools. He has always been a liberal patron of makers of philosophi-
cal instruments, and has thus promoted many an ingenious invention.

CORRESP ONDENCE.

1C7

CORRESPONDENCE.

ELEMENTAEY SCIENTIFIC INSTRUCTION
IN GERMANY.

To the Editor Of the Popular Science Monthly.

THE following commuuication, signed
Charles A. Duvoisin, and published in
a French journal, will no doubt be welcome
to your readers, especially such of them as
take an interest in the scientific education
of the young. B.

Is it not strange that teachers of natu-
ral history, in most countries, have utterly
overlooked the very effective practical scien-
tific instruction which the pupils of Latin
and commercial schools receive already at
a very early age ? I refer to the excursions
which German teachers of science make
every week, into the environs of the cities
whei'e the above-mentioned institutions are
located, with their classes, and to the en-
couragement given to the pupils to make
collections of interesting natural objects.
There is a regular system followed in this
respect, and I declare that its results are in
every way excellent. Let me give here an
account of what I saw in the city of Ros-
tock, the largest city in the grand-duchy of
Mecklenburg-Schwerin, and an import sea-
port on the shores of the Baltic. That city
has a Latin school, or, as they call it in Ger-
many, a gymnasium, whose seven classes
are visited by three hundred pupils, in round
numbers, and a commercial school [Real-
schule), with an equally numerous attend-
ance. In the fifth class of the gymnasium
the boys, who, on an average, are eleven
years old, are taught the rudiments of ento-
mology. Why entomology? Because the
teacher goes out with them every afternoon
and hunts, in the woods and fields of the
environs, beetles, bugs, and butterflies.
Every pupil has with him a small bottle,
filled with alcohol, into which he drops the
insects he catches, and a butterfly-catcher,
the victims of which are confined in a tin-
box fastened to the pupil's leather belt.
The teacher instructs the boys where to
look for beetles, and he not only gives them
the Latin names of those they find, but de-
scribes to them their pecuharities, calls at-
tention to their beauties, and tells his hear-
ers whether they are rare or very common.
When one of the boys is told that he has
found a very rare specimen, he feels as hap-
py and proud as a king. I accompanied
the little fellows one Saturday afternoon on
one of these excursions. It was a pleasant

July day, sunny, but by no means sultry.
The environs of the city consist of oak-for-
ests and extensive meadows. The roads
were rather sandy. All the boys were on
the alert for those wonderful beetles, the
cicindela. They were hard to catch, but
about twenty of them were bagged, or rath-
er bottled up. To my amazement I found
that these eleven-year-old boys were able
not only to give the names of every species
of cicindela, but also to point out their dis-
tinctive marks. For four hours we roamed
over meadows and wooded hills. Every-
where new specimens were hunted for in
their hiding-places, and secured. At last
the boys were tired. They sat down on the
mossy ground of a pine grove, partook of
the sandwiches they had brought with them,
and sang a stirring song. And then ensued
a strange sort of fair. The boys began to
trade off a cicindela for a scarabceus, etc.
" What are they doing this for '? " I said to
the teacher. "To complete their entomo-
logical cabinets," he replied. "What?" I
asked. "Have these little fellows regular
collections of entomological specimens ? "
" Have they ? " laughed the teacher. " There
is not one of them but has his cabinet, and
in not a few of them the entomological fauna
of this part of Germany is very creditably
represented." I could not help thinking
that all this was most excellent and praise-
worthy. The excursions are splendid for
the health of the pupils. They learn in
them practically what many students of col-
leges can acquire only by the hardest of toil,
and even then imperfectly, and the collec-
tions of beetles and butterflies at home keep
the boys out of a great deal of mischief.
In the fourth class of the g}Tnnasium they
teach zoology and mineralogy. I was as-
sured that the largest menageries visited
the city, and that the pupils of the gymna-
sium were among their most frequent and
intelligent visitors. Nearly all of them had
mineralogical cabinets, and I was astonished
to find not a few of the latter filled with the
most valuable and scientifically arranged
specimens. Botany is the special study of
the third class of the gymnasium. The
system of excursions for the collection of
flowers and plants is most religiously pv.r-
sued, and the consequence is that all the
pupils have herbaria well stocked and well
classified. In the two highest classes of the
gymnasium the remaining divisions of sci-
ence are taught. Not a few of the pupils
have excellent physical cabinets, and some

io8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of them have even chemical laboratories
which mauy a professional chemist would
not despise.

Now, is not all this truly admirable and
worthy of imitation ? Is it a wonder that
we find among the Germans so many scien-
tific speciahsts, so many laymen taking the
liveliest and most intelligent interest in sci-
entific researches, so many journals devoted
to popular science ? What do we have in
France instead of all this ? Only a few dry
scientific lessons a week, which repel rather
than interest most of the pupils of our ly-
ceums. Those who achieve eminence in
science afterward have to learn their rudi-
ments in natural history at the colleges, and
then to possess not only a natural procUv-
ity, but also special gifts for that kind of

study. England is in this respect still worse
off than we. The best proof of this is to be
found in the fact that, whenever that coun-
try sends out a scientific expedition, most
of the branches of research have to be in-
trusted to German savants. May our gov-
ernment, which I know to be animated with
the earnest desire of perfecting our system
of instruction in our lyceums, turn no deaf
ear to my humble voice. Let us learn from
our powerful neighbors in Germany. They
appreciate the value of early practical and
theoretical instruction in natural science.
True, they have not so brilliant a galaxy
of scientists as we have in Paris ; but the
knowledge which their youngest pupils pos-
sess in natural history far surpasses that
acquired in our lyceums.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

COFFEE-HOUSES AGAINST RUM-SHOPS.

THE contrasts of the deductive and
inductive habits of mind are seen
in philanthropy as well as philosophy,
and give rise to two schools of reform-
ers. What we may call deductive re-
formers start from general principles,
and many of them never get much fur-
ther. Reformers of this stamp are apt
to be impracticable. Whether their
plans can be carried out, or what the
results may be, concerns them much
less than the soundness of the postu-
lates. If the cause be right, and the
evils and wrongs attacked are undoubt-
ed evils and wrongs, they hammer away
at them, generation after generation,
regardless of anything except that they
are in the line of their duty. This
school has no patience with expediency,
which seeks for the best thing under
the circumstances, because it abhors
the philosophy of circumstances, and
will never compromise high principles.
Reformers of this type generally work
with the tongue rather than the hand,
and their crusades are for the dissemi-
nation of their doctrines. They may
do a great deal of good, but there is a
great deal of practicable good that they
certainly tail to do.

There is another class of reformers

whose habits of thought are more in-
ductive, viz., they study the facts first,
perhaps make trial or experiments with
them, allow for conditions, aim at at-
tainable ends, and form their conclu-
sions on the basis of experience. They
may have just as decisive views in re-
gard to abstract rights and wrongs as
the opposite school ; but, as the world
is constituted, they think that wisdom
consists in following expedient and prac-
ticable courses by which actual results
can be reached. They therefore take
into account many considerations which
the other party ignores, and are apt to
be looked upon as temporizing, make-
shift, and patchwork philanthropists.

These two attitudes of mind are
well illustrated in the temperance re-
form. A large party has been striving
for half a century to eradicate the evils
of intemperance by proclaiming certain
great inflexible principles and insisting
upon their being uncompromisingly
carried out. Immense evils result from
the use of alcoholic drinks as bever-
ages, and it has been thought to extir-
pate these evils by reprobating the use
of anything alcoholic under any cir-
cumstances, and by outlawing the com-
merce in these beverages. The rum-
shops have been denounced, and the

EDITOR'S TABLE.

109

politicians have been called upon to
suppress them. Much good may have
been done ; but drinking habits are still
prevalent, and rum-shops still abound.
The temperance reform, from this point
of view, has been a failure, if by suc-
cess we understand the eradication of
the evils of intemperance. This failure
has been, we think, at least partially
due to the refusal of the master-minds
of the movement to study the various
■ways in which partial advantages may
be gained. Those who view the sub-
ject practically maintain, for example,
that much benefit to the community
would result if the weaker liquors
could be generally substituted for the
stronger, as wine and beer for distilled
spirits ; but this notion has been stern-
ly resisted by the great mass of ardent
temperance reformers as sacrificing first
principles. All alcoholic liquors, they
maintain, are poisonous, baneful, and
to be equally condemned, unless, indeed,
the weakest are not the most danger-
ous. To which the reply is, that these
extreme views are self-defeating ; that
they have been preached imtil the com-
munity is wearied with it, while the
liquor traific still flourishes, and that it
is the part of wisdom to check, dimin-
ish, and circumscribe an evil where it
cannot be wholly removed. Some-
thing might, therefore, be gained, they
maintain, by substituting wines and
beers, containing five or ten per cent,
of alcohol, for whiskey and rum con-
taining forty or fifty per cent.

However this may be, of one thing
there can be. little doubt, that to substi-
tute the use of tea, coffee, and cocoa,
for spirituous liquors, would be a great
gain. In the literature of teetotalisra
thus far there has been but one dieteti-
cal alternative to alcohol, and that is
water. With curses upon alcoholic
drinks, the temperance lecturer has
interspersed copious praises of " clear,
cold, sparkling water." In practice the
abandonment of alcoholic stimulation
has been often accompanied by a resort

to the stimulations of opium and tobac-
co— a change which has in it but few
elements of reform. As an ultimate
fact of man's nature, he is so consti-
tuted that he seeks stimulus of some
kind — some method of breaking the
monotony of the feelings and getting
contrasts in the psychical life. This may
be wrong, and water may be the drink
that should be exclusively patronized
by everybody; but that consummation,
whether desirable or not, is undoubted-
ly remote, very remote indeed. Mean-
time, there would unquestionably be a
great gain in substituting tea, coffee,
chocolate, and cocoa, for alcoholic li-
quors.

Accordingly we are glad to see that
a vigorous movement has been set on
foot to fight rum-shops with coffee-
houses. We have received a very inter-
esting tract from Mr. Charles Collins,
describing the results of experiments
made chiefly in Liverpool, to maintain
a system of " public coffee-houses " and
" cocoa-rooms " for the use of English
laboring men. There is a society in Liv-
erpool for the promotion of this object,
and the pamphlet before us is made up
from its reports.

It appears that twenty-nine places
under the denomination of " cocoa-
rooms " have been opened in Liverpool
under the auspices of this society, by
the employment of a subscribed capi-
tal of $100,000. So successful has been
the enterprise, not only in its favorable
influence upon the habits of the peo-
ple, but also pecuniarily, that ten per
cent, profit on the investment was dis-
tributed to the stockholders last year,
and it is now proposed to increase the
capital of the association to $200,000,
in order to still further extend its op-
erations. The following are some of
the most important suggestions of the
company in regard to the management
of such places, as arrived at by their
own experience :

" 1. It is necessary to provide accommo-
dation for the ■working-classes, men and

no

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

women, on the same principle as the public-
house — free admission to all, a cordial wel-
come, and no more restraint than is required
for the orderly conducting of the house.

"2. It is desirable to have the ground-
floor open on the street level, not up several
steps ; and in the front shop space for a bar,
conveniently placed for customers, within
which the manager and attendants are to be
found. On the counter will stand the large
tins, holding from six to ten gallons, and
kept hot by gas ring- burners underneath.
Behind the bar there should be a sideboard
with shelves for the cups, mugs, and other
utensils, and also for the rolls, cakes, etc.
Here also will be found convenient hot-wa-
ter troughs for washing the crockery imme-
diately after being used.

" 3. The other parts of the room should
be furnished with benches and tables, ac-
cording to the available space ; the benches
are found most convenient 7 feet in length
with backs, the tables, when of strong plain
deal, 6 feet long by 15 inches wide ; when
marble top, 4 feet by 22 inches.

" 4. If there are other rooms to be fur-
nished, tables of the same kind are recom-
mended, but in some cases strong "Windsor
chairs are found more convenient than
benches.

" The premises ought, as far as possible,
to be taken in a locality convenient to the
largest number of workpeople. Attention
should be paid to the thoroughfare, and the
facility of access. Back streets or quiet
neighborhoods, even where rents may be
cheaper, will not answer the purpose.

" 6. The houses should be as nice as pos-
sible— cheerful in appearance, clean, airy,
and with suflBcient space for customers to
approach the bar, and to sit down to eat and
drink at the narrow tables.

" 7. The manager should be one who has
the work at heart — to throw some spirit into
it, and aim at success. He should be will-
ing to take any trouble, and do what he can
to please his customers. He should be
bright, pleasant, friendly, not easily pro-
voked, but able to take cbafF from rough
customers without offense. Withal he must
be reliable for integrity, and must try to
make his influence felt by force of example
rather than by law.

" 8. The other attendants are embryo
managers, and should be trained to the same
qualities. If female attendants are em-
ployed, they must be especially discreet, as
no familiarity should be allowed ; they
should also be clean and tidy in their per-
son. Proper attention should be paid to

the hours of service, so that no undue strain
be put upon willing workers. The plan of
relays of servants meets the case of early
and late hours.

" 9. As the cocoa-room movement is an
effort to counteract the evil of drunkenness
and the baneful influence of the public-
house, it is essential that those in the em-
ploy be bona fide 'abstainers.' No spirits
or alcoholic drinks of any kind are allowed
to be sold or consumed on the jpremises.

It may be added that the rooms are
open to all at five in the morning, so
that men may call on their way to
work, as the early morning cup of hot
cocoa, coffee, or tea, is found to be of
immense advantage. It is said that
many by this means have been saved
entirely from the use of other stimu-
lants. The cocoa, coffee, and tea ai'e
of good quality, and are furnished hot
at the following prices : two cents per
large mug and one cent per small mug
of cocoa and coffee ; tea, two cents per
cup. The large mug contains a pint,
the small mug and the cup contain each
a gill. Newspapers are provided for
reading, smoking is allowed for those
who wish to indulge in it, and separate
rooms for women are said to have been
much appreciated. All the arrange-
ments have been placed on a business
footing, and with an eye to profit.

There is an association in London
for the promotion of a similar object,
and in their circular, entitled " The
Coffee Public-house: how to establish
and manage it," they say:

" Give the workingman a public-house,
where he may meet his friends, and talk and
smoke, and play games with all the freedom
to which he has been accustomed, and where
good coffee and tea — with stimulus and nour-
ishment in them — take the place of beer and
gin, and you set before him for the first time,
plainly, the choice between sobriety and
comfort on the one hand, and dissipation
and wretchedness on the other. If it is pro-
posed to carry on mission-work, it is better
that this should be done in adjoining prem-
ises, rather than in the coffee public-house
itself.

" The rooms should be airy and pleasant,
full of light and color. It is better to avoid

EDITOR'S TABLE.

Ill

giving to the coffee public-house a distinc-
tively class designation, or one wliich might
appear to connect the house with any par-
ticular social or philanthropic movement.

" The plan of partitioning off portions of
the ground-floor, or setting apart rooms for
reading, smoking, or other purposes, though
occasionally useful, does not always work
well. Men like being in a crowd ; isolation
is not to their taste ; and an arrangement of
this kind is apt to lead to overcrowding of
particular rooms while others may be almost
unoccupied. The only other exception to
the foregoing rule is where a room can be set
apart for the accommodation of women and
children, or for youths. Wherever a room
especially for women has been opened, as
in some of the Liverpool houses, the boon
has been highly appreciated. It should be
understood that men accompanied by their
wives may use the women's room, and ev-
ery encouragement should be given to men
who may be disposed to bring their wives
and children to the coSee public -house.
Women should be encouraged to avail them-
selves of the public rooms when no other ac-
commodation has been provided for them."

There is everything to commend and
nothing to condemn in this mode of
promoting the work of temperance.
It proceeds upon the assumption that
there is no use in trying to shut up
dram shops until something else has
been provided to take their places.
Various causes lead to the formation
of intemperate habits, but perhaps the
most powerful are social influences.
Men are gregarious, and as they are
cultivated they become more social and
crave companionship. They meet to-
gether, and wine favors geniality and
convi\dality. If men are to be deliv-
ered from this temptation, they must
be furnished with a substantial equiva-
lent, or places where they can come
together and have some social enjoy-
ment without the temptation of intoxi-
cating drinks. Eeform here begins at
the right end. Its spirit is not ascetic,
but sympathetic, and it cannot fail to
be well received by large numbers who
would not bo influenced by bare moral
inculcations.

It is to bo hoped that the experi-
ment that has proved so successful in

Liverpool will be tried in New York
and other American cities, under such
modifications as the changed circum-
stances may call for. The desirable-
ness of some systematic movement of
the kind is undoubted •, and if it will
do positive good, and pay its expenses
and yield a liberal profit, there ought
to be no difliculty in getting capital for
it, whatever may be the difliculty in
finding competent and trustworthy man-
agers, who will not steal the funds.

THE PROGRESS OF RATIONAL EDUCA-
TION.

It is often impatiently asked wheth-
er the world is really making any ad-
vance in more reasonable views of men-
tal cultivation. The old errors live on
with such a persistent vitality, after
they seem to have been cut up by the
roots, that the question is naturally
raised whether this is a sphere in which
common-sense has any chance against
tradition and superstition. Yet there
are many indications of a decided and
healthful progress in the direction of
greater liberality and the increasing
control of enlightened principles. Take,
for example, the matter of discipline.
It has long been the pretext for con-
serving whatever is old and established
in the schemes of academic and colle-
giate study. Greek, Latin, and classical
studies must be kept in the ascendant
because of their unrivaled and exclusive
potency in mental discipline. The sci-
ences and practical studies must be re-
sisted and repressed to give scope for
those venerable studies that have such
a wonderful eflBcacy in disciplining the
mind. "When it is proved that this is a
groundless claim — when it is shown
that the discipline afforded by classical
study is grossly defective, that it leaves
some of the most important parts of the
intellect not exercised at all, and when
it is proved that modern science has
high claims on still broader disciplinary
ground, what does it seem to avail?

112

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Classical studies are still determinedly
urged on the ground that they aiford
the best possible training of the mind.
It must not be inferred from this
that the truth fails to make headway.
There are plenty of signs that this old
pretense is becoming more and more
rated at what it is actually worth.
Books on education now treat the sub-
ject very differently from what they did
twenty years ago, and one of the ob-
jects of Mr. Bain in the important work
he is now preparing on Education as
a Science, is to bring modern psycholo-
gy to bear upon this doctrine of disci-
pline, to expose its fallacies, and place
it upon a more rational basis. The
London Times^ that steady-going organ
of British conservatism, which never
moves forward except as it is moved by
the progress of public opinion, is begin-
ning to yield on this question. It turns
from the English universities to the
British Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, and eulogizes its edu-
cational influence, making, at the same
time, the important concession that
" Physical science affords an admirable
means of mental training in schools."
There is certamly nothing new in the
proposition, and it is no more true than
before because the Times has indorsed
it ; but the declaration is a significant
index of the progress of educational
ideas.

Another pertinent illustration of the
active spread of rational views upon
this subject is at hand. Scrihner''s
Monthly for September had an excel-
lent article on the waste of effort in
education, taking the ground of Spencer
in his book, that it is still the college
rule to sacriiice the useful to the orna-
mental in cultivating the minds of youth.
The views of the writer are decided,
but he seems to be a good deal discour-
aged in regard to the hope or prospect
of much amendment. He says: "Mr.
Herbert Spencer's views of education,
as contained in his book on that sub-
ject, now for some years before the

public, ought by this time to have made
some impression, and worked out some
practical result. We fear, however,
that it has accomplished little beyond
giving to a wise man, or woman, here
or there, a shocking glimpse into the
hollowness of our time-honored educa-
tional systems." This fear is hardly
well grounded. The exposure of the
defects of the existing systems of edu-
cation is but a small part of the service
to society done by Mr. Spencer in the
preparation of his work. Its main and
eminent value is in the principles it lays
down for the shaping of better methods
of culture. Its chief value is in point-
ing out the way to essentially improve
methods of study. This is strikingly
shown by the fact that the book has
been translated into the different lan-
guages of Europe, in nearly all cases
either by or at the instance of men who
have been officially engaged in the work
of forming and carrying out systems of
public education.

There was lately published in Lon-
don an expensive, two-volume work,
entitled, " Twenty Years' Eesidence
among the People of Turkey : Bulga-
rians, Greeks, Albanians, Turks, and
Armenians, By a Consul's Daughter."
The Messrs. Harper have republished
this very instructive work at fifteen
cents, and so we bought it and read it.
Chapter XIX. is devoted to education
among the Greeks and Bulgarians, and
it is very interesting. After noticing
some of the girls' schools, she proceeds
to describe an /institution, the marked
superiority of which so surprised and
interested her that she gives a very
full account of it, from which we ex-
tract the following :

" I also visited another Greek school at
Salonica, wliich was under the direction of
a Greek gentleman educated in Germany,
who has designed a new educational system,
which, having had a fair trial, will eventu-
ally be adopted in all the educational estab-
lishments of the Greeks. The origin of the
institution does not date further back than
two years, and of all the schools I have

LITERARY NOTICES.

113

visited here and elsewhere, this certainly
struck me as being the best and most perfect
of its kind. The children were divided into
classes, each of which was examined by the
master, the result of which greatly surprised
myself and some friends who were present.
The director, who justly took great pride in
his work, assured us that all these boys
under his care (whose ages did not exceed
eleven), in consequence of the quickness,
facility, and ability with which they re-
ceived his instructions, bad learned in one
year what he had been unable to teach in
double that space of time to children in
Germany. He added that he was con-
stantly called upon to answer a shower of
questions and remarks made by the pupils
on the theme of the lesson, which having
explained, he allows them time and liberty
to discuss the difficult points, until they
have quite mastered them. On their first en-
trance they appear listless and uninterested ;
but, as the love of knowledge is developed
and grows upon them, they often, when
school-time is up, beg permission to remain
an hour longer in class."

This was certainly a curious pheno-
menon to stumble upon among the bar-
barians. "We recommend the troubled
school-hunters, of whom there seem to
be many who can find nothing satisfac-
tory at home, to send their children to
Salonica — the missionaries will convoy
them.

Deeply interested in what she saw,
and being of a turn of mind to look
into causes and seek explanations, she
desired to inform herself further in
regard to the methods of this Greek
teacher, and remarks :

" Very much pleased with all I had seen
and heard in this establishment, I begged
the director to let me have one of the class-
books containing the routine of teaching.
He replied that he had no special work on
the subject to abide by, and that the routine
of lessons, left to his own judgment, had
been combined by him partly from the sys-
tem he had studied in Germany, and partly
from ideas suggested to him by reading the
philosophical works of Herbert Spencer, for
which he appeared to have a great admira-
tion."

The writer in Scrihner''s Monthly
should, therefore, feel encouraged. If
" a new educational system, which,

VOL. XIV. — 8

having had a fair trial, will eventually
be adopted in all the educational estab-
lishments of the Greeks," has been
specially moulded by ideas derived
from Herbert Spencer, it will be no
longer possible to say that his work is
without practical result.

LITERARY NOTICES.

Scientific Memoirs. Being Experimental
Coutributious to a Knowledge of Radi-
ant Energy. By John William Draper,
M. D. Harper & Bros., 1878. Pp. 473.
Price $3.

Those who read the concluding paper
of Dr. Montgomery in the October Popular
Science Monthly, on the present aspects of
the "Problem of Life," will remember the
admirable terms in which he refers to a dis-
covery of Dr. J. W. Draper, which seems to
have a most important bearing on this sub-
ject. Though made many years ago, it is
only now beginning to be appreciated in its
full significance. The last generation has
been especially devoted to the cultivation of
the sciences of radiant energy and of that
plastic, protoplasmic material out of which
the fabrics of all life are spun ; Dr. Draper
anticipated the developments that were to
take place in these fields of inquiry by first
determining, thirty-four years ago, M'hat ray
of the solar spectrum takes effect upon the
green parts of plants to decompose car-
bonic acid — the initiative and fundamental
change that maintains all life processes.
He was the first to decompose carbonic
acid by exposing leaves to the sun in the
actual spectrum, and to prove that it is the
yellow ray that produces the change.

The history of science contains many
interesting illustrations of the appearance
of men of rare and exceptional genius,
whose thoughts pierce the future, and who
spend their intellectual lives far in advance
of their contemporaries. They are the men
who lay foundations upon which others
build, who carve the great outlines of re-
search which other men come to fill up with
details, who open paths of inquiry which
other men pursue to their maturer results.
Dr. Draper is one of these broad original
thinkers whose work has contributed largely

114

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

to mark and to make an epoch in science.
Early trained in chemistry, physics, and
physiology, he pursued these subjects as an
investigator, not only separately, but in
their intimate and complex interactions,
reading the mysteries of life by the light
of chemical and physical principles. From
1836, onward for fifteen years. Dr. Draper
conducted a comprehensive series of re-
searches in the general field of radiant en-
ergy in its chemical relations which had
been at that time but little explored. His
elaborate papers giving shape and direction
to this subtile research were published in
American and foreign periodicals, and won
the cordial applause of his appreciative co-
workers in the same fields. Recognizing
that he was a good deal in advance of his
time, and that years must elapse before the
significance of his results would be under-
stood, he wisely collected his papers and
had them published in a quarto volume, fully
and clearly illustrated. An edition of this
work was printed, but the expensive stereo-
type plates were destroyed in the great con-
flagration of Harper's establishment, so that
no more volumes could be produced. With
the recent progress of the subjects to which
it was devoted, there has been an increas-
ing demand for copies of the work, which
consequently arose in price, and were prixed
by all who possessed them. In these circum-
stances Dr. Draper has thought it best to re-
produce some of the most important papers,
and they are now embodied in this volume
of memoirs. In this he has but done an
act of justice to himself and to American
science, while his volume will prove of last-
ing interest as a contribution to the history
of a most interesting and important branch
of scientific inquiry, which is now under-
going rapid development, and will continue
to be zealously cultivated in the future.

As to the special subjects considered.
Dr. Draper's statement of them in his pref-
ace is so much better than any we could
make that it is here subjoined:

"Amons many other eubjecte treated of in
these pages, the reader will find an investiga-
tion of the temperature at which bodies become
red-hot, the nature of the light they emit at dif-
ferent degrees, the connection between their
condition as to vibration and their heat. It is
shown that ignited solids yield a spectrum that
is continuous, not interrupted. This has be-
come one of the fundamental facts in astronomi-

cal spectroscopy. At the time of the publica-
tion of this Memoir, no one in America had
given attention to the spectroscope, and, except
Fraunhofer, few in Europe. I showed that the
fixed lines might be photographed, doubled their
number, and found other new ones at the red
end of the spectrum. The f;icts thus discov-
ered I applied in an investigation of the nature
of flame and the condition of the snn's surface.
I showed that under certain circumstances rays
antagonize each other in their chemical effect,
and that the diffraction spectrum has great ad-
vantages over the prismatic, which is necessari-
ly distorted. I attempted to ascertain the dis-
tribution of heat in the diffraction spectrum,
and pointed out that great advantages arise if
wave-lengths are used in the description of
photographic phenomena. I published steel
engravings of that spectrum so arranged. I
made an investigation of phosphorescence, and
obtained phosphorescent pictures of the moon.
Up to this time it had been supposed that the
great natural phenomenon of the decomposition
of carbonic acid by plants was accomplished by
the violet rays of light, but, by performing that
decomposition in the spectrum itself, I showed
that it is effected by the yellow. Under very
favorable circumstances, I examined the experi-
ments said to prove that light can produce mag-
netism, and found that they had led to an incor-
rect conclusion. The first photographic portrait
from the life was made by me ; the process by
which it was obtained is herein described. I
also obtained the first photograph of the moon.
I made many experiments on and discovered
the true explanation of the crystallization of
camphor toward the light. When Daguerre's
process was published, I gave it a critical ex-
amination, and described the analogies existing
between the phenomena of the chemical radia-
tions and those of heat. For the purpose of
obtaining more accurate results in these various
inquiries, I invented the chlor-hydrogen pho-
tometer, and examined the modifications that
chlorine undergoes in its allotropic states. Since
in such researches more delicate thermometers
are required than our ordinary ones, I entered
on an investigation of the electro-motive power
of heat, and described improved forms of elec-
tric thermometers. In these memoirs will be
found a description of the method made use of
for obtaining photographs of microscopic ob-
jects, together with specimens of the results
In a physiological digression respecting inter-
stitial movements of substances, I examined the
passage of gases through thin films such as
soap-bubbles, and the force with which these
movements are accomplished, applying the facts
so gathered to an explanation of the circulation
of the sap in plants, and of the blood in animals
Returning to an inquiry as to the distribution
of heat and of chemical force in the spectrum, I
was led to conclude, in opposition to the current
opinion, that all the colored spaces are equally
warm ; and that, so far from one portion— the
violet— being distinguished by producing chem-
ical effects, every ray can accomplish special
changes. This series of experiments on radia

LITERARY lYOTICUS.

115

tions is concluded in this volume by an exami-
nation of the chemical action of burniug-lenses
and mirrors."

The volume is well printed in clear t3-pe,
on good paper, and contains a fine steel
portrait of Dr. Draper — much the best
likeness of him that we have ever seen. It
contains various woodcuts to illustrate ex-
periments which the reader will find a use-
ful accompaniment to the text.

Handbook of Modern Chemistry, Inorgan-
ic AND Organic, for the Use of Stu-
dents. By Charles Meymott Tidy, M.
B., F. C. S. Philadelphia : Lindsay &
Blakiston. Pp. 780. Price, $5.

This seems to be a very good practical
treatise on chemistry, for the use of stu-
dents in colleges and laboratories. It is
well condensed, and judiciously classified.
The author says concerning the work :

"I venture, therefore, to plead my apology
for the publication of these outlines of chemis-
try. Within three months of graduating— in
other words, when ' fresh from the schools' — I
was appointed Joint-Lecturer on Chemistry with
the late Dr. Letheby, at the London Hospital,
consequently my first lecture-notes were pre-
pared when familiar by practical experience
with the wants of a student. Year by year these
notes have been added to, and, to some extent,
rewritten; nevertheless, except in c few in-
stances, I have strictly adhered to the general
plan I first adopted. I submit these lecture-
notes to the profession as the joint experience
of a student and a teacher."

Sound: A Series of Simple, Entertaining,
and Inexpensive Experiments in the
Phenomena of Sound, for the Use of
Students of Every Age. By A. M. May-
er, Professor of Physics in the Stevens
Institute of Technology. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. Pp. 181. With nu-
merous Illustrations. Price, $1.

This volume is the second in Prof.
Mayer's " Experimental Science Series for
Beginners," the first volume of which, that
on " Light," appeared a few months ago.
The " Experimental Science Series," as the
author states, originated in the earnest and
honest desire to extend a knowledge of the
art of experimenting, and to create a love
of that noble art which has worked so much
good in our generation. All attempts, how-
ever, to extend the knowledge of cxperi-
mental science will fail unless these endeav-
ors on the part of scientific men are second-

ed by our teachers ; hence Prof. Mayer
while writing these books, has been con-
stantly actuated by the desire (o assist teach-
ers to become experimenters. " These little
books," Prof. Mayer remarks in his preface,
" will show how many really excellent ex-
periments may be made with the outlay of
a few dollars, a little mechanical skill, and
patience. This last commodity neither I
nor the school can furnish. The teacher is
called on to supply this, and to give it as
his share in the work of bringing the teach-
ing of experimental science into our schools.
AVhen the teacher has once obtained the
mastery over the experiments, he will never
after be willing to teach without them ; for,
as an honest teacher, he will know that he
cannot teach without them. Well-made
experiments, the teacher's clear and simple
language describing them, and a free use of
the blackboard, on which are written the
facts and laws which the experiments show
— these make the best text-books for be-
ginners in experimental science. Teach the
pupil to read Nature in the language of
experiment. Instruct him to guide with
thoughtfulness the work of his hand, and
with attention to receive the teachings of
his eyes and. ears. Youths soon become
enamored of work in which their own hands
cause the various actions of Nature to ap-
pear before them, and they find a new de-
light in a kind of study in which they re-
ceive instruction through the doings of
their hands instead of through the reading
of books. The object of this second book
of the series is to show how to make a con-
nected series of experiments in sound.
These experiments (a hundred and thirty in
number) are to be made with the cheapest
and simplest apparatus that the author has
been able to devise, and they have been ar-
ranged so that one leads naturally to the
making and understanding of the next."
And it must be added that much of the ap-
paratus needed for making the experiments
is such that the student himself may con-
struct it at trifling expense. So much for
the method and principle of the work — a
method which compels the student con-
stantly to employ his own mental faculties of
comparison, generalization, etc., and to be,
in fact, a discoverer of the truths of science,
not a mere passive recipient of instruction.

ii6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fnless the teacher is more than ordinarily
stupid, and addicted to the routine of book-
teaching, the pupil can hardly fail to have
his mental stature increased, his reasoning
powers strengthened, by going over the
course of experiments here laid down. Of
the author's success in carrying out this
scheme, the first volume of the series was
evidence ; and our readers can see from the
copious extracts which we elsewhere pub-
lish in the present Monthly that the prom-
ise made in the preface is more than ful-
filled in the body of the work. Prof. May-
er's text leaves nothing to be desired in
point of clearness, and, where the imperfec-
tion of written speech might cause obscuri-
ty, the illustrations, which are all new and
rigorously exact, will serve to guide the
leader aright.

Proceedings of the Eleventh Annual
Meeting of the Free Religious Asso-
ciation (1878). Boston: The Free Re-
ligious Association. Pp. 90. Price, 40
cts.

Besides the financial reports and the
list of oflBcers for the ensuing year, this vol-
ume contains several more or less elaborate
addresses, among which may be mentioned
an essay by Thaddeus B. Wakeman, en-
titled "The Religion of Humanity," in
which the author explains what that re-
ligion is, and shows how it may be organ-
ized and cultivated upon American soil;
also, an essay by William H. Spencer:
" Religion of Supernaturalism ; why it
should be disorganized, and how it may be
done."

Annals of the Astronomical Observa-
tory OF Harvard College. — Photo-
metric Researches. By C. S. Peikce.
Made in the Years 18'72-]875. Leipzig:
Wilhelm Engelmann. Pp. 181. With
Plates.

Of the five chapters into which this
elaborate work is divided the first treats of
the sensation of light; the second, of the
numbers of stars of different degrees of
brightness ; the third is a record of the
author's original observations with the as-
tro-photometer of ZoUner; in the fourth,
the star-magnitudes given by the different
observers are compared ; and the fifth treats
of the form of the galactic cluster.

In the Wilderness. By Charles Dud-
let Warner. Pp. 175. Price, 75 cts.

If you cannot compass a trip to tha
Adirondacks, this inimitable little volume
of forest sketches is a capital substitute, for
Mr. Warner brings to his work a love of
the woods and a knowledge of their varied
features, rivaling that of "Old Mountain
Phelps " himself. Moreover, subtile humor-
ist as he is, he cannot escape being funny,
and his little volume sparkles with delicate
wit and keen but not unkindly satire from
beginning to end.

Metric Weights and Measures for Medi-
cal and Pharmacal Purposes. Wash-
ington : Government Printing-Office. Pp.
40.

In the Marine Hospital service, medical
officers are now required to employ metric
weights and measures for all medical and
pharmacal purposes, and in this little pam-
phlet are contained rules and tables for the
conversion of quantities according to apothe-
caries' weight and measure into quantities
according to the metric system. The work
will interest physicians and pharmacists,
and will probably be of service in hastening
the general adoption of the metric system
in the United States.

Sound and the Telephone. By C. J.
Blake, M. D. Pp. 12.

In this paper, which was read before
the British Society of Telegraph Engineers,
the author states in part the result of ex-
periments made for the purpose of measur-
ing the vibrations of the disks of the Bell
telephone, and determining the loss of pow-
er sustained in the transmission of sound.
He further compares the vibrations of the
telephone-disk with those of the human
tymi^anum membrane.

American College Directory (1878). St.
Louis: C. H. Evans & Co. Pp. 111.
Price, 10 cts.

This volume contains a list of all the
colleges, seminaries, special schools, etc.,
in the United States, and gives in brief
much essential information concerning each ;
for instance, the number of teachers and
pupils, number of volumes in the library,
value of scientific apparatus, value of build-
ings, etc.

LITERARY NOTICES.

117

Anncal Report of the Xew York Me-
teorological Observatory (1877). By
D. Draper, Director. Pp. 32.

An important feature of this report is
Mr. Draper's remarks upon the rainfall of
New York City. It has been found by ob-
servation that there was an increase of rain
from the date of commencing the observa-
tory records till 1869, and after that year a
steady decrease. The question now arises,
"Does the rainfall of New York still dimin-
ish, will it continue to do so, and does this
variation occur in the early or late por-
tion of the year ? " To which the author re-
plies that from his study of the subject " it
appears that the rainfall of this city will
most probably continue to decrease by
fluctuations for several years to come, and
that the variations are nearly the same in
the two portions of the year."

The Former and Presext Ncmber of our
IxDiANS. By G. Mallery. From " Pro-
ceedings of the American Association."
Pp. 27.

Some Common Errors respecting the
North American Indians. Same au-
thor. From " Bulletin of the Philo-
sophical Society of Washington." Pp. 6.

The errors here exposed and corrected
by Mr. Mallery have regard first to the color
of the aborigines : they are not " red," nor
"copper-colored." Their real prevailing
color is brown. Second error : the opinion
that the Indian believes in a " Great Spirit."
Their common religious system is "poly-
demonism." Third error: that the abo-
riginal race is rapidly becoming extinct ;
the author holds that they are rather on
the increase.

Opening of the Lewis Brooks Museum.
At the University of Virginia, June
27, 1878. Richmond: Printed by or-
der of the Board of Visitors. Pp. 60.

The University of Virginia is indebted
to the late Lewis Brooks, of Rochester, New
York, for the fine Natural History Museum —
building and specimens — which was opened
during the present year. The pamphlet
before us gives a brief history of the found-
ing of the institution, and contains an ad-
dress on " Man's Age in the World," by
James C. Southall, author of the work en-
titled " Epoch of the Mammoth."

Deep-Sea Soundings. A Lecture by Lieu-
tenant-Commander T. F. Jewell, U. S.
N., Claremont, N. II. : Manufacturing
Company print. Pp. 63.

The first material improvement made in
deep-sea sounding instruments was the em-
ployment, by Lieutenant Walsh, U. S. N.,
of a steel wire in place of a hempen cord;
that was about thirty years ago. Since
then sounding has received much attention
from naval officers and scientific men, and
so numerous are the devices contrived for
the purpose of exploring the bottom of the
sea, that the author of the above-named
address finds it necessary, with a view to
presenting a clear history of the subject
within the ordinary limits of an evening
lecture, to confine himself to the achieve-
ments, in this field, of our own countrymen.
From a perusal of the address, it is seen
that American inventive genius has played
i an important part in the improvement of
sounding-instruments.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

Parks and Gardens of Paris considered in
Relation to the Wants of other Cities and of
Public and Private Gardens. By VV. Robinson.
F. L. S. Witb numerous Illustrations. New
York: Macmillan. Pp. 572. .$7.50.

American Ornithnlotry ; or. The Natural His-
tory of the Birds of the United States. By Alex-
ander Wilson and Charles Lucian Bonaparte.
Illustrated with Plates engraved from Drawings
from Nature. Philadelphia : Porter & Coates.
Three volumes in one. Pp. 11T8. $7.50.

Life of George Combe, Author of " The Con-
stitution of Man." By C. Gibbon. London :
Macmillan. 2 vols. Pp. 335 and 404. $8.

A Candid Examination of Theism. By Physi-
cus. Boston : Houghton, Osgood & Co. Pp.
215. $2.50.

What i« the Bible? By J. T. Sunderland.
New York : Putnams. Pp. 1^9. $1.

Goethe : Faust— Erster Theil. Edited, with
an Introduction and Notes, by J. M. Hart. Same
publishers. Pp. 257. 11.25.

The Ethics of Spiritualism. By H. Tuttle.
Pp. 155. 60 cts.

Ferns in their Homos and Ours. By J. Rob-
inson. With Plates and M'oodcuts. Salem : S.
E. Cassino. Pp. 194. $1.50.

Evolution evolved. A Part of "The Prob-
lems of Hnman Life here and hereafter." By
Wilford. New York : Hall & Co. Pp. 133. 50
cts.

Central Ohio Scientific Association. Urbana :
Saxton & Brand print. Vol. I., Part 1. Pp. 100,
with Plates.

Geography of Kentucky. By W. J. Davis.
New York : Van Antwei-p, Bragg & Co. Pp. 16,
with Map and Woodcuts.

American Journal of Mathematics. Pure and
Applied. New York : Sold by Van Nostrand.
Vol. I., No. 3.

Eleventh Annual Report of the Trustees of

ii8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the Peabody Museum of American Archceology
and Ethnology. Cambridge : Printed by order
of the Trustees. Vol. II., Ko. 2. Pp. 230, with
Illustratious.

Observations and Orbits of the Satellites of
Mars, with Data for Epliemerides iu 1879. By
A. Hall. Washington: Government Printing-
office. Pp. 46.

Origin of Comets. By H. A. Newton. From
American Journal of Science. Pp. 15.

Selenide of Bismuth. By J. W. Mallet. From
American Journal of Scunce. Pp. 3. Produc-
tion of Magnesian Nitride by Smothered Com-
bustion of Magnesium in Air. Same author.
Pp. 2.

Paloeolithic Implements from the Glacial Drift
in the Valley of the Delaware, near Trenton,
New Jersey. By Dr. C. C. Abbott. From the
'• Report of the Peabody Museum." Salem :
Printed at the Salem Press. Pp. 32.

Fermented Liquors. By Dr. A. J. Howe.
Pp. 8.

Manual Education. By Prof. C. M. Wood-
ward. St. Louis : G. I. Jones & Co. Pp. 31.

Report on Cold-rolled Iron and Steel. By
R. H. Thurston. Pittsburg: Priuted by Ste-
venson, Foster & Co. Pp. 109, with Plates.

Rate of Earthquake-Wave Transit. By E.
Mallet. From Philosojjhical Magazine. Pp. 4.

A Mass of Meteoric Iron from Augusta Coun-
ty, Virrfnia. By J. W. Mallet. From American
Journal of Science. Pp.2.

Contributions to Natural History. By R. E. C.
Stearues. San Francisco. Pp. 6.

Electric Constitution of our Solar System.
By J. Ennls. From " Proceedings of the Acade-
my of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia." Pp. IT.

Some Seleniocyanates ; Electric Estimation
of Mercury; Some Specific Gravity Determina-
tions. By P. W. Clarke. From American Jour-
nal of Science. Pp.6.

Illinois State Laboratory. Circular of In-
formation. Springfield : State Register print.
Pp. 14,

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

Eflfeets of Oxygen inhaled at Different
Temperatnres. — Dr. B. W. Richardson finds
great diversity in the action of oxygen on
the animal economy according to the tem-
perature of the gas when inhaled. Care-
fully-purified oxygen may be inhaled at 55°
Fab. without a consciousness of the differ-
ence between it and common air. But be-
fore long, even though the products of the
combustion of the animal be all removed,
there is a gradual decline of the animal's
temperature, followed by a tendency to
sleep. At last death occurs in deep sleep.
At a temperature lower than 55", the nar-
cotism produced by the oxygen is very much
quickened. At 32°, in a chamber of oxy-
gen. Dr. Richardson has seen dee_p coma
induced in mice, pigeons, and Guinea-pigs,
within thirty-five minutes of the commence-
ment of the inhalation, death from coma

supervening within an hour. In a raised
temperature (75°), the inhalation of oxygen
may be sustained without coma, indeed with-
out injury, for a considerable time. To de-
termine this point, Dr. Richardson con-
structed a small room that could be steadily
ventilated with pure oxygen gas. In this
room he kept adult warm-blooded animals
on one occasion for three weeks without
being able to observe any variation from
the natural life that could be considered
detrimental. In this instance the blood
was always of the same color in the veins
as in the arteries, viz., of a rich bright arte-
rial crimson. Another experiment showed
that, like heat, electricity modifies oxygen
as a supporter of animal life. Dr. Richard-
son placed three full-grown mice in jars,
each containing a hundred cubic inches of
pure oxygen gas. One of these animals
was placed now in a temperature of 45°
Fah. ; another in a temperature of 75° ;
the third was placed in the same tempera-
ture as the first, but with this diflFerence,
that into the jar containing the animal there
was introduced a pointed copper wire con-
nected with the positive conductor of a
frictional electric machine. When the ma-
chine was set in motion, a brush was pro-
duced at the point of the copper wire.
Every five minutes this electric brush was
excited within the jar. The animal in the
first jar would sleep to death in two or
three hours ; those in the second Hved for
many hours ; in the third the animal fell
into a narcotized condition, but nevertheless
continued to live in sleep so long as the
electrical excitation continued. Under these
conditions it lived for seventeen hours in
gentle sleep, and on being then set free
showed no sign of injury, and lived on as

before the experiment.

*

A Torpedo Transport. — A war-vessel
of an entirely novel character, the Hecla,
lately arrived at Portsmouth, England, from
Belfast, where she was constructed for the
British naval authorities. The Hecla is de-
signed to carry fast torpedo launches and to
follow in the wake of a fleet as a depot,
ready to dispatch her flotilla of small craft
for its protection when needed. She is an
iron vessel, 390 feet in length, and is fitted
to carry six sixty-four-pounder rifled guns.

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY.

119

Oa each side is a broadside port through
which Whitehead torpedoes may be launched.
The after-part below is fitted up as a tor-
pedo workshop. The hull is divided into a
number of water-tight compartments, not
connected, as is the usual mode, with water-
tight doors, entrance being gained from the
upper and main decks. The element of
danger resulting from leaving the connec-
tions open in certain eventualities is thus
obviated, though it is calculated that the
filling of one or two of the compartments
with water would not materially affect the
behavior of the ship. She is to carry six
second-class torpedo-boats. Four of these
boats will be amidships, the chocks on which
they rest running on a tramway. She will
also carry a 42-feet steam launcli and a 37-
feet steam pinnace. . The Hecla will be pro-
vided with booms and nets to protect her
from an enemy's torpedoes — the booms,
when not in use, lying fore and aft against
the side of the ship.

Women and the Study of Science.— Tlie

medical profession in England appears to be
seriously alarmed at the prospect of an in-
vasion of its ranks by womankind. Scien-
tific workers need have no such fears of
their peculiar field being occupied by the
gentler sex, if the " Cambridge Higher Local
Examinations," lately held, are any index
of the disposition of women-students in Eng-
land toward scientific studies : only about
thirty out of five hundred female students,
we are informed by Nature, took the science
subjects ; twenty-one took botany, one failed,
and three obtained distinction ; twenty-six ge-
ology and physical geography, of whom two
failed, and seven were distinguished ; sev-
en geology, one failed, three distinguished ;
nine chemistry, three failed, none distin-
guished. Ten of the science candidates sat
at Cambridge, and among them they gained
ten out of fourteen of the distinctions given.
Miss E. M. Clarke, of Cambridge, was dis-
tinguished in geology, zoology, and botany,
and passed in chemistry. Mathematics got
only twenty-three candidates, of whom four
failed ; only two, however, were placed in
the first class (being Cambridge students),
and two in the second. We are glad to
learn that two new subjects are to be set in
the saience group next year, namely, physics

and physiology, the latter so much needed
in all girls' schools. Also, students will be
allowed to take this group without having
to pass Group A (literature and history)
first, although it will be required for a full
certificate.

Sir Wyville Thomson on Deep - Sea
Soundings.— Sir Wyville Thomson, as Pres-
ident of the Geographical Section of the
British Association, delivered an address, at
the Dublin meeting of that body, on the re-
sults of recent deep-sea sounding. He dwelt
particularly on the facts of ocean circulation
as developed by the Challenger Expedition.
All recent observations, he said, have shown
that the vast expanse of water which has its
centre in the southei-n hemisphere is the
one great ocean of the world, and the At-
lantic with the Arctic Sea, and the JS'orth
Pacific, are merely its northward-extending
gulfs : any physical phenomena atfectmg ob-
viously one portion of its area must be re-
garded as one- of an interdependent system
of phenomena afiecting the ocean as a whole.
Shallow as the stratum of water forming the
ocean is — a mere film in proportion to the
radius of the earth — it is very definitely split
up into two layers, which, so far as all ques-
tions regarding ocean-movements are con-
cerned, are under very difierent conditions.
At a depth varying in different parts of the
world, but averaging perhaps five hundred
fathoms, there exists a layer of water at a
temperature of 40" Fahr., which may be re-
garded as a sort of neutral band separating
the two layers. Above this band the tem-
perature varies greatly over different areas,
the isothermobathic lines being sometimes
tolerably equally distributed, and at other
times crowding together toward the surface,
while beneath it the temperature almost
universally sinks very slowly and with in-
creasing slowness to a minimum at the bot-
tom. With some reservation it may be af-
firmed that the trade-winds and their modi-
fications and counter-currents are the cause
of all movements in the stratum of the ocean
above the neutral layer. All the vast mass
of water, often upward of two thousand
fathoms in thickness below the neutral
band, is moving slowly to the northward ;
in fact, the depths of the Atlantic, the Pacific,
and the Indian Ocean, are occupied by

120

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tongues of the Antarctic Sea, preserving in
the main its characteristic temperature.
The explanation of this seems simple. For
some cause or other as yet not fully under-
stood, evaporation is greatly in excess of
precipitation in the northern portion of the
land-hemisphere, while in the water-hemi-
sphere, and particularly in its southern por-
tion, the reverse is the case : thus one part
of the general circulation of the ocean is
carried on through the atmosphere, the water
being raised in vapor in the northern hemi-
sphere, hurried by upper-wind currents to
the zone of low barometric pressure in the
south, where it is precipitated in the form of
snow or rain, and welling thence northward
in the deepest channels, on account of the
high specific gravity dependent on its low
temperature, it supplies the place of the
water which has been removed.

A New Form of Etercoseopei — It is

known to many people that, by placing the
axes of the eyes parallel, it is possible so to
see stereoscopic pictures without any in-
strument as if we were looking at them
through stereoscopic lenses. To do this,
we may make a small hole in the centre of
each picture, and hold the paper in such a
position that each eye looks through the
hole at a distant object. But with ordinary
stereoscopic pictures this object needs to
be very far off, so that this contrivance is

control of his eyes that, without looking at
any distant object, he will be able to place
the axes of the eyes parallel. Though
either of the above methods would answer
for experimental purposes, neither would
serve as a substitute for the ordinary stereo-
scope ; for if one requires such an incon-
venient arrangement, the other requires too
much trouble in explaiuirg. But I thought
that, perhaps by some happy, simple con-
trivance, we could see stereoscopic pictures
unaided by any lenses, yet without any con-
scious straining of our eyes ; and after re-
peated experiments I found out that, if cor-
responding parts of two pictures were apart
from one another only one inch and a half
or so, and if by means of a partition the
two pictures were so separated from one
another that the right eye will see only the
right picture and the left eye the left pict-
ure, the two pictures will combine just as
easily as with an ordinary stereoscope.

The following is my explanation why
two pictures combine so easily when cor-
responding parts of the two are apart only
one inch and a half or so, while to make
ordinary stereoscopic pictures combine re- ■
quires so great effort :

To combine ordinary stereoscopic pict-
ures unaided by any lenses, the axes of the
eyes must be placed parallel ; but, since it
is not an habitual position of our eyes to
have their axes parallel, this can only be

not a very convenient one ; nor is it de-
sirable to make a hole in the centre of every
picture we wish to see stereoscopically with
our naked eyes. Another method is to make
one familiar with the muscular sensibilities
of the eyes according as their axes converge
or diverge, and to make him acquire such

accomplished by a great effort. But, if to
place the axes parallel requires such an
effort, to make them too convergent requires
equally great effort. Thus to see a single
image of a finger put on the tip of our nose
is very difficult, and to see a single image
of the tip of the nose itself is almost an im-

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY

121

possibility. With the habitual positions of
our eyes, the axes are neither parallel nor
too convergent, and we see dimly two im-
ages of our nose and objects too near our
eyes. Now, when corresponding parts of
two stereoscopic pictures are apart from
one another only one inch and a half or so,
and are distant from our eyes one foot or
so, to combine the two pictures our eyes
are only required to take one of their ttabit-
ual positions ; that is, the axes of the eyes
need only to be so placed as if we were look-
ing at an object distant from our eyes two
feet or so : hence the effort required is very
trifling, even when unaided by any instru-
ment. But when the two pictures are so
separated by a partition that the right eye
can see only the right picture and the left
eye the left picture, the combination of the
two will take place as easily as with an or-
dinary stereoscope. This is, I think, chiefly
owing to the fact that as long as the two
pictures are seen separate^ the picture seen by
each eye is covered by a dim irnaje of the
partition seen by the other eye, and it is only
when they combine that we have a clear and
distinct view of the pictures. — M. Totama.

Natural Selection. — An interesting case
of the operation of the law of natural selec-
tion and the survival of the fittest is re-
counted in the American Naturalist, by S.
F. Clarke. Having obtained a number of the
gelatinous egg-masses of one of our native
salamanders, he placed them in large glass
jars, where they developed rapidly. After
their gills and balancers had developed, they
emerged from the eggs and began their ac-
tive life in the water. A difficulty now ap-
peared— the author could not discover the
proper kind of food. Upon watching the
animals closely, however, he soon found
that they were eating off" one another's gills.
Closer examination showed that among the
many were a few individuals which, although
they came from the same parents and were
subjected to the same conditions while in
the egg, were yet gifted with greater vigor
than most of their fellows. These few
stronger ones ate off the gills of many of the
weaker, and at the same time were enabled
to protect their own gills from mutilation.
These favorable conditions, the large supply
of food, and the better aeration of the blood,

soon began to show their influence upon the
growth of the favored individuals. Within a
week or ten days from the time of emergence
from the egg, these favored few were fifty per
cent, larger than their weaker comrades who
were born upon the same day. Their mouths
had by this time so increased in size that,
no longer satisfied with nibbling off the gills
of their brethren, they now began to swal-
low them bodily. Soon they were ten or
twelve times as great in length and bulk as
their victims.

Carnivorous Caterpillars. — A striking
peculiarity of the caterpillars of Patago-
nian Lepidoptera, namely, their cannibalism,
is noticed by Prof. Carl Berg. All cater-
pillars in Patagonia, of whatever family
or group, prey upon their own kind. He
kept them in captivity, and found that, even
with an abundance of food-plants at hand,
they preferred to devour one another, " hair
and hide ; " they even tear open the cocoons
and prey on the chrysalids. One was ob-
served to devour in twenty-four hours six
or seven individuals of its own species.
This peculiarity of Patagonian caterpillars
is thus explained by the author: During
the summer there are extreme heat and
drought in Patagonia, and these causes,
together with the prevailing dry winds,
parch the vegetation, scanty at best. The cat-
erpillars are in consequence greatly strait-
ened for food, and the struggle for life has
led them to seek some other means of sub-
sistence. Hence their cannibalism, which,
being transmitted by heredity from genera-
tion to generation, becomes a second nature,
and the practices to which they were at
first driven by want they now perpetuate
through habit.

A Battle-Royal among Ants. — F. E. Co-

lenso, of Maritzburg, Natal, in a letter to
Nature, gives an animated description of a
fierce battle between ants, which he found
engaged in mortal combat on his garden-
wall. Among the ants was a considerable
number of larger individuals, " the soldier-
ants " of the same species, and the whole
ant community seemed to be bent on de-
stroying them. A group of little ones
would fasten on to a big one, the latter in
the mean time making desperate efforts to

122

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

free itself. Or a big one would bite several
little ones in two, but after a while the little
ones would have severed all the legs of the
big one, and finally would get on his back
and cut him in two. One combat was es-
peciallj^ noticeable, and is described as fol-
lows by the author: "A big ant walked
along till it met another big one, and the
two shook antennae. Just then a little one
seized hold of a hind-leg of one of these big
ones. Neither took any notice, but contin-
ued a rapid conversation. Suddenly oth-
er small ones came up, when the big one
whose leg was grabbed turned furiously on
the little one and seized him by the middle.
This could not be done until the big one
had doubled himself up ; as soon as he had
hold of his small antagonist, he lifted him
in the air and snipped him in two. Mean-
while all the big one's legs had been seized
by little ones, and the party seemed to turn
over and over, little bits tumbling down off
the wall, now a leg, now half an ant, till
the big one was vanquished. The way in
which the big ant turned on the little one
was singularly indicative of rage. The de-
termined manner in which he laid hold of
the little one was quite human."

How tlie Silk-worm Moth escapes from
its Cocoon. — Having heard a rustling, cut-
ting, and tearing noise issuing from a co-
coon of Aciias luna, the large green swal-
low-tailed silk-worm moth. Prof. A. S. Pack-
ard supposed that the moth must be en-
gaged in cutting its way out of the cocoon.
And as the mode of escape is a subject of
dispute among entomologists. Prof. Packard
determined to observe the moth at its work.
A sharp black point was seen moving to
and fro, and then another, until both points
had cut a rough, irregular slit, through
which the shoulders of the moth could be
seen vigorously moving from side to side.
The slit was made in one or two minutes,
and the moth worked its way at once out
of the opening. Afterward, in examining
two dry specimens of the same moth, this
black point or spine was seen at the base
of each fore-wing; Mr. Packard calls it
sector coconii — the cocoon-cutter. A num-
ber of other members of the sub-family
Attaci having been examined, the sector
was found in them all. In the common

silk-worm {Bomhyx mori), the spines are
not well marked, and they are quite differ-
ent from those in the Attaci, and consist of
three sharp points, being acute angles of
the pieces at the base of the wing.

The Mnsk - Bison. — Ovibos moschatus
(musk sheep-ox, i. e., the musk-ox), as- its
systematic name indicates, possesses exter-
nal characters common to the sheep and
the ox, and hence it has been regarded as
forming the connecting link between these
two species. But, as a writer in Land and
Water points out, the name given to the
animal by Pennant, namely, musk-bison,
more correctly defines its zoological posi-
tion. Of this intei'csting animal, the writ-
er just mentioned says that it measures only
about five and a half feet from the tip of the
nose to the root of the tail. Its average
weight is usually estimated by travelers at
'700 pounds, but the author thinks that 800
pounds would probably be nearer the weight
of the largest individuals. The outer hair,
or fleece, is long and thick, brown or black
in color, frequently decidedly grizzled, hang-
ing far below the middle of the leg. Under-
neath this shaggy coat, and covering all parts
of the animal, though much the heaviest upon
the neck and shoulders, is found a fine soft
wool of exquisite texture, of a bluish-drab
or cinereous hue, capable of being used in
the arts and of forming the most beautiful
fabrics. It is this close under-fur which
enables its wearer to withstand the bitter
storms and piercing cold of arctic winters,
even beyond the seventieth parallel of lati-
tude. The head is large, ending in a rath-
er short muzzle, though remarkably broad
nose, the nostrils being bordered and sepa-
rated by a naked narrow space. The fore-
head is convex, and both sexes are provided
with horns, which are of extreme size, and
not unlike those of the male of the Rocky
Mountain sheep in curve and general ap-
pearance, but lacking the transverse corru-
gations that characterize the latter. In the
male, these appendages approach so closely
together in the centre of the forehead as to
appear to be joined at their bases, as they
undoubtedly are in old age. Leaving the
point of insertion, the horns are directed
outward and laterally, falling down abruptly
on either side of the face, curving slightly

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY.

123

forward through their middle third, and,
opposite the angle of the mouth, turning
sharply upward at the tip. In the female
they are placed farther apart in the skull,
measure much less in circumference at the
point of insertion, and, though they like-
wise fall down and present the same curve
as those of the bull, the points are not in
the least inclined upward, but rather down,
or in the same plane with the hps. They
are powerful weapons, however, serving both
sexes equally well either for offense or de-
fense. They are very broad next to the
skull, but taper swiftly toward the points,
which are very sharp, and present a dull
whitish-yellow color, rough at the basal ex-
tremity, but smooth and shining beyond, and
black at the tips. The average proportions of
a pair of horns are two and a half feet across
from tip to tip, and each two feet in length,
measured from the median line of the fore-
head, to which they are attached by a char-
acteristic boss or protuberance. A pair
frequently weighs upward of sixty pounds.
The tail is very small, and completely hid-
den by the long hair of the voluminous
fleece. The legs, too, are short and greatly
concealed by the long hair of the shoulders
and flank. The feet are four-toed, and
armed with hoofs like all ruminants, the
two anterior and largest being broad and in-
flexed, with sharp cutting edges, and the
posterior or lateral ones, which are but
slightly developed in most quadrupeds, are
considerably prolonged, almost reaching to
the ground; this, with the upward curve
and great expansion, of which the front
hoofs are capable, presents a structure
which, by giving the animal a broader base
to stand upon, prevents its sinking too deep
into the snow, or when traversing boggy
ground. Without this, the musk-ox would
have been as ill-fitted to tramp over the
yielding snow-fields of the north as the
camel to perform long marches through the
burning sands of tropical deserts without
his broad, elastic sole-pad.

Sagacity of the Beaver. — A Mississippi
correspondent of Chamhers's Journal re-
counts several interesting instances of the
sagacity of the beaver, and of the readiness
with which that animal grows accustomed to
the presence of man. At a place near this

correspondent's residence a railroad crosses
some wet, springy ground, where there used
to be several beaver-dams. The line of em-
bankment supplied the place of these dams,
and the beavers, taking the good the gods
provided, worked no more on their own dams,
but enjoyed the pond of four or five acres
which the embankment had made for them.
A year or two since, the railway-workmen
undertook to put a culvert through the em-
bankment and drain the pond, which, after
running freely for a few days, and nearly
emptying the pond, suddenly stopped one
night : the flow had been arrested by the
beavers. The men opened it again, but
once more it was stopped up. This went
on for some time. As the men passed that
way they would open the entrance to the
culvert, and at night the beavers would
shut it up. At length, finding that closing
at the entrance, where their work could so
easily be broken down, did no good, the
beavers moved their dam to the middle of
the culvert, which was some forty feet long,
out of the reach of the poles used to poke
it down. Here was a community of beav-
ers working with express-trains thundering
over their heads !

A Tsefnl Snake. — In " Notes on the Nat-
ural History of Fort Macon, North Caro-
lina," contributed to the "Proceedings" of
the Academy of Natural Sciences of Phila-
delphia, Drs. Coues and Yarrow describe
the king-snake {Ophiboliis c/eiulus), which is
said by the residents frequently to destroy
both rattlesnakes and moccasins, eating its
victims after the conflict is over. For this
reason the king-snake is in great esteem,
and is carefully protected. The fight which
takes place between the ophibolus and the
rattlesnake has often been witnessed, and
is described as follows : So soon as the
rattlesnake sees his enemy, he endeavors to
escape if possible, and, failing in this, he
instantly throws his body into coils. The
Idng-snake approaches swiftly, and moves
around the rattlesnake in a circle, gradually
drawing nearer and nearer, the rattlesn;rf!e
following his motions with his head. The
circular movement of his antagonist appears
finally to disconcert him, for after a time it
is noticed that his movements are less ener-
getic, and at length, in an unguarded mo-

124

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ment, ophibolus throws himself suddenly
upon him and chokes him to death, pulls his
body apart, and devours him. In captivity
the king-snake is very gentle, and it requires
very severe provocation to induce it to bite.
Several specimens which were kept in a
large box could not be induced to eat either
mice, frogs, or toads ; but as several fine
specimens of Ophiosaurus ventralis, kept in
the same box, quickly disappeared, it was
easy to account for the apparent want of
appetite.

The "Tses" of Paim—The question is
often asked, " What is the use of pain ? It
is scarcely conceivable that the infliction has
no object." There are obviously two aspects
of this question : in one Science has an im-
mediate interest; with the other it has a sec-
ondary but not unimportant concern. The
first is essentially physical. What useful
purpose does pain subserve in the animal
economy ? The answer is thrust upon us
by daily observation and experience. There
are two sentinels posted, so to say, about
the organism to protect it alike from the
assaults of enemies without and exact-
ing friends within. The first of these guar-
dians is the sense of fatigue. When this
speaks, there is need of rest for repair. If
the monitor be unheeded, exhaustion may
supervene ; or, before that point of injury is
reached, the second guardian will perhaps
interpose for the vital protection — namely,
pain. The sense of pain, however, is more
directly significant of injury to structure,
active or threatened, than an excessive strain
on function, although in the case of the vi-
tal organs pain occurs whenever the press-
ure is great. Speaking generally, it may
be set down as an axiom that, whatever col-
lateral uses pain may subserve, its chief and
most obvious service to humanity is as a
deterrent and warning sensation to ward off
danger. It is worthy of note, though suffi-
ciently familiar to medical observers, that
the absence of this subjective symptom in
cases of severe injury is too often indicative
of an injury beyond repair. The extinction
of pain is not the highest, although it may
be a generous, impulse. If there were no
guardian sensibility of this nature, it would
be impossible to live long in the world with-
out self-inflicting the most formidable inju-

ries. That pain, in the second place, has
an educational value, as regards the mind
and temper, no one can doubt. Some forms
of pain would seem to be chiefly intended
for this purpose ; but even in this view pain
has a practical interest, because the higher
development of the mind which controls the
body, and of which the brain is the forma-
tive organ, is a process of physico-mental in-
terest governed by natural laws of which
Science is perfectly competent to take cog-
nizance. The subject as a whole is one with
which the physician and physiologist have
much concern. — Lancet.

Discovery of <i ]V'ew Salt -Deposit in
Central New York. — Mr. James McFarlan
announces the discovery of a bed of rock-
salt in the Onondaga salt-group at a locality
thirty-seven miles south of Rochester. The
boring which resulted in this discovery
passed first through 660 feet of shales, then
110 feet of hard rock — sandstone or lime-
stone— then 80 feet of hard limestone, when
salt-water was found. Below this was 380
feet of limestone and shale belonging in part
to the limestones and shales of the upper
part of the Onondaga salt-group ; next, 1,240
feet down, soft shales, 20 or 30 feet thick,
were passed through ; and, finally, the bed
of rock-salt was struck at the depth of
1,279 feet. It had a thickness of 70 feet,
of which 40 or 50 was pure salt. The bor-
ing was continued to the depth of 1,530
feet, down to the Niagara limestone, which
was met at 1,562 feet. Borings are to be
made on the south side of the Syracuse
Valley, in the expectation of striking the
same bed, which there would be found, if
at all, at the depth of only a few hundred
feet.

Distribntion of Spiders. — In classifying
the collection of spiders in the museum of
the Academy of Natural Sciences of Phila-
delphia, the Rev. H. C. McCook discovered
specimens of Sarotes venatorius, a large
spider coming from various localities —
from Santa Cruz (Virgin Islands) to Cuba,
to Florida ; across Central America, Yuca-
tan, and Mexico ; across the Pacific Ocean
by way of the Sandwich Islands, Japan, and
the Loo-Choo Islands, and thence across
the continents of Asia and Africa to Li-

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

125

beria. He noticed that this line of dis-
tribution lies within the belt of the north
trade-winds, and conjectured the existence
of some connection between the two facts.
Probability was given to the conjecture by
the migratory habits of this spider in the
early stages of its growth. The young
spider emits from the spinnerets fine threads
in sufficient bulk to overcome the specific
gravity of the body, and it is borne through
the air like a balloon. We some time ago
gave an account of Mr. McCook's observa-
tions on ballooning spiders. Having found
this spider in localities lying in the track
of the northern trades, Mr. McCook made
an investigation to determine whether the
spgcies is distributed along the entire track,
and also whether it is to be found in
the track of the southern trades. The re-
sult is exhibited by the author in a map
which shows the existence of Saroies vena-
lorius in both belts of the trades, from the
east coast of America, across this continent,
the Pacific, and the whole Eastern Conti-
nent, to the west coast of Africa, thus gir-
dling the globe, with the exception of 54° of
longitude corresponding to the width of the
Atlantic Ocean. The inference is that the
distribution of this spider has been accom-
plished by means of the trade-winds.

The Growth of Mushrooms. — It is gen-
erally supposed that mushrooms grow only
in the night, but those who have watched
them have observed that their growth is
nearly equal day and night. A correspond-
ent writes that not long since a flower-pot
was filled with dirt from the street, a plant
was placed therein and it grew rapidly. In
ten days a small mushroom made its appear-
ance, but in a few hours it toppled over and
perished. On the following day a larger
one of different species was discovered peep-
ing through the soil, and in the morning it
was just above the surface. Before nine
o'clock at night it attained its full height,
nearly four inches, although it was in the
sun several hours, and gradually expanded
its acorn-head into a hollow cone which
united with the hollow stem at the interior
of the apex. Its inner surface was lined
and evenly shirred with a black, velvety sub-
stance which made a fine contrast with the
milk-white, cobweb-like substance of the

outer surface. During the day and night
the head was transformed into an umbrella-
like cap, which collapsed and died on the
fourth day. Others of different species,
made their appearance at dift'erent times,
showing that the streets of a city as well as
the soil of the country are filled with spores
of these seedless and flowerless plants ready
to show themselves whenever the conditions
of germination are favorable. They do not
propagate by seeds — they have none — they
propagate by spores, microscopically small,
which are driven hither and thither by winds
and lodged in various places, and when they
receive the requisite amount of moisture
and heat they germinate and grow to per-
fection, whether it be day or night.

Mercurial Deposit oa Animal Teeth.—

On the teeth of a sheep said to have been
poisoned by the herbage growing in the
neighborhood of a certain silver-mine in
Mexico, Mr. E. Goldsmith, of the Academy
of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, noticed
a peculiar deposit of tartar, which was sup-
posed to consist of silver amalgam. Upon
examination this tartar was found to con-
stitute a thin scale covering the teeth to the
depth of about 0.2 millimetre. Viewed un-
der a lens of moderate power, the deposit
seemed to have been built up gradually from
within. Its lustre was truly metallic. Heat-
ed on platinum-foil it became black, show-
ing the presence of organic matter. Heated
in a tube closed on one end, at first a gray
cloud arose, then water and an oily matter
deposited themselves on the upper or cooler
end of the tube ; lower down near the now
carbonized test a metallic layer was recog-
nized with the aid of the lens. The pow-
dered substance being mixed with carbonate
of soda, and treated in the same way, the
result did not differ. If melted on coal with
the addition of carbonate of soda, there was
obtained a white enamel, but no metal what-
ever. In nitric acid the tartar was soluble
as long as the solution was concentrated;
if diluted with water, a turbidity, caused by
the separation of an organic matter, was
formed. This organic matter was soluble
in caustic ammonia, and from this ammoni-
acal solution it was again precipitable by
nitric acid ; the precipitate was flocculent,
it carbonized when heated, and left no resi-

126

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

due if the heating was prolonged for a suf-
ficient time. The remaining solution from
■which this organic substance had been sep-
arated gave no reaction with hydrochloric
acid, the absence of silver being thereby
proved. A stream of sulphureted hydro-
gen gave a precipitation in which a very
little quantity of sulphuret of mercury was
discerned. Very strong reactions of phos-
phoric acid and lime were observed in the
nitric-acid solution with the ordinary re-
agents. This singular tartar is consequent-
ly not silver amalgam, but the same material
of which teeth are generally made, modi-
fied, however, by the influence of a small
quantity of mercury. That metallic mer-
cury is easily absorbed by the animal econ-
omy is well known ; it seems, however, not
to have been noticed on the outside of the
teeth before.

The Grave-Digger Beetle— In order to
test the strength of the grave-digger beetle
{Necrophorus Germanicus) Mr. Gleditch, an
entomologist, half filled a glass vessel with
earth, into which he put four of the beetles
with a dead linnet. The grave-diggers im-
mediately began to excavate beneath the
dead body of the linnet, shoveling away the
earth on each side. After laboring for near-
ly two hours, one of the beetles was driven
away and not allowed to work again. The
others continued their labor, until one by
one they ceased, leaving only one beetle at
work. Five hours, more hard work was
given by the remaining beetle, who at last
sank exhausted on the earth and rested
from his task, and finally, suddenly rousing
himself, stiffened his collar, and by an ex-
traordinary effort of strength lifted up the
bird and arranged it within the spacious
grave. In three days the grave was finished,
and the bird safely deposited within its nar-
row limits. During a space of fifty days,
these busy workers interred the bodies of
four frogs, three small birds, two grasshop-
pers, and one mole. This singular occupa-
tion, which continues from the middle of
April until the end of October, proceeds
from an instinctive desire for the preserva-
tion of their offspring. Eggs deposited by
the' parent in the substances which they
inter, when hatched, produce larvae, which,
feeding on the carrion which surrounds

them, grow to an inch in length. These in
their turn change into yellow chrysahds,
and lastly into beetles ; and the latter, when
emerged from the earth, begin to dig graves
and inter dead animals for the benefit of
another generation.

A New Mineral White. — For many years
chemists have been trying to find some min-
eral white which might be substituted for
the costly and poisonous white-lead. One
of the substitutes proposed was zinc-white
— oxide of zinc — but the " body " of zinc-
white will not bear comparison with that
of white-lead. Oxide of antimony, and the
silicates of zinc, magnesia, and lime, were
successively tried, but none of these sub-
stances proved to be an adequate substitute.
Mr. T. Griffiths, of Liverpool, has obtained a
mineral white the basis of which is sulphide
of zinc, and which Dr. Phipson pronounces
to be " in every respect superior to carbon-
ate of lead itself," i. e., white-lead. It is
obtained by precipitating either chloride or
sulphate of zinc by means of a soluble sul-
phide— sodium, barium, or calcium sulphide
— and precautions are taken lest any iron
that may be present in small quantity
should be precipitated with tlie white sul-
phide of zinc. The precipitate, being col-
lected and diied, is transferred to a furnace,
there calcined for some time at a cherry-red
heat, and carefully stirred so as to bring all
parts of it successively in contact with the
air. It is then raked out while quite hot,
into vats of cold water, where it is levigated,
and afterward collected and dried. The re-
sult is a very fine white pigment ; its cover-
ing power when mixed with oil is about 25
per cent, higher than that of carbonate of
lead. Phipson's analysis of the new prod-
uct sliows it to be an oxysuiphate of zinc.
This white is not darkened by sulphureted
hydrogen, and its manufacture is perfectly
innocuous.

A Snbstitnte for Gntta-Percha.— We

take from an English journal the following
account of a substance called balata, the
milky sap of the bully-tree, which grows in
the region of the Amazon and the Orinoco :
Balata, we are informed, possesses many
of the characteristics of India-rubber and
gutta-percha ; indeed, it so closely resembles

NOTES.

127

the latter substance in its general proper-
ties, that much of it is shipped yearly from
Guiana and sold for that article, although
in some respects it is greatly superior
to gutta-percha. Like gutta-percha and
India-rubber, this gum is obtained by mak-
ing an incision in the bark of the ti'ee, and
allowing the sap to ooze out and either co-
agulate in a lump or flow slowly over a clay
form so as to produce a " bottle " or any
other pattern that may be desired. Balata
is tasteless, gives out an agreeable odor
on being warmed, is tough and leathery, is
remarkably flexible, and far more elastic
than gutta-percha. It can be softened and
joined piece to piece indefinitely, at a tem-
peratijre of about 120° Fahr., but requires a
beat of 270^ before it melts. It is com-
pletely soluble in benzol and bisulphide of
carbon when cold. Turpentine dissolves it
with the application of heat, while it is
only partially soluble in anhydrous alcohol
and ether. It becomes strongly electrified
by friction, and is a better isolator of heat
and electricity than gutta-percha. Caustic
alkalies and concentrated hydrochloric acid
do not attack it, but concentrated sulphuric
and nitric acids do. A sort of artificial
India-rubber, called " kerite," invented by
A. G. Day, of this city, has recently been
brought to. notice. It is prepared in the
following way : About twenty-seven pounds
of cotton-seed oil and thirty pounds of coal-
tar are mixed together in a boiler, with suf-
ficient heat and for a sufficient length of
time to cause them to unite thorougldy.
The temperature should be about 300°
Fahr., and the time is from three to five
hours. The mixture is then cooled to
■from 200° to 240° Fahr., and then linseed-
oil (twenty-seven pounds) is added. When
the latter has been thoroughly mixed with
the other ingredients, twelve to sixteen
pounds of sulphur is added gradually, the
temperature meantime being steadily raised
to about 275° or 300° Fahr. The heating
is continued till the mass is vulcanized.
When the vulcanization is complete, the
compound is finished, and it may then be
poured into moulds or pans and allowed to
cool for use. The inventor has lately made
some considerable improvements in his pro-
cess of preparing ozokerite, but it would
take too much space to detail them here.

NOTES.

The American Association will next year
hold its meetings at Saratoga, beginning on
the last Wednesday of August. Prof. G. F.
Barker, of Philadelphia, is the president.

Died, September 6th, at Brussels, Ernest
Quetelet, of the Brussels Koyal Observatory,
aged about fifty-three years. Deceased was
the son of the late Prof. Adolphe Quetelet,
the eminent statistician, who w'as the found-
er of the Brussels Observatory, and its di-
rector till his death in 1874.

All the pterosaurian fossils hitherto dis-
covered in the United States are from the
Cretaceous. But in the American Journal
of Science for September, Pi of. 0. C. Marsh
describes a fossil specimen from the Upper
Jurassic of Wyoming which proves the ex-
istence of that class of saurians in the forma-
tion just named. The specimen, which is
in good preservation, is the distal portion
of the right wing metacarpal, and indicates
a small pterodactyl, having a spread of wings
of four or five feet.

A VERT ingenious machine, invented by
James H. Williams, was exhibited this fall
at a Mechanics' Fair in Boston, viz., a
machine capable of indii/ating, six to eight-
times per minute, the superficial area of sur-
faces, however irregular, not exceeding twen-
ty-five square feet. The machine can, for
instance, compute in less than ten seconds
the square contents of a circle without ref-
erence to mathematical rules. It is certain
to find practical application in many depart-
ments of trade. It is specially of use to
leather dealers and manufacturers for meas-
uring exactly the superficial area of hides
and skins.

GusTAV Wallis, the botanist, died at
Cuenca, Bolivia, June 20th, aged forty-eight
years. He first visited South America as a
botanical collector in 1860, gathering new
and useful species of plants, and during the
ensuing eight years traversed Brazil, Peru,
Ecuador, Bolivia, Colombia, Panama, and
Costa Rica. He next visited the Philippine
Islands, but in 1871 he again went to South
America, never to return. He died in a
hospital, in poverty, " worn out in the cause
of science," says Kature. He introduced
into European horticulture no less than 1 ,000
new varieties from across the Atlantic.

Good petroleum (kerosene), according
to Prof. J. Lawrence Smith, should have
the following characteristics : 1. The color
should be white or light yellow, with a blue
reflection ; 2. The odor should be faint
and not disagreeable ; 3. The specific grav-
ity, at 60° Fahr., ought not to be below
0.795 nor above 0.84 ; 4. When mixed with

128

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

an equal volume of sulphuric acid of the
density of 1.53, the color ought not to be-
come darker, but lighter. A petroleum
that satisfies all these conditions, and pos-
sesses the proper flashing-point, may be re-
garded as pure and safe.

The Paris Academy of Sciences has
elected Mr. Darwin a corresponding mem-
ber of the Zoological Section, and P;-of.
Asa Gray a corresponding member of the
Section of Botany.

We have received from Dr. G. E. Black-
ham, of Dunkirk, a report of what was done
at the American Microscopical Congress,
which met at Indianapolis in August. There
were present about fifty microscopists from
different parts of the United States, and Dr.
R. H. Ward, of Troy, New York, was chosen
president. The congress was in session for
four days, August 14th, 15th, 16th, and l^th,
and one of its results was the organization
of a permanent association, " The American
Society of Microscopists." A large number
of papers were read, among which may be
named the following : " On the Limits of
Accuracy in Measurement with the Micro-
scope," by Prof. W. A. Rogers ; " A Stand-
ard Micrometer," by Prof. R. Hitchcock;
" Progress of Microscopic Ruling," by Prof.
J. E. Smith ; and " Construction of Ocu-
lars," by W. H. Seaman. The society will
meet next year at Buffalo.

Prof. Hughes entertains the hope, or
rather thinks it possible, that we shall one
day be able to " tap the brain of its
thought" by means of the microphone!
He holds that all thought is accompanied
by an unconscious action of the articulating
organs, and that therefore it may come to
pass that by a highly-sensitive microphone
the articulate vibrations of the head will be
made audible. Of course, the theory that
unconscious articulation always accompa-
nies thought is purely hypothetical ; but in
these times it is best not to pronounce any-
thing impossible unless it clearly implies a
contradiction in terms — an absurdity.

Experiments made by Messrs. Corenwin-
der and Contamine show that the amount of
sugar in beet-roots is in direct ratio to the
superficial area of their leaves. They fur-
ther show that in the leaves the sugar oc-
curs mainly in the midrib, and that it there
exists in the state of glucose mingled with
a small quantity of crystallizable sugar.
In the secondary veins and in the paren-
chyma the proportion of sugar is far less
considei'able.

The London Academy is authority for
the statement that Mr. Grenville Murray's
recent work, " Round about France," has
been seized in France by the authorities.

Du. Weyl points out in the ChemiscJie
Industrie the defects of the usual methods
of determining the heat-value of fuels, and
recommends, as preferable, decomposition
of the fuel by dry distillation and analytical
determination of the solid, liquid, and gase-
ous products of decomposition. The water,
tar, and gas that are formed are measured
and their heat of combustion ascertained
with the aid of data that have been supplied
by Favre and Silbermann and Deville. The
final result will, of course, exceed the true
combustion-value of the coal by the amount
of heat equivalent to the work of decom-
position into coke, tar, and gas. The decom-
position of the coal should be done as quick-
ly as possible, and at a high temperature.

The French journal La Science pour Tous
reckons the annual importation of ivory into
England at 650,000 kilogrammes, of %hich
about one half is there employed in the arts,
and the other half reexported. The cutlery-
works of Sheffield alone consume 200,000
kilogrammes per year. Tusks vary in weight
from 450 grammes to 74 kilogrammes. To
supply the ivory annually taken to England,
50,000 elephants must be killed. But
though, perhaps, most of the tusks go to
England, very many are exported directly
to other countries and consumed at home.

A PROCESS for treating hop-stems so as
to produce from them textile fibres is thus
described in the Polytechnic Journal : First,
the stems are boiled in water with soda or
soap, then washed again, and once more
boiled in dilute acetic acid. They are then
washed and dried, and when propei'ly
combed can be worked like other textile
materials. The fibres are said very closely
to resemble those of flax, and to excel in
elasticity, softness, and dui-ability.

A WRITER in the London Times asserts
that, by the practice of shoeing horses, we
diminish the sureness of the animal's feet,
and foster all kinds of splints and other
diseases. He maintains that any horse, even
one accustomed to shoes, would very soon
go more easily in every way on our hardest
roads, and with far less liability to slipping
and disease, unshod, than he now does when
shod with iron. All that is necessary is to
" keep the edges of the hoof slightly rounded
off with a rasp, to prevent the raveling-up
of the edges."

Senor Moreno, employed by the Gov-
ernment of Buenos Ayres to explore Pata-
gonia, has discovered a new volcano, that
of Chalten, in the Patagonian Andes, in lati-
tude 49° 8' south, longitude 73° 10' west.
It is a magnificent peak, rising high above
the surrounding mountains, and the natives
report that it is almost always sending forth
smoke and cinders. .

AUGUST HEINEICH PETEEMAITO.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

DECEMBER, 1878.

EDISON'S TELEPHONIC AND ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS.

By GEOEGE B. PKESCOTT.

SOME of tlie discoveries and inventions of Mr, Edison, that were
made during Iiis researches which culminated in the invention of
the carbon-telephone, have already been published. We now propose
to present a more complete description of the important forms of tele-
phone upon which he then experimented, and to describe his more
recent acoustic inventions.

The carbon-telephone is only one of manj' contrivances for repro-
ducing articulate speech at a distance through the aid of electricity,
but, owing to its clear and truthful articulation, its simplicity of con-
struction, and the far greater volume of sound which it creates, is prob-
ably destined to be the most extensively used. Other instruments of
Mr. Edison's invention, however, are not far behind it, and may by
improvement be made equally effective.

As a rule, Mr. Edison has succeeded better with those telephones
which produce a variation in the resistance of the circuit than with
those which depend for their action upon a variation of the electro-
motive force or static charge. An instrument very similar to the car-
bon-transmitting telephone is shown in Fig. 1, the essential difference
being that the carbon is replaced by bibulous paper moistened with
water. This semi-conductor, like the carbon, changes its resistance
under the influence of varying pressure. The paper is kept moist by
capillary action, a strip being used, one end of which dips into a res-
ervoir of water.

In Fig. 2 is shown a form of the carbon-transmitting telephone, re-
quiring no adjustment whatever. It operates well, notwithstanding the
simplicity of its construction. A plate of metal rests on the bottom of
a hollow vessel. On this is placed a block of prepared carbon, upon
which a second and light plate is laid.

TOL. XIV. — 9

130

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The weight of the upper plate affords an initial pressure which is
varied by speaking into the mouth of the vessel.

The carbon-block may be replaced by a disk of cloth, the pores of
which have been filled with pulverized black-lead. By this treatment
the cloth becomes slightly conductive. The instrument thus modified
is shown in Fig. 3.

Fig. 8.

^-^^i|p

/

II ■J^-'^ liV^

Fig. 1.

Fig. 3.

Fig. 4.

Fig. 5.

In Fig. 4 the pulverized plumbago, -P, is floated upon mercury, M,
and is compressed between the surface of the mercury and a metallic
block fastened to the centre of the diaphragm.

Still another form of the Edison transmitter is shown in Fig. 5.
The carbon, C, rests upon the diaphragm, which in this instrument is
an horizontal plate forming the top of a vocalizing chamber, the mouth-
piece being at the side.

Three fine cords attach the carbon to the framework of the dia-
phragm, and prevent it from being displaced when the diaphragm is
vibrating. In appearance this instrument resembles the Reiss tele-
phone, and in principle it would be much the same were it not that, in
vibrating, the carbon never actually leaves the plate upon which it
rests, but simply for an instant releases its pressure. It is evident that
the resistance of the circuit depends upon the electric connection be-
tween the carbon and the diaphragm, '"and that this connection depends

JEDISON-'S ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS,

131

upon the pressure of the carbon, which is constantly changing when
the diaphragm is in vibration.

Another form, acting on much the same principle, is illustrated by-
Fig. 6. It is called the inertia-telephone, though it is hardly certain
that its action is to be attributed solely to inertia. The carbon, C, is
placed between two metallic plates, one of which is fastened to the
diaphragm, and the other is held by a screw, bearing in a framework
attached to the diaphragm by insulating supports.

Fig. (j.

Fig. &

Fig. 7.

When vibrating, the whole system moves, instead of the plate P
alone, as in the ordinary carbon-transmitter. Mr, Edison's explanation
of its mode of action is, that the degree of pressure with which the
carbon rests against the plates is varied during the vibration. Thus,
after a movement toward the right, the diaphragm suddenly stops and
the carbon presses, in virtue of its inertia, on the plate P.

An advantage which the magneto-telephone has over the carbon-
telephone is that its diaphragm does not touch anything, and can
therefore vibrate with perfect freedom. On the other hand, the dia-
phragm of the carbon-telephone presses with considerable force upon
the carbon. In the form shown in Fig. 7 this difficulty is not encoun-
tered.

The diaphragm carries an armature. A, of soft iron, which con-
fronts but does not touch the magnet P. A and P are opposite poles
of the same magnet, being connected at P and polarized by a local
circuit. The magnet P presses upon the carbon at C, the pressure

132 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

beino- reo-ulated by the screw S. The attraction between A and B
varie^s with the distance between them. When, in vibrating, A moves
toward B, the attraction rapidly increases, and B lessens its pressure
upon C. During a motion in the opposite direction the attraction di-
minishes, and B, drawn by the screw S, increases its pressure upon C.

A similar contrivance is illustrated in Fig. 8. The diaphragm car-
ries an armature, A, which by its motion changes the potential of two
electro-magnets. These changes in magnetism cause a bar situated m
their magnetic field to reproduce the original vibrations. The ends of
the bar are held by magnetic force against two pieces of carbon, c and
c These and the bar are included in the primary circuit of an induc-
tion-coil. The resistance of the circuit decreases when the bar is drawn
up, and increases as the bar descends.

The Miceophone.— The device of using several pieces of the semi-
conductor instead of one was early tried by Mr. Edison. He found in
general that the loudness of the sound was increased by thus multiply-
ino- the number of contact-surfaces, but also that the articulation was
impaired. Instruments of this nature have since become known as
microphones, though it is not probable that faint sounds were ever
augmented through their agency. Fig. 9 shows one of the first forms
of the microphone, invented by Mr. Edison, April 1, 1877. Four pieces

Fig. 9.

Fig. 11.

of charcoal are used, G 0, etc., each supported by an upright spring,
as at S and .S'. The piece of charcoal nearest the diaphragm impniges
upon a disk of carbon, which is fastened to the centre of the diaphragm.
The primary wires of an induction-coil are attached to the diaphragm
and the spring S'. The circuit is then completed through the semi-
conductors. Other forms are shown in Figs. 10 and 11. ihe former
has two carbons, separated by a plate of metal. The latter has three
contiguous pieces of carbon.

EDISON'S ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS.

133

Fig. 12 illustrates a microphone having ten plates of silk, a mixture
of dextrine and lampblack having been previously worked into the
pores.

In Fig. 13 fifty disks, D, of protoxide of iron, are shown inclosed in
a glass tube.

A novel form of transmitter, used by Mr. Edison in his experiments,
is shown in Fig. 14. The semi-conductor is a collection of small frag-

r/ '//V>////,//^

Fig. 13.

Fig. 13.

Fig. 14.

ments of cork, covered with plumbago. It can be used with or without
a diaphragm.

The instrument shown in Fig. 15 acts both as a transmitter and
receiver. The solid carbon of the transmitter is here replaced by silk
fibres coated with graphite. Its action as a receiver is probably due to
the attraction of parallel currents ; the volume of the whole being con-
tracted during the passage of a current through F.

In the accounts which have been published of experiments with
the microphone, the statement has frequently been made. that minute
sounds are actually magnified by it, in the same sense that minute ob-
jects are magnified by the microscope. A little reflection will show,
however, that there is no real analogy in the action of the two instru-
ments. The sound that is heard in the receiving-instrument of the
microphone, when a fly is walking across the board on which the trans-
mitter is placed, is not the sound of the fly's footsteps, any more than
the stroke of a powerful electric bell, or sounder, is the magnified sound
of the operator's fingers tapping lightly, and it may be inaudibly, upon
the key. This view of the subject readily explains why the microiDhone
has failed to realize the expectations of many persons, who, upon its
first exhibition, enthusiastically announced that by its aid we should
be able to hear many sounds in Nature which had hitherto remained
wholly inaudible.

Short-Circijitixg Telephones.— a number of the telephones in-
vented by Mr. Edison may be classed together as short-circuiting or

134 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

cut-out telephones. The principle upon which they act may be thus
briefly stated : In vibrating, the diaphragm cuts from the circuit resist-
ances which are proportional to the amplitude of the vibrations. A
transmitter constructed upon this principle is shown in Fig. 16. A
lever, i, of metal, vibrating in a vertical plane, rests at one end upon
a strip of carbonized silk, C, which is part of the primary circuit of the
induction-coil L In the course of its vibrations the lever cuts from
the circuit parts of the silk, the current passing temporarily through

the lever.

Another, acting on the same principle, but differing considerably in
construction, is shown in Fig. 17. A fine wire, W, of high resistance,
is wrapped around a cylinder in a spiral groove.

The wire forms part of the primary circuit of the coil C. A spring,
S, of metal, in the form of an ellipse, is fastened at one side to the
diaphragm, while the other side presses against the uninsulated wire
upon the cylinder. The diaphragm, in moving toward the right, flat-
tens the spring, making it impinge upon a greater number of convolu-
tions than it would if the motion were in the opposite direction. The
resistance of the circuit depends, therefore, upon the position of the
centre of the diaphragm. The disadvantage of this arrangement is,
that either a whole convolution or none at all is suppressed from the
circuit, rendering the current rather more intermittent than pulsatory.

In Fig. 18 a similar spring rests upon a narrow strip of metal on
the surfa^'ce of a glass plate. The film is shown in perspective at F,
and consists of a fine strip of the silvered surface of a mirror, the rest
of the burnished metal having been removed.

The action of this instrument is similar to that of the instrument

shown in Fig. 16. • -n^- m

Still another form of short-circuiting telephone is shown in l^ig. 13.
A spiral spring, W, is wrapped about a cylinder, the diaphragm press-
ino- against the last turn, so that in vibrating the convolutions approach
or recede from each other. A very slight motion of the diaphragm is
sufficient to cause the first few coils to come together ; and m general
the number of coils that thus touch each other is dependent upon the
amplitude of the diaphragm's motion. The wire is included in the
primary circuit of an induction-coil, so that the resistance of the circuit
fluctuates as the diaphragm vibrates.

CojfDENSER-TELEPHONES.— Telephones in which static charge, in-
stead of current strength, is made to vary in unison with the vocal
utterances, have also been tried with success by Mr. Edison. The
forms shown in Figs. 20 and 21 differ only in construction, not m prm-

ciple. . • 1, +1

The former consists of a circular vocalizing chamber, with mouth-
piece at V. The chamber is surrounded with plates, which are con-
nected with each other and to the ground. These plates are free to
vibrate, and are shown in the figure in section, as at P'. Immediately

EDISON'S ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS.

135

behind eacli of these stands a siniihir plate as at P, held at its centre
by an adjusting screw. The outside row of plates is electrically con-
nected with each other and with the battery, which goes to the Hne.

SiQ. 16.

Fig. 20.

Fio. 21.

When the inside row of plates vibrates under the influence of a sound,
the distance between the plates varies and changes their static capacity.
In Fig. 21 the plates are arranged as in the ordinary form of a con-
denser. An initial pressure is put upon them by a screw passing

136

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

through a portion of the solid frame of the instrument. The diaphragm
in vibrating varies the distance between the plates. This alters their
static charge, and aifects also the electric tension of the line. The
resistance of a conductor is dependent upon its shape. If an isometric
block of metal be drawn out into a wire, its resistance may be indefi-
nitely increased. This fact lies at the basis of several ingenious tele-
phones invented by Mr. Edison. The one shown in Fig. 22 is of ex-
ceedingly simple construction. A globule of mercury, 31, rests upon
a slightly concave plate of metal. A needle from the diaphragm in-
dents its upper surface, and, as it vibrates, slightly alters the shape of
the globule. This alteration, though exceedingly small, is sufficient to
vary the resistance of the telephonic current considerably.

It is a peculiar characteristic of a globule of mercury that it
changes its original shape during the passage of a current through it.
Mr. Edison has made an application of this phenomenon in the tele-
phone-receiver shown in Fig. 23. The globule of mercury, 31, is placed,
together with a conducting solution, in a V-shaped tube. The currents
from a transmitter, passing through the contents of a tube, elongate
the mercury. This agitates the liquid and vibrates the float F, which
is fastened to the centre of the diaphragm.

The Voltaic Pile Telephone. — We have shown in Fig. 24 an in-
strument known as the pile-telephone. A piece of cork, A" fastened
to the diaphragm, presses upon a strip of platinum which is attached to
a plate of copper. The latter is one of the terminal plates of an ordi-
nary voltaic pile. The other terminal plate presses against the metallic
frame of the instrument. When the pile is included in a closed tele-

FiG. 23,

Fig. 83.

Fig. 25.

phonic circuit, it furnishes a continuous current. The strength of this
current depends upon the internal resistance of the pile, and the latter
is varied by vibrating the diaphragm.

A convenient and peculiar form of receiver used by Mr. Edison is

UD I SON'S ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS.

137

shown in Fig, 25. It is like the ordinary magneto-telephone, except
that the circular diaphragm is replaced by a strip of thin iron, the
edges having been bent so as to render it stiff. We mention it, simply
because it demonstrates the fact that it is not essential that the dia-
phragm be circular.

A novel and purely mechanical telephone is illustrated by Fig. 26.
In place of a line-wire, the illuminating gas, contained in gas-pipes, is
used. It is calculated for short distances only, as it is essential that

A.

-r'

A. — ^

i

Fig. 26.

Fig. 27.

Fig. 28.

the gas used in communicating oflSces should be drawn from the same
main pipe. In the figure, Pis the main pipe. The telephones are rep-
resented at J' and T'. The instrument is merely a cone fastened by
its apex to the gas-pipe in place of the burner. The larger end is closed
by a thin circular diaphragm. The vibrations are conveyed from one
diaphragm to another through the medium of the gas.

The phonograph and telephone, when combined, form an instrument
known as the telephonograph, of which Fig. 27 is a representation.
The drum of the phonograph is shown in section. The diaphragm,
instead of being vibrated by the voice, is vibrated by the currents
which traverse the helix, H, and which originate at a distant station.
The object of the instrument is to obtain a record of what is said
at the distant office, which can be converted into sound when de-
sired.

The Motograph. — The motograph-receiver, from which we have
been accustomed to hear sounds almost destitute of quality, has, by
a little modification, become an articulating telephone. It works quite
well in conjunction with the Edison carbon-transmitter. In Fig. 28 the
back of the motograph-receiver has been removed, showing its con-
struction. Within the drum D is contained the decomposing solution,

138 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and the covering surrounding the drum is kept constantly moits by
capillary action. A metallic spring attached to the centre of the dia-
phragm rests upon the drum ; Avbile receiving, the drum is revolved by
turning the milled screw at yl. , . , • tt- oq ti.«

A new transmitter for the motograph is shown m Fig. 29. Ihe

point P, projecting from the centre of the
diaphragm, impinges upon a wrapping of
plumbagoed silk, covering a small drum ca-
pable of adjustment by a thumb-screw.

The Carbon-Rheostat. — a very im-
portant application of the property pos-
sessed by semi-conductors of changing their
resistance under varying pressure, is shown
in Fig. 30. The cut represents the new
Edison carbon-rheostat. The instrument is
designed to replace the ordinary adjustable
rheo'stats whenever a resistance is to be in-
serted in a telegraph-line ; as, for example,
in balancing quadruplex circuits.
Fis 31 is a vertical section. It shows a hollow cylinder of vulcan-
ite, containing fifty disks of silk that has been saturated with sizing,
and well filled with fine plumbago and dried. These are surmounted by
a plate of metal, (7, which can be raised or lowered by turmng the

Fig. 29.

Fig. 30.

screw B. The carbon-disks can thus be subjected to any degree of
preslure at pleasure. AVhen inserted in the line, it is ^ -tte^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
iBg no loss of time to obtain any desired resistance. The resistance
can be varied from 400 to 6,000 ohms.

EDISON'S ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS.

139

The Tasimetek. — Fig. 32 shows in perspective the latest form of
the Edison microtasimeter, or measurer of infinitesimal pressure. The
value of the instrument lies in its
ability to detect small variations
of temperature. This is accom-
plished indirectly. The change
of temperature causes expansion
or contraction of a rod of vulcan-
ite, which changes the resistance
of an electric circuit by varying
the pressure it exerts upon a
carbon -button included in the
circuit. During the total eclipse
of the sun, July 29, 1878, it suc-
cessfully demonstrated the exist-
ence of heat in the corona. It is
also of service in ascertaining the
relative expansion of substances
due to a rise of temperature.

In Fig. 33 the important parts
are represented in section, affording an insight into its construction and
mode of operation.

The substance whose expansion is to be measured is shown at A.
It is firmly clamped at ^, its lower end fitting into a slot in the metal

Fig. 32.

plate, M, which rests upon the carbon-button. The latter is in an elec-
tric circuit, which includes also a delicate galvanometer. Any variation

140 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in the length of the rod changes the pressure upon the carbon, and
alters the resistance of the circuit. This causes a deflection of the g-al-
vanometer-needle — a movement in one direction denoting expansion of
A, while an opposite motion signifies contraction. To avoid any deflec-
tion which might arise from change in strength of battery, the tasimeter
is inserted in an arm of the Wheatstone's bridge.

Fig. 33.

In order to ascertain the exact amount of expansion in decimals of
an inch, the screw 8, seen in front of the dial, is turned until the deflec-
tion previously caused by the change of temperature is reproduced.
The screw works a second screw, causing the rod to ascend or descend,
and the exact distance through which the rod moves is indicated by the
needle, N^ on the dial. The instrument can also be advantageously
used to measure changes in the humidity of the atmosphere.

In this case the strip of vulcanite is replaced by one of gelatine,
which changes its volume by absorbing moisture.

The Aeephone. — The arephone, an invention of Mr. Edison's, for
amplifying sound, has already attracted considerable attention, though
as yet it has not been perfected.

Its object is to increase the loudness of spol^en words, without im-
pairing the distinctness of the articulation.

The working of the instrument is as follows : The magnified sound
proceeds from a large diajDhragm, which is vibrated by steam or con-
densed air. The source of power is controlled by the motion of a second
diaphragm, vibrating under the influence of the sound to be magnified.

There are three distinct parts to the instrument :

A source of power — compressed air.

An instrument to control the power.

A diaphragm vibrating under the influence of the power.

The first of these is usually compressed air, supplied from a tank.
It is necessary that it should be of constant pressure.

The second, shown in section at Fig. 34, consists of a diaphragm and
mouth-piece, like those used in the telephone. A hollow cylinder is
attached by a rod to the centre of the diaphragm. The cylinder, and
its chamber, E^ will therefore vibrate with the diaphragm.

EDISON'S ACOUSTIC INVENTIONS.

141

A downward movement lets the chamber communicate with the
outlet H, an upward movement with the outlet G. The compressed
air enters at A, and fills the chamber, which, in its normal position, has
no outlet. Every downward vibration of the diaphragm will thus con-

FiG. 34.

dense the air in the pipe C, at the same time allowing the air in S to
escape via F. An upward movement condenses the air in C, but
opens I.

The third and last part is shown in section in Fig. 35. It consists
of a cylinder and piston, jP, like that employed in an ordinary engine.

Fro. 35.

The piston-rod is attached to the centre of a large diaphragm, D. The
pipes C and B are continuations of those designated in Fig. 34 by the
same letters. The pipe C communicates with one chamber of the cylin-
der, and B with the other. The piston, moving under the influence of
the compressed air, moves also the diaphragm, its vibrations being, in
number and duration, identical with those of the dia2-)hragm in the
mouth-piece.

,42 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The loudness of the sound emitted through the directing tube, F, is
dependent on the size of the diaphragm and the power which moves it.
The former of them is made very large, and the latter can be mcreased
to many hundred pounds' pressure.

The Harmonic Engine.— This instrument is shown in Fig. 36. Mr.
Edison claims that ninety per cent, of the power derived from the bat-

FiG. 36.

tery is utilized through its agency. The parts of the machine are : a
tuning-fork of large dimensions, vibrating about thirty-five times a
second, and carrying on each arm a weight of thirty-five pounds. The
amplitude of the vibration is about one-eighth of an inch, and he vibra-
tions are sustained by means of two very small electro-magnets, placed
near the end of each arm. These magnets are connected in circuit with
each other, and with a commutator worked by one of the arms

Small branches extend from the fork-arms into a box contaming a
miniature pump having two pistons, one attached to each arm Each
stroke of the pump raises a very small quantity of water, but this is
compensated f o'r by'the rapidity of the strokes Mr. Edison proposes
to compress air with the harmonic engine, and use it as a motor foi
propelhng sewing-machines and other light machinery. It appears to
be considerably m advance of other electric cngmes, and through its
agency electricity may yet become a valuable motive-power.

FE VER-FA CTORIES. 1 43

FEVER -FACTOKIES.

By F. L. OSWALD, M, D.

THE prediction of the N'eio Orleans Medical Journal, that the vital
and material losses of the Southern States by the last epidemic
would exceed the costs of our Mexican War/ has been fully verified,
but by its very magnitude the calamity may prove a less unqualified
evil if it should help to open our ejes to the true nature and the origin
of what has too long been considered a mysterious and unavoidable
plague.

The hope of solving the riddle of the periodicity and topographical
predilections of the fever-fiend suggested a careful comparison of the
pathological statistics of our Spanish- American neighbors with those
of our Southern lowlands ; and these studies have revealed some curi-
ous facts, which the correspondents of our medical periodicals have cor-
roborated rather than exjilained.

It appears that a disease which our ablest physicians have described
as intensified malaria, has by no means confined itself to the malarious,
i. e., swampy regions of the Atlantic slope, but in a great majority of
cases may be traced to a city, or a well-drained but thickly-populated
district, where the dietetic and domestic habits of the Caucasian race
predominate over those of the American aborigines. Among many of
the Indian tribes that inhabit the marshy lowlands and humid coast-
forests of our continent, fevers are, on the other hand, wholly unknown ;
while Europeans who visit such regions, or natives who adopt Euro-
pean modes of life, become liable to a variety of enteric disorders.

Vera Cruz, la Ciudad de los 3Iuertos, " the City of the Dead," as
the Mexicans call it, on account of the frequency of its yellow-fever
epidemics, is situated on a barren and extremely dry coast, remote
from all swamps, and surrounded by arid sand-hills ; while the natives
of the peninsula of Yucatan, with its swamps and inundated virgin
forests, are considered to be the healthiest and hardiest portion of the
Mexican population. La Guayra, Caracas, and Santiago de Cuba, in
spite of their mountainous environs, complain of the terrible regularity
of their autumnal epidemics ; but in the valley of the Amazon fevers
were unknown before the arrival of the European colonists, and are
still monopolized by the Creoles and negroes of the larger settlements.
The forest tribes of the Madeira, says Bonpland, cautioned the mis-

' The territorial acquisitions of the United States in 1848 were achieved at a cost of
15,350 human lives, and a direct and indirect expense of 8123,000,000— a sum which
was more than repaid by the California revenues of the next ten years. Total deaths by
yellow fever from August 5 to October 5, 1878, 17,012. Direct and indirect losses (with-
out any prospective compensation) of the city of Xew Orleans alone, $16,000,000 —
about one-tenth of the loss total to the Mississippi Valley from Memphis to the Delta.

144 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sionaries against the use of animal food, and warned them that it would
produce a disease which, like original sin, could only be cured by bap-
tism, i. e,, frequent shower-baths and invocations of the Great Spirit ;
and Bernal Diaz tells us that the subjects of Montezuma were afflicted
with an eruptive disease, more painful though less incurable than lep-
rosy, but that fevers made their first appearance with the Spaniards,
and were long limited to the district of Toltepec (in the valley of
Anahuac) and the Spanish quarter of the city of Tlascala.

In our cotton States, too. Baton Rouge, Vicksburg, and Memphis,
on their high and dry bluffs, and Chattanooga, at an elevation of seven
hundred feet above the level of the Gulf, have suffered more in propor-
tion to their population than any place this side of Vera Cruz; while
the swamps of the Red River and the Arkansas bottom-lands had not
much to complain of besides their chronic " chills," and the ne-plus-
ultra swamp, called Florida, has been entirely spared.

It is also known that the miasmatic virulence of alluvial districts is
aggravated by excessive moisture and diminished by dry seasons, espe-
cially long, dry summers, which convert festering bogs into harmless
steppes, and confine the swamp-belt of large rivers to a narrow strip
along the lower shores. Now, if yellow fever, typhus, and cholera,
were depetiding upon what physicians call telluric causes, i. e., the con-
dition of the soil, in our more or less immediate neighborhood, wet years
would be the most dangerous, whereas experience shows that, on the
contrary, epidemics generally follow upon dry, hot summers, like the
last and those of 1873 and 1868. These facts, which agree with the
experience of the remotest countries and times, only confirm what die-
tetic reasons might indicate a 2^riori, viz., that the so-called zymotic
diseases have subjective rather than objective causes : they are pro-
duced by the unhealthy condition, not of the country so much as of
the inhabitants, and originate in dry cities oftener than in swampy
forests.

During the long centuries of the Juventus 3Itmdi, forests and
swamps were almost synonyms, as they still are in the lower latitudes
of America and Eastern Asia. Animal life swarms and revels in such
regions. Herbivorous and carnivorous animals, and our cousins the
anthropoid apes, thrive in the moist woodlands of the torrid zone, and
the Asiatic Malays, the natives of Soodan and Senegambia, and the
aborigines of our own continent, have inhabited the swampiest dis-
tricts of the tropical bottom-lands for ages with perfect impunity.
They do not employ any of the antidotes by which the stranger hopes
to secure himself against what he calls climatic influences, and that
their immunity is not the inherited privilege of a special race is demon-
strated by the diseases of the Mexican Indians, who have adopted the
diet of their Spanish masters, and of the West African negroes, who
have been carried to the far less swampy islands of the West Indian
Archipelago. Dietetic differences alone can, therefore, furnish a logical

FE VER-FA CTORIES.

H5

explanation, and these differences may be comprised in a few words :
the savages of the tropics avoid calorific food.

Like their next neighbors, the Hindoos, the natives of Siam and
the Sunda-Islanders are mostly frugivorous. Rice, fruits, nuts, and
milk, constitute their principal diet, and only famine can reduce them
to the use of animal food ; they eschew the sudorific drinks of their
European masters, and their only stimulant is a cooling alkaloid, the
coagulated juice of the betel-nut palm, which they chew with an ad-
mixture of shell-lime. The mountaineers of Abyssinia and the inhabi-
tants of the chilly South African highlands are carnivorous ; but the
natives of Guinea and Soodan, like the Arabs of the Desert, keep cat-
tle and sheep for the sake of their milk, and use their flesh only in
times of scarcity or in war. Our Spanish neighbors divide the copper-
colored race into two well-defined classes, the Indios 3Iansos and the
Indios Bravos, " the tame and ferocious Indians : " the first the frugal,
Hindoo-like inhabitants of the coast-forests from Yucatan to Peru; the
second the cruel hunters of men and beasts, who roam the wilds of the
great West and the table-lands of Northern Mexico and Patagonia.
The Indios 3fansos of Yucatan, for instance, live on bananas, corn-
cakes, brown beans fried with a little butter or palm-oil, and the abun-
dant berries and nuts of their native forests, and enjoy an exceptional
longevity and freedom from all sicknesses whatever, in all of which re-
spects they resemble the ancient Peruvians, who had no physicians, as
Devega remarks, because their only sickness was an incurable one —
old age.

Instinct teaches these savages what our science seems to have for-
gotten, viz., that we must not aggravate the effects of atmospheric
heat by calorific artifices. Almost all the domestic habits which dis-
tinguish the weaving and house-building Caucasian from the naked
savage were originally precautions against the inclemency of a frigid
latitude ; and it is perhaps the greatest mistake of modern civilization
that these precautions have become permanent institutions, instead of
being confined to the winter season and occasional cold nights in April
and October. We counteract the effects of a low temperature by arti-
ficial supplements to our native skin, by weather-proof buildings and
heat-producing food, and with such success that De Quincey could de-
fine comfort as a supper eaten at leisure in a chimney-corner during
the fiercest storm of a November night ; but, when the dog-star rules
the season, these factitious comforts turn to a very positive misery,
and the same contrivances that shelter us against the fury of the snow-
storm exclude the breezes that would temper the glow of the summer
sun.

All the conventional, anti-natural customs of our social life, and all
the prejudices of our prudish morality, seem to conspire to make the
sunny half of the year as uncomfortable as possible. In a temperature
that makes us envy the external lungs of the zoophytes, and seethes

VOL. XIV. — 10

146 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

our veins till we would gladly part with our hereditary cuticle, cus-
tom obliges us to invest ourselves in double and threefold garments-
air-tight if not water-proof, some of them— which intensify the effects
of the atmospheric heat by the retained animal warmth of our own
bodies, and confine, not perspiration, but the benefits of perspiration,
to the small uncovered portion of our skin.

Our cities are atmospheric bake-ovens. They exclude the horizontal
air-currents that sweep freely through the shady arcades of the forest,
but they admit sunlight and retain their self-created heat, their dust,
and their sudorific vapors. We have inherited, the antique passion for
whitewashed houses and stone fences that reflect the sun's rays with a
distressing glare, while we have abolished the intramural gardens and
free public baths that alleviated the summer sufferings of the ancient
Mediterranean cities ; but our hyperborean diet is perhaps a still more

prolific source of evil.

The experience of all tropical and sub-tropical nations has taught
them to avoid animal food and fat, and to counteract the influence of a
sultry climate by cooling, non-stimulating drinks and fruit, for a three
or four years' neglect of these precautions is sure to undermine the
soundest constitution, as demonstrated by the fate of countless em-
ployes of the East Indian administration, who left Great Britam as
models of Saxon or Celtic vis virilis, and returned as tremulous in-
valids after a few hundred beefsteak-and-ale dinners in the atmos-
phere of the Lower Ganges Valley. The advent of our autumnal night
frosts and bracing north winds saves most of us from the ultimate con-
sequences of this East Indian malady, but not one man in a thousand
escapes the pro tempore penalties of living through the tropical quar-
ter of the solar year as if he were fighting the battle of life against
an arctic snow-storm. Cold air is a tonic and antiseptic, and under its
influence many substances which Nature never intended for our food
become healthy or at least digestible, for a Kamtchatka fisherman
can swallow as his daily ration a dose of blubber and brandy that
would kill seven Hindoos. The pork-steaks and bitters that feed the
fire of life in December smother it in August like so much incombus-
tible rubbish, or evolve fumes that obscure its brightness, till we yearn
for the equinoctial gale like a becalmed mariner in a fog, or take refuge
from hypochondria in the summerless heights of a mountain-region ;
and, if starvation were not so often superadded to the cold and the
darkness of the season of short days and long nights, it would be very
doubtful if the bitterest winter sorrows of the children of Nature could
compare with the self-inflicted summer martyrdom of a European or
North American dyspeptic. For languor, dull headaches, nausea, and
troubled dreams, though singly and momentarily no very serious evils,
can aggregate in a sum of misery that has induced all northern nations
to make a high temperature the chief characteristic of the pit of tor-
ment.

FEVER-FACTORIES. 147

The antidotal resources of Nature counteract the evil for a while •
diarrhoea, retching, and intermittent fevers, discover her efforts to secrete
an indigestible substance ; the suicidal diet is modified, in quantity at
least, by nausea and loss of appetite, and the periodical north winds
that reduce the summer temperature of our Southern States by twenty
or thirty degrees may help to postpone the crisis for weeks and
months. But if that palliative fails, and the devotee of established
customs pursues his course with intrepid fanaticism, the barriers of life
yield at last, and Nature ends an evil which she cannot cure. The
direct cause of yellow fever is the inability of the vital power to with-
stand the double influence of moist heat from within and without.

In all zymotic diseases the blood passes through the incipient stao-es
of fermentation, incited, perliaps, by floating animal or vegetable germs
but favored by and depending upon the enteric condition of each indi-
vidual. The morbid humors begin to ferment,' the progress of decom-
position separates the red blood-globules from the serum ; the first
accumulate in the digestive apparatus and are discharged in that vomit
of cruor which marks the advanced stages of yellow fever and cholera,
while the absence of the coloring particles from the circulating blood
tinges the skin with a yellowish hue. The convulsion of the bowels
reacts on the brain, produces violent headaches, coma, perhaps, or
delirium, and paroxysms of nausea, and ends by utter exhaustion and
death. It is notorious that the bodies of the victims of yellow fever
need immediate interment on account of the swiftness with which pu-
trefaction begins, or rather ends, its work.

As its name implies, a fever epidemic is a contagious disease, and it
cannot be denied that by prompt removal from the infected atmosphere
innumerable candidates of the winding-sheet might be saved ; but it is
quite as certain that even persons of a frail constitution, but innocent
of dietetic sins, may breathe with impunity the air in which thousands
of their stricken fellow-citizens have recently expired. Everywhere the
mortality lists show a great preponderance of males over females, of
men of sedentary pursuits over open-air laborers, and of epicures over
ascetics. Catholic seminarists, Sisters of Charity, vegetarians, and
tramps, have enjoyed a remarkable immunity, owing to their voluntary
or involuntary habits of abstinence. Worried physicians, spectral old
spinsters, and smoke-dried presbyters, have generally survived, while
corpulent beer-brewers, lusty landlords, and chubby butcher-boys, went
down like grass under a sweeping scythe ; and the local papers of New
Orleans and Vicksburg have repeatedly called attention to the fact
that the business-men who declined to close either their earthly career
or their stores were mostly Italians and Jews.

The lessons of the last epidemic find numerous precedents in the

' That the blood-changes in zymotic diseases are catalytic is sufficiently proved by the
prophylactic power of cold and of the same antiseptics that (vould arrest an inchoate
process of fermentation.

148 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

history of former times. The Hack -death that ravaged Asia and
Southern Europe in the fourteenth century spared the Mohammedan
countries— Persia, Turkistan, Morocco, and Southern Spain— whose in-
habitants generally abstained from pork and intoxicating drinks. In
the Byzantine Empire, Russia, Germany, France, Northern Spain (in-
habited by the Christian Visigoths), and Italy, 4,000,000 died be-
tween 1373 and 1375, but the monasteries of the stricter orders and the
frugal peasants of Calabria and Sicily enjoyed their usual health (which
they of course, ascribed to the favor of their tutelar saints) ; but among
the cities which suffered most were Barcelona, Lyons, Florence, and
Moscow, the first three situated on rocky mountain-slopes, with no lack
of drainage and pure water, while the steppes of the Upper Volga are
o-enerally dry and salubrious.

The pestilence of 1720 swept away 52,000, or more than two-thirds
of the 75 000 inhabitants of Marseilles, in less than five weeks ; but of
the 6,000 abstemious Spaniards that inhabited the " Suburb of the
Catalans "only 200 died, or less than four per cent. The most de-
structive epidemic recorded in authentic history was the four years
plao-ue that commenced in A. d. 542 and raged through the dominions
of Chosroes the Great, the Byzantine Empire, Northern Africa, and
Southwestern Europe. It commenced in Egypt, spread to the east
over Syria, Persia, and the Indies, and penetrated to the west along
the coast of Africa and over the Continent of Europe. Asia Minor,
with its plethoric cities, Constantinople, Northern Italy, and France
suffered fearfully; entire provinces were abandoned, cities died out and
remained vacant for many years, and during three months 5 000 and at
last 10 000 persons died at Constantinople each day! (Gibbon s His-
tory " vol. iii., chap, xliii.) ; and the total number of victims m the three
continents is variously estimated from 75,000,000 to 120,000,000 (Pro-
copius, « Anecdot.," cap. xviii. ; Cousin's " Hist.," tome u., p. 178). But
in Sicily, Morocco, and Albania, the disease was confined to a few sea-
port towns, and the Caucasus and Arabia escaped entirely.

This dreadful plague made its first appearance in Alexandria, Egypt,
then a luxurious city of 800,000 inhabitants, and Paulus Diaconus a
contemporary historian, speaks of the "reckless gluttony by which the
inhabitants of the great capital incurred yearly fevers and dangerous
indigestions ; and at last brought this terrible judgment upon them-
selves and their innocent neighbors " (lib. ii., cap. iv.). Alexandria
lost half a million of her inhabitants in 542, and 80,000 in the following
year, and for miles around the city the fields were covered with unburied
corpses ; but the monks of the Nitrian Desert (3,000 of them had de-
voted themselves to the task of collecting and burying the dead) lost
only fifty of their fraternity, who with few exceptions confessed that
they had secretly violated the ascetic rules of their order.

If the thirteen centuries since that year of judgment had been em-
ployed in the study of physiology and hygiene rather than m Trinita-

FE VER-FA CTORIES.

149

rian and Monophysite disputes and transubstantiation controversies, we
might know by this time that the repetition of the excesses of the
Egyptian capital in an Egyptian chmate will always provoke an Egyp-
tian plague, and that the observance of some simple dietetic rules
would insure our health against the most malignant climatic influences.
Southern cities like New Orleans, Memphis, and Galveston, that con-
sume from 500 to 5,000 barrels of pork and four times as many kegs of
lager-beer and gallons of wliiskey each summer day, while they confine
forty or fifty per cent, of their population in stifling tenement-houses,
schoolrooms, and workshops, and, instead of providing free public
baths, legislate against river-bathing within their corporate limits —
such cities, whether situated in the swamps, like New Orleans, or
on dry hills, like Memphis, are fever-factories, and produce epidemic
diseases by the use of calorific food in a sweltering climate, as sys-
tematically as the New Orleans ice-factory evolves cubes of congealed
water by the evaporation of ether in and around its copper water-
tanks.

To our dietetic abuses and the deficient ventilation of our buildings
and bodies^ we can ascribe the fact that the average mortality of the
half-year from June to November exceeds that of the remaining six
months by twenty per cent, on the table-lands and by more than thirty
per cent, along the sea-coasts of the two Caucasian continents ; but
this increase of the death-rate is only a small part of the sum total of
our self-caused summer martyrdom. If we could weigh the nameless
discomforts, the weariness, the physical and moral nausea, and the un-
satisfied hunger after the life-air and freedom of the wilderness, en-
dured by millions of factory-children, shopkeepers, and counting-house
drudges, if we could weigh all their misery against the hardships of
the savages and half-savage nomads, we might agree with the Bentham-
ites, that, measured by the criterion of the greatest happiness of the
greatest number, modern civilization is a very indifferent success.
" There is something pathetic in every suicide," says Montesquieu,
" for the fact that life had become insupportable to a human being
could not be more conclusively proved." But the same fact is proved
by every premature death, for the destructive agencies of Nature never
assert themselves till the evils of life outweigh its blessings. When
Vishnu resigns his power to Shiva we may be sure that annihilation is
the more merciful alternative.

A privileged small minority, some happy few among the upper ten
per cent, of our city population, can celebrate the holidays of their
luxurious year, when rising thermometers, dust-clouds, kitchen-fumes,
woolen garments, and peppered ragouts, kindle the fires of Moloch in
our veins ; but what shall we do to be saved if poverty or duty prevent
us to save ourselves by flight to the White Mountains ? A century
may pass before chemists invent the art of cooling our houses by an
artificial process as cheaply and effectually as we warm them by fire,

150 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

but in the mean time we might restrict our calorific efforts to the eight

coolest months of the year.

In the first place we might curtail the number of our warm meals,
or cook them on the cooperative plan in a separate buildmg, where ten
or twelve families could use a common stove and a jomt stock of fuel
and certain groceries, and thus save our sitting-rooms and studies from
the effects which even a basement-kitchen fire exerts on the domestic
atmosphere. Heat-producing food, too, might very well be dispensed
with The vegetarian school has demonstrated beyond the possibility
of a* doubt that farinaceous dishes, sweet milk, and fruit are sufficient
to maintain a hard-working man in perfect health, and such a diet might
certainly be substituted for our greasy steaks and ragouts auring the
hottest weeks of the sultry season. Whether or not such mild stimu-
lants as tea and coffee are preferable to pure water, it is certain that
they are sudorific drinks, and that even their moderate use mcreases
the temperature of our blood by several degrees during their passage
through the digestive apparatus. Smoking-hot dishes and such spices
as pepper, mustard, onions, and ginger, are liable to the same objection
and we should not forget that sultry weather retards the digestion of
all fatty substances by several hours. . ^ ^

Cooling and non-stimulating drinks of a temperature of not less
than 5° above the freezing-point might, on the contrary, be freely
used in any enjoyable quantity, for the prevailing "^[lons in regard to
the danger of "cold drinks in the heat" prove nothing but the mar-
velous tenacity of popular superstitions. Like the prejudice against
raw fruit, night air, and "draught" (i. e., the passage o a current of
pure air through the vitiated air of a human dwelling), tins notion has
furnished a pretext for the strangest sanitary aberrations, and has been
defended with the same ingenious sophistry that supplies the adver-
tisers of patent nostrums with their specious arguments To prevent
cold water from « chilling our stomachs," we are advised to mix it with
a few drops of brandy, to wash our wrists and let our faces cool off or
to chew a preliminary bread-crust; and parents solemnly warn their
children not to endanger their health by gratifying an imprudent ap-

^''But the craving of our heated system for a refrigerating beverage

is a natural instinct which we share with all warm-blooded ammals and

which manifests itself in children and savages as --"^^^^-.^f;f ,"^^

civilized men. We see horses, hounds, and stags, walk bodily into a

cool river after a hot chase, or quench their thirst -^-f\''^''']^^''^^

perfect impunity, and the idea that Nature shoud thus tenipt us to

anything positively injurious implies a deplorable ignorance of the

lano-uage of our physical conscience. Injurious things, as poisons, ex-

ces:iveleat,or exce'ssive cold, are disagreeable; -^^^ -^^^-;:. ^^^s'

able is beneficial, unless instinct has been supplanted by artificial habits.

It might, for instance, be said that the appetite of a drunkard tempts

FEVER-FACTORIES. 151

him to indulge in a body and soul destroying poison, but that appetite
has been artificially and painfully acquired, and in spite of the earnest
protests of Nature, which teach a child by the unmistakable testimony
of its senses that alcohol and all fermented drinks are disgusting, and
consequently injurious. But cold water, cold sweet milk, lemonade,
and cider fresh from the press, are agreeable to every undepraved
palate, and of these and similar beverages we might drink our fill on
the hottest day, without any fear of having to repent the gratification
of a natural appetite. Persons, like Baron Brisse, who frankly admit
that their only object in life is to diminish its tedium, act at least con-
sistently if they adopt the most effectual means to shorten its duration,
but housekeepers who, from motives of economy, grudge their children
a handful of apples or an excursion to a shady picnic-ground, should
not boast of their annual savings before they have deducted the doc-
tor's bill.

To take plenty of rest after meals is another health rule which
we might adopt on the authority of our instinct-guided fellow-creatures,
if not of our sensible ancestors, who surpassed us in physical vigor and
hygienic insight as much as we exceed them in mechanical or astro-
nomical knowledge. In obedience to an urgent instinct, wild animals
retire to their hiding-places after a hearty feed, and digest in peace ;
and the ancient Greeks, as well as the Romans cf the ante-Caesarean
era, contented themselves with one daily meal, which they ate leisurely
in the cool of the afternoon after completing their day's work. The
rest of the evening they devoted to music, conversation, dances, and
light gymnastics, and had thus all night, besides the larger part of the
following day, for digestion, could assimilate their food, and probably
derived more enjoyment from that one meal than we do from our hur-
ried dinners, late suppers, luncheons, and " Christian breakfasts" — true
dejeuners dinatoires, that dull our brains and limbs during the first
three or four post-prandial business-hours.

For a quarter of a year, at least, we might get along with two daily
meals, one at noon, after finishing the larger and harder half of our
day's work, on au " empty stomach " (which custom would soon make
a resigned and very comfortable stomach), then a siesta of three or
four hours ; work till sunset, and then a bath, followed by a leisurely
symposium and such domestic amusements as our tastes and oppor-
tunities might suggest ; and since it is probably true that sleep should
not follow too close upon a large meal, we might prolong our amuse-
ments or dolce far nientes through the first third of the night, on
Saturdays even till after midnight, without fear of thereby violating
any law of Nature. The habits of our next relations among the children
of the wilderness, the mammals, and vertebrate reptiles, become semi-
nocturnal during the warm season : deer, buffaloes, antelopes, and kan-
garoos, graze in moonshine ; bears and foxes leave their dens after dark
and rest through the warmer part of the day; alligators wander about

152 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

on terra firma in warm nights, and frogs continue their serenades till
the morning wind chills them into silence and somnolence. The drowsy
heat of the afternoon invites to slumber as the cool hours before the
noon of night invite to music, reverie, or sentimental conversation, and
our midsummer-night dreams would be no worse for a moonlight ram-
ble on the mountains or in the garden-suburbs of a large city.

But " the best of all things is water, after all," was Pindar's motto,
and should be our motto in summer-time, in regard to pure cold water,
externally applied. In the crowded cities of the Atlantic seaboard and
the Lower Mississippi Valley, whose summer temperature equals that
of southernmost Europe, the lot of the hard-working classes would be
exceedingly improved by the institution of free public baths. The
citizens of the Roman Empire regarded their thermce and the4r balnea
pxihlica as the chief criterion of a civilized town ; and it is strangely
characteristic of the metaphj'sical and anti-natural tendency of our
ethical system that not one of our wealthy philanthropists ever thought
of promoting the welfare of his native city by an establishment which
an enlightened community should value as a common necessity rather
than as a luxurious privilege.

The baths of Caracalla, which furnished the means of physical puri-
fication to tens of thousands, were certainly as useful — practically and
morally — as the Serapion or the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus ; and one
per cent, of the wealth that has been expended on churches, Sunday-
schools, foreign missions, and other attempts to secure the post-mortem
felicity of the masses, would suffice to make their terrestrial existence
far more endurable.

-♦«♦-

EDUCATIOI^ AS A SCIENCE.

By ALEXANDER BAIN, LL. D.,

PEOFESSOR IN THE tlNIVERSITT OF ABERDEEN.

VII.— THE EMOTIONS IN EDUCATION {concluded).

THE considerations stated in the previous article {see November
Monthly) lead up to the final subject — Punishment ; in adminis-
tering which the practice of education, as well as of other kinds of
government, has greatly improved. The general principles of punish-
ment have been already renounced. We have to consider their appli-
cation to the school. But first a few words on the employment of
reward.

Emulatiox — Frizes— Place-taking. — All these names point to
the same fact and the same motive — the desire of surpassing others,
of gaining distinction ; a motive that has already been weighed. It
is the most powerful known stimulant to intellectual application ; and,

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 153

where it is in full operation, nothing else is needed. Its defects are
(1) it is an anti-social principle, (2) it is apt to be too energetic, (3) it
is limited to a small number, (4) it makes a merit of superior natural

gifts.

It is a fact that the human intellect has at all times been spurred to
its highest exertions by rivalry, contest, and the ambition of being
first. The question is, whether a more moderate pitch of excellence,
such as befits average faculties, could not be attained without that
stimulant. If so, there would be a clear moral gain. Be tliis as it
may, there is no need to bring it forward prematurely, or to press its
application at the beginning. In the infant stage, where the endeavor
is to draw out the amicable sentiments, it is better kept back. For
tasks that are easy and interesting, it is unnecessary. The pupils that
possess unusual aptitude should be incited to modesty rather than to
assumption.

The greater prizes and distinctions affect only a very small number.
Place-capturing, as Bentham phrases it, afl"ects all more or less, al-
though in the lower end of a class position is of small consequence.
Too often the attainments near the bottom are nil. A few contesting
eagerly for being first, and the mass phlegmatic, is not a healthy class.

Prizes may be valuable in themselves, and also a token of superior-
ity. Small gifts by parents are useful incitements to lessons; the
school contains prizes for distinction that only a small number can
reach. The schoolmaster's means of reward is chiefly confined to ap-
probation, or praise, a great and flexible instrument, yet needing deli-
cate manipulation. Some kinds of merit are so palpable as to be de-
scribed by numerical marks. Next, in point of distinctness, is the fact
that a thing is right or wrong, in part or in whole ; it is sufficient ap-
probation to pronounce that a question is correctly answered, a passage
properly explained. This is the praise that envy cannot assail. Most
unsafe are phrases of commendation ; much pains is needed to make
them both discriminating and just. They need to have a palpable basis
in facts. Distinguished merit should not always be attended with
piBans ; silent recognition is the rule, the exceptions must be such as
to extort admiration from the most jealous. The controlling circum-
• stance is the presence of the collective body ; the teacher is not speak-
ing for himself alone, but directing the sentiments of a multitude, with
which he should never be at variance ; his strictly private judgments
should be privately conveyed. Bentham's "scholar-jury principle,"
although not formally recognized in modern methods, is always tacitly
at work. The opinion of the school, when at its utmost efficiency, is
the united judgment of the head and the members, the master and the
mass. Any other state of things is war : although this, too, may be
unavoidable.

Punishment. — The first and readiest, and ever the best, form of
punishment, is censure, reprobation, dispraise, to which are applicable

154 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

all the maxims above laid down for praise. Definite descriptions of
definite failures, without note or comment, are a power to punish.
When there are aggravations, such as downright carelessness, a dam-
aging commentary may be added ; but, in using terms of reprobation,
still more strict regard has to be paid to discrimination and justice.
The degrees of badness are sometimes numerical, as by the quantity of
lesson missed, and the repetition of inattention ; this very definiteness
literally stated is more cutting than epithets.

Strong terms of reproof should be sparing, in order to be more ef-
fective. Still more sparing ought to be tones of anger. Loss of tem-
per, however excusable, is really a victory to wrong-doers ; although
for the moment it may strike terror. Unless a man is of fiendish nature
throughout, he cannot maintain a consistent course, if he gives way
to temper. Indignation under control is a mighty weapon. Yet it is
mere impotence to utter threats when the power of execution is known
to be wanting. There is nothing worse for authority than to over-
vaunt itself ; this is the fatal step to the ridiculous.

Whoever occupies a position of authority ought to be familiar with
the general principles and conditions of punishment, as they may be
found set forth in the penal code of Bentham. The broad, exhaustive
view there given will cooperate beneficially with each one's actual
experience. I make no apology for presenting a short summary of his
principles.

After precisely defining the proper ends of punishment, Bentham
marks the cases unmeet for punishment: 1. Where it is groundless:
that is, where there never has been any real mischief (the other party
consenting to what has been done), or where the mischief is over-
weighed by a benefit of greater value. 2. Where it is i7iefficacious :
including cases where the penal provision has not come before the of-
fender's notice, where he is unaware of the consequences of his act, or
where he is not a free agent. 3. Cases where it is unprofitable : that
is, when the evil of the punishment exceeds the evil of the offense.
(The evils of punishment, which have to be summed up and set against
the good, are (1) coercion or restraint, (2) the uneasiness of apprehen-
sion, (3) the actual suffering, (4) the suffering caused to all those that
are in sympathy with the person punished.) 4. Cases where punish-
ment is needless: as when the end can be attained in some cheaper
way, as by instruction and persuasion. In this class Bentham specially
includes the offenses that consist in disseminating pernicious principles
in politics, morality, or religion. These should be met by instruction
and argument, and not by the penalties of the law.

Under what he calls the expense or frugality of punishment, Ben-
tham urges the necessity of presenting to the mind an adequate notion
of what a punishment really is. Hence the advantage of punishments
that are easily learned and remembered, and that appear greater and not
less than they really are.

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 155

Next as to the main point, the measure of punishment : 1. It should
be such as clearly to outweigh the profit of the offense : including not
simply the immediate profit, but every advantage, real or apparent,
that has weighed as an inducement to commit it. 2. The greater the
mischief of the offense, the greater is the expense that it is worth while
to be at, in the way of punishment. 3. When two offenses come into
competition, the punishment for the greater should be such as to make
the less preferred ; thus robbery with violence to the person is always
punished more severely than simple robbery. 4. The punishment to
be so adjusted that, for every part of the resulting mischief, a motive
may be provided to restrain from causing it. 5. The punishment should
not be greater than is needed for these ends. 6. There should be taken
into account the circumstances affecting the sensibility of the offenders,
so that the same punishment may not operate unequally ; as age, sex,
wealth, position. 7. The punishment needs to be increased in magni-
tude as it falls short of certainty. 8. It must be further increased in
magnitude as it falls short in point of proximity. Penalties that are
uncertain and those that are remote correspondingly fail to influence
the mind. 9. When the act indicates a habit, the punishment must be
increased so as to outweigh the profit of the other offenses that the
offender may commit with impvxnity : this is severe, but necessary, as
in putting down the coiners of base money. 10. When a punishment
well fitted in its quality cannot exist in less than a certain quantity, it
may be of use to employ it, although a little beyond the measure of
the offense : such are the punishments of exile, expulsion from a soci-
ety, dismissal from office. 11. This may be the case more particularly
when the punishment is a moral lesson. 12. In adjusting the quantum,
account is to be taken of the circumstances that render all punishment
unprofitable. 13. If, in carrying out these provisions, an^^^thing occurs
tending to do more harm than the good arising from the punishment,
that thing should be omitted.

In regard to the selection of punishments, Bentham lays down a
number of tests or conditions whereby they are fitted to comply with
the foregoing requirements : 1. The quality of variability: a punish-
ment should have degrees of intensity and duration ; this applies to
fines, corporal punishment, and imprisonment, also to censure or ill-
name. 2. Equability, or equal application under all circumstances :
this is not easy to secure ; a fixed fine is an unequable punishment. 3.
Cornmensur ability : that is, punishments should be so adapted to of-
fenses that the offender may clearly conceive the inequality of the suf-
fering attached to crimes of different degrees of heinousness ; this prop-
erty can be grafted on the variable punishments, as imprisonment. 4,
Characteristicalness : this is where something can be found in the
punishment whose idea exactly fits the crime. Bentham dilates upon
this topic, in order to discriminate it from the old crude method of an
eye for an eye ; cases in point occur abundantly both in the family and

156 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in the school. 5. Exemplarity : this is connected with the impressive-
ness of a punishment ; all the solemnities accompanying the execution
increase this effect. Bentham, however, did not sufficiently consider
the evils attending too great publicity, which have led to withdrawing
punishments from the gaze of the multitude ; it being simply intimated
that they have been carried out. 6. Frugality : or making punish-
ments less costly to the state, as when prisoners are employed produc-
tively. 7. Subserviency to reformation : by weakening the seductive
and strengthening the preserving motives ; as in giving habits of labor
to the idle. 8. Efficacy in disablement : as in deposition from office.
9. Subserviency to compensation : as by pecuniary inflictions. 10.
Popularity. Bentham lays much stress upon the popularity and un-
popularity of punishments, whereby the public sympathy may work for
or against the law ; when a punishment is unpopular, juries are reluc-
tant to convict, and public agitation gets up for remission of sentence.
11. Simplicity of description : under this head Bentham comments
upon the obscure and unintelligible descriptions of the old law, as
capital felony^ proemunire. 12. Hemissibility, in case of mistake.

Punishments must go deeper than words ; indeed, the efficacy of
blame depends on something else to follow. Bearing in mind what are
the evil tendencies to be encountered in school discipline — want of ap-
plication being the most constant — we may review the different kinds
of penalties that have been placed at the disposal of the schoolmaster.
The occasional aggravation of disorder and rebelliousness has also to be
encountered, but with an eye to the main requisite.

Simple forms of disgrace have been invented, in the shape of shame-
ful positions and humiliating isolation. As appealing to the sense of
shame, these are powerful with many, but not with all : their power
varies with the view taken of them by the collective body, as well as
with individual sensitiveness. They answer for smaller offenses, but
not for the greatest ; they may do to begin with, but they rapidly lose
power by repetition. It is a rule in punishment to try slight penalties
at first ; with the better natures the mere idea of punishment is enough ;
severity is entirely unnecessary. It is a coarse and blundering system
that knows of nothing but the severe and degrading sorts.

Detention from play, or keeping-in after hours, is very galling to the
young ; and it ought to suffice for even serious offenses ; especially for
riotous and unruly tendencies, for which it has all the merits of " char-
acteristicalness." The excess of activity and aggressiveness is met by
withholding the ordinary legitimate outlets.

Tasks or impositions are the usual punishment of neglect of lessons,
and are also employed for rebelliousness ; the pain lies in the intellect-
ual ennui ^ which is severe to those that have no liking for books in
any shape. They also possess the irksomeness of confinement and
fatigue-drill. They may be superadded to shame, and the combination
is a formidable penalty.

EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE. 157

With all these various resources ingeniously plied — emulation,
praise, censure, forms of disgrace, confinement, impositions — the neces-
sity for corporal punishments should be nearly done away with. In
any well-regulated school, where all the motives are carefully graded,
through a long series of increasing privations and penalties, there
should be no cases but what are sufficiently met. The presence of
pupils that are not amenable to such means is a discord and anomaly ;
and the direct remedy would consist in removing them to some place
where the lower natures are grouped together. Inequality of moral
tone is as much to be deprecated in a class as inequality of intellectual
advancement. There should be reformatories, or special institutions,
for those that cannot be governed like the majority.

Where corporal punishment is kept up, it should be at the far end
of the list of penalties ; its slightest application should be accounted
the worst disgrace, and should be accompanied with stigmatizing forms.
It should be regarded as a deep injury to the person that inflicts it, and
to those that have to witness it — as the height of shame and infamy.
It ought not to be repeated with the same pupil ; if two or three appli-
cations are not enough, removal is the proper course.

The misfortune is, that in the national schools the worst and most
neglected natures have to be introduced ; yet they should not brutalize
a whole school. Even when children are habituated to blows at home,
it does not follow that these are necessary at school ; parents are often
unskillful, as well as hampered in all their circumstances, and emergen-
cies are pressing ; the treatment at school may easily rise above the
conduct of the family. In many instances the school will be a welcome
haven to the children of troubled homes, and lead to the generous re-
sponse of good behavior.

In point of fact, however, the children of wretchedness are not al-
ways those that give trouble, nor is it the schools where these are found
that are most given to corporal punishments. The schoolmaster's most
wayward subjects come often from good families ; and they are found
in schools of the highest grade. There should be no difficulty in send-
ing away from superior schools all such as could not be disciplined with-
out the degradation of flogging.*

' Testimonials are adduced from very distinguished men, to the effect that without
flogging they would have done nothing. Melanchthon, Johnson, Goldsmith, are all quoted
for a sentiment of this kind. We must, however, interpret the fact on a wider basis.
There was no intermediate course in those days between spoiling and corporal punish-
ment : he that spared the rod hated the child. Many ways can now be found of spurring
young and capable minds to application ; and corporal punishment would take an inferior
position in the mere point of efiBciency.

It is not to be held that corporal punishment, to such extent as is permissible, is the
severest form of punishment that may be administered in connection with the school.
For mere pain, a whipping would often be chosen in preference to the intolerable irksome-
ness of confinement during play or after hours, and of impositions in the way of drill-
tasks ; while the language of censure may be so cutting as to be far worse than blows.

158 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The Discipline of Consequences. — The idea of Rousseau that
children, instead of being punished, should be left to the natural con-
sequences of their disobedience, has much plausibility, and is taken
up at the present day by educationists. Mr. Spencer has dwelt upon it
with great emphasis.

One obvious limitation to the principle is, that the results may be
too serious to be used for discipUne : children have to be protected
from the consequences of many of their acts.

What is intended is, to free parents and others from the odium of
being the authors of pain, and to throw this upon impersonal agencies,
toward whom the child can entertain no resentment. But, before count-
ing on that result, two things are to be weighed. For one, the child
may soon be able to see through the device, and to be aware that after
all the pain is brought about by virtue of a well-laid scheme for the
purpose : as when the unpunctual child is left behind. The other re-
mark is that, the personifying or anthropomorphic tendency being at its
greatest in early years, every natural evil is laid to the door of a person
known or unknown. The habit of looking at the laws of Nature, in
their crushing application, as cold, passionless, purposeless, is a very
late and difficult acquirement, one of the triumphs of science or philos-
ophy : we begin by resenting everything that does us harm, and are
but too ready to look round for an actual person to bear the brunt of
our wrath.

A further difficulty is the want of foresight and foreknowledge in
children : they are unable to realize consequences when the evil impulse
is upon them. This, of course, decreases by time ; and, according as
the sense of consequences is strengthened, these become more adequate
as a check to misconduct. It is then indifferent whether they are nat-
ural or ordained. .• e
Among the natural consequences that are relied on as correctives ot

misbehavior in the family are such as these : going with shabby clothes,
from having spoiled a new suit; getting no new toys to replace those
that are destroyed. The case of one child having to make reparation
to another for things destroyed is more an example of Bentham's " char-
acteristical " punishment.

In school, the discipline of consequences comes in under the ar-
rangements of the school for assigning each one's merit on an imper-
sonal plan, the temper or disposition of the master being nowhere ap-
parent. The regulations being fixed and understood, non-compliance
punishes itself. — Author's advance-sheets.

What is maintained is that these other punishments are not so liable to abuse, nor so
brutalizing to all concerned, as bodily inflictions.

EXPLOSIONS FROM COMBUSTIBLE DUST. 159
EXPLOSIONS FKOM COMBUSTIBLE DUST.'

By Professor L. W. PECK.

I WISH to demonstrate to you this evening, by a few simple experi-
ments, the fact that all combustible material when finely divided
forming a dust or powder, will, under proper conditions, burn with
explosive rapidit3\

If a large log of wood were ignited it might burn a week before
being entirely consumed ; split it up into cord-wood, and pile it up
loosely, and it would burn in a couple of hours ; again, split it into
kindling-wood, pile loosely as before, and perhaps it would burn in
less than an hour ; cut it up into shavings and allow a strong wind to
throw them into the air, or in any way keep the chips comparatively
well separated from each other, and it might be entirely consumed in
two or three minutes ; or, finally, grind it up into a fine dust or powder,
blow it in such a manner that every particle is surrounded by air, and
it would burn in less than a second. •

Perhaps you have noticed that shavings and fine kindlings will
sometimes ignite so quickly in a stove that the covers will be slightly
raised, the door forced open, or perhaps small flames will shoot out
through the front damper. You have, in such a case, an explosion on
a very small scale similar to that of the Washburn, Diamond, and Hum-
boldt Mills of this city, on the night of May 2d — upon which occasion
the rapid burning of hundreds of tons of flour, bran, etc., completely
demolished the solid-masonry walls, six feet thick, of the mills, and
threw sheets of iron from the roof of the Washburn so hiarh into the
air that they were carried two miles by the wind before striking the
ground.

Let us see now why such explosions occur. Wood has in it a large
amount of carbon, the material of which charcoal is composed, and the
air is about one-fifth oxygen. Now, at the ordinary temperature, the
carbon of the wood and the oxygen of the air do not combine ; but,
when they are heated, as hj friction, concentration of the sun's rays,
chemical action as from a match, or in any other way, they combine
to form carbonic-acid gas. This chemical action produces a large addi-
tional amount of heat which keeps up the action as long as there is
any carbon and oxygen left to unite, and also makes the temperature
of the gas which is formed very high.

As the space occupied by the carbonic-acid gas and that occupied
by the oxygen which entered into the combination is the same at the
same temperature, there would be no bursting if, after combination, the

' Lecture delivered June 1, 1878, at Association Hall, Minneapolis, Minnesota, at the
request of the millers of the city.

i6o

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

temperature were the same as before ; but it is a fact, which you have
all observed, that fuel in burning produces heat ; it is also a fact that
heat expands a gas, and it is this great amount of heat, taken up by
the carbonic acid formed, that produces the immense pressure in all
directions.

Let us return to our log of wood. There is exactly the same amount
of heat and carbonic acid produced when complete combustion takes
place in each of the cases of burning, the only difference being as to
time. In the first case, the explosion or pushing aside of the surround-
ing air occupies a week, in the last only a second.

Snow-flakes fall gently upon your shoulders, and you are reqviired
to perform an insensible amount of work to resist the crushing effect
of each flake ; but, suppose that all the snow that has fallen upon your
head and shoulders for the last ten years was welded together in one
solid mass of ice, weighing perhaps one hundred pounds, and that it
should descend with the velocity of a snow-flake upon you, an immense
effort would be required to prevent its crushing you, even if you were
able to withstand the shock at all. The work of many days would be
concentrated into an instant.

So it is with burning wood : four or five cords of wood, and a large

stove, will give you a roaring fire
all winter ; the work done is mani-
fested by the heat obtained, by the
rushing of hot gases up the chim-
ne\', and of air from outside into the
room through every crack. But, if
the wood were ground into a pow-
der and scattered through all the
house, and burned instantly, the
cracks, doors, window^s, and flues,
would not be sufficient to give vent
to the hot gas, and the roof and
sides of the house would be blown
to pieces.

What is true of wood is also
true of grains ; also of vegetables,
with their products when they con-
tain carbon, with this exception :
grain, either whole or ground, will
not burn readily when in bulk. A
fire could be buUt upon a binful of
flour, and kept burning for half a day wdthout igniting the flour ; it
would char upon the surface, but it lies in such a compact mass that
the air does not get access to it readily, hence it does not burn.

I wish to show you now how combustible dust will burn when blown
into the air by means of a pair of ordinary hand-bellows.

Fig. 1.

EXPLOSIONS FROM COMBUSTIBLE DUST. 161

I have here two boards, about twelve by eighteen inches, nailed to-
gether, forming a V {see Fig. 1). Just outside of the V an ordinary Bun-
sen's gas-burner is placed, and within is a small handful of dust taken
from a sash-and-blind factory. Upon blowing it smartly with the bel-
lows a cloud is formed about fifteen feet high — extending, in fact, to
the ceiling — which ignites from the lamp and produces a flash, very
quick and exceedingly hot, resembling very much a gunpowder-flash.
You will notice that a large amount of dust falls from all around the
edge of the flame without burning ; that is because it is not thick
enough. Two things are necessary : first, that each grain of dust be
surrounded with air, so that it can get the oxygen required instantly ^
and, secondly, that each grain shall be so near its neighbor that the flame
will bridge over the space and pass the fire from particle to particle.

I think, after seeing the immense flame produced by such a small
amount of fine saw and sand-paper dust, you will no longer wonder at
the rapid spread of flames in furniture and similar factories. You know
it is practically impossible to put out a fire after any headway is attained
in these establishments ; the draught produced will blow all the dust
from walls and rafters into the air, and the building in an instant is a
mass of flame. Perhaps many of you remember the fire in the East-
Side Saw-Mills, a few years ago. Large masses of fine sawdust had
probably collected upon the rafters, and the whole roof was perhaps
filled with cobwebs loaded down with dust. A fire started from one
of the torches used and shot through the mills with lightning-like
rapidity, and, save for the fact that the ends and sides of the building
were all open, there would have followed an explosion like that at the
flour-mills. As it was, the men had very great difficulty in escaping
■with their lives, notwithstanding that a short run in any direction would
have taken them out of the mill.

It is very evident that too great care cannot be taken to keep all
such factories and mills as free from dust as possible.

I will now blow some ordinary starch into the air in the same Tvay,
and you notice the flame is more vivid than in the last experiment, and,
if you were in my position, you would notice that the heat produced
is much greater. Notice now that this powdered sugar burns in the
same way.

You will see from the experiments further on that three-quarters
of an ounce of starch' will throw a box, weighing six pounds, easily
twenty feet into the air, and that half an ounce, burned in a box, will
throw up the cover three inches with a heavy man standing upon it.

With these facts, which I have demonstrated before you, no one
need regard as a mystery the Barclay Street explosion in New York
city, where a candy-manufactory, in which large amounts of starch and
sugar might in many ways be thrown into the air by minor disturb-
ances, took fire and completely wrecked a building and destroyed many
lives.

VOL. xiv. — 11

l62

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

I will now burn in the same way some buckwheat, which, as j-ou
will observe, gives a very large blaze ; now some corn-meal, which is
too coarse to burn as well ; now some rye-flour, which burns much bet-

Fig. 2.

ter than the corn ; now some oatmeal, the finer part of which only
burns ; and so I might continue with all sorts of finely-ground vegetable
material.

Let us take up now the produqts of the manufacture of flour from
wheat. There were between three and four hundred tons of these
materials, upon which I am now to experiment, in the Washburn Mill
at the time of explosion, and there was a corresponding amount in the
Diamond and Humboldt Mills, whicli, b}^ their sudden burning, pro-
duced the second and third shocks heard directly following the explo-
sion of the larger mill.

The wheat is first placed in a machine where it is rattled violently
and brushed. At the same time a strong draught of air passes through
it, taking up all the fine dust, straw, etc., and conve^dng it through a
spout to a room known as the wheat-dust room, or perhaps more com-
monly it is blown directly out of the mill.

You see some of this material here ; it looks like the wood-dust of
the first experiment, and, as you see, burns with a quick and sudden
flash when subjected to the same conditions.

Here, then, we have the first source of danger in a flour-mill. A
thick cloud of this dust, when conveyed through a spout by air, will
burn in an instant if it takes fire ; and, if there is any considerable
amount of dust, as there would be if there were a dust-room, an explo-
sion will follow which may become general if it stirs up a thick dust-
cloud throughout the mill.

The wheat after it has been cleaned in this way goes to the crush-
ers, which are plain or fluted iron or porcelain rollers, working like the
rollers in a rolling-mill. The object of these rollers is, I believe, to
break off the bran in as large pieces as j^ossible, and to crush out or
flatten the germ so that it can be separated with the bran from the rest
'of the meal.

The crushed wheat goes now to the stones, where so much heat is
produced (average 135° Fahr.) that a large amount of steam is formed

EXPLOSIONS FROM COMBUSTIBLE DUST. 163

from the moisture in the materials. This steam would condense in the
meal and interfere with bolting, etc, if it were not removed. To effect
this another di-aught of air and another sjDOut are employed, and, as
might be expected, this current takes a large quantity of the very finest
flour, called flour-dust, with it. To save this a room is provided near
the end of the spout, called the flour-dust house. The spout conveying
steam and dust enters this room on one side, and another spout oppo-
site leaves it, passing to the open air. It is in this comparatively dead-
air space that the dust settles, and can be collected from the floor.
Here is some of this material, which, as you see, when blown into the
air, produces a vivid flash, extending from the table to the wall.

The evidence taken before the coroner's jury shows very clearly that
it was this material that started the great explosion
of May 2d. Just how the mill took fire will prob-
ably never be known of course, but in all proba-
bility the stones either ran dry — that is, were
without any meal between them — or some foreign
substance, such as a nail, was in the feed, produ-
cing a train of sparks such as is produced by an
emery-wheel, or a scissors-grinder's wheel. These
sparks set fire to small wads of very hot dust, which,
as soon as they were fanned into a blaze, commu-
nicated it to the spout and house full of dust. An
eye-witness of the explosion first saw fire issuing
from the corner of the mill where this flour-dust
spout was situated, the end of the spout having
probably been blown out. This fire was followed
instantly by a quick flash, seen through all the win-
dows of the floor upon which the flour-dust houses
were situated, followed instantly by a flash in the
second story, then the third, and, in rapid succes-
sion, fourth, fifth, and sixth stories ;
then followed the great report pro-
duced when the immense stone walls
were thrown out in all four directions,
and the roof and part of the interior
of the mill shot into the air like a
rocket. ^

It would seem that a
blaze is necessary to ig-
nite the mixture, for I
have tried powerful elec-
tric sparks from a ma-
chine, and from a battery of Leyden-jars ; also incandescent platinum
wire in a galvanic circuit, and glowing charcoal, without producing
any fire, however thick the dust might be. Perhaps, however, under

Fig. 3

i54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

more favorable conditions the dust would ignite directly from sparlis,
but it seems very improbable.

Let us continue now with the process through which the ground
wheat is made to pass. From the stones it is conveyed to the bolting-
reels, where the very finest is sifted out first, and we obtain a grade of
flour'; after the finer material is sifted out it goes to a coarser bolt,
where the " middlings," as it is called, passes through, leaving the
bran which comes out at the end of the reel. The middlings, as it
comes from the bolts, has fine bran and dust in it, and, to purify it, it
is subjected to an operation similar to that of cleaning the wheat, that
is, in the middlings purifiers it is subjected to a draught of air which
takes away all the light bran and dust, leaving the heavier material
(purified middlings), which goes again to the stones to be ground into

flour. ' , . „

Here is some of the dust from these "middlings-machmes ; you
observe it burns as the other materials burned, quickly, and with in-
tense heat.

Here is some of the purified middlings ; each grain is comparatively
large and heavy, making it difficult to blow it well into the air, but, as
the blaze produced by each particle is quite large, a flash is produced
which does not differ materially from the others.

Here is some of the general dust of the mill, that is, dust swept up
from the floors, walls, beams, etc. You will see it acts in all respects
like the other substances.

And, finally, here is some of the flour taken this afternoon from the
flour-sai at home ; it burns, you observe, if possible with even more
energy than the other kinds of dust.

I have performed a few experiments, which I will now repeat, which
will illustrate to you the immense power that these materials exert
when burned in a confined space.

This box (Fig. 2) has a capacity of two cubic feet ; the cover has a
strip three inches deep nailed around it, so that it telescopes into the
box; there is in this lower corner an opening for the nozzle of the bel-
lows, in this an opening for the tube to the lamp. I place now a little
flour in the corner, light the lamp, and my assistant places the cover
upon the box and steps upon it. Take notice that upon blowing through
the hole, and fiUing the box with a cloud of flour, the cover comes up
suddenly, man and all, until the hot gas gets a vent, and a stream ot
fire shoots out in all directions.

Here is a box (Fig. 3) of three cubic feet capacity, includmg this
spout, nine inches square and fifteen inches long, coming from the top
of it- at the ends doors are arranged closed like steam-boiler man-
holes ; openings for light and bellows are arranged as in the previous

Here is a box, weighing six pounds, that will just slip over the
spout; it has a rope lest it should strike the wall after the explosion.

EXPLOSIONS FROM COMBUSTIBLE DUST. 165

Placing now the lamp in the box, some dust in the corner, and the box
over the spout, we are ready for another explosion. You observe, after
blowing vigorously for a second or two, the dust in the box takes fire ;
the box over the spout is shot off, and rises until the rope (about twelve
feet long) jerks it back ; it strikes the stage with great force, rebounds
and clears the foot-lights, and would strike the floor below were it not
for the rope.

I have thrown a box similar to this in the open air twenty feet
high, while, as we shall see presently, less than an ounce of flour is
being consumed.

I have fastened over the top of the spout five thicknesses of news-
paper ; upon igniting a boxful of dust as before, the paper is thrown
violently into the air, accompanied by a loud report as it bursts.

For the last experiment I have a box of four cubic feet capacity
(Fig. 4) ; five sides are one and a half inch thick, the remaining side
one-quarter inch. Upon igniting the dust in this box, filled as in the
other cases, the quarter-inch side bursts, and a stream of fire shoots
out half-way across the stage.

Fig. 4.

One pound of carbon and two and two-thirds pounds of oxygen,
when they combine to produce carbonic acid, will evolve heat enough'
if it were applied through a perfect heat-engine, to raise 562 tons ten
feet high; if, therefore, forty per cent, of flour is carbon, it would
require two and a half pounds to accomplish this result, if an en^ne
from which there would be absolutely no radiation, conduction, orloss
of heat, in any way, were a practical possibility. Let us see how much
air would be required to supply oxygen enough. Under ordinary con-
ditions every 100 cubic inches of air contains 7.13 grains of oxygen,
from which we find that loli cubic feet of air would be required for
the 2f pounds of oxygen. Hence the 2^ pounds of flour must be equally
distributed as a dust through 151^ cubic feet of air, in order to produce
the most powerful result.

If 41 ounces of flour requires 151 cubic feet of air for perfect com-
bustion, one cubic foot of air will supply oxygen enough for y^T of an
ounce of flour. Hence our box, which lifts the man so readily, burns

i66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

one-half ounce of flour or less ; and the other, which throws the box
into the air, three-quarters of an ounce, unless, as I thmk quite prob-
able, an additional amount of air is drawn in through the cracks as soon
as the vent is opened at the top of the box. In fact, these experi-
ments work better if a few small holes are made near the bottom of

4- j-j fi 1") O X G S

It may be worthy of mention here, as a point of interest to insur-
ance companies that, in all dust-explosions, a fire precedes the explo-
sion in every case. The dust must burn before the heat that produces
the immense expansive force is generated.

Too great precaution cannot be taken in all kinds of manufactories,
where combustible dust is produced, against fire, especially in those
establishments where it is conveyed in thick clouds by air-draughts
thi-ough spouts and rooms.

PEOFESSOK HUXLEY BEFOEE THE ENGLISH COPY-
EIGHT COMMISSION.*

CHAIRMAN. Your attention has, no doubt, been called to the copy-
right question in a practical shape ?
Ansicer. Yes.
Q. Will you kindly give the commission a general outline of the

way in which it presents itself to you ?

A. It appears to me, in the first place, that, if there be any founda-
tion for property at all, it is as clear in the case of a book as of any-
thing else, a book being the investment of a man's capacity and knowl-
edo-e, and requiring the sacrifice of a vast amount of his time. Under
those circumstances it appears to me that prima facie it has the same
rio-ht to be protected as any other kind of property. But then, oi
co'urse, a practical difficulty arises from the fact that a book can be
readily copied, and that under those circumstances what evidently
amounts to stealing the property of the author cannot very well be
brought under the ordinary conditions of theft. I should, however, be
glad in the first place to express my belief that, so far as a matter of
right is concerned, if there be any foundation for rights of property,
the right of an author in a book is as complete, and extends as far, as
the right of anv person to any property whatever. I think that my
view upon the "subject will be clear if I take the concrete case of a
man who has written a book and who has a certain number of printed

> Friday April 13 1877 : Lord John Manners, M. P., in the chair. Members of the
commission' present, Sir Henry T. Holland, Sir John Rose, Sir H. Druramond ^\olff Ed-
ward Jenkins, Esq, M. P, Dr. William Smith, James Anthony Froude, Esq., Anthony
TroUope, Esq.

THE JEXGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 167

copies of it in his printer's or publisher's hands. I presume that there
is no doubt whatever that those copies are his property in the strictest
sense of the word, and that the law will protect him against any per-
son who proposes to rob him of that property. I have recently met
with the argument (and, singularly enough, professing to proceed from
the straitest school of free-traders), that the state, or the Legislature
acting for it, should, as I understand the argument, regard books as a
kind of property to be disposed of mainly for the benefit of the persons
who read them, and that the state should take upon itself somewhat
the same function as it used formerly to do when it passed sumptuary
laws, and should regulate the amount of profit to be derived by the
author according to what it considers fair and reasonable. That strikes
me as being a reversal of all rules of commercial policy at present
recognized. But supposing it to be admitted that that is a right and
just thing to do, I do not see why you should not go a step further.
If, for example, I had had the good fortune to write such a work as
" Hamlet " or the " Principia," it would appear, according to that line
of argument, that the state would be justified in seizing all the copies
of it, and in disposing of them in such a manner as might be conducive
to their distribution, and that mainly on the ground of the great ser-
vice to the public which those books might render. I do not know
whether any one has carried the argument so far as that, but it appears
to me to be the legitimate outcome of it. However, an author who
has an edition in his publisher's hands has a right, at present, to regard
it as his absolute property, to deal with as he pleases, and he has a
further right as vender to make any contract which he pleases with any
person who proposes to be a purchaser of one of the copies of that
book ; that is to say, if he chooses to make it a condition of sale that
the purchaser shall not copy or multiply by printing the work which
the vender sells under certain penalties, I apprehend that the existing
law will enable him to recover those penalties from any person who
violates that contract. The property being his own, he has a right to
make any conditions he pleases with regard to the disposal of it ; the
person who buys buys on those conditions, and is subject to them.
That appears to me to be the natural mode of looking at the trade in
books as a branch of commerce which is subject to the ordinary rules
of free trade, namely, that a man shall make any contract which he
pleases with regard to the disposal of his property. And I look upon
the copyright law simply as a means of overcoming the inconvenience
which would arise out of that state of things ; it would be a very cum-
brous process ; it would largely interfere with the sale of books, and
it would doubtless be very hard to recover the penalties in the case of
a breach of contract. So far from copyright law being any favor
which the state confers upon the author, any privilege Avhich is granted
to him by the state, it seems to me that it is simply a mode of pre-
venting such inconvenience as I have just referred to ; so that in my

i68 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

apprehension the application of the word " monopoly " to persons who
possess rights under the copyright law is an entire mistake ; it is
merely a contrivance, arising- out of the peculiar nature of book prop-
erty, to put that property upon the same footing as other kinds of
property. I think that that is all I have to say upon the general part
of the question.

Q. Are we to understand it to be your contention that, under the
old common law of the country, there would have been a right in the
author to sell or not to sell his book in any way he pleased, and that
for the convenience of the public the statute law has intervened, and,
by what is commonly called the law of copyright, has attached certain
conditions, and even restrictions, to that common-law right, for the
benefit of the author on the one hand and of the public on the other ;
is that generally your view ?

A. I would not suggest for a moment that that is the actual his-
torical origin of copyright law, but I think that that is the way in
which it ought to be regarded as a matter of equity.

Me. Teollope. Those who have given evidence before us rather in
opposition to than in support of the present law of copyright have
sometimes done so on the plea that the law at present is favorable
rather to booksellers than to authors, and they have based that plea on
an idea that authors, as a rule, dispose of their copyrights to publishers,
so that the property becomes not the property of the man who has
worked with his brain, but merely of a speculator. As far as you are
aware, do you think that authors do dispose of their copyrights entirely ?

A. I cannot say. I certainly do not do so myself, and I do not
think that I know among the men of science anybody who does ; but
it appears to me that, supposing such to be the case, it applies to all
sorts of property, and to the relations of needy men to middle-men of
all kinds.

Q. The second part of your answer is perhaps a sufficient answer to
the next question which I was going to ask you. As far as you are
aware it is not so ; but, even if it were so, you do not think that that
would be any argument against the present law of copyright ?

-4. No ; I take it that that must inevitably happen wherever men
want money, and there are persons who are willing to buy their prop-
erty.

Q. It has been suggested to us, though I can hardly say that it has
been absolutely recommended, that, in lieu of the present modes of
disposing of literary propert}-, an author should have a right to a con-
tinued royalty; that is to say, that any publisher should be enabled to
bring out an author's work, paying him some proportion of the price,
which should be fixed not at all by the author, but by the law. Do
you imagine that such a scheme as that could work ?

A. No. Who is to be the judge as to what is the value of the
author's work but himself ? Who is there in the Government who is

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 169

competent to form the slightest conception about it ? What suggests
itself to me is that the matter should be left to the ordinary operations
of supply and demand. Why am I to be debarred from making any
bargain I please with regai'd to a piece of literary property, otherwise
than with regard to any other property ?

Q. Does not it occur to you that no fixed percentage, let it range
as it might, from five up to fifty per cent., could be fairly applicable to
all classes of books ?

A. Am I to understand that the proposition is to make one fixed
percentage for all classes of books ?

Q. As far as we have understood the proposition that is the propo-
sition which has been made.

A. I can hardly conceive that that has been made as a serious
proposition by anybody who knows anything about the writing of
books ; it is simply astonishing.

Q. You are aware of the present term of copyright ?

A. Yes.

Q. You are aware that the copyright for your works will probably
not com.e to an end all at the same period, unless it should happen
that you should live for a very long time after the completion of the
last ; for instance, that if you were to die say within the next fifteen,
twenty, or thirty years, the copj'right of your works would come to a
close at various periods, the law being that each should have Avhichever
was longest, forty-two years or seven years after life ; and you may
probably be aware, to take the instance of one author, that the earliest
of Mr. Dickens's copyrights are running out, I believe, in this year, and
that the latter of them will run on to, I think, the year 1912. Does it
not occur to you that it would be desirable that property of this kind
should come to its conclusion all at one and the same time ?

A. Your question rather involves an opinion upon the propriety of
terminating the copyright at all, and I am by no means satisfied that
there is any ground for terminating a man's right to his property in
books rather than in anything else.

Q. You are probably aware that the French term is fifty years after
death, and the German thirty years after death ?

A. Yes.

Q. And that therefore in Germany or in France the copyrights of
an author will come to their conclusion at the same time ?

A. Yes.

Q. I will ask you whether you do not think that that mode is a
better mode than the one which we have adopted. Putting aside the
question whether an author's copj'right should be perpetual, and assum-
ing that the law will enact as it has enacted, that there shall be a term,
w^ould it not appear to you that a term similar to the French or the
German term would be better than ours ?

A. I think so, if you are to have a limit.

lyo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Q. You will no doubt perceive, with regard to your own works,
that un,der the present system a time will come when your executors,
or those who come after you, will be debarred from protection in the
publication of all your works, although they will be protected in the
publication of <i part ?

A. Certainly'.

Q. Does not that appear to you to be inconvenient ?

A. I think so, very.

Mk. Jexkins. You say that you think that a book, being the invest-
ment of a man's capacity and knowledge and time, is as much his prop-
erty as any other property, and that the right of an author extends as
far as the right of any person to any property whatever. I only want
to ask you to point out what, of course, must have occurred to you,
that there is a distinction between a book which conveys ideas and a
machine which embodies them in a form which cannot be carried away
or altered ; and I would ask, considering the fact that supposing you
write a book, another man, without stealing your book can steal all
your ideas, and adapt and use them, whether there is not, therefore, a
distinction between the property in a book and the property in any
other thing ?

A. No ; I do not think that the property in a man's book consists
in the ideas. I should limit his property entirely to the particular form
in which he chooses to clothe those ideas. If you come to look into
the matter carefully, it would be very hard to say how far the ideas
contained in a man's book are his own ; he owes them very largely to
his ancestors and his surroundings, and to other people, and I do not
think thafit is at all clear that you would be justified in laying an em-
bargo upon a particular set of ideas because they happened to be con-
tained in a particular book. My contention for the protection of prop-
erty in books is entirely with regard to the particular form in which
the author chooses to put his ideas.

Q. Supposing that, instead of writing a book, a man gives a series
of lectures, for instance, as you do — fortunately for England — and that
those lectures are reported, or that persons carry away in their memory
the words and the essence of them, you admit that then, a man having
chosen to disperse them to the world, neither on principle nor upon the
grounds of expediency ought it to be held that those lectures are to
be reserved for the man himself ?

A. Certainly not the ideas or the facts ; but I take it that a man
has no right to publish a report of what he shall call my lecture ; that
is quite another thing : then he asserts that the form is mine as well
as the substance. If he chooses to appropriate my ideas and himself
publish them in any other form, and say, " This is what I think," I do
not think that he should be prevented from doing so, and in my opinion
he has a right to do it; but it is quite another matter if he calls anything
which he chooses to publish my lecture.

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 171

Q. Take the case of Fichte : when he was twelve years of age, if he
heard a sermon or an address he could go away and repeat it verbally ;
you cannot prevent that ?

A. Certainly not.

Q. He carries away the ideas, and carries away the whole thing: is
he to be prevented from transferring it to anybody else ?

A. He is to be prevented from putting it in the shape of a book,
and selling it to the disadvantage of the person who has given the lect-
ure or the sermon.

Q. Are you laying down a question of abstract principle, or is it
merely one of expediency ?

A. AYith regard to that particular case of lectures, it is a point on
which I hold a very strong opinion indeed, I have seen the opinion
advanced that a man who has given a lecture has given it to the world,
in the same way that a man who has written or published a book has
given it to the world, and that on the ground of his having given it to
the world he cannot call it back again. I must confess that that strikes
me as the strangest confusion between publication and donation. If I
announce myself as ready to give a lecture to-morrow, to which persons
may be admitted at a certain fee, I make a contract with the persons
who come that, in consideration of their paying so much, they shall
hear me speak for an hour, and that is all ; I do not sell my right to
print it and sell the lecture, and especially not my right to call it mine ;
the contract is a perfectly clear one. Take the case that I open a gal-
lery of photographs, and that I say that people shall be admitted on
paying a shilling each : I do not give to every person who comes there
the right to copy my photographs and sell those copies himself; we see
at once that that would be a preposterous supposition ; and in the same
way a person, who is admitted to my lecture on the understanding that
he is to get his money's worth (if it be his money's worth, I do not say
that it will be) in hearing me speak for an hour, does not thereby obtain
the privilege of making a profit by printing it and calling it my lecture.

Q. But you admit that, even if you give a lecture to a limited audi-
ence, your ideas are thereby distributed ?

A. I do not ask for any protection to ideas ; it is the form of the
thing which is mine.

Q, It is simply the matter of the form in which you embody your
ideas, and it is for that that you claim protection?

A. Certainly.

Q. Is there not a very great distinction between the form literary
and the form artistic or mechanical ?

A. I really do not see where the distinction lies.

Q. Supposing that I have invented a machine, if I write an account
of it to the Contemporary lieriew or the ForntigJdhj, or to any me-
chanical mao-azine, and it is published, after that I cannot get a patent
for it ?

172 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. No.

Q. Why, therefore, should you who have given a lecture, or have
even written a lecture, if you choose to make it known in any way to
other persons, have a right still to get a copyright for it ?

A. The assumption in that argument, I think, is that the patent law
is just : to that I venture to demur, in which case I need not follow
out the parallel,

Q. I am advisedly not putting a question about the justice of it ?

A. It is obvious that, if I do not admit the justice of a regulation in
virtue of which a man who has published a design for a machine cannot
obtain a patent for it, the rest of the argument does not affect me.

Q. Then you would put them all on the same footing ?

A. Certainly.

Q. So that, really, to support the whole of your argument, you
would be obliged to fall back upon this : that a man has a copyright
in his ideas ?

A. No ; in the form into which he puts them. For example, in the
case which you were suggesting to me just now, a man who makes a
machine not only has an idea about his machine, but he embodies it in
a particular form, with a certain application ; and I think that is one of
the great defects of the present patent law, that it has given protection
to the idea in applications of which the original inventor never dreamed.
I should restrict all protection of that kind to the precise result of a
man's intellectual activity, that which is specially his own.

Q. Before we had a copyright law it was held, as you are probably
aware, that if a man had embodied his ideas in the shape of a manu-
script, that manuscript before he had handed it to a printer was his
property, not merely the paper and the writing, but also all that was
in it, that is to say, the form in which it was embodied, and that he
could sell it to a publisher ; but now there is an alteration in that :
before a man hands his manuscript to a publisher he has a right to the
ideas and to the form, but, after he has handed it to a publisher, and it
is. published, then in virtue of the statute law he becomes entitled to a
property in what you very properly call the form of the book. The
result, after all, is that it has simply been adopted as a matter of ex-
pediency and of public policy that there should be conferred upon men
who write books a certain right of obtaining a profit from them during
a certain time. If your contention were correct with regard to the
theory of a property in books and ideas, ought not the property to be
a lasting one without any definite period ?

A. Certainly; I have not a doubt of it.

Q. Then you would urge upon this commission that, when a man
had put his ideas into the form of a book, the copyriglit in that book
ought to exist forever ?

A. I think that, as a matter of strict right, it should be so, but as a
matter of expediency I do not think it is worth while asking for it ; I

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 173

think that a couple of generations would probably be as much as in
practice is really needed ; but, if you ask me what I think is his ab-
stract right, I should certainly say that the man should have the prop-
erty in perpetuity, and be able to hand it down to his children like
any other property.

Q. Then on what theory is our present copyright law framed, if
that is your opinion ?

A.. I would rather decline to have to justify the existing copyright
law at all ; I am not concerned in doing so ; I think that it is not easily
justifiable.

Q. That brings us to a practical question : how would you practi-
cally embody in legislation your idea of the principles of a just copy-
right law.

A. That would really be a matter requiring very grave considera-
tion.

Q. Let us take it in stages. First of all, at all events, you would
insist upon the absolute right of the author to a property in his book?

A. Yes.

Q. In perpetuity ?

A. I do not insist upon perpetuity.

Q. I mean simply for the moment, abstractedly ?

A. For the present.

Q. Then you would recognize that there might be reasons of public
policy why it should not be granted in perpetuity ?

A. I would rather say that it is not worth while practically to at-
tempt to get a thing which it is hardly likely you will be able to get
under the present state of the public feeling. If we had to begin de
novo, I should certainly insist upon the perpetuity of the property, but
at present I think that it would be impracticable and hardly worth
while.

Q. Still, going upon your principle that, abstractedly, the author
ought to have it in perpetuity, of course it would only be a reservation
on the ground of public policy, or something of that sort, which would
justify a limitation ?

A. I think that there is another justification, namely, that it is not
worth while in real life to attempt to get things which it is impossible
to get.

Q. We are really looking at the matter for the moment from differ-
ent standing-points : I am not asking you to consider it from the point
of view of an author who is willing to take what he can get ; I am ask-
ing you, if you will do so for the moment, to look at it simply from the
point of view of a statesman who is considering what ought to be the
principles of the law. First of all you lay down a very wide and gen-
eral principle, namely, that an author is entitled to the ideas which he
embodies in a book as much as any other person who owns property,
whether it is a table or an acre of land, is entitled to it ?

174 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. Pardon me, I have been very careful to say that I thiuk that an
author has a right to the form in which he embodies his ideas.

Q. That is what I said ; I supposed him to embody his ideas in a
book. Then you will admit that, if there is a copyi-ight law which limits
that right, the only justification for that limitation would be public
policy, or public convenience, or something of that sort. Let us take
it from that point of view : how can you reconcile that view of the
principle of a copyright law with the existing law ?

A. I do not reconcile it ; I ventured to say just now that I think
that the present law is bad in principle.

Q. Then you admit that the present law is not based on your prin-
ciple ?

A. Certainly not.

Sir H. D. Wolff. Have you thought upon the subject whether it
would not be for the advantage of authors that the copyright should be
extended for a period longer than exists at present ; that it should
even be made the perpetual property of the family of the author ?

A. My impression is, that it would be for the advantage of the
author if copyright were made perpetual.

Q. You said just now that the legislation had not given any privi-
lege to the author by giving him copyright; surely it gives him a pro-
tection to his property which would not otherwise exist ; do you not
think so ?

A. Quite so. But I ventured to say that that was not a boon
but simply a piece of justice, and that he ought to have the pro-
tection.

Q. But do you not think that the Legislature would not give the
protection unless it was for the benefit of the public that authors should
be encouraged ?

A. Assuming that it is advantageous that they should be encour-
aged, a certain benefit is given to the public.

Q. The copyright is given to the author that he should be free to
publish his works?

A. I look upon a book in the same way as I look upon any other
kind of property. There are people who discuss the expediency of the
protection of any property at all ; but it appears to me that upon every
ground upon which it is expedient to protect any sort of property it is
expedient to protect book property.

Q. I am not at all disputing that, but I wish to arrive at this view,
that you give this protection to the author to enable him to have prop-
erty in what is a peculiar property ; there must be a peculiar protection
given to a property of peculiar nature, and, having once given him that
protection, do you not think that the book itself, or the chattel which
he produces, should then go into the ordinary rules of supplj^ and de-
mand ; that is to say, that when you have done that, and have reserved
to him his property in his book, tlie public ought to be able to obtain

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 175

that book, so long as his rights are guarded, at the cheapest possible
rate?

A. I do not see why the public has a right to demand it in the case
of books more than in the case of beef, or mutton, or potatoes.

Q. Except that in the supply of beef and mutton and potatoes there
is a regular competition ?

A.. Certainly.

Q. "Whereas, there is no competition in books. If you cannot get
beef you will get mutton. Whereas, if you cannot get Macaulay's
" History " j^ou will get nothing else which represents Macaulay's
" History." You want that particular book "

A. But you might say that you want six-year old mutton, and that
you cannot be content with anything else.

Q. We do not negotiate with foreign countries to obtain a copy-
right for six-year old mutton. The object of this commission is not
only to improve the laws of copyright in England, but to see whether
we cannot extend the rights of English authors to other countries ?

A. That is a totally distinct question.

Q. We are the public practically who negotiate for you. If we do
that, do you not think that we are entitled to some compensation for
the trouble which we have in obtaining all these privileges for you ?

A. I am not at all clear about that. I think that, in these matters,
the state should have regard to public justice and public morality,
without looking for any particular reward from the persons who are
served.

Q. But by the present system of copyright, according to the ideas
of some people, it does not merely secure the property for the author,
who is clearly entitled to every advantage which the law can give him,
but it enables the sale of books to be conducted on principles which are
not acknowledged" in any other branch of trade. For instance, it en-
ables a bookseller or publisher to keep up books at an unnatural price
for his own advantage, and, as is thought by some people, veiy often
to the disadvantage of the author.

A. That I cannot comprehend, because in all my own dealings with
publishers I have made my own terms, and, if the terms of the publisher
do not suit me, I do not publish with that particular publisher.

Q. That I can understand ; you make your own terms, no doubt,
but some people think that, if instead of the present system of publish-
ing books at a dear rate, and putting them through the circulating
libraries at a high rate, any means were devised by which authors could
go direct to the public, a larger sale of a cheaper edition of their books
would give them greater popularity, as well as more money, than the
present restricted system through the circulating libraries ?

A. I think that it is a very dangerous thing to suppose that you can
regulate matters of that kind by legislation.

Q. But supposing that we obtain copyright for you in America, where

176 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the sale of your books is stated to be enormous, it gives jou protection,
and a greater remuneration for your books in America ; would it not
be unfair in that case that we, having done this for j'ou, should as the
British public be exposed to having a dear edition of your books here,
and a cheap edition in America ?

A. I would much rather that you did not interfere with us at all.
I am now speaking of you as legislators. I would rather that you
should not afford especial protection, but should consider books as
property like any other property, and not meddle with us in future.

Q. We cannot take that course, because foreigners do interfere
with you.

A. And in my opinion they will continue to interfere. I know
something about the United States, and their mode of doing business
in books in that country, and my own belief is that the expectation
that the Americans will ever listen to any proposal of English copy-
right is chimerical ; their system of doing business is quite opposed to
it. I do not think that this prospective boon which you offer us is like-
ly to have any great value.

Q. As a matter of author's amour propre, would it not be far more
satisfactory to you if your books were possessed by a very great many
households in this country rather than being hired from a circulating
library ?

A. I do not care much about it ; if I have half a dozen careful read-
ers, I would rather have them than all the rest of the world put together.

Q. If you got more pay than you do now from having your books
sold at a cheaper rate, you would be satisfied with that ?

A. I sliould like to get the more pay in my own fashion, and to
deal with it like any other business. I do not want anybody else to
help me to get more pay ; if you let me deal with my own property in
my own fashion, I am quite happy, and I do not thank anybody who
interferes.

Sir H. Holland. From your knowledge of American dealing, do
you think it at all probable that the Americans would be inclined to
make a convention upon the understanding that the book for which
copyright is granted is to be published and printed in America ?

A. I have never heard that question discussed.

Chairman. Several questions have been asked upon the general
aspect of copyright. Coming more to the details of the question,
might I ask you what in your opinion would be the effect of the abro-
gation of or a considerable diminution in the terms of copyright upon
works the production of which requires time and research, and perhaps
costly illustrations ?

A. My impression is, that it would be altogether fatal to the pro-
duction of works of that kind. I think it will be obvious that such
must be the case ; and I can speak the more strongly here, because
works of that kind are those with which I am familiar. I will take the

THE EXGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 177

case of any one who has been preparing a work, let us sav upon com-
parative anatomy, which has probably occupied him for a "great many
years. He has himself had to make a great number of laborious dissec-
tions and to have them drawn, and he or his publisher has had to invest
a great deal of money in illustrations. He brings out his book. That
book, if it is well done, will preserve its value for a century. At the
present moment Cuvier's " Ossemens Fossiles," which I think has been
published for about half a century, is in many respects as valuable a
book as ever it was, and is as often consulted as ever it was. If when
such a book as that is published, or within a short time after it is pub-
lished, anybody has a right to republish it, the practical effect is that
the text will be copied, at probably a thousandth part of the expendi-
ture and time required for its original production, then the illustrations
will be copied ; and the natural result will be that the reproduction of
the book will be sold at a price far less than that at which the original
book was sold, the consequence of which is that the author and the
publisher of the latter alike have their interests ruined ; and the practi-
cal result would be that no publisher would take such a book ; in fact,
he could not do it, he would be liable at any moment to be undersold.
That is true of the whole class of botanical works, zoological works,
anatomical works, and the great mass of illustrated works having rela-
tion to physical science.

Q. Carrying on the thought which you have expressed, what, in your
opinion, would be the practical result upon all this important class of
works which you have described of either abrogating or materially
diminishing the term of copyright so far as the public is concerned ?

A. I think that it would simply stop their production, and that
exactly in proportion to their value and usefulness. The more such
works were sought after, and the better they were, and the more large-
ly they were in demand, and suited themselves to the wants of the time,
the more certainly would they be pirated, and I do not see how any-
body could afford to produce them.

Q. Might it not be that some publisher in a very large way of busi-
ness might find that he could impose his own terms both on the author
and the public ?

A. I quite think that that is the inevitable tendency of the aboli-
tion or a great diminution of the term of copyright ; and I would justify
that belief by what happens at the present time in the United States ;
I myself am paid upon books which are published there ; my American
publisher remits me a certain percentage upon the selling price of the
books there, and that without any copyright which can protect him ;
but then I am informed that the practice of all the great houses in
America (there are some three or four large publishing-houses with
very great capital), if anybody publishes one of their books, is to pub-
lish a largely cheaper edition at any cost, and they would make any
pecuniary sacrifice rather than not cut out a rival. The great houses

VOL. XIV. — 12

178 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

understand that, and the consequence is that they do not play that
game with one another ; but, practicallj-, English authors at the pres-
ent time stand in the same relation to the American publishers that
they would to the English publishers if copyright were abolished ; and
whether I get any money or not from America for my works is entirely
dependent upon the strength of my American publisher. If he were
not a man who would not stand being trifled with, and if it were not
known that he was so, he could not afford to pay me anything.

Q. Therefore, in your opinion, the effect of the contemplated change
would be not in the interest of the author, but in the interest of the
publisher ?

A. I think that neither the author nor the publisher would be
served, and I think that the publisher's business would be made very
precarious. He might doubtless sometimes reap large proflts, but he
would always be at the mercy of unscrupulous competition.

Mr. Trollope. Are you assured that this rule to which you allude
among American publishing-houses always prevails ?

A. I cannot say ; I have been assured that it does largely prevail
there.

Q. Then you would be surprised to hear if I told you that a large
American publisher, who has been for many years in the habit of pub-
lishing my own books, and with whom I once remonstrated for doing
so without consulting me, told me that he intended to continue to do
so, but that he would not republish a certain work if it were published
by any other American house before him ?

A. Yes ; that is a very curious fact. I know of no parallel cases.

Q. But if the case to which I have now alluded is a type of the
way in which business is done in the United States, it would be sub-
versive, so far, of the evidence which you have given, would it not ?

A. Quite so ; but my opinion is the exact contrary. I have been
informed (I do not profess to have absolute proofs of it) on exceedingly
good authority that a publisher who has published one or two of your
books in the United States would think himself very hardly used if you
allowed any other publisher to publish for you.

Q. I think that you will understand the point which was put in my
question, which intended to convey the story of a transaction which
had absolutely taken place ?

A. Quite so ; I quite understand that.

Q. I do not know that I need hesitate to say that the publisher
was Mr. Harper, and you are aware that he is probably one of the
largest publishers ?

A. Yes.

Q. You also said, I think, just now incidentally, in answer to a
question from Sir D. Wolff, that you were very strongly of opinion
that American legislation would not give us the international copy-
right which we are seeking ?

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 179

A. I think it exceedingly improbable. So far as I can gather the
state of public opinion in America, their reply to all remonstrances is,
"We want to have cheap books for our people, and we will not. listen
to anytliing which will interfere with our having cheap books for our
people."

Q. You may probably be aware that a very large body of American
publishers, not, I think, including the largest houses, but still including
many large houses, have advocated international copyright ?

A. Yes, I am aware of it.

Q. And you perhaps are aware that, although the list of those who
have done so does not contain all the larger houses, it contains by far
the greatest number of those with whom we are acquainted ?

A. I have understood so. I was never myself quite clear how far
the movement was in earnest.

Q. T think that the house with whom you are yourself concerned,
that of Messrs. Appleton, agree to it, do they not ?

A. I believe so.

Q. I will not mention other names, but can I have reason for sup-
posing that they are not in earnest, considering that they have spent
considerable sums of money in advocating their cause ?

A. I will not venture to say that particular gentlemen who have
advocated this cause are not in earnest ; very possibly they are ; but it
does not appear to me to be compatible with the universal cry which
one hears, or which is always raised, when this question is discussed,
"We want cheap books for our people, and we will have them at all
costs."

Q. Are you aware that the Senate in the United States at one time
assented to a proposition for an international copyright ?

A. I have heard so. It is a very cui'ious thing that whenever nego-
tiations of that kind arise they are carried on very successfully for a
time, and very admirable speeches are made upon all sides, but they
always come to nothing.

Q. In our own legislation at home has it not generally been the
case that great changes have been ventilated for a considerable time
and have failed, and failed, and failed, until at last they have been
passed ?

A. Yes ; that I think has generally been where there has been a
great popular cry in their favor. When I visited the United States
the popular cry appeared to me to be just the other way ; it was for
getting cheap books at all costs. I should not like to give very de-
cided opinions upon these matters, but that is what has struck me.

Dr. Smith. If I understood you aright in reference to illustrated
works you said that the cost of the original drawing, and the drawing
in wood, and the engraving, must be very large, and that there are pro-
cesses, by means of photography and other means, by which they could
be reproduced very cheaply ?

i8o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. Yes.

Q. And consequently that if the term of copyright was materially
abridged, or if another publisher was allowed to reprint them by pay-
ing ten per cent, royalty, he could reprint those works at such a very
much cheaper price than that of the original edition as to render it
almost impossible for a person to obtain any profit from the original
edition ?

A. Not only by the mere process of copying, but it stands to reason
that if anybody has provided woodcuts in an extensively illustrated
work, even if those woodcuts are reexecuted in wood by the best
artists, it can be done at a far less cost for a copyist than for the origi-
nal publisher, because the woodcut in the original book represents not
merely the labor of the wood-cutter, but the labor of an artist who has
been employed before the wood-cutter to make the drawing from which
the wood-cutter makes his woodcut, and in all probability many hours'
labor of the person who made the dissection, or whatever it was, which
is there depicted.

Chairman. Some questions, I believe, were asked you with respect
to copyright in lectures ?

A. Yes.

Q. Are you aware of what the practical protection afforded to lect-
ures by the jDresent law is ?

A. I have understood that it is a very curious protection, and that
you have, I think, to give notice to a justice of the peace.

Q. To two justices of the peace?

A. I should like to speak very strongly upon that point, because I
myself have had occasion to feel the ill effects of the present practice.
I think that it is a most iniquitous thing that a man who is admitted to
a lecture should be able to print it with your name to it, and circulate
it through the country with all the faults and imperfections arising out
of the mode of reporting, without asking your leave or without your
being able to restrain him.

Q. Having expressed the grievance which you feel, are you prepared
to give the commission any suggestion as to the mode of removing that
grievance ?

A. I think that the simple and obvious course is to give a man ab-
solute property in his lecture.

Q. But unless the public were informed in some way that that abso-
lute property was given, might there not be injustice on the other side ?

A. I do not think so ; I think that the light of Nature ought to tell
a man that he has no business to report a lecture and sell it without the
permission of the person who gave the lecture. It does not require a
very keen moral sense to see that that cannot be considered quite a
right proceeding.

Q. But there are reporters and reporters. If a public lecture were
given on a very interesting subject, I presume that the reporters of the

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. i8i

daily press would attend ; would you draw a distinction in that case
between them and a reporter of another sort ?

A. No ; I should always make it the right of the speaker to admit
reporters or not. Allow me to tell you what happened to myself. I
am not complaining of it for a moment, because I knew exactly what
was to be expected, and I did not care whether it happened or not ; but
permit me to state what happened to me in the United States the other
day : I gave three lectures in New York, which had cost me a very
considerable amount of trouble, and they were illustrated by diagrams,
etc. I found that it was the intention of the proprietor of one of
the leading papers there to send short-hand writers who would take
down what I said verbatim ; to send artists who would copy all the
diagrams, and to print my lecture the next day in the paper in full, and
not only so, but when the three lectures were completed to make them
up into a sort of pamphlet and sell it, without consulting me in any
way whatever. As I say, in this particular case I did not care in the
least about this proceeding ; and I have the less reason for complaint,
as the proprietor of the paper subsequently offered me a certain share
in the profits of the sale of the pamphlet ; but, in principle, it appears
to me to be sheer piracy.

Q. That, of course, would be under the law of the United States.
Are you able to tell us what the United States law with respect to
lectures is ?

A. I cannot say, but the same thing might take place here if I had
not given notice to two justices of the peace, or complied with whatever
is the requisite formality, which is a thing I never did in my life. I
fancy that in practice the sam_e thing might be done here.

Q. If you gave a proper notice, you would have the law on your
side?

A. Very few persons know of the existence of that law.

Q. Admitting the grievance to exist, as I think the commission
would probably be prepared to do, in removing it might it not be well
to substitute some more easy process than that of giving notice to two
mao;istrates within five miles ?

A. Certainly, one would think that there must be a great number
of easier processes than that.

Q. It lias been suggested by some witness that a notice put over
the door, so that everybody should see it when he entered the room in
which the lecture was given, that the lecture was copyright would be
sufficient ; would that meet your view ?

A. Yes, or the same practice might be adopted as in the case of re-
serving the right of translation of a book ; you might put on the ticket,
" All rights reserved."

Dr. Smith. Supposing that the lecturer himself gave notice, at the
beginning of the lecture, that he reserved to himself the right of print-
ing it, might not that be sufficient ?

i82 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. There might be a difBculty in proving that ; but if the ticket, in
addition to the other matter which was on it, had printed upon it, " All
rights reserved," or something of that sort, it would be a sufficient
notice.

STEANGE ANIMAL-FEIENDSHIPS.

WHY married folk, so ill-mated as to agree only to diflfer, should
be said to lead a cat-and-dog life, is not very clear, since those
household pets, being intelligent, affectionate, cheerful, and sociable
creatures, very frequently contrive to live harmoniously enough together.
The Aston Hall cat, that ate, associated, and slept, with a huge blood-
hound, only did what iimumerable cats have done. Such companion-
ships are too common to be reckoned among strange animal-friendships,
such as that most singular instance of attachment between two animals
of opposite natures and habits, related to Mr. Jesse by a person on
whose veracity he could depend. The narrator boasted the proprietor-
ship of an alligator which had become so tame that it would follow him
up and down stairs ; while it was so fond of his cat's society that, when
slie lay down before the fire, the alligator followed suit, made a pillow
of puss, and went off to sleep ; and when awake the reptile was only
happy so long as puss was somewhere near, turning morose and ill-
tempered whenever she left it to its own devices.

Many equine celebrities have delighted in feline companions, fol-
lowing in this the example of their notable ancestor, the Godolphin
Arab, between whom and a black cat an intimate friendship existed for
years, a friendship that came to a touching end ; for, when that famous
steed died, his old companion would not leave the body, and, when it
had seen it put underground, crawled slowly away to a hay-loft, and,
refusing to be comforted, pined away and died.

One of Miss Braddon's heroines says : " It is so nice to see a favor-
ite horse looking over the door of his loose-box, Avith a big tabby-cat
sitting on the window-ledge beside him." The big tabby would prob-
ably prefer being on horseback, for puss takes very kindly to the sta-
ble, and the horse takes as kindly to puss. A cat belonging to the
royal stables at Windsor made herself so agreeable to one of the horses
there that, rather than put her to any inconvenience, he would take his
night's rest standing. This was held detrimental to his health, and the
stable authorities, unable to hit upon any other plan, banished poor
pussy to a distant part of the country.

Mr. Huntington, of East Bloomfield, New York, owns a thorough-bred
horse named Narragansett and a white cat. The latter was wont to
pay a daily visit to Narragan sett's stall, to hunt up the mice and
then enjoy a quiet nap. Mr. Huntington removed to Rochester with
his family, leaving the cat behind ; but she complained so loudly and

STRANGE ANIMAL-FRIENDSHIPS. 183

so unceasing!}'- that she was sent on to the new abode. Her first object
was now to get somebody to interpret her desires. At last her master
divined them, and started off with her to the barn. As soon as they
were inside, the cat went to the horse's stall, made herself a bed near
his head, and curled herself up contentedly. When Mr. Huntington vis-
ited the pair next morning, there was puss close to Narragansett's feet,
with a family of five beside her. The horse evidently knew all about
it, and that it behooved him to take heed how he moved his feet. Puss
afterward would go out, leaving her little ones to the care of her friend,
who would every now and then look to see how they were getting on.
When these inspections took place in the mother's presence, she was
not at all uneasy, although she showed the greatest fear and anxiety if
any children or strangers intruded upon her privacy.

A gentleman in Sussex had a cat which showed the greatest affec-
tion for a young blackbird, which was given to her by a stable-boy for
food a day or two after she had been deprived of her kittens. She
tended it with the greatest care ; they became inseparable companions,
and no mother could show a greater fondness for her offspring than she
did for the bird.

Lemmery shut up a cat and several mice together in a cage. The
mice in time got to be very friendly, and plucked and nibbled at their
feline friend. When any of them grew troublesome, she would gently
box their ears. — A German magazine tells of a M. Hecart who placed a
tame sparrow under the protection of a wild-cat. Another eat attacked
the sparrow, which was at the most critical moment rescued by its pro-
tector. During the sparrow's subsequent illness its natural foe watched
over it with great tenderness. — The same authority gives an instance
of a cat trained, like a watch-dog, to keep guard over a yard containing
a hare, and some sparrows, blackbirds, and partridges.

A pair of carriage-horses taken to water at a stone trough, then
standing at one end of the Manchester Exchange, were followed by a
dog who was in the habit of lying in the stall of one of them. As he
gamboled on in front, the creature was suddenly attacked by a mastiff
far too strong for his power of resistance, and it would have gone hard
mth him but for the unlooked-for intervention of his stable-companion,
which, breaking loose from the man who was leading it, made for the
battling dogs, and with one well-delivered kick sent the mastiff into a
cooper's cellar, and then quietly returned to the trough and finished his
drink. In very sensible fashion, too, did Mrs. Bland's half-Danish dog
Traveler show his affection for his mistress's pet pony. The latter had
been badly hurt, and, when well enough to be turned into a field,
was visited there by its fair owner and regaled with carrots and other
delicacies ; Traveler, for his part, never failing to fetch one or two
windfall apples from the garden, laying them on the grass before the
pony, and hailing its enjoyment of them with the liveliest demonstra-
tions of delight.

i84 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

That such relations should exist between the horse and the dog
seems natural enough ; but that a horse should be hail-fellow with a
hen appears too absurd to be true ; yet we have Gilbert White's word
for it that a horse, lacking more suitable companions, struck up a great
friendship with a hen, and displayed immense gratification when she
rubbed against his legs and clucked a greeting, while he moved about
with the greatest caution lest he might trample on his " little, little
friend."

Colonel Montagu tells of a pointer which, after being well beaten
for killing a Chinese goose, was further punished by having the miu*-
dered bird tied to his neck — a penance that entailed his being con-
stantly attended by the defunct's relict. Whether he satisfied her that
he repented the cruel deed is more than we know ; but, after a little
while the pointer and the goose were on the best of terms, living under
the same roof, feeding out of one trough, occupying the same straw
bed ; and, when the dog went on duty in the field, the goose filled the
air with her lamentations for his absence.

A New Zealand paper says : " There is a dog at Taupo and also a
young pig, and these two afibrd a curious example of animal sagacity
and confidence in the bona fides of each other. These two animals live
at the native pah on the opposite side of Tapuaeharuru, and the dog
discovered some happy hunting-grounds on the other side, and informed
the pig. The pig, being only two months old, informed the dog that
he could not swim across the river, which at that sjDot debouches from
the lake, but that in time he hoped to share the adventures of his canine
friend. The dog settled the difficulty. He went into the river, stand-
ing up to his neck in water, and crouched down ; the pig got on his
back, clasping his neck with his forelegs. The dog then swam across,
thus carrying his chum over. Regularly every morning the two would
in this way go across and forage around Tapuaeharuru, returning to the
pah at night ; and, if the dog was ready to go home before the pig, he
would wait till his friend came down to be ferried over. The truth of
this story is vouched for by several w'ho have watched the movements
of the pair for some weeks past."

When Cowper cautiously introduced Puss — a hare that had never
seen a spaniel — to Marquis — a spaniel that had never seen a hare — he
discovered no token of fear in the one, no sign of hostility in the other,
and the new acquaintances were soon in all respects sociable and
friendly — a proof, the poet thought, that there was no natural antipathy
between dog and hare. Upon just as good grounds the same might be
inferred regarding dog and fox. We have read of a tame fox hunting
with a pack of harriers ; and Mr. Moffat, of Bearsley, Northumberland,
owned one that was excessively fond of canine society. In consequence
of detection following a raid on the poultry-yard, Master Rej'nard was
chained up in a grass area. Whenever he caught sight of a dog com-
ing his way, he began fanning his tail, and, laying back his ears, would

STRANGE ANIMAL-FRIENDSHIPS. 185

strain desperately at the full length of his tether, that he might smell
at the mouth of the dog, and use all his arts to induce him to have a
romp, even though he had never set eyes on that especial dog before.

In 1822 some white rats were trapped in Colonel Berkeley's stables.
Mr. Samuel Moss, of Cheltenham, took a fancy to a youngster, and de-
termined to make a pet of him. He was soon tamed, and christened
Scugg. Then he was formally introduced to a rat-killing terrier, a cere-
mony so well understood by Flora that she not only refrained from as-
saulting the new-comer, but actually constituted herself his pi'otectress,
mounting guard over Scugg whenever a stranger came into the room,
growling, snarling, and showing her teeth, until convinced he had no
evil intentions toward her protege. These two strangely-assorted friends
lapped from the same saucer, played together in the garden, and, when
Flora indulged in a snooze on the rug, Scugg ensconced himself snugly
between her legs. He would mount the dinner-table and carry oflE
sugar, pastry, or cheese, while Flora waited below to share in the plun-
der. One day a man brought Mr. Moss another white rat, while the
terrier and Scugg were racing about the room. The stranger was shaken
out of the trap, and presently two white rats were scampering across
the floor pursued by Flora. The chase did not last long, one of them
quickly falling a victim to the terrier's teeth, much to the experimental-
ist's alarm, as his eyes could not distinguish one rat from the other.
Looking around, however, his mind was relieved, for there in his corner
was Scugg, with Flora standing sentry before him — a position she held
until the man and the dead rat were out of the room. When his mas-
ter took a wife to himself, a new home was found for Scugg ; but the
poor fellow died within a month of his removal, and it is not improbable
that the separation from his canine friend was the primary cause of the
rat's untimelv decease.

St. Pierre pronounced the mutual attachment displayed between a
lion at Versailles and a dog to be one of the most touching exhibitions
Nature could offer to the speculations of the philosopher. Such ex-
hibitions are by no means rare. Captive lords of the forest and jungle
have often admitted dogs to theii- society and lived on affectionate terms
with them. Not long ago, an ailing lioness in the Dublin Zoological
Gardens was so tormented by the rats nibbling her toes that a little
terrier was introduced into the cage. His entrance elicited a sulky
growl from the invalid ; but, seeing the visitor toss a rat in the air and
catch it with a killing snap as it came down, she at once came to the
sensible conclusion that the dog's acquaintance was worth cultivating.
Coaxing the terrier to her side, she folded her paw round him and took
him to her breast ; and there he rested every night afterward, ready to
pounce upon any rat daring to disturb the slumbers of the lioness.

The last time we visited the lion-house of the Regent's Park Zoo-
logical Gardens, we watched with no little amusement the antics of a
dog, who was evidently quite at home in a cage occupied by a tiger and

i86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tigress. The noble pair of beasts were reclining side by side, the tiger's
tail hanging over the side of their couch. The dog, unable to resist
the temptation, laid hold of it with his teeth and pulled with a will ;
and, spite of sundry gentle remonstrances on the part of the owner of
the tail, persisted until he elicited a very deep growl of disapproval.
Then he let go, sprang upon the tiger's back, curled himself up, and
went off to sleep. Such friendships are, it must be owned, liable to
come to a tragic ending, like that recorded by an ancient writer, who
tells how a lion, a dog, and a bear, lived together for a long time on
the most affectionate terms, until the dog, accidentally putting the bear
out of temper, had the life put out of his body ; whereupon Leo, en-
raged at losing his favorite, set upon Bruin and made an end of him
too. — Chamheris Journal.

-♦♦♦-

THE SCIENCE OF EA8Y-CHAIES.

THERE is a reason for everything, if we can only find it out ; but
it is sometimes very hard to discover the reasons of even the very
simplest things. Every one who has traveled much, and even those
who have merely looked through books of travels, must have been
struck by the variety of attitudes assumed by the people of different
countries. The Hindoo sits down en the ground with his knees drawn
up close to his body, so that his chin will almost rest upon them ; the
Turk squats down cross-legged ; the European sits on a chair ; while
the American often raises his feet to a level with his head. Nor are
the postures assumed by the same people under varying circumstances
less diverse. Climate or season, for example, will cause considerable
alteration in the posture assumed, as was well shown by Alma-Tadema,
in his pictures of the four seasons exhibited in the Academy a year ago.
In his representation of " Summer," he painted a woman leaning back-
ward on a ledge, with one leg loosely hanging down, while the other
was drawn up so that the foot was on a level with the body. In the
picture of " Winter," on the other hand, we saw a figure with the legs
drawn up in front of the belly. The reason for these different postures
has been explained by Rosenthal. The temperature of the body, as is
well known, is kept up and regulated by the circulation of the blood
through it, and a great proportion of tlie blood contained in the whole
body circulates in the vessels of the intestines. Now, the intestines are
only separated from the external air by the thin abdominal walls, and
therefore any change of temperature in the atmosphere will readily act
upon them, unless they be guarded by some additional protection. The
Hindoos are well aware of this, and they habitually protect the belly
by means of a thick shawl or cummerbund, thus guarding themselves
against any sudden change of temperature. This precaution is also

THE SCIENCE OF EASY-CHAIRS. 187

frequently adopted by Europeans resident in hot climates, and is even
retained hy them after returning to England. But the function of the
cummerbund may, to a certain extent, be fulfilled by change of posture
alone. When the legs are drawn up, as in the picture of " Winter "
already referred to, the thighs partially cover the abdomen, and, taking
the place of additional clothing, aid the abdominal walls in protecting
the intestines and the blood they contain from the cooling influence of
the external air.

Thus it is that in cold weather, when the quantity of covering in
bed is insufficient, persons naturally draw up their legs toward the ab-
domen, so as to retain as much heat as possible before going to sleep.
In hot weather, on the contrary, thej'^ wish to expose the abdomen as
much as possible to the cooling influence of the atmosphere. The post-
ure depicted by Alma-Tadema is the most efficient for this purpose.
It no doubt answers the purpose to lie down flat on one's back ; but in
this position the abdominal walls are more or less tight, whereas, when
one of the legs is drawn up as in the painting just alluded to, the walls
are relaxed, and, the intestines not being subject to any pressure, the
blood in them will circulate more rapidly, and the cooling process be
carried on more effectually. In this attitude also the thighs are com-
pletely separated, and loss of heat allowed from their whole surface.

Varjdng conditions of fatigue also alter the postures which people
assume. When slightly tired one is content to sit down in an ordinary
chair in the position of the letter N with the middle limb horizontal.
As we get more and more fatigued we usually assume positions in
which the limbs of the N become more and more oblique, the trunk
leaning backward and the legs extending forward. If we lie down in
bed on our back the legs will probably become straight, but if we rest
upon our side they will be more or less bent. The straightness of the
legs in the supine position is simply due to their weight, which is then
supported at every point by the bed, but when we lie on our sides the
genuflection of the legs is most agreeable, because not only are the
muscles more perfectly relaxed, but, as the late Prof. Goodsir pointed
out, the bones which form the knee-joint are slightly removed one from
another, and thus the joint itself, as well as the muscles, passes Into a
state of rest. Some of the bamboo easy-chairs manufactured in India
allow us to obtain the advantages of both positions. These chairs are
made in the form of a somewhat irregular, straggling W, and in them
one can lie on one's back with every part of the body thoroughly sup-
ported, and the knees bent in the same way as they would be if one
lay upon one's side.

Thus simple inaction, the relaxation of muscles, and the laxity of
joints, are some of the factors necessary for complete rest, and an
easy-chair, to be perfect, must secure them all.

But it is possible for an easy-chair to secure all these, and yet be
imperfect. We have just said that usually, as the fatigue becomes

i88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

greater and greater, tlie tendency is to assume the position of the N
with the limbs at a more or less obtuse angle, but when sitting in an
ordinary chair we find relief from raising the feet by means of a foot-
stool, although this tends to make the angles of the N more acute in-
stead of more obtuse. Still more relief, however, do we obtain when
the legs are raised up on a level with the body by being placed upon
another chair, or by being rested on the Indian bamboo seat already
described. If, in addition to this, the legs are gently shampooed up-
ward, the sensation is perfectly delightful, and the feelings of fatigue
are greatly lessened. To understand how this can be, it is necessary
for us to have some idea as to the cause of fatigue. Any muscular
exertion can be performed for a considerable time by a man in average
health, without the least feeling of fatigue, but by-and-by the muscles
become weary, and do not respond to the will of their owner so read-
ily as before ; and, if the exertion be too great, or be continued for
too long a time, they will ultimately entirely refuse to perform their
functions. The muscle, like a steam-engine, derives the energy which
it expends in mechanical work from the combustion going on within it,
and this combustion, in both cases, would come to a standstill if its
waste products or ashes were not removed. It is these waste products
of the muscle which, accumulating within it, cause fatigue, and ulti-
mately paralyze it. This has been very neatly shown by Kronecker,
who caused a frog's muscle, separated from the body, to contract until
it entirely ceased to respond to a stimulus. He then washed out the
waste products from it by means of a little salt and water, and found
that its contractile power again returned, just as the power of the
steam-engine would be increased by raking the ashes which were block-
ing up the furnace and putting out the fire. These waste products are
partly removed from the muscles by the blood which flows through
them, and are carried by the veins into the general circulation. There
they undergo more complete combustion, and tend to keep up the tem-
perature of the body. At the same time, however, according to Preyer,
they lessen the activity of the nervous system, producing a tendency
to sleep, and in this way he would, at least to some extent, explain the
agreeable drowsiness which comes on after muscular exertion. It
would seem, however, that the circulation of the blood is insufficient to
remove all the waste products from the muscles, for we find that they
are supplied with a special apparatus for this purpose. Each muscle
is generally insheathed in a thin membrane, or fascia, and besides these
we have thicker fascige insheathino- whole limbs. These fascia act as
a pumping apparatus, by which the products of waste may be removed
from the muscles which they invest. They consist of two layers, with
spaces between. When the muscle is at rest these layers separate and
the spaces become filled with fluid derived from the muscle, and when
the muscle contracts it presses the two layers of its investing sheath
together, and drives out the fluid contained between them. This

THE SCIENCE OF EASY-CHAIRS. 189

passes onward into the lymphatics, where a series of valves prevents its
return, and allows it only to move onward, till at last it is emptied into
the gen -ral circulation.

In strong and healthy people the veins and lymphatics together are
quite able to take up all the fluid which the arteries have supplied to
the muscles, and thus prevent any accumulation from taking place
either in them or in the cellular tissue adjoining them, or at least pre-
vent any such accumulation as might become evident to the eye. In
delicate, weakly persons, or in those who suffer from certain diseases
of the vascular system, this is not the case ; and after standing or
walking for a long time the legs become swollen, so that the boots feel
tight, and sometimes even a distinct impression may be remarked at
tl)at part of the ankle which was covered by the boot. In such per-
sons we can actually see the swelling disappear, after the feet have
been kept rested for some time on a level with the bod}', and it may be
removed more quickly still by gently and steadil}' rubbing the limbs in
one direction from below upward. It is almost certain that what we
thus see in weakly persons occurs to a slighter extent in all, and that
even in the most healthy person after a long walk a slight accumulation
of fluid, laden with the products of muscular waste, occurs both in the
muscles themselves and in the cellular tissue around them, even al-
though we cannot detect it by simple inspection. So long as the limbs
of such a person hang down, the force of gravity retards the return
both of blood through the veins and of lymph through the fasciae and
lymphatics, and thus hinders the muscles from getting rid of those
waste products which caused the fatigue. When the legs are raised,
this hinderance is at once removed, both blood and lymph return more
readily from the muscles, carrying with them those substances which
had been formed by the muscles of the limbs during the exertions
which they had undergone when carrying the body about. So long as
these substances remained where they had been formed, they might
cause in the muscles of the legs an undue amount of fatigue, although,
when distributed over the body generally, they may produce only a
pleasing languor. When the legs are long, the obstruction to the re-
turn of blood and lymph is, of course, greater than when they are
short, and this return will take place more readily when the legs are
raised above the body than when they are only on a level with it. This
may be one of the reasons why some of our long-legged American
cousins are so fond of raising their feet to a level with their heads, or
even higher, although it is very probable that there are reasons still
more powerful, which we may discuss at a future time.

It has already been mentioned that the lymph is propelled along the
interstices of the fascise into the lymphatic vessels by the intermittent
pressure which the muscle exerts upon them from within ; and it seems
natural to suppose that the flow may also be aided by a pressure from
without, in the form of shampooing. Even when the hand is rubbed

190 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

backward and forward upon the leg it will relieve fatigue, but the relief
is greater when the leg is firmly grasped and the hand moved gently
upward so as to drive onward as much as possible any fluid which may
have accumulated in the limb, and, the grasp being then relaxed, the
same process should be repeated.

But, while the lymph is thus most readily removed by the pumping
action of intermittent pressure either of the hand without or of the
muscles alternately contracting and relaxing within, it seems to us
probable that this process may also be aided by steady, constant press-
ure from without. No doubt it is impossible for such a steady pressure
to take the place of the regular pumping action produced by the alter-
nate contraction and relaxation of the muscles when in action, yet it
will have a somewhat similar action, though to a very much less extent.
For at each beat of the heart, as Mosso shows, the entire limb is dis-
tended by the blood driven into the vessels, and during the pauses be-
tween the beats it again becomes smaller. Each pulse, therefore, by
distending the whole limb and each individual muscle, will press out a
little of the fluid contained in the fasciae in the same way as the con-
tractions of the muscles themselves ; and it seems to us probable that
it is the aid which is afforded to this process, by the gentle pressure ex-
erted on the outside of the legs by a seat which supports them along
their whole extent, that renders such a seat so peculiarly restful and
agreeable. For an easy-chair to be perfect, therefore, it ought not only
to provide for complete relaxation of the muscles, for flexion and con-
sequent laxity of the joints, but also for the easy return of blood and
lymph not merely by the posture of the limbs themselves, but by equa-
ble support and pressure against as great a surface of the limbs as pos-
sible.

Such are the theoretical demands, and it is interesting to notice how
they are all fulfilled by the afore-mentioned chair in the shape of a
straggling \A/, which the languor consequent upon a relaxing climate
has taught the natives of India to make, and which is known all over
the world. — Nature.

-♦♦♦-

LANGUAGE AND THE EMOTIONS.

By Dr. CHAELES WALDSTEIN.

THE following passage in De Quincey's " Walking Stewart " is
well worth noticing : " The character of a nation may be judged
of in this particular, by examining its idiomatic language. The French,
in whom the lower forms of passion are constantly bubbling up from
the shallow and superficial character of their feelings, have appropriated
all the phrases of passion to the service of trivial and ordinary life, and

LANGUAGE AND THE EMOTIONS. 191

hence they have no language of passion for the service of poetry, or of
occasions really demanding it, for it has been already enfeebled by con-
tinual association vv^ith cases of an unimpassioned order. But a char-
acter of deeper passion has a perpetual standard in itself, by which as
by an instinct it tries all cases, and rejects the language of passion as
disproportionate and ludicrous where it is not fully justified. ' Ah,
Heavens ! ' or ' O my God ! ' are exclamations with us so exclusively
reserved for cases of profound interest that, on hearing a woman even
(i. e., a person of the sex most easily excited) utter such words, we look
round expecting to see her child in some situation of danger. But in
France, ' Ciel ! ' and ' O mon Dieu ! ' are uttered by every woman if a
mouse does but run across the floor. The ignorant and the thoughtless,
however, will continue to class the English character under the phleg-
matic temperament, while the philosopher will perceive that it is the
exact polar antithesis to a phlegmatic character."

There is a great amount of truth in this passage. The too frequent
use of strong language may indurate and blunt onr feelings, as exces-
sive indulgence in alcoholic stimulants deadens the sensibility of our
palate. And there can hardly be a doubt but that the frequent use of
words disproportionate in their strength to the thoughts and feelings in
whose connection they are used has detracted from the original strength
of the French language. Naturally the strongest word ought to be
used to give expression to the strongest feeling. But strong words
have been so blunted through frequent use that they have lost their
sharp edge, and pass over our thick skin without even pricking our
sensibility ; while, at moments when we expect a heavy blow, the light
tickling of the socially polite feather may far more vividly stimulate our
sensibility. It may be said that this disparate use of words is the es-
sence of sarcasm, and that sarcasm is naturally strong. But the use of
sarcasm itself indicates an abnormal state of mind, and its frequent cul-
tivation during a certain epoch, or in a certain country, is ahiiost an in-
fallible symptom of disease in some quarter. When polite and other-
wise weak words are used in a powerful context, it is almost invariably
a sign of over-frequent and hackneyed use of strong words. There are
many instances of this in France. Among them let us examine one of
recent date and of great interest, because of its publicity and because
of its author — the most powerful writer of the age. Of all Victor Hu-
go's writings this letter is one of the most characteristic specimens ; not
because of the strong words of which it consists, but, on the contrary,
because of the colloquial, polite phraseology with which it begins, on
an occasion when one would rightly expect the words which are used
when — a stray dog has sprinkled a drop of mud on our newly-blacked
boots.

" MoxsiETJK : Vous faites une imprudence." (We expected an out-
burst of deeply-felt passion.). ..." Tout cela a ete dit. Je n'y insiste
pas. Je dedaigne toijy&u les choses inutiles.

192 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

" Vous insultez Yoltaire, et vous me faites I'honneur de m'injurier.
C'est votre affaire.

" Nous sommes, vous et moi, deux liommes quelconque. L'avenir
jug-era. Vous dites que je suis vieux, et vous me faites entendre que
vous etes jeune. «/e le crois.

" Le sens moral est encore si peu iorm6 chez vous, que vous me
faites ' une honte ' de ce qui est mon honneur.

" Vous pretendez, monsieur, me faire la legon. De quel droit ? Qui
etes-vous ? Aliens au fait. Le fait le voici : Qu'est-ce que c'est que
votre conscience, et qu'est-ce que c'est que la mienne ?

" Comparons-les.

" Un rapprochement suffira," etc'

And now he launches into a grand and dignified comparison, in which
the words used are quite adequate to the weight of the feelings expressed.

No doubt there are other elements which contribute their share to
make this letter so strong in style : as, for example, the great crescendo
of the whole, which gradually and with a continual bridling in shows
us the growing speed and bulk of his feelings, until they burst forth
in grandeur. Then, again, we feel that the person who wrote this is
on the one hand a man of the world, who can constrain passionate out-
bursts, and this prepares us for the subsequent great effect when his
passion is let loose ; for the man of the world is not the man of the
street, who uses weighty language for light occasions. On the other
hand, we hardly need fear, with Victor Hugo, that we may find the
" typical " man of the world who has lost all power of passion in habit-
ually repressing it ; and we are prepared to receive the full meaning of
deep words when they come.

However, the passage exemplifies what I mean. Instead of the
word " imprudence," we expect something meaning unworthy, immora-
action, or insolence. Instead of " un peu," we expect " profondement,"
etc. It will be seen that the whole beginning is in a tone of lightness
which we would almost expect to notice in two gentlemen conversing
in some public place quite simply, though without smiling. Still the
essence which underlies the form is intensely passionate.

The reaction against this abuse of strong language may lead, on
the one hand, to this disproportionate use of lighter words, or, on the

* " Sir, you are indiscreet. . . . That has already been said. I do not insist upon it.
I rather despise useless things.

" You insult Voltaire, and you do me the honor to revile me. That is your affair.

" You and I are two men — what manner of men the future will decide. You say I
am old, and you give mo to understand that you are young. / believe it.

" In you the moral sense is still so undeveloped that you pronounce that in me ' a
shame' which is my honor.

" You presume, sir, to read me a lecture. By what right ? Who are you ? Let us
come down to facts. Here is fact : What is your conscience, and what is mine ?

" Compare the two.

" A comparison will be enough," etc.

LANGUAGE AND THE EMOTIONS. 193

other hand, to a return to coarseness. In coarseness there is still an
element of strength ; the terse monosyllable Avhich Bayard gave as a
retort to the summons of surrender is an instance. Had he said,
" Apr^s vous, messieurs ! " it would almost have been equally strong.
The coarseness of some of the earlier English novelists, I tliink, was
chiefly a reaction against the French manners of former periods. In
my limited personal experience, I have found that many young men,
who had spent their days with the ideal of " good form " before them,
have taken a childlike delight in using vulgar language when free from

restraint.

Language is to a certain extent an indicator of national character.
But we must not be led to a one-sided statement of the case. There
is an abuse, as well in the neglect or disuse of words expressive of feel-
ing as in the too facile application of such words. And I believe that
there is a faulty implication in De Quincey's remark quoted above,
especially in its application to the English character — the implication,
namely, that, where there is no verbal demonstration of feeling, we may
infer a greater depth of feeling. In fact, one frequently hears this as-
serted, and the proverb, " Still waters run deep," has contributed to
confirm such a belief. But this must not be hastily accepted. I be-
lieve that it is the extreme and just opposition against the equally
faulty assertion that, where there is no demonstrative feeling, there is
no feeling whatever. Falsehood, luckily, is not the normal manner of
expression, notwithstanding the proposition that " la parole a etk (lonnk,
d rhomme pour cacher sa 2)ens(i'i ; " ' and therefore I am inclined to be-
lieve that, cceteris paribus, feeling is more likely to be present where we
can perceive the outward signs of its existence, than where there is no
sign whatever ; as I am more inclined to believe that preciseness and
firmness of character are more likely to be possessed by the man who
takes great pains with the neatness and cleanliness of his person and
attire than by one who does not. But there are action and reaction be-
tween the care of the person and the cast of the character ; e. g., clean-
liness may be the outward expression of certain traits of character, and
when practised may again produce, or strengthen, or prolong these
traits. All education rests upon the fact of this interaction. We see
what is the desirable cast of mind by its outward manifestations, and
try to ingraft such a mental attitude by habitual practice of these mani-
festations. It has been suggested to me in conversation that the fact
of the lower orders, especially in the country, wearing their " Sunday
best," and generally attending to the neatness of their appearance on
Sundays, has a reviving and improving effect upon them. The work-
day customs, with rough language and more or less brutal indulgences,
are cast away with the work-day clothes, and there is a strong feeling
that outbursts would be out of keeping Avith such fine dress, and that a
man must act up to his (genteel) appearance.

' Language was given to man to hide his thoughts.
VOI-. XIV. — 13

194 ^-^^ POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Words are not merely the indications of feeling, but they may also
react upon our feelings, modify them, in some cases even produce new
groups of emotions.

If the emotions are a desirable and essential element of the human
mind, and if language can thus react upon our emotional nature, the
expression of these desirable emotions ought not to be neglected, but
even positively cultivated. If we compare the German language with
the English, we are struck by the poverty of the latter as regards the
expression of emotions, and especially of those indicating contentment.

The wealth of the German language in expressions of feeling and
general moods admits of no doubt. In what language do we meet with
such a wealth of words expressing mental pain, from the most marked
shadings down to the finest, until pain gently overlaps into pleasure ?
Let us attempt an incomplete enumeration of such expressions, omit-
ting the numerous foreign words (such as Melancholic, Apathie, Misere,
Agonie, Tortur, etc.), which have been embodied in German idiom:
Verzweiflung, Marter, Pein, Jammer (Herzensjammer), Elend, Gram,
Kummer, Leid (Herzeleid), Herzensnoth, Herzensangst, Bangen, Trauer,
Harm, Betriibniss, Triibsal, Trilbsinn, Ungluck, Schmerz, Weh, Unlust,
Schmachten, Hinschmachten, Hiudarben, Vergehen, HinbrUten, Schwer-
mutb, Wehmuth, Sehnsucht, Sehnen, Driingen, etc. Besides these there
are numerous expressive compounds.

Now, it is true that the German, as well as every language, is richer
in words expressive of grief than of joy ; and this is a characteristic
common to all language, because it springs from psychological facts
common to all men. We do not so readily express our joy as our grief,
because, in the first place, grief is more dignified than joy. We do not
like to show our joy, because it is easily unbridled, and the boundless
is less comely than the bounded. Joy is elation, which implies opposi-
tion to the usual fetters and to form ; while grief is a contraction, which
implies a closer sinking into form, and seeks the plastic. The facial
expression of joy and grief corresponds to this — nay, perhaps was a
cause in determining our inclination or repugnance as regards the ex-
pression of these emotions. Joy manifests itself in an expansion of the
facial muscles, and avoids the eye of the sculptor who wishes to render
a beautiful harmonious display of features. The sinking and contrac-
tion of grief, on the other hand, bring out more markedly the fine
features and the modeling. Then, again, elation means motion and
unrest ; it points to restless difi'usion, while contraction must end, and
points to quiet and rest ; and therefore sculptors, to whom to a great
extent we owe the creation of the ideal of human beautj'^, rendered the
latter and shunned the former.

In the second place, sympathy, if sought by the happy, is less sure
to be obtained ; for man has the evil tendencj'^ to envy, and, though it
is easy for him to feel the delight of compassion and pity, he is more
grudging with his sympathy with others' joy. He has also the ten-

LANGUAGE AND THE EMOTIONS. 195

dency to egoism. Joy has less need of sj'mpathy : the happy are apt
to be self-suflScient. He can aiFord to share some of his pain with his
brethren ; but joy is a matter much in demand, and he cannot well
spare a particle of it — that, unless it can be increased by division, is
devoured alone.

And, finally, there are fewer expressions of joy, because contentment
is essentially a unit, is one, or at least is so in its perfect state, toward
which we strive. There is a homely German saying, " Satter wie satt
kann man nicht werden." Satiety is the one point, and all that is
above or below this point is not enjoyable. When we are contented
we have arrived at the normal state of existence ; there is no other way
of expressing it, for it is unique, and cannot be split into various shad-
ings. And we are generally driven to express different shadings of
joy by the physical concomitants of that feeling, as elation, thrilling,
etc. It is the one positive point.^

All these causes will evidently influence lyric poetry, the musically-
poetical expression of emotions. It is very difficult to say more than
that we are happy, while we may tell many things of our peculiar feel-
ings of misfortune. And we are not inclined to show our smiling face
without hope of having it reciprocated ; while we may fail to repro-
duce in our readers the sad mood which drove us to write a sad poem
and still not feel ridiculous. The measured tone of sad words and their
context is more adapted to musical rhythm than the rapid, short ex-
pressions of mirth. As in sculpture the woful expression is more
plastical than the joyful, so in poetry the sad strives toward harmonious
form more readily than the happy, and therefore we shall have fewer
poems expressive of joy than of sorrow.

But to return to the main topic : The greatest distinction between
the German and English language is perceived when we compare the
expressions of the bright side of emotions. Let us again attempt an
incomplete enumeration, omitting the numerous foreign words adopted
into the German language, as well as the compounds which express so
definitely certain fine shadings : Entzticken, Ergotzen, Tubel, Wonne,
Seligkeit, Glilckseligkeit, Freude, Freudigkeit, Gliick, Lust, Vergntignen,
Frohsinn, Frohmuth, Heiterkeit, Munterkeit, Scherzhaftigkeit, Ausge-

' I hold, in opposition to the pessimists, that this fact of the poverty of expressions
of pleasure as contrasted with the multiplicity of expressions of pain goes to prove the
positive nature of pleasure. The pessimists hold that pain is positive and pleasure nega-
tive, i. e., that pleasure is the absence of pain ; the intermissions in the long chain of
bodily and mental pains are to them pleasure. In logic the positive thing is definite and
one, while the negative is indefinite and multiple. So "A" would be positive, definite,
and would denote one thing ; while " Not A " is negative, indefinite, in fact, denotes any-
thing or all things in the universe excepting " A." Therefore, when the pessimist points
to the wealth of expression in pain, and to the poverty in expressions of pleasure, and
when he points to the difficulty of defining contentment, while pain comprises so many
states, he has not disproved the positive nature of pleasure. On the contrary, we find
that the simpler and more positive a fact is, the more difficult is it to define, until we are
limited to the mere mention of the fact.

196 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lassenheit, Launigkeit, Scbalkbaftigkeit, Wohlbehagen, Zufriedenheit,
Gemtithsruhe, etc.

Now, some of these words have been and are still in use in the Eng-
lish language ; but they have suffered strange usage. They have de-
generated to lightness, losing their original weight and dignity, or they
have been actually lowered and have received an evil connotation.
And we generally find that the Latinized words degenerate in the
direction of levity, while the Saxon words degenerate in the direction
of vulgarity.

As an instance of the first case, the English words corresponding
to Gltlck and Ungltick are Fortune and ^Misfortune. The dark side of
these ideas, Misfortune, has retained the strength and dignity corre-
sponding to the German. Fortune, however, does not correspond to
Gliick as Misfortune corresponds to Ungltick. It may be urged that
Fortune had already lost its deep meaning in the Latin, perhaps be-
cause of the fickle and worldly character which poets attributed to the
goddess Fortuna ; bvit the difference in the comparative depth of sig-
nification between Fortune and Misfortune illustrates what I mean.
Fortune has more and more turned toward a signification of luck or
chance, or to an expression of the most worldly accidents of happiness,
as wealth, etc. When the German says, " Ich bin gllicklich," he means
to indicate a state of high satisfaction ; but, when we say, " I am for- .
tunate," it conveys the impression of a transitory state of satisfaction ;
in fact, we are not necessarily happy or contented, the accent is not
thrown upon our own mood, but upon some outer fact, for we would
naturally ask, " Fortunate in what f "

As an instance of the second case, we find the word Lust still used
in English, but in what an altered meaning from the German ! In
German, Lust denotes a wide, high, and intense pleasure. It would
not be amiss in German to speak of the '" high Lust of the converse
with God in praN^er." ' The wide compass of this word is beautifully
illustrated in that untranslatable poem in Goethe's " West-oestlicher
Divan," in which Lust is brought in connection with rose-water which
cost the life of a whole world of flowers, and with the great historical
event of Tamerlane's (Timour) inroad which also cost the life of myriads

of existences ;

" Dir mit Wohlgerucli zn kosen,
Deine Freuden zu erhohn,
Knospend niilssen tausend Eoseil
Erst in Gluthen untergehn.

" Um ein Flaschehen zii besitzen
Das den Ruch auf ewig halt,
Sclilank wie deine Fingerspitzen
Da bedarf es einer Welt ;

1 We are reminded of the story of a German missionary in Australia, who, ignorant
of this degeneration of Saxon words, exhorted his congregation " to do the will of God
with craft and lustP

LANGUAGE AND THE EMOTIONS. 197

"Einer "Welt von Lebenstrieben,
Die, in ihrer Ftille Drang,
Alineten schon Bulbuls Lieben,
Seeleregenden Gesang.

" SoUte jene Qual uns qutilen,
Da sie unsre Lust vermebrt?
Hat nicht Myriaden Seelen
Timur's Herrschaf t aufgezehrt ? "

It is true, the word Lust in English is not exclusively used in the
lowest animal sense, but has been applied in a more intellectual con-
nection ; so we speak of the " lust of empire," the " lust of power," etc.
But there is undoubtedly always an admixture of evil and of disap-
proval, and some hidden analogy to animal desire. With Chaucer, still,
" luste " is used both as a noun and verb to signify wish, desire, pleas-
ure, enjoyment, without an evil connotation.' The causes of this de-
generation are numerous. But two seem to me most worthy of notice.
It is a well-known fact that, after the Norman Conquest, the language
of the conqueror, French, became the language of the aristocracy. This

' lu the " Canterbury Tales : " •

ClerJces Tale.

" His lustes were al lawe in his decree
For fortune as his Mend wolde him obeye.

Right as yon lust governe the matter.

• Wherefore I yow preye

Doth your plesaunce, I wol your lust obeye.

But on his lust present was al his thought
As for to hauke and hunt on every syde."

Squyeres Tale.

" But thus Ilete in lust and iolitee
This Cambyskam his lordes festejringe
Til wel ny the day began to springe.

The knotte why that every tale is told
If it be taried til the lust is cold.

If hir lust it for to were
Upon hir thombe."

Man of Laices Tale.

" Al his lust and al his busy care
Was for to love hir while his lyf may dure."

" To do hir lust " (will, pleasure) is very common, and originally lust was used in the
sense of list (the opposite sense, listless, still obtains), to do anything with pleasure, enjoy-
ment. The word lustij Chaucer also uses like the German lustig, meaning merry, jovial
(the lusty playne, the lusty somer, etc.). The noun lustiheed (joviality), corresponding
to the German Lustigkeit, is also used :

" Therefore I passe of al this lustiheed."

{Squyeres Tale.)

198 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

has manifested itself in the fact that the raw materials of food — cattle,
etc. — retained their Saxon names, such as calf, ox, sheep, etc., "while
the prepared meat is called by the French terms, beef, veal, mutton.
Words used by the aristocracy will retain a high and polite significa-
tion, while the corresponding words in Saxon used by the vulgar will
be spurned by the higher classes, and will receive a vulgar stamp.

Another striking instance of the vulgarizing influence of the Nor-
man Conquest upon the Saxon vernacular is afforded by the word
" buxom." In Anglo-Saxon heogan, bugan, and bocsuni, it still obtains
in the German, biegen, biegsam. In German it has retained its original
meaning of bendable, pliable, slender, etc. In a mental sense it meant
obedient (pliable), as " Under obedience to be and buxum to the lawe "
(" Piers Plowman," about A. D. 13G2). In Chaucer (" Clerkes Tale ") we
have it in its original physical meaning : " And the}'" with humble
entent buxumly — knelynge upon hir knees ful reverently." But in
English we find a strange alteration in its meaning as applied to the
human female figure. I may venture upon the following hypothesis
with regard to the history of this word : Originally, I believe, this
word was applied to the female figure to denote grace, litheness, slim-
ness. If I remember rightly, some modern poet uses the word in that
sense; the " buxom willow," or in some similar context. It would then
convey the attribute of pliability and grace which is given in the words
of Musset addressed to a lady : " Dans nos valses joyeuses je vous
sentait dans mes bras piier comme un roseau." So, I venture to say,
the word buxom was frequently applied to graceful, slender girls as a
mark of high admiration. After the Norman Conquest, I suppose this
to have been the action on the part of those who struck the key-note
of bon-ton. Consciously, or half-consciously, the following train of
thought seems to have pressed itself upon those of a markedly aristo-
cratic turn of mind : " The people is essentially a distinct body from us,
the aristocracy, especially the woman whom we admire so much. The
words of the people must denote the attributes of the people : the lady
is graceful, etc. ; the woman is healthy, stout, red-cheeked, etc. — the
lady dances, and we can feel her ' se plier comme lui roseau,' but not
the peasant-woman." Now, they found the word buxom indicating
beauty in the woman of the people, they therefore influenced language,
so that " buxom " conveyed the meaning of the beauty peculiar to the
woman of the people.

Such a process is not restricted to the historical development of
England ; but we meet with it repeatedly in history, whenever there is
this bloodless intellectual and Hnguistic warfare between classes. In
Germany, e. g., the purely German words were repressed in meaning in
proportion as the French gained footing as the language of the courts
and of polite society through Frederick the Great and the subsequent
Napoleonic influence. The Frau and Frauenzimmer assumed a lower
connotation the more the word " madame " was used in connection with

LANGUAGE AND THE EMOTIONS. 199

ladies. At present there is a strong reaction against the French idiom
in German. Politics and language are closely linked together in their
bearing upon one another, and loss in political prestige precedes repres-
sion of idiom.

During the time of the Revolution we might have expected a re-
vival of the old word, such as Lust ; but the Revolution was puritanic
in spirit, and so, instead of being reinstated it was still more repressed,
for Puritanism with its stern features was ever averse to expressions
of joyful emotions. Only such joy as partook of a lofty, aspiring char-
acter was cultivated, and the amiable and light-hearted was immediate-
ly stamped as frivolous. I think we must look to Puritanism for an
explanation of one curious fact in these expressions. We find many
expressions of exalted joy, of temporary pleasurable states (as a con-
tribution from the French), and of the lower pleasure which is to be
spurned. But we hardly find a powerful word which expresses a last-
ing state of pleasure, comprising as Avell the smallest satisfaction as
the loftiest happiness — T mean a word corresponding to the German
Gliickseligkeit and the Greek evdatfiovia. In the German word the
" gluck " comprises all real happiness of life, and the " seligkeit " the
most exalted spiritual happiness, and both combine to a lasting posi-
tive whole. A person would hardly be shocked were an Epicurean
(a follower of the philosophy of Epicurus, I mean) to tell him that
" Gliickseligkeit was the aim of life," for this would include- the high-
est moral satisfaction ; while many people would be shocked to hear
that " pleasure," or even " happiness, is the aim of life." This I attrib-
ute chiefly to the fact that the Puritan spirit drew a marked line be-
tween pleasures : there were exalted pleasures, and there were low
pleasures ; the first are desirable, the rest are to be repudiated, and
there is no middle way.

This spirit, of course, did not always reign supreme, and the natural
tendency is never totally to be extinguished, and we have some Saxon
expressions of light mirth. But to this spirit, and other natural and
historical causes, I attribute the fact that the dark side of expressions
has been developed in England out of proportion with the bright side.
So, for instance, we find that the German word Mitgefiihl is rendered by
the English " S3rmpathy." This word, which means a " feeling with,"
originally meant a " suffering with." But while the German can subdi-
vide this *' feeling with " into with-joy and with-sufifering (GOnnen, Mit-
freude, and Mitleid), the English have two expressions of with-suffer-
ing, compassion, and pity, but have no expression for with-joy. One
may mention that congratulation ' conveys this meaning ; but, though

' A curious instance in actual life which corroborates my statement was told me by a
friend. A naive and opeu-hearted lady was complaining to my friend of the difficulty
she experienced in expressing her gratification to a relative who had been ))lessed with a
baby. " You see," naively said this feeling person, " I can hardly express to her how
truly I experience her joy, how I the-very-opposite-of-grudge " (she needed the German

200 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

it originally meant a sharing of joy, it has degenerated into a far
lighter sphere, and has become a mere word of polite language, so
that the illiterate will hardly recognize the original meaning from its
present use. To use that French word to convey a deep feeling would
be like using the word " plaisir " in German to express deep joy. The
effect is similar to what it is when Heine, after his protestation of deep
feeling, bursts forth with the French " Madeline^ ich liebe sie ! "

Now, I am inclined to believe that where there is no expression for
such a feeling, and where we rarely find such feelings expressed in
other ways, such feelings are not so likely to exist, and, in truth, the
ideal of " good form," which cripples the nature of many young men at
a time when their emotions are still developing, goes to suppress the
expression of any such feelings. One may frequently hear young men
express their disapproval of others ; but I think that I am not making
a hasty statement when I maintain that one hears young men express-
ing their approval of others far less frequently in England than in Ger-
many, though it is not unmanly nor ungainly to express one's liking of
a third person, and one's joy with another, and this expression may have
good effects, as well upon the sociable character as upon the whole
emotional nature of men.'

But " good form " and other causes are contributing to impoverish
the English language in expressions of original emotions. We notice
the avidity with which pe'ople grasp at slang, because it has such origi-
nal life. Were it not for the wide-spread knowledge of Shakespeare, I
verily believe that our emotional language would be sorely crippled.
There are desirable emotions, and they can be cultivated. Language
is a means of cultivating them. There is a great difference in the
mental cast of those who know but one language and those who know
several, even if they have never left their home. The latter are pos-
sessed of broader vision and feeling, they have learned new feelings.
When we have learned the true meanings of the French word " chic "
and the German word " Gemiithlichkeit," we may have learned some-
thinsT the existence of which was unknown to us before. If we can
force people to express "Mitfreude" we may perhaps teach some how

"gonnen") "her the blessing. Had her child died, I should have had many expressions
at my service."

' Niebuhr, the great admirer of Englishmen, has remarked : " It is quite a national
trait not to dwell upon what concerns us personally, upon what fills our heart; and it is
as unnatural to them to hear me speak of the topics upon which I feel strongly as it
would be to do the same themselves. How I shall bless the time when this constraint
will be over, when in my own land I shall listen to the joys and sorrows of others, not as
a mere piece of news, but as a communication to which I have a right, and be as sure of
a welcome when I lay open my own heart ! I am far from attributing it to coldness in
these good people. It is altogether national, and it is the same with every one I have
known here, whatever their rank or calling, learning or sex." — (From "The Life and
Letters of B. G. Niebuhr, with Essays, etc.," by the Chevalier Bunsen, Professors Brandis
and Loebell ; translated by M. Winkworth.)

BIOLOGY AND " WOMAN'S RIGHT Sy 201

to feel it. If the language is poor in expressions it can be made richer.
Coining of words ought not to be condemned a priori. It is self-rega-
lating. If a person thinks something worth thinking, or feels some-
thing worth feeling, and cannot find an adequate expression, let him
coin a word — if possible, one which manifestly conveys his meaning.
He will have to be careful, for the public will reject what is useless,
ridicule a blunder, but perhaps adopt what is suitable.

BIOLOGY AND "WOMAN'S EIGHTS."

SINCE natural history was remodeled by Mr. Darwin it has been
found capable of throwing valuable lights, previously little antici-
pated, upon topics quite unconnected with the origin and attributes of
zoological or botanical species. Of this solidarity of the sciences — one
supplying another with methods of inquiry — a striking instance is
afforded by a recent work,* in which the doctrine of natural selection
is successfully utilized in the study of certain political subjects. That
further applications more or less analogous are still possible will scarce-
ly be doubted. There is in particular one question now agitating
human society which seems particularly to require such treatment.
Every one knows that of late years a movement has sprung up to secure
for women, as contradistinguished from men, certain rights, liberties,
and powers, of which it is contended they have been arbitrarily and
wrongfully deprived. To define this movement, and to formulate dis-
tinctly the demands of its supporters, is a scarcely possible task. Inno-
vators and agitators of all kinds enjoy the advantage that they cannot
be tied down to any fixed set of propositions by which and by whose
logical consequences they are prepared to stand or fall. On the con-
trary, if one ground is found untenable, another is instantly taken up ;
what satisfies one champion of the cause is rejected by another ; and
what to-day is accepted as final — as in the case of the anti-vivisection
movement — is to-morrow proclaimed a mere installment, and made the
basis of fresh demands.

Perhaps we may best describe the movement as an attempt to oblit-
erate all — save the purely structural — distinctions between man and
woman, and to establish between them a complete identity of duties
and functions in place of that separation which has more or less hither-
to always existed. That certain speakers and writers, not content with
mere identification, go on to inversion, and would assign to men the
particular tasks now allotted to women, though a significant fact, need
not detain our attention.

It is of no use laughing at this amtation as the outcome of a mere

1 u

Physics and Politics," by Walter Bagehot. (" International Scientific Series.")

202 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

" crotchet." In certain states of the moral atmosphere crotchets spread
just as do epidemics — which they closely resemble — in certain condi-
tions of the physical atmosphere and other surroundings of man. Who
would attempt to deal with the cholera or the small-pox by ridicule,
how pungent and incisive soever ?

We purpose, therefore, to examine this movement in the light of
the principles of natural selection, of differentiation, and specializa-
tion, and to inquire whether the relations of the sexes in the human
species and the distribution of their respective functions are or are not
in genera] harmony with what is observed in that portion of the animal
kingdom which lies nearest to man — to wit, in the Mammalia. With
the origin and historj' of the agitation, with the hopes and motives of
its supporters, and with the ethical, sentimental, economical, and politi-
cal arguments used on either side we have no direct concern.

Even a very superficial and popular survey of the class Mammalia
will satisfy us that the structural differences between the males and
the females of each species are by no means confined to the reproduc-
tive organs. The male ruminant, whale, bat, elephant, rodent, carni-
vore, or ape, is on the average a larger and heavier animal than his
mate. The tiger, for instance, exceeds the tigress in size by a propor-
tion of from ten to twenty per cent. In few, if any, species is the
superior stature of the male more striking than in the one which ap-
proaches man most nearly in its physical development — the gorilla.

But the mere difference in size is not all ; the female is scarcely in
any normal case a mere miniature copy of the male. Her proportions
differ; the head and the thorax are relatively smaller, the pelvis broad-
er, the bones slighter, and the muscles less powerful. The male in
many cases possesses offensive weapons which in the female are want-
ing. In illustration we need only refer to the tusks of the elephant
and the boar, and the horns of manj^ species of deer. On the contrary,
there is no instance of a female mammal possessing any weapon which
is not also found, to at least an equal degree, in the male.

Further, the superior size of the head in the male is not merely
due to the more massive osseous growth needful for the support of
tusks, horns, etc., but to a proportionately larger development of brain.
Thus, according to the recent investigations of M. le Bon,' "taking the
mean weight of seventeen brains of human males, of 154 to 164 centi-
metres in height, and comparing them with the brains of seventeen
women of the same stature, we find between the two a difference of
172 grammes (nearly six ounces) in favor of the male."

Summing up these facts, commonplace but not the less important,
we see that in the whole mammalian class, man included, the males are
distinguished from the females, not merely by larger size, but by supe-
rior cerebral and thoracic development, and by the more general posses-
sion of offensive weapons. On the other hand, trite as the remark may

' Compten-Rendus, Ixxxvii., No. 2, p. 80.

BIOLOGY AND " WOMAN'S RIGHTS:' 203

seem, the organs for the nutrition of tiie young are exclusively confined
to the female. Are we to suppose that these sexual differences are de-
void of meaning, merely accidental, or artificial in their origin ?

We must next inquire to what functional distinctions these struct-
ural differences correspond, and what is their signification ? It is gen-
erally admitted that among animals of one and the same species the
larger will be found to be the stronger, and generally speaking physi-
cally the superior. Exceptions doubtless occur, but, if we were to take
one hundred men in normal health whose "fighting-weight" ranged
from eleven to twelve stone each, and compare them with another hun-
dred averacrincr a stone less, we should find the former set able to lift
greater weights, strike harder blows, and in every way excel the second
lot in athletic performances.

Again, it is found that the size of the chest, and consequent volume
of the lungs, affords a very good standard by which the general vigor,
the vital energy, of either man or beast, may be gauged. The more a
man, free from corpulence, measures round the chest, the better are his
stamina, and the greater his power to support fatigues and hardships.
Of this fact the military and the sporting world are perfectly aware,
and never fail to take it into account in estimating the eligibility of a
recruit or the probable performances of an athlete.

Having seen, then, that male animals are not merely actually larger
than their respective females, but surpass them proportionally in the
size of the thorax, we naturally expect the former to be decidedly the
stronger, gifted with a more intense and exuberant vitality. Nor are
our expectations disappointed. The bodily strength of a cow is trifling
indeed compared with that of a bull of the same breed. In races a filly
is very frequently — merely as such — allowed to carry less weight than
a horse. A lady gorilla would be in evil case indeed if her husband
did not treat her with a gentleness and kindness which many of our
own species would do well to imitate. And as to mankind — is not,
perhaps, the most legitimate source of the very movement we are criti-
cising an attempt to secure women against the superior strength of
men ? Yet at a meeting at Manchester a male agitator actually sought
to deny the superior physical power of man, because it would be easy
to find a fish-wife stronger than a cotton-weaver. The argument, being
intensely illogical, was frantically applauded.

Persons are not, however, wanting who — while admitting the gen-
eral inferiority of women to men in physical strength — contend that
this weakness is the result of continued and systematic repression.
Woman, they say, has been forcibly debarred from invigorating pur-
suits, and comparative feebleness is the natural result. We would ask
such advocates whether this systematic repression has been also carried
out among the lower mammals, and, if not, what is the origin of the
weakness of the female sex in their case, which is at least as well
marked as among mankind? Has the "subjugation" of woman had

204 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

its parallel in the "subjugation" of the cow, the mare, the ewe, the
lioness ?

That the women of the middle class in all civilized countries, and of
the higher in some, would be much healthier and stronger if they took
more exercise in the open air and swallowed less tea, we admit. But
in that case we contend that their increased vigor would descend not
to their daughters exclusively or specially, but to all their children.

Further, in some countries and among certain classes, a great
amount of physical labor falls to the lot of the women, without their
being thereby rendered equal in strength to the men. Among the
North American aborigines the squaw has the monopoly of hard Avork,
while her husband — save when on the chase or on the war-path — in-
dulges in idleness. Yet he runs no risk on that account of being sur-
passed in strength by his wife, and ultimately finding himself in con-
sequence "subjugated."

No less is the superior cerebral development of the male sex in the
human species, to which we have already referred as an indisputable
fact, devoid of functional importance. It has, indeed, been contended
that the difference in weight between the brain of the two sexes is a
mere " survival " from some lower state of civilization, or of existence
which we may expect to see ultimately disappear. Such hopes, if they
anywhere exist, must be abandoned in view of the results of M, le Bon,
already quoted. This biologist finds that "the difference between the
respective weight of the brain in man and woman constantly goes on
increasing as we rise in the scale of civilization, so that as regards the
mass of the brain, and consequently in intelligence, woman becomes
more and more difi"erentiated from man. The difference which exists
between the mean of the crania of contemporary Parisian men and that
of contemporary Parisian women is almost double the difference which
existed in ancient Egypt.

Taking hold of this simple fact, that the brain in the male is not
merely larger, but increasingly larger, than in the female, we need not
long search for its meaning. As the same writer to whom we have
referred declares, " On examining series of crania sufficiently numerous
we find that in the human species the largest brains belong to the races
highest endowed intellectually, and in each race to its most intelligent
members." Just, therefore, as higher civilization is heralded, or at least
evidenced, by increasing bulk of brain ; just as the most intelligent and
the dominant races surpass their rivals in cranial capacity ; and just as
in those races the leaders, whether in the sphere of thought or of action,
are eminently large-brained — so we must naturally expect that man,
surpassing woman in volume of brain, must surpass her in at least a
proportionate degree in intellectual power. We are sorry to be com-
pelled here to own that while we know that in most, if not all, mam-
malian species the brain of the male exceeds in size that of the female,
we have no observations as to any corresponding difference in mental

BIOLOGY AND " WOMAN'S RIGHT Sr 205

power. That such difference, on careful examination, Will be found to
exist is highly probable; but we must likewise expect that it will be
found less distinctly marked the lower the rank of the species.

To return : the intellectual superiority thus claimed for the male
sex, in virtue of a higher cerebral development, is fully manifested in
the history of the various arts and sciences. In every department the
first, the leading, minds have belonged to the male sex. Homer, Shake-
speare, Phidias, Beethoven, no less than Newton, Liebig, and Darwin,
are men.

In reply to this historical confirmation of what biology foretells, the
advocates of the movement adduce three arguments, all, in our opinion,
singularly inconclusive.

Admitting the superiority of the male brain in bulk and weight to
that of the female, they maintain the existence of a qualitative differ-
ence which renders the two incommensurable. This hypothesis, how-
ever, is a pure assumption. "We should have an equal right to main-
tain that the brains of different races of men, especially as existing in
ages widely remote from each other, were incapable of mutual compari-
son. Or, in the same spirit, it might even be urged that the smaller
size of the muscles in woman was no proof of any inferiority in physi-
cal strength.

Secondly, it is contended by those who seek to identify the duties,
functions, and spheres of action of the two sexes, that many women
have distinguished themselves in the arts and sciences. Admitting to
the full this fact, we can only place it on a level with the kindred phe-
nomenon that not a few women have, in disguise, entered the army or
navy, and have acquitted themselves as creditably as their male com-
rades ; or that others have worked long and undetected as excavators,
in the construction of railways, etc. The savarde — the woman of
science — like the female athlete, is simply an anomaly, an exceptional
being, holding a position more or less intermediate between the two
sexes. In the one case the brain, as in the other the muscular system,
has undergone an abnormal development. That such cases should oc-
cur need no more surprise us than does the converse phenomenon, the
existence of womanish man. We meet with subjects, otherwise of the
male sex, in whom the beard is scanty or wanting, the limbs slight and
rounded, the voice high, the chest narrow, and the pelvis broad, or who,
if they do not structurally approximate to the female sex, betray a
preference for feminine occupations, which wins for them such epithets
as "molly-cots," "cot-queans," etc. At the risk of somewhat antici-
pating ourselves we cannot suppress the remark that no one demands
especial laws and institutions for the benefit of such womanish men,
or proposes their exemption from the customary, duties of the male sex,
how burdensome soever these may be felt.

The third and last plea put forward to explain, if possible, the cere-
bral inferiority of woman and her concomitant intellectual inferiority.

2o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is an adaptation of the one already proposed to account for her smaller
physical strength. It is gravely asserted that mental activity in art or
science has been systematically repressed among women, and that in
consequence their cerebral development has been injuriously interfered
with. To this contention it would be a sufficient reply were we to
simplv point to the fact already mentioned, that the relative inferi-
ority in the size of the brain of women, instead of diminishing as their
social status has improved, has, on the contrary, been increasing. We
may hence fairly argue that it exists not in virtue of any artificial inter-
ference, but of a law of Nature. We can, however, adduce other con-
siderations. In the pursuit of the fine arts, woman, instead of being
checked and hindered, whether by law or by social conventions, has
been encouraged. An acquaintance with music has been literally
forced upon every girl of the upper and middle classes. Yet, leaving
composers out of the question, how many of the million female per-
formers on the piano-forte, now to be found in Europe and America,
can take rank with Liszt and Thalberg ? In the highest development
of literature, poetry, sex has been no obstacle to the recognition of
merit. Yet neither Sappho in the past nor Mrs. Hemans and Mrs.
Browning in our own day can be placed even in the same class with
the leading poets of Greece, England, and Germany.

Women have certainly till of late met with few direct facilities for
the pursuit of science. But, in England at least, neither have men.
Our great scientific discoverers, tintil quite recent days, have been sub-
stantially self-taught, and even if in their youth they enjoyed a university
education their subsequent researches, though ^:>os^ Jioc (after this), have
assuredly not been propter hoc (on account of this). Scientific books
and apparatus have been as accessible to one sex as to the other ; and
these have generally been the only opportunities that our discoverers
have had at their command. How to use such appliances they had to
discover for themselves. We deny, therefore, that the exclusion of
young women from universities, in ichic/i modern sciences were not
taught, can have hindered them from entering upon a scientific career.
Equally do we deny that public opinion forbade for them study and
research. Had Miss Herschel been a man, her astronomical discoveries
could not have been more highly or more deservedly appreciated. Not
a dog barked at her for preferring determining the orbits of comets to
ordinary feminine avocations. In like manner, if any woman had pos-
sessed the necessary faculties and turn of mind, there was nothing in
the way of public prejudices or established customs to prevent her
from having anticipated Dalton in discovering the laws of definite
chemical combination. Nor, if thus discovered, would the "atomic
theory " have met with a less favorable reception. We then entirely
deny the existence of any supposed conspiracy to repress scientific tal-
ent in the female sex, and we hold that the three arguments adduced to
explain its comparative rarity among women are utterly inconclusive.

BIOLOGY AND " WOMAN'S RIGHTS:' 207

A further distinction between the sexes, common to mankind and
to all the mammalian class, must be sought in the moral faculties.
Take what species we like we find the males bolder, more pugnacious
and quarrelsome, more adventurous and restless, and less tractable and
docile. The females, on the other hand, save in protection of their
young from real or supposed danger, are mild, gentle, and inoffensive.
Of this no more indisputable instance could be found than the case of
domestic cattle, the cow — with the exception of certain " strong-mind-
ed " individuals — being perfectly harmless, while the bull, Avhen above
four years old, is one of the most dangerous animals known, attacking
and killing human beings, not for food, like the lion or the tiger, but out
of pure "superfluity of naughtiness." Very similar is the distinction
between the charactar of the sexes among the Quadrumana. No ani-
mal is more wantonly and gratuitously mischievous than an adult male
baboon, and we are unable to find an instance of one having been
tamed so far that he could be allowed his liberty. The females, on the
other hand, are capable of domestication. Were there any necessity to
multiply instances a fair-sized volume might be filled with accounts of
the intracftability of male mammalia of different species, as contrasted
with the mildness and docility of their females, while in no animal is
the case reversed. That the sexual distinction of character in our own
species is precisely analogous in its nature will, we trust, be admitted
without argument.

We find, therefore, summing up the foregoing facts, that through-
out the mammalian community the males are larger and heavier than
the females, whom they, moreover, especially exceed in thoracic and
cerebral development; that they are consequently stronger, more in-
tensely animated, and in disposition bolder and fiercer. The very same
difi'erences are found in average men as compared with average women,
with the additional peculiarity that here the superior size of brain ex-
presses itself in higher intellectual power.

It would be ridiculous to suppose that all these diversities, struct-
ural and functional, are objectless, and do not imply a corresponding
diversity of duties. This accordinglj' we find to be the case : The
male, at least in all species which form unions of any degree of perma-
nence— whether monogamous or polygamous — defends and protects the
female and her young ones. Thus, if a herd of elephants is menaced,
the most powerful tuskers take their station on the side where danger
appears, while the females and the young are placed as far as possible
out of harm's way. If bisons are attacked by wolves, the bulls form
a circle inclosing the cows and calves, A similar order is adopted by
wild-horses. A gorilla will encounter any danger in defense of his
mate, and even among baboons the old males will face an approaching
enemy while the weaker members of the troop make good their escape.
A lion has been seen in the same manner covering the retreat of his
lioness and her cubs.

2o8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Other examples might be given were it at all needful, but those
already stated are surely sufficient to establish the principle. Among
herbivorous and omnivorous species, where food is plentiful, there is
no occasion for the male to take upon him the duties of provider, but
among the Carnivora he frequently supports as well as defends his
family. The lion is in this respect a well-known instance.

We find, therefore, that throughout the class Mammalia the respec-
tive tasks of the two sexes are precisely such as we find in our own
species : the male is the defender and provider, wherever such defense
and provision are necessary ; the female is the nurse. The man who
brings home to his wife his weekly earnings, his professional fees, or
his share of the profits of a business, merely repeats on a higher scale
the action of the lion who carries a deer or an antelope to his den.
Each sex fulfills the tasks for which it is especially adapted by Nature,
and anj^thing like " subjugation " is utterly out of the question. Were
the duties of the two sexes confounded together, or, still more, were
they inverted — the female, for instance, going forth to face danger or
to hunt for prey, while the male was left to nurse the young — the posi-
tion of the species in the great and constant struggle for»existence
would be very decidedly altered for the worse. We must conclude,
therefore, that the attempt to alter the present relations of the sexes is
not a rebellion against some arbitrary law instituted by a despot or a
majority — not an attempt to break the yoke of a mere convention ; it
is a struggle against Nature ; a war undertaken to reverse the very
conditions under which not man alone, but all mammalian species have
reached their present development. Sentimental speakers and writers
have commented on the well-known fact that even a very young boy
will, to his utmost ability, defend his sister or female playmate, and
have expressed a hope that this habit — the result of early training —
would wear out, the female no longer needing and the male no longer
offering protection. Alas ! is the very same habit in the ape, the lion,
or the bison, the result of a mistaken training, or of an old-world con-
vention, to be laid aside in these enlightened days ? What would be
the position of a family of young lions if both their parents went forth
to hunt ? Yet very similar will be that of children if their mother, as
well as their father, goes out to the daily toils of a profession, leaving
them perhaps to themselves — perhaps to the care of ignorant and un-
principled hirelings. The results of mothers withdrawn from domestic
duties, and spending their days in industrial pursuits, have been suf-
ficiently exemplified in our manufacturing towns. Here, in the very
highest interests of the race, it has been found necessary to check and
limit female labor, which ought never to have been introduced. Had
this precaution been taken, a man would have been able to earn
as much as he and his wife jointly have been able to realize under
the factory system. But what reason have we to expect that the
introduction of female labor into professional spheres will prove a

BIOLOGY AND " WOMAN'S BIGHTS^ 209

greater boon either to the aspirants themselves or to the nation than
it has been in the factory and the workshop ? A friend, of original
habits of thought, points out ' that upon man alone was laid the pen-
alty of labor as upon woman the sorrow of child-bearing. This is in
fact the very same lesson, clothed in theological language, which we
learn from biology. Among the lower animals, who, as compared
with man, may be called the proletariate " of creation, both sexes in-
deed seem merely or mainly to exist in order to perpetuate their spe-
cies. Still, even here, the female is more exclusively constructed for,
and more totally absorbed in, the task of reproduction than the male.
The share of the latter in this function is, strictly speaking, momentary,
while dm-ing the stage of maturity the energies of the normal female
are more or less completely devoted to the nurture, intra- and extra-
uterine, of her offspring. Even when she never becomes a mother the
generative system exercises a modifying influence upon her whole career.
This consideration throws a strong light u^jon the ground taken by cer-
tain of the more " advanced " female advocates of the movement. The
femnie libre (free woman) of the new social order may, indeed, es-
cape the charge of neglecting her family and her household by con-
tending that it is " not her vocation to become a wife and a mother."
Why then, we ask, is she constituted a woman at all ? Merely that she
should become a sort of second-rate man ? We have ali'eady declared,
and we repeat, that we wish a free career for every talent. If an ab-
normal woman possesses a man's muscular strength and adaptation for
toil, we would not, either by law or by social influences, seek to debar
her from working at the oar, or the forge, or even from wielding the
policeman's truncheon or the soldier's rifle. But we would not calculate
on such anomalies ; we would not legislate for their special protection,
or seek to increase their number. In a manner perfectly analogous, if
a woman possesses the taste and the power for scientific research usu-
ally confined to men — and far from common even among them — we
would not wish to restrain her from the cultivation of her j^eculiar fac-
ulties ; but we would not foster the growth of such a class of females.
We would not seek to entice women into the observatorv, the labora-
tory, or, above all, into the dissecting-room, nor erect colleges for the
training of savantes, any more than we would organize female regiments
and open institutions where muscular young ladies might perfect them-
selves in the management of heavy artillery.

It is generally — too generally — assumed that every novelty, every
change from what has hitherto been customary and recognized, com-
mends itself, on the mere ground of its novelty, to men of science, as,
indeed, to all unfettered inquirers, and will be resisted merely by those

* Genesis iii. 16, 1*7.

* As applied to the human species we consider this term eminently foolish. The
man who benefits his race in no other way will probably injure it by leaving posterity
like himself.

VOL. XIT. — 14

210 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

whose guiding pi-inciple is an unreasoning attachment to what is estab-
lished. Never, perhaps, was it shown more clearly than with reference
to the present question that innovation may be retrograde — that a pro-
posed change, if carried out, may involve a return to a lower stage of
development. What is the very essence of all advance to a higher
stage, of being, save differentiation ? We see what was at first homo-
geneous, uniform in structure, become resolved into distinct tissues and
members. We see functions which, in some rudimentary state, were
jointly exercised by the whole body of an animal, gradually allotted out
to special organs, and, during and in consequence of this very special-
ization, acquiring a far higher degree of perfection than they heretofore
possessed. Look at the first rudimentary state — germ, seed, or ovum —
of the plant or animal, and compare it with the mature organism to
which it ultimately gives rise. What was one has become manifold ;
what was simple is now highly complex. The globule of albuminoid
matter has developed into distinct members — sense-apparatus, organs
respiratory, digestive, circulatory, locomotive, etc. — each of which has
a separate task to fulfill, and is distinctly organized for that very pur-
pose. It is no departure from our subject to remark that, though in
the organic body one organ may, under certain circumstances, undertake
the duties of another, such vicarious action involves grave peril to the
organ concerned, and to the entire animal. Perhaps the world may yet
find that the analogy between the individual and mankind holds good
in this respect, and that a social congestion may follow from the move-
ment we are examining.

To return : the increase of size which distinguishes the butterfly
from the Qg^^ or the oak from the acorn, is a trifling feature compared
with the accompanying diff'erentiation— chemical, morphological, and
functional — which has taken place.

If we pass from a consideration of the individual plant or animal to
a survey of the entire organic realms, we find, as we advance from the
humblest and meanest beings to the highest, merely a repetition of the
same great fact. At the one extremity of the scale — if this expression
may still be used — we find beings whose senses, such as they are, must
be exercised by the whole external surface of the body, those more
special functions which we know as sight, hearing, etc., being still
identical with feeling. No distinct nervous system, still less definite
nerve-centres, can be traced. Nor are there any organs specially de-
voted to the processes of respiration, circulation, digestion, etc. A
common internal cavity takes the place, and, in a crude way, fulfills the
duties of all these parts. Externally the same uniformity prevails ;
there are no limbs, no members exclusively constructed for locomotion
in any of its modes, or for prehension. The animal moves by elongating
and contracting its whole body, or by rolling over. In many of the
lower forms of animal life the sexes are not separated, the functions of
the male and the female being exercised by one and the same individual.

BIOLOGY AND « WOMAN'S RIGHTS:' 211

It is a fact, long familiar to the world, that the polyp may be cut into
without injury, each part soon becoming a complete animal.

To such simplicity of structure the completest contrast is afforded
by the higher animals. Throughout their bodies we find a " division
of labor," each function having its organ and each organ its distinct
function. To trace how this differentiation is carried out would be
wearisome, and, being admitted, is fortunately needless.

It may be useful, however, to call to mind the fact that animals
which, when mature, are broadly and easily distinguished from each
other, are more and more alike the earlier the stage of growth at which
we institute a comparison. The differences between a baby chimpanzee
and a human infant are much slighter than those between the adults
of the respective species. If we extend our researches to the em-
bryonic state we find that the rudimentary man can scarcely be dis-
tinguished from many of the other vertebrates. It is only, as Prof.
Huxley points out, in the later stages of prenatal growth that the
human foetus differs from that of an ape. In the former the convolutions
of the brain, according to Prof. Bischoff, reach about the same stage of
development as in an adult baboon. The great toe, in man, is con-
sidered by Prof. Owen the most characteristic feature of the human
skeleton ; but, in an embryo about an inch in length. Prof. "Wyman
found this member not lying parallel with the other toes, but project-
ing out from the side of the foot as it does permanently in the so-called
Quadrumana in their mature condition. Thus plainly does it appear
that differentiation is the way to perfection, each animal as it ap-
proaches maturity diverging more and more from other forms, from
which, in its earlier stages, it was scarcely distinguishable.

Yet again, we may turn from a survey of the growth of the indi-
vidual, and from a comparison of the highest and lowest forms of con-
temporary organic life, to the consideration of the successive phases of
being that have peopled our earth. Here, too, we find the same great
law prevail. In the remote past we find what are called " generalized
forms" — animals which seem to have combined in themselves the
rough outlines of what we now find developed into perfectly distinct
beings.

Suppose it were now proposed as an improvement in the structure
of man, or of any other mammalian species, that the functions now exer-
cised by two distinct organs — such as, e. g., the eye and the ear, or the
nerves of motion and of sensation — should be " lumped " together, com-
mitted to one only set of organs ; would such a change, if we for the
moment* suppose it practicable, be an advance or a retreat ? "Would it
raise or lower the species in the scale of existence ? It might seem a
convenience if, instead of seeing with our eyes alone, we could also see
and hear with our ears ; but would either the seeing or the hearing be
done as well as now, Avhen each is the sole function of an express
organ ? On the principles of the old natural historj', as well as of the

212 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

new, we may safely reply 'in the negative. The change we have sup-
posed is fortunately incajoable of being effected, otherwise the attempt
would doubtless be made in the name of " progress."

But we may follow the principle of differentiation, and trace its
workings over the boundaries of biology into those of sociology, if such
a science can be said to exist. Where differences of structure can no
longer be traced we still find differences of function. In man we find
no variation in the number and position of bodily organs ; yet identical
organs in different individuals are trained to special tasks which to other
men would be im2:)ossible, and which might seem to necessitate a struct-
ural difference. We come, that is to say, upon the division of labor,
which is one of the most characteristic and essential features of civiliza-
tion. We have seen that in the lowest forms of animal life the entire
body seemed to subserve every vital process ; just so in the lowest stages
of human society, every individual is at once warrior, hunter, builder,
maker of arms and other utensils, and — in as far as agriculture is prac-
tised at all — tiller of the soil. Every man is perforce, in the words of
the adage, " Jack of all trades," with the inevitable consequence that
he is " master of none." In a civilized nation, just as in the higher
animals, all this is reversed. Every function has its special organ, or,
in other words, every task is committed to a separate man or body of
men. In all this we can trace out nothing that speaks of arbitrary
interference or compulsion. In the animal or human body each function
is committed to organs fitted for that function. The stomach does not
protest because it is not the seat of respiration, nor does the heart crave
to undertake the task of digestion, either instead of or along with
its own duties. In human society — complain as we may about "square
pegs " being placed in " round holes " — the different tasks are in the
main assigned to the men most competent for their performance. In a
savage tribe the strongest and bravest naturally leads in war ; the man
keenest of eye and ear becomes the scout, either as regards hostile
tribes or beasts of the chase. The wisest and most eloquent — attri-
butes which, if necessarily connected in primitive times, are now so no
longer — took the foremost place in council. The man of greatest man-
ual dexterity would be chief bow-maker to the tribe. The process in
operation was, in fact, natural selection. The man who undertook a
task for Avhich he was unfitted, or less fitted than others, was gradually
eliminated, as far as that particular task was concerned. In proportion
as new wants sprung up and new means of gratifying them were de-
vised, social functions were multiplied, and the division of labor be-
came more minute. Yet even in the very rudest state, as far at least
as anthropologists have been able to trace, there never was a time
when the duties of all persons were absolutely identical. To men and
to women different duties were assigned on the same principle of nat-
ural selection. Changes have, indeed, taken place in the distribution
of the tasks respectively allotted to the two sexes. But these changes,

BIOLOGY AND " WOMAN'S RIGHTS:' 213

it is important to note, till the " woman's-riglits' movement" sprung up,
have all been in one dLrection — the direction of increasing differentia-
tion. The distinction between men's work and women's work has been
increased, not diminished. The barbarian and the semi-civilized nation
allowed women to carry heavy burdens, to tug at the oar, to wield the
spade, the hoe, the mattock, in the fields, and even to labor in mines.
In our higher civilization such tasks are limited to man, and, as we
have already remarked, to abnormal " mannish " women. The move-
ment we are considering, in so far as it aims at breaking down the
natural barriers between the duties of the two sexes, is palpably retro-
grade. If advancement toward perfection is reached by differentiation,
anti-differentiation — if we may use the expression — whether structural
or functional, must be a return to a lower condition. If the first and
plainest step in the division of labor is to be abandoned, how can others
be maintained ?

It has been already pointed out in the Quarterly Journal of Sci-
ence that among vertebrate animals the social unit of which nations are
put together is the family, whether that be monogamous or polygamous.
A community of rooks is made up of an assemblage of married coujdIcs.
A tribe of baboons consists of a number of males, each one having his
wives and offspring. Now the*" woman's-rights' movement " not merely
runs counter to Nature in the respects we have already shown, but it is
open to the charge of seeking to destroy family life and to constitute
society of individuals — of atoms instead of molecules. In so doing it
tends toward the condition of things prevalent in certain insect-com-
munities. But there the mass of the nation, and especially its working
and fighting members, is composed of what are commonly called neuters.
Of such an arrangement no trace prevails among vertebrate animals, and
we do not therefore see how their example can afford us any practical
precedent.

We have, therefore, in fine, full ground for maintaining that the
" woman's-rights' movement " is an attempt to rear, by a process of
" unnatural selection," a race of monstrosities — hostile alike to men, to
normal women, to human society, and to the future dev^elopment of our
race. We know that the modern " honorary secretary " is always
ready to exclaim, " Let heaven and earth perish, so my crotchet may be
realized ! " But we would bid him ask himself whether the end is worth
the means. — Quarterly Journal of Science.

214 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE.*

By GEOEGE J. EOMANES.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE is a subject which has always been of
considerable interest to philosophical minds ; but, as most of you
are probably aware, the interest attaching to this subject has of late
years been greatly increased by the significance which it has acquired
in relation to the theory of descent. The study of animal intelligence
being thus, without question, fraught with high importance to the
science of our time, in adducing before this illustrious assembly some
of the results which that study has yielded, I shall endeavor to treat
them in a manner purely scientific. I shall try, as much as possible, to
avoid mere anecdote, except in so far as it is desirable that I should
put you in possession of a few typical facts to illustrate the various
principles which I shall have occasion to expound. I shall seek to
render apparent the more important of the issues which the subject,
as a whole, involves, as well as the considerations by which alone these
issues can be legitimately settled. I shall attempt to state my own
views with the utmost candor ; and if I shall appear to ignore any ar-
guments opiDOsed to the conclusions at which I shall arrive, it will only
be because I believe those arguments to admit of easy refutation. And,
in order that my exposition may be suflSciently comprehensive, I shall
endeavor to point out the relations that subsist between the intelligence
of animals and the intelligence of man. The aim and scope of the pres-
ent lecture will therefore be to discuss, as fully as time permits, the
facts and the principles of Comparative Psychology.

As human intelligence is the only order of intelligence with which
we are directly acquainted, and as it is, moreover, the highest order of
intelligence known to science, we may most conveniently adopt it as
our standard of comparison. I shall therefore begin by very briefly
detailing those principles of human psychology which we shall after-
ward find to be of the most essential importance in their bearings on
the subject which I have undertaken to discuss.

When I allow my eyes to travel over this vast assembly, my mind
receives, through their instrumentality, a countless number of impres-
sions. So far as these impressions enter into the general stream of
my consciousness, they constitiite what are called perceptions. Sup-
pose, now, that I were to close my eyes, and to fix my attention on
the memory of some particular perception which I had just experienced
— say the memory of some particular face. This mental image of a
l^revious perception would be what is called an idea. Lastly, suppose
that I w^ere to analyze a number of the faces which I had perceived, I

' An evening lecture delivered before the British Association at Dublin, August
16, 1878.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 215

should find, that, although no two of them are exactly alike, they all
bear a certain general resemblance to one another. Thus from the
multitude of faces which I now perceive it becomes possible for my
mind to abstract from them all the essential qualities of a face as a
face ; and such a mental abstraction of qualities would then constitute
what I might call my abstract idea of a face in general, as distinguished
from my concrete idea, or memory, of any face in particular.

Thus, then, we have three stages : 1. That of immediate percep-
tion; 2. That of ideal representation of particular objects; and, 3.
That of a generalized conception, or abstract idea, of a number of
qualities which a whole class of objects agree in possessing. It will
be convenient to split the latter division into two subdivisions, viz.,
abstract ideas which are sufficiently simple to be developed without
the aid of language, and abstract ideas which are so complex as not
to admit of development without the aid of language. As an instance
of the former class of abstract ideas we may take the idea of food.
This is aroused in our minds by the feeling of hunger ; and, while the
idea when thus aroused is clearly quite independent of language, it is
no less clearly what is called an abstract idea. For it is by no means
necessary that the idea of food which is present to the mind should be
the idea of some special kind of food ; on the contrary, the idea is usu-
ally that of food in general^ and this idea it is which usually prompts
us to seek for any kind of food in particular. Simple abstract ideas,
therefore, may be formed without the assistance of language ; and for
this reason they are comprised within what has been called the Logic
of Feelings. But abstract ideas of a more elaborated type can only be
formed by the help of words, and are therefore comprised within what
has been called the Logic of Signs. The manner in which language
thus operates in the formation of highly-abstract ideas is easily ex-
plained. Because we see that a great many objects present a certain
quality in common, such as redness, we find it convenient to give this
quality a name ; and having done this we speak of redness in the ab-
stract, or as standing apart from any particular object. Our word
*' redness " then serves as a sign or symbol of a quality as apart from
any particular object of which it may happen to be a quality ; and
having made this symbolical abstraction in the case of a simple quality,
such as redness, we can afterward compound it with other symbolical
abstractions, and so on till we arrive at verbal symbols of more and
more complex qualities, as well as qualities further and further removed
from immediate perception. By the help of these symbols, therefore,
we climb into higher and higher regions of abstraction ; by thinking in
verbal signs, we think, as it were, with the semblance of thoughts, and
by combining these signs in various ways, and giving the resulting
compounds distinctive names, we are able to condense into single
words, or signs, an enormous amount of meaning. So that, just as in
mathematics the symbols which are employed contain, in an easily

2i6 THE POPULAR SCIEJVCE MONTHLY.

manipulated form, the whole meaning of a long calculation, so in all
other kinds of reasoning the symbols which we call words contain, in
an abbreviated form, vast bodies of signification. Indeed, any one who
investigates this subject cannot fail to become convinced that it is
wholly impossible to over-estimate the value of language as thus the
handmaid of thought ; for, as we have seen, in the absence of language
it would be impossible for thought to rise above the very simplest of
abstract ideas, while in the presence of language it becomes possible
for us consciously to predicate qualities, and so at last to feel that we
are conscious of our own consciousness.

So much, then, for our classification of ideas. We have, first, simple
ideas, or ideas of particular perceptions ; and, secondly, abstract ideas,
or ideas of general qualities ; and the latter class I have subdivided
into those which may be developed by simple feelings, and those which
can only be developed by the aid of signs.

Now, with regard to ideas themselves, I need only add that they are
the psychological units which compose the whole structure intellect-
ual. They constitute, as it were, the raw material of thought, which
may be elaborated by the reflective faculty into various products of
thought. Once formed they present an essential property of occurring
in concatenated series ; so that the occurrence of one idea determines
that of another with which it has been previously joined. This prin-
ciple of the association of ideas, manifested as it is by the ultimate units
of intellectual structure, is by far the most important principle in psy-
chology : it is the principle which renders possible all the faculties of
mind — memory, instinct, judgment, reason, emotion, conscience, and
volition.

We are now in a position to investigate the facts of comparative
psychology ; and, in order to do so thoroughly, I shall begin by con-
sidering what I may term the physiological basis of mind. There is no
reasonable doubt that all mental processes are accompanied by nervous
processes ; or, to adopt the convenient terms of Prof. Huxley, that psy-
chosis is invariably assodated with neurosis. The nature of this asso-
ciation, according to the best lights of our present knowdedge, is prob-
ably as follows : Nerve-tissue consists of two elementarj^ parts, viz.,
nerve-cells and nerve-fibres. The nerve-cells are usually collected into
aggregates, which are called nerve-centres, and to these nerve-centres
bundles of nerve-fibres come and go. The incoming nerve-fibres serve
to conduct stimuli or impressions to the cells in the nerve-centre ; and,
when the cells thus receive a stimulus or impression, they liberate a
discharge of nervous energy, which then courses down the outgoing
nerve-fibres to be distributed either to other nerve-centres or else to
muscles. It is in this way that nerve-centres are able to act in har-
mony with one another, and so to coordinate the action of the muscles
over which they preside. This fundamental principle of neurosis is
what physiologists call the principle of reflex action ; and you will per-

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 217

ceive that all it requires for its manifestation is an incoming nerve, a
nerve-centre, and an outgoing nerve, which together constitute what
has been called a nervous arc. Now, there can be no reasonable doubt
that in the complex structure of the brain one nervous arc is connected
with another nervous arc, and this with another almost ad infinitum y
and there can be equally little doubt that processes of thought are ac-
companied by nervous discharges taking place now in this arc and now
in that one, according as the nerve-centre in each arc is excited to dis-
charge its influence by receiving a discharge from some of the other
nerve-arcs with which it is connected. Again, it is almost certain that
the more frequently a nervous discharge takes place through a given
group of nervous arcs, the more easy will it be for subsequent discharges
to take place along the same routes — these routes having been thus
rendered more permeable to the passage of subsequent discharges. So
that in this physiological principle of reflex action we no doubt have
the objective side of the psychological principle of the association of
ideas. For it may be granted that a series of discharges taking place
through the same group of nervous arcs will always be attended with
the same occurrence of the same series of ideas ; and it may be further
granted that the previous passage of a series of discharges through any
group of nervous arcs, by making the route more permeable, will have
the efi'ect of making subsequent discharges pursue the same course when
started from the same origin. And, if these two propositions be grant-
ed, it follows that the tendency of ideas to recur in the same order as
that in which they have previously occurred is merely a psychological
expression of the physiological fact that lines of reflex discharge become
more and more permeable by use. We thus see that the most funda-
mental of psychological principles — the association of ideas — is merely
an obverse expression of the most fundamental neurological principles
— reflex action. But here we have an important qualification to take
into account. All reflex action, or neurosis, is not attended with idea-
tion, or psychosis. In our own organization, for instance, it is only
cerebral reflexes which are so attended ; and even among cerebral re-
flexes there is good reason to believe that the greater number of them
are not accompanied by conscious ideation ; for analysis shows that it
is only those cerebral discharges which have taken place comparatively
seldom, and the passage of which is therefore comparatively slow, that
are accompanied by any ideas, or changes of consciousness. The more
habitual any action becomes, the less conscious do we require to be of
its performance ; it is, as we say, performed automatically, or without
thought. Now, it is of great importance thus to observe that conscious-
ness only emerges when cerebral reflexes are flowing along compara-
tively unaccustomed channels, and therefore that cerebral discharges
which at first were accompanied by definite ideas may, by frequent
repetition, cease to be accompanied by any ideas. It is of importance
to observe this fact, because it serves to explain the origin of a number

2i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of animal instincts. These instincts must originally have been of an
intelligent nature ; but the actions which they prompted, having through
successive generations been frequently repeated, became at last organ-
ized into a purely mechanical reflex, and therefore now appear as actions
which we call purely automatic or blindly instinctive. Thus, for in-
stance, the scratching of graminivorous birds in earth and stones was
no doubt originally an intelligent aotion, performed with the conscious
purpose of uncovering seeds ; but by frequent repetition through suc-
cessive generations the action has now become blindly instinctive. This
is shown by the following experiment : Dr. Allen Thomson tells me
that he hatched out some chickens on a carpet, where he kept them for
several days. They showed no inclination to scratch, because the stimu-
lus supplied by the carpet to the soles of their feet was of too novel a
character to call into action the hereditary instinct ; but when Dr.
Thomson sprinkled a little gravel on the carpet, and so supplied the
appropriate or customary stimulus, the chickens immediately began
their scratching movements. Yet, for aught that these chickens can
have known to the contrary, there was as good a chance of finding seeds
in the carpet as in the thin layer of gravel. And numberless other
cases might be given to prove that animals acquire instincts by fre-
quently repeating intelligent actions, just as we ourselves acquire, even
in our individual lifetime, an instinct to adjust our nightcaps — an in-
stinct which may become so pronounced as to assert itself even when a
man is in the profound unconsciousness of apoplectic coma.

Thus we are able to explain all the more complicated among ani-
mal instincts as cases of "lapsed intelligence." But, on the other
hand, a great many of the more simjole instincts were probably evolved
in a more simple way. That is to say, they have probably never been
of an intelligent character, but have begun as merely accidental ad-
justments of the organism to its surroundings, and have then been laid
hold upon by natural selection and developed into automatic reflexes.
Take, for instance, the action of so-called " shamming dead," which is
performed by certain insects and allied animals when in the presence
of danger. That this is not a case of intelligent action we may feel
quite sure, not only because it would be absurd to suppose that insects
could have any such highly-abstract ideas as those of death and its con-
scious simulation, but also because Mr. Darwin tells me that he once
made a number of observations on this subject, and in no case did he
find that the attitude in which the animal shammed dead resembled
that in which the animal really died. All, therefore, that " shamming
dead " amounts to is an instinct to remain motionless, and therefore in-
conspicuous, in the presence of enemies ; and it is easy to see that this
instinct may have been developed by natural selection without ever
havins; been of an intellisfent nature — those individuals which were
least inclined to run away from enemies being preserved rather than
those which rendered themselves conspicuous hj movement.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 219

So that we thus see how animal instincts may arise in either of two
diflferent ways : for, on the one hand, they may arise from the perform-
ance of actions which were originally intelligent, but which b\' frequent
repetition have become automatic ; and, on the other hand, they may
arise from survival of the fittest, preserving actions which, although
never intelligent, yet happen to have been of benefit to the animals
which first chanced to perform them. But now let it be observed
that, although there is a great difference between these two kinds of
instincts if regarded psychologically, there is no difference between
them if regarded physiologically ; for, regarded physiologically, both
kinds of instincts are merely expressions of the fact that particular
nerve-cells and fibres have been set apart to perform their reflexes au-
tomatically— that is, without being accompanied by intelligence.

So much, then, for what I have called the physiological basis of
mind; and, in now taking leave of this part of my subject, I should
like to point out that, in recognizing the indisputable fact of mind hav-
ing such a basis, we are not necessarily committing ourselves to the doc-
trine of materialism. That psychical phenomena are very intimately
associated with physical phenomena is a fact which does not admit of
one moment's dispute ; but concerning the nature of this association
Science must declare, not merely that it is at present unknown, but
that, so far as she is at present able to discern, it must forever remain
unknowable. The restless tide of intellect for centuries has onward
rolled, submerging in its every arm those strong and rugged shores
whose name is Why; but at the line where mind and matter meet there
rises, like a frowning cliff, a mighty mj^sterj^, and in the darkness of
the place we hear the voice of true Philosophy proclaim, " Hitherto
shalt thou come, but no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be
stayed."

Passing on now to our review of comparative ps3^chology, the first
animals in which, so far as I can ascertain, we may be quite sure that
reflex action is accompanied by ideation, are the insects. For Mr. Dar-
win has observed that bees remember the position of flowers which they
have only several times visited, even though the flowers be concealed
by intervening houses, etc. Sir John Lubbock also has shown that,
after a very few individual experiences^ bees are able to establish a
definite association between particular colors on paper and food ; and
further that, after a, very few lessons, a bee may be taught to find its
way out of a glass jar. These observations would seem to prove that
the grade of intelligence is higher in some Articulata than it is among
the lower Vertebrata. For many of you will probably remember the
experiment of Prof. Mobius, which proved that a pike requires three
months to establish an association of ideas between particular kinds of
prey and the fact of their being protected by an invisible wall. This
fact was proved by the pike repeatedly dashing its nose against a glass
partition in its tank in fruitless efforts to catch minnows which were

220 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

confined on the other side of the partition. At the end of three months,
however, the requisite association was established, and the pike, having
learned that its efforts were of no use, ceased to continue them. The
sheet of glass was then removed ; but the now firmly-established asso-
ciation of ideas never seems to have become disestablished, for the pike
never afterward attacked the minnows, though it fed voraciously on all
other kinds of fish. From which we see that a pike is very slow in
forming his ideas, and no less slow in again unforming them — thus re-
sembling many respectable members of a higher community, who spend
one half of their lives in assimilating the obsolete ideas of their fore-
fathers, and through the other half of their lives stick to these ideas as
to the only possible truths ; they can never learn when the hand of Sci-
ence has removed a glass partition.

As regards the association of ideas by the higher vertebrated ani-
mals, it is only necessary to say that in all these animals, as in our-
selves, this principle of association is the fundamental principle of their
psychology ; that in the more intelligent animals, associations are
quickly formed, and when once formed are very persistent ; and, in
general, that, so far as animal ideation goes, the laws to which it is
subject are identical with those under which our own ideation is per-
formed.

Let us, then, next ask, " How far does animal ideation go ? " The
answer is most simple, although it is usually given in most erroneous
form. It is usually said that animals do not possess the faculty of ab-
straction, and therefore that the distinction between animal intelligence
and human intelligence consists in this — that animals are not able to
form abstract ideas. But this statement is most erroneous. You will
remember the distinction which I previously laid down between ab-
stract ideas that may be developed by simple feelings, such as hunger,
and abstract ideas that can only be developed by the aid of language.
Well, remembering this distinction, we shall find that the only differ-
ence between animal intelligence and human intelligence consists in
this— that animal intelligence is unable to elaborate that class of ab-
stract ideas the formation of which depends on the faculty of speech.
In other words, animals are quite as able to form abstract ideas as we
are, if under abstract ideas we include general ideas of qualities which
are so far simple as not to require to be fixed in our thoughts by names.
For instance, if I see a fox prowling about a farm-yard, I cannot doubt
that he has been led by hunger to visit a place where he has a general
idea that a number of good things are to be fallen in with, just as I
myself am led by a similar impulse to visit a restaurant. And, to take
only one other instance, there can be no question that animals have a
generalized conception of cause and effect. For example, I had a set-
ter dog which was greatly afraid of thunder. One day a number of
apples were being shot upon the wooden floor of an apple-room, and as
each bag of apples was shot it produced through the rest of the house

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 221

a noise resembling that of distant thunder. My dog became terror-
stricken at the sound ; but, as soon as I brought him to the apj^le-room
and showed him the true ccmse of the noise, he became again buoyant
and cheerful as usual. Another dog I had used to play at tossing dry
bones to give them the appearance of life. As an experiment, I one
day attached a 6ne thread to a dry bone before giving him the latter
to play with ; and, after he had tossed the bone about for a while as
usual, I stood a long way off and slowly beg.tin to draw it away from
him. So soon as he perceived that the bone was really moving on its
own account, his whole demeanor changed, and rushing under a sofa he
waited horror-stricken to watch the uncanny sjDectacle of a dry bone
coming to life. I have also greatly frightened this dog by blowing
soap-bubbles along the floor ; one of these he summoned courage enough
to touch with his paw, but as soon as it vanished he ran out of the room,
terrified at so mysterious a disappearance. Lastly, I have put this dog
into a paroxysm of fear by taking him into a room alone and silently
making a series of horrible grimaces. Although I had never in my life
hurt this dog, he became greatly frightened at my unusual behavior,
which so seriously conflicted with his general idea of uniformity in mat-
ters psychological. But I have tried this experiment with less intelli-
gent dogs without any other result than that of causing them to bark
at me.

Of course in thus claiming for animals the power of forming general
conceptions, I mean only such general conceptions as can be arrived at
by the logic of feelings. So far, then, as the logic of feelings can carry
them, I maintain that the intellectual operations of animals are indis-
tinguishable from those of ourselves. For having thus shown that ani-
mals possess the faculty of abstraction, I shall now go on to show that
they possess the faculties both of judgment and of reason. My friend
Dr. Rae, the well-known traveler and naturalist, knew a dog in Orkney
which, used to accompany his master to church on alternate Sundays.
To do so he had to swim a channel about a mile wide ; and before
taking to the water he used to run about a mile to the north when the
tide was flowing, and a nearlj^ equal distance to the south when the
tide was ebbing, " almost invariably calculating his distance so well
that he landed at the neai-est point to the church." In his letter to me
Dr. Rae continues : " How the dog managed to calculate the strength
of the spring and neap tides at their various rates of speed, and always
to swim at the proper angle, is most surprising."

So much, then, for judgment. For some good instances of reason-
ing in animals I am also indebted to Dr. Rae. Desiring to obtain
some arctic foxes, he set various kinds of traps ; but, as the foxes
knew these traps from previous experience, he was unsuccessful. Ac-
cordingly, he set a kind of trap with which the foxes in that part of the
country were not acquainted. This consisted of a loaded gun set upon
a stand pointing at the bait. A string connected the trigger of the

222 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

gun with the bait, so that when the fox seized the bait he discharged
the gun, and thus committed suicide. In this arrangement the gun
was separated from the bait by a distance of about twenty yards, and
the string which connected the trigger with the bait was concealed
throughout nearly its whole distance in the snow. The gun-trap thus
set was successful in killing one fox, but not in killing a second ; for
the foxes afterward adopted either of two devices whereby to secure
the bait without injuring themselves. One of these devices was to bite
through the string at its exposed part near the trigger, and the other
device was to burrow up to the bait through the snow at right angles
to the line of fire, so that, although in this way they discharged the
gun, th&y escaped without injury — the bait being pulled below the line
of fire before the string was drawn sufficiently tight to discharge the
gun. Now, both of these devices exhibited a wonderful degree of what
I think must fairly be called power of reasoning. I have carefully in-
terrogated Dr. Rae on all the circumstances of the case, and he tells
me that in that part of the world traps are never set with strings, so
that there can have been no special association in the foxes' minds
between strings and traps. Moreover, after the death of fox number
one, the track on the snow showed that fox number two, notwithstand-
ing the temptation offered by the bait, had expended a great deal of
scientific observation on the gun before he undertook to sever the cord.
Lastly, with regard to burrowing at right angles to the line of fire. Dr.
Rae and a friend in whom he has confidence observed the fact a suffi-
cient number of times to satisfy themselves that the direction of the
burrowing was really to be attributed to thovight and not to chance.

I could give several other unequivocal instances of reasoning on
the part of animals which I have myself observed ; but time does not
permit of my stating them. Passing on, therefore, to the emotional
life of animals, we find that this is very slightly, if at all, developed in
the lower orders, but remarkably well developed in the higher ; that is
to say, the emotions are vivid and easily excited, although they are
shallow and evanescent. They thus differ from those of most civilized
men in being more readily aroused and more impetuous while they last,
though leaving behind them but little trace of their occurrence. As
regards the particular emotions which occur among the higher animals,
I can affirm from my own observations that all the following give
unmistakable tokens of their presence : Fear, Affection, Passionate-
ness. Pugnacity, Jealousy, Sympathy, Pride, Reverence, Emulation,
Shame, Hate, Curiosity, Revenge, Cruelty, Emotion of the Ludicrous,
and Emotion of the Beautiful. Now, this list includes nearly all the
human emotions, except those which refer to religion and to the percep-
tion of the sublime. These, of course, are necessarily absent in ani-
mals, because they depend upon ideas of too abstract a nature to be
reached by the mind when unaided by the logic of signs. Time pre-
vents me from here detailing any of my observations or experiments

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 223

with regard to the emotional life of animals, so I will pass on at once
to the faculty of Conscience. Of course, the moral sense, as it occurs
in ourselves, involves ideas of high abstraction, so that in animals we
can only expect to meet with a moral sense in a very rudimentary
form ; and, therefore, even if it is true that no indications of such a
sense are to be met with in animals, the fact would not establish any
diflFerence in kind between animal intelligence and human. But I am
inclined to believe that in highly-intelligent, highly-sympathetic, and
tolerably well-treated animals, the germs of a moral sense become
apparent. To give two instances : I once shut up a Skye terrier in a
room by himself while T went to a friend's house. The dog must have
been thrown into a violent passion at being left behind, for when I
returned I found that he had torn the window-curtains to shreds. He
was in great joy at seeing me ; but as soon as I picked up one of the
torn shreds of the curtains the animal gave a howl and ran screaming
up the staircase. Now, this dog was never chastised in his life, so that
I can only explain his conduct as an expression of the remorse which
he suffered at having done in a passion what he knew would cause me
annoyance. So far as I can interpret the facts, his sympathetic affec-
tion for me, coupled with the memory of his misdeeds, created in his
mind a genuine feeling of repentance.

The other instance I have to narrate occurred with the same terrier.
Only once in his life was he ever known to steal ; and on this occasion,
when very hungry, he took a cutlet from a table and carried it under a
sofa. I saw him perform this act of larceny, but pretended not to have
done so, and for a number of minutes he remained under the sofa with
his feelings of hunger struggling against his feelings of dut}^ At last
the latter triumphed ; for he brought the stolen cutlet and laid it at
my feet. Immediately after doing so he again ran under the sofa, and
from this retreat no coaxing could draw him. Moreoverj when I patted
his head he turned away his face in a ludicrously conscience-stricken
manner. Now, I regard this instance as particularly valuable, from the
fact that the terrier in question had never been beaten, and hence that
it cannot have been" fear of bodily pain which prompted these actions.
On the whole, therefore, I can only suppose that we have in these
actions evidence of as high a development of the ethical faculty as is
attainable by the logic of feelings when unassisted by the logic of
signs — that is to say, a grade A^ery nearly, if not quite, as high as that
with which we meet in low savages, young children, many idiots, and
uneducated deaf-mutes.

This allusion to savages, children, idiots, and deaf-mutes, leads me
to the next division of my subject.

Prof. St, George Mivart has said that an interesting book might be
written on the stupidity of animals. I am inclined to think that a still
more interesting book might be written on the stupidity of savages.
For it is a matter of not the least interest how much stupidity any

2 24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

number of animals may present, so long as some animals present suffi-
cient sagacity to supply data for the general theory of evolution ;
while, on the other hand, it is of the utmost importance for the science
of this century to ascertain the lowest dej^ths in which the mind of man
is known to exist as human. Now, there is no doubt that the interval
which separates the most degraded savage from the most intelligent
animal is, psychologically considered, enormous ; but, enormous as it
is, I cannot see any evidence to show that the gulf may not have been
bridged over during the countless ages of the past. Abstract ideas
among savages are mostly confined to such as may be formed by the
logic of the feelings ; so that, for instance, according to the observa-
tions and the judgment of Mr. Francis Galton, the ideas of number
which are presented by the lowest savages are certainly in no degree
superior to those which are presented by the higher animals. Such
ideas as savages possess seem to be mainly those which, as in animals,
are due to special associations. On this account there is in them, as in
animals, a remarkable tendency to act in accordance with preformed
habits, rather than to strike out improved modes of action. On this
account, also, there is, as in animals, a strong tendency to imitation as
distinguished from origination. Again, as in animals, so in savages,
the reflective power is of an extremely undeveloped character, and
quite incapable of sustained application. And, lastly, the emotions of
savages, as of animals, are vivid, although, as contrasted with the
emotions of civilized man, they are in a marked degree more fitful,
impetuous, shallow, and transitory. So that, altogether, I think the
lowest savages supply us with a most valuable transition-stage between
mind as we know it in ourselves, and mind as we see it manifested by
the higher animals.

With regard to children it is to be expected, on the general theory
of evolution by inheritance, that if we were attentively to study the
order in which their mental faculties develop, we should find that the
historical sequence is, as it were, a condensed epitome of the order in
which these faculties were developed during the evolution of the human
species. And this expectation is fairly well realized. Very young
children present only those lower faculties of mind which in animals we
call instincts. With advancing age, the first indication of true intelli-
gence seems to consist in the power of forming special associations.
Memory thus appears early in life ; and, long before a child is able to
speak, it links together in thought ideas of objects which it finds to be
associated in fact. Again, the emotions begin to assert their presence
at a very early period, and attain a high degree of development before
any of the characteristically human faculties can be said to have ap-
peared. Moreover, in young children we meet with nearly all the
emotions which I have named as occurring in animals, and their general
character is much of the same kind. In more advanced childhood the
emotional life of children more resembles that of savages. With regard

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 225

to the more purely intellectual faculties, language is largely intelligible
to a child long before it is itself able to articulate ; but, soon after it is
able to articulate, the faculty of abstracting qualities and classifying
objects by the aid of signs begins its course of development. Thus,
for instance, I have lately seen a child who belongs to one of the best
of living observers, and who is just beginning to speak. This child
called a duck " quack," and by special association it also called water
"quack." By an appreciation of the resemblance of qualities, it next
extended the term " quack " to denote all birds and insects on the one
hand, and all fluid substances on the other. Lastly, by a still more
delicate appreciation of resemblance, the child eventually called all
coins " quack," because on the back of a French sou it had once seen
the representation of an eagle. Hence to this child the sign " quack,"
from having originally had a very speciahzed meaning, became more
and more extended in its signification, until it now serves to designate
such apparently different objects as " flj'," " wine," and " shilling." And
as in this process we have the initiation of the logic of signs, so we have
in it the potentiality of the most abstract thought. Accordingly, soon
after a child begins to speak, we find that reason of a properly human
kind begins to be developed.

Upon the whole, then, the study of infant psychology yields just
the kind of results which the general theory of evolution would lead us
to expect. But in comparing the intelligence of a j^oung child with
that of an adult animal we are met with this difficulty — that as the
bodily powers of children at so immature an age are so insufficiently
developed, the mind is not able, as in the case of animals, to accumu-
late experiences of life. In order, therefore, to obtain a fair parallel,
we should require a human being whose mental powers have become
arrested in their development at an early age, while the bodily powers
have continued to develop to mature age, so serving to supply the
aborted human intelligence with full experiences of life. Now, the
nearest approach that we have to these conditions is to be found in the
case of idiots. Accordingly, in anticipation of this lecture, I have sent
a table of questions to all the leading authorities on idiocy, and the
answers which I have obtained display a very substantial agreement.
Through the kindness of these gentlemen I have also been enabled to
examine personally a number of the patients who are under their
charge. In particular I have to express my obligations to Drs. Beech,
Crichton Browne, Langdon Down, Ireland, Maudsley, Savage, and
Shuttleworth. On the present occasion I can only pause to state the
leading facts which have been elicited by this inquiry.

As there are all degrees of idioc}^ the object of my inquiry was to
determine the order in which the various mental faculties become en-
feebled and disappear as we descend from the higher to the lower
grades of imbecility. On the general theory of evolution we should
expect that in such a descending scale the characteristically human, or

VOL. XIV. — 15

2 26 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the more recently developed, faculties should be the first to disappear,
while those faculties which man shares with the lower animals should
be the most persistent. And this expectation I have found to be fairly
well realized. Beginning from below, the first dawn of intelhgeiice in
the ascending scale of idiots, as in the ascending scale of animals, is
invariably to be found in the power of associating simple concrete ideas.
Thus, there are very few idiots so destitute of intelligence that the
appearance of food does not arouse in their minds the idea of eating ;
and, as we ascend in the scale idiotic, we find the principle of associa-
tion progressively extending its influence, so that the mind is able, not
only to establish a greater and greater number of special associations,
but also to retain these associations with an ever-increasing power of
memory. In the case of the higher idiots, as in the case of the higher
animals, it is surprising in how considerable a degree the faculty of
special association is developed, notwithstanding the dwarfed condition
of all the higher faculties. Thus, for instance, it is not a difficult mat-
ter to teach a clever idiot to play dominos, in the same way as a clever
dog has been taught to play dominos, viz., by teaching special asso-
ciations between the optical appearances of the facets which the game
requires to be brought together. But the idiot may be quite as unable
as the dog to play at any game which involves the understanding of a
simple rationale, such, for instance, as draughts. And, similarlj', many
of the higher idiots have been taught to recognize, by special associa-
tion, the time on a watch ; but it is remarkable that the high power of
forming special associations which this fact implies occvirs in the same
minds which are unable to perform so simple a calculation as this : If it
is ten minutes to three, how many minutes is it past two? Thus it
will be seen that among idiots, as among animals, the faculty of form-
ing special associations between concrete ideas attains a comparatively
high degree of development. Let us then next turn to the faculties of
abstraction and reason. Prepared as I was to expect these faculties to
be the most deficient, I have been greatly surprised at the degree in
which they are so. As regards the power of forming abstract ideas
which depend on the logic of signs, it is only among the very highest
class of idiots that any such power is apparent at all ; and even here
it is astonishing in how very small a degree this power is exhibited.
There seems, for instance, to be an almost total absence of the idea of
right and wrong as such ; so that the faculty of conscience, properly
so called, can rarely be said to be present. Most of the higher idiots,
indeed, experience a feeling of remorse on offending the sympathies of
those whom they love, just as did mj'^ dog on tearing the window-cur-
tains ; but I have been able to obtain very little evidence of any true
idiot whose action is prompted by any idea of right and wrong in the
abstract, or as apart from the idea of approbation and disapprobation
of those whose good feeling he values.

Again, the faculty of reason is dwarfed to the utmost — so much so.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 227

that the investigator is most of all astonished at the poverty of rational
power which may be displayed by a human mind that in most other
respects seems well developed. I can only wait to give you one ex-
ample, but it may be taken as typical. A boy fourteen years of age,
belonging to the highest class of undoubted idiots, could scarcely be
called feeble-minded as regarded many of his faculties. Thus, for in-
stance, his powers of memory were above the average, so that he had
no difficulty in learning Latin, French, etc. Moreover, he could tell you
by mental calculation the product of two numbers into two numbers,
such as 35 by 35, or of one number into three numbers, such as number
of days in nine years. His powers of mental calculation Avere there-
fore quite equal to those of any average boy of his age. Yet he was
not able to answer any question that involved the simplest act of rea-
son. Thus, when I asked him how many sixpences there are in a sov-
ereign, he was quite unable to answer. Although he knew that there
are two sixpences in a shilling, and twenty shillings in a sovereign, and
could have immediately have said that twice twenty are forty, yet he
could not perform the simple act of inference which the question in-
volved. Again, I asked him, if he could buy oranges at a farthing each,
how many he could he buy for twopence ? He thought long and hard,
saying, "I know that four farthings make a penny, and the oranges
cost a farthing each ; then how many could I buy for twopence ? Ah !
that's the question, and there's just the puzzle." Nor was he able by
the utmost effort to solve the puzzle. This boy had a very just appre-
ciation of his own physiological character. Alluding to his power of
forming special associations and retaining them in his excellent mem-
ory, he observed : " Once put anything into my head and you don't
get it out again very easily ; but there's no use in asking me to do
puzzles."

Lastlv, the emotional life of all the hisfher idiots, as of all the
higher animals, is remarkably vivid as compared witli their intellectual
life. All the emotions are present (except, perhaps, that of the sublime
and the religious emotions), and they occur for the most part in the
same order as to strength as that which I have already named in the
case of animals. But, more than this, just as in animals, children, and
savages, so in idiots, the emotions, although vivid and keen, are not
profound. A trivial event will make the higher idiots laugh or cry,
and it is easy to hurt their feelings with a slight offense ; but the
death of a dear relative is very soon forgotten, while the stronger pas-
sions, such as love, hate, ambition, etc., do not occur with that force
and persistency which properly entitle them to be called by these
names.

Upon the whole, then, with regard to idiots, it may be said that we
have in them a natural experiment wherein the development of a hu-
man mind is arrested at some particular stage, while the body is allowed
to continue its growth. Therefore, by arranging idiots in a descending

228 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

grade, we obtain, as it were, an. inclined plane of human intelligence,
which indicates the probable order in which the human faculties have
appeared during the history of their development ; and, on examining
this inclined plane of human intelligence, we find that it runs sugges-
tively parallel with the inclined plane of animal intelligence, as we
descend from the higher to the lower forms of psychical life.

I have only time to treat of one other branch of my subject. Be-
lieving, as I have said, that language, or the logic of signs, plays so
essential a part in developing the higher intellectual life of man, it
occurred to me that a valuable test of the truth of this view was to be
found in the mental condition of uneducated deaf-mutes. It often hap-
pens that deaf and dumb children of poor parents are so far neglected
that they are never taught finger-language, or any other system of
signs, whereby to converse with their fellow-creatures. The conse-
quence, of course, is that these unfortunate children grow up in a state
of intellectual isolation, which is almost as complete as that of any of
the lower animals. Now, when such a child grows up and falls into the
hands of some competent teacher, it may, of course, be educated, and
is then in a position to record its experiences when in its state of intel-
lectual isolation. I have, therefore, obtained all the evidence I can as
to the mental condition of such persons, and I find that their testimony
is perfectly uniform. In the absence of language, the mind is able to
think in the logic of feelings, but can never rise to any ideas of higher
abstraction than those which the logic of feelings supplies. The un-
educated deaf-mutes have the same notions of right and wrong, cause
and eflFect, and so on, as we have already seen that animals and idiots
possess. They always think in the most concrete forms, as shown by
their telling us when educated that so long as they were uneducated
they always thought in pictures. Moreover, that they cannot attain to
ideas of even the lowest degree of abstraction, is shown by the fact that
in no one instance have I been able to find evidence of a deaf-mute
who, prior to education, had evolved for himself any form of supernat-
uralism. And this, I think, is remarkable, not only because we might
fairly suppose that some rude form of fetichism, or ghost-worship,
would not be too abstract a system for the unaided mind of a civilized
man to elaborate, but also because the mind in this case is not wholly
unaided.' On the contrary, the friends of the deaf-mute usually do
their utmost to communicate to his mind some idea of whatever form of
religion they may happen to possess. Yet it is uniformly found that,
in the absence of language, no idea of this kind can be communicated.

^ Were it not for certain criticisms which have appeared on my lecture as originally
delivered, I should have thought it unnecessary to point out that an uneducated deaf-
mute inherits the cerebral structure of a man. The fact, therefore, of his having human
feelings and expressions of face, as well as the capacity for education, is no proof that
language is not necessary for the formation of abstract ideas, unless it could h^ proved
that the human brain might have been what it is, even if the human race had never
evolved any system of language.

AXIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 229

For instance, the Rev. Mr. S. Smith tells me that one of his pupils,
previous to education, supposed the Bible to have been printed by a
printing-press in the sky, which was worked by printers of enormous
strengtli — this being the only interpretation the deaf-mute could assign
to the gestures whereby his parents sought to make him understand
that they believed the Bible to contain a revelation from a God of
power who lives in heaven. Similarly, Mr. Graham Bell informs me of
another, though similar case, in which the deaf-mute supposed the ob-
ject of going to church to be that of doing obeisance to the clergy.

On the whole, then, from the mental condition of uneducated deaf-
mutes we learn the important lesson that, in the absence of language,
the mind of a man is almoslf on a level wath the mind of a brute in re-
spect of its power of forming abstract ideas. So that all our lines of
evidence converge to one conclusion : the only difference which analy-
sis can show to obtain between the mind of man and the mind of the
lower animals consists in this — that the mind of man has been able
to develop the germ of rational thought whicli is undevelojDed in the
mind of animals, and that the development of this germ has been due
to the power of abstx'action which is rendered possible by the faculty of
speech. I have, therefore, no hesitation in giving it as my opinion
that the faculty of speech is alone the ultimate source of that enormous
difference which now obtains between the mind of man and the mind
of the lower animals. Is this source of difference adequate to distin-
guish the mitid of man from the mind of the lower animals in kind ? I
leave you all to answer this question for yourselves. I am satisfied
with my work if I have made it clear to you that the question, whether
human intelligence differs from animal intelligence in kind or in degree,
hinges entirely on the question whether the faculty of speech has been
of an origin natural or supernatural. Still, to be candid, Avhen the
questions occur to me — Seeing that language is of such prodigious
importance as a psychological instrument, does not the presence of
language serve to distinguish us in kind from all other forms of life ?
How is it that no mere brute has ever learned to communicate with its
fellows by words ? Why has man alone of animals been gifted with
the Logos ? — I say, when these questions occur to me, I feel that, al-
though from the absence of prehistorical knowledge I am not able to an-
swer them, still, when I reflect on the delicacy of the conditions which,
on the naturalistic hypotheses, must first have led to the beginning of
articulate language — conditions not only anatomical and physiological,
but also psychological and sociological — when I thus reflect, I cease to
wonder that the complicated faculty of speech should only have become
developed in Homo sapiens.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have now given you an organized epitome
of the leading results which have been obtained by a study of the facts
and the principles of comparative psychology ; and, as in doing so I
have chiefly sought to address those among you who are interested in

230 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

science, I fear that to some of you I must in many places have been
very hard to follow. But as a general outcome of the whole lecture —
as the great and vivifying principle by which all the facts are more or
less connected, and made to spring into a living body of philosophic
truth — I will ask you to retain in your memories one cardinal conclu-
sion. We are living in a generation which has witnessed a revolution
of thought unparalleled in the hisiory of our race. I do not merely
allude to the fact that this is a generation in which all the sciences,
without exception, have made a leap of progress such as widely to sur-
pass all pi-evious eras of intellectual activity ; but I allude to the fact
that in the special science of biology it has been reserved for us to see
the first rational enunciation, the first practical demonstration, and the
first general acceptance, of the doctrine of evolution. And I allude to
this fact as to a fact of unparalleled importance in the history of
thought, not only because I know how completely it has transformed
the study of life from a mere grouping of disconnected observations to
a rational tracing of fundamental principles, but also because it is now
plainly to be foreseen that what the philosophy of evolution has already
accomplished is but an earnest of what it is destined to achieve. "We
know the results which have followed in the science of astronomy by
the mathematical proof of tfee law of gravitation ; and can we doubt
that even more important results will follow in the much more complex
science of biology from the practical proof of the law of evolution ? I
at least can entertain no doubt on this head ; and, forasmuch as this
enormous change in our means of knowledge and our modes of thought
has been so largely due to the almost unaided labors of a single man, I
do not hesitate to say, even before so critical an audience as this, that
in all the history of science there is no single name worthy of a venera-
tion more profound than the now immortal name of Charles Darwin.

Do you ask me why I close this lecture with such a panegyric on
the philosophy of evolution ? My answer is : If we have found that in
the study of life the theory of descent is the key-note by which all the
facts of our science are brought into harmonious relation, we cannot
doubt that in our study of mind the theory of descent must be of an
importance no less fundamental. And, indeed, even in this our time,
which is marked by the first opening dawn of the science of psychology,
we have but to look with eyes unprejudiced to see that the philosophy
of evolution is here like a rising sun of truth, eclipsing all the lesser
lights of previous philosophies, dispelling superstitions like vapors born
of darkness, and revealing to our gladdened gaze the wonders of a
world till now unseen. So that the cardinal conclusion which I desire
you to take away, and to retain in your memories long after all the
lesser features of this discourse shall have faded from your thoughts, is
the conclusion that mind is everywhere one ; and that the study of
comparative psychology, no less than the study of comparative anatomy,
Las hitherto yielded results in full agreement with that great transfor-

SKETCH OF DR, PETERMANN. 231

mation in our view of things, which, as I have said, is without a par-
allel in the history of thought, and which it has been the great, the in-
dividual glory of this age and nation to achieve. — Nineteenth Century.

SKETCH OF DR. PETERMxV^^X.

AUGUST HEINRICH PETERMANN, the world-renowned geog-
rapher, whose death under peculiarly painful circumstances was
announced a few weeks ago, was born April 18, 1822, at Bleicherode, a
small town in the Prussian province of Saxony. His parents destined
him for the ministry of the church, and to this end sent him at an early
ao-e to the gymnasium or college of Nordhausen, one of the principal
towns of his native province. Here he pursued the usual course of
study in preparation for the university ; but having in the mean time
evinced a special liking and aptitude for geographical research, and
especially for cartography, he abandoned the idea of entering the min-
istry, and gained admission to the Royal School of Geographical Art,
founded three years previously at Potsdam by the well-known geogra-
pher Heinricli. Berghaus, who was himself principal of the institution.
Here Petermann remained for six years, first as a student, later as
Berghaus's secretary and librarian, assisting him also in constructing
and designing his great " Physical Atlas." Through this association
with Berghaus, Petermann was brought into relations of friendship and
intimacy with many of the great travelers and savants of the time in
Germany, and in particular was so fortunate as to attract the favorable
notice of Alexander von Humboldt, who in 1841 employed him to draw
a map illustrating his great Avork, " Asie Centrale."

In 1845, on the completion of Berghaus's " Physical Atlas," Peter-
mann went to Edinburgh, where for two years he assisted the late
Alexander Keith Johnston in adapting that work for the use of English
readers. From Edinburgh he went to London, whither the fame of his
meritorious services to the science of geography had preceded him..
He was elected to the Royal Geographical Society, and became one of
its most active members. During the seven years which he passed in
the British metropolis he weekly contributed to the Athenceum notices;
of geographical progress, reviews of books, and the like. He also wrote
geographical articles for the " Encyclopcedia Britannica " and for the-
" English Cyclopoedia." In association with the Rev. Thomas Milner
he prepared a popular " Atlas of Physical Geography ; " he also pub-
lished many separate maps. He was in no mean degree instrumental
in promoting the Richardson-Bartli-Overweg expedition sent out in
1849 by the British Government to explore Central Africa. Richard-
son having died at Unguratua in the spring of 1851, Barth succeeded
to the leadership, and on liis return to England published in three vol-

232 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

umes an account of his travels. The maps illustrating this work were,
as the author writes in his preface, " executed with artistic skill and
scientific precision by Dr. Petermann." Henceforward the exploration
of the " dark continent " was one of the two dominant thoughts of
Petermann's mind, the other being north-polar exploration. He has
awakened throughout Europe a lively interest in both of these depart-
ments of research, and there is no doubt that to him is due much of
the advancement made in geographical knowledge during the last thirty
years ; and recent German explorers of Africa, as Heuglin, Munzinger,
Rohlfs, Mauch, Schvveinfurth, and Nachtigal, fouad in Petermann a pow-
erful advocate to enlist popular sympathy for their labors. In high
northern exploration he was a believer in an open Polar Sea, therein
agreeing with our own great navigators, Kane and Hall, but his favor-
ite route to the pole was along the east coast of Greenland, while
our countrymen prefer the route through Davis Strait, along the west
coast.

In 1854 he took up his residence at Gotha, having been appointed
Director of Justus Perthes's Geographical Institute, the most extensive
establishment in the world for the production of maps and charts ; this
position he held down to his death. That now well-known monthly
journal of geography, M'tttheilungen cms Justus Perthes^ GeograpTii-
scher Anstalt, was founded in 1855, succeeding Berghaus's geographical
annual, the " Geographisches Jahrbuch." Petermann assumed the edi-
torship of the new magazine, which quickly reached an eminence unat-
tained by any other periodical of its class. The editor impressed his
personality on every page of his magazine, and it is commonly known
as Petermann'' s Mittheihingen. It was in the same year, 1855, that
he received from the University of Gottingen the degree of Ph. D.
Geographical societies throughout the Avorld have enrolled his name in
the lists of their honorary membership, and in 18G9 the Emperor of
Austria conferred on him the order of the Iron Crown, in recognition
of his services to arctic exploration. Some 3-ears ago he was appointed
Professor of Geography in the Polytechnic School at Gotha {not in the
University of Gotha, as some of the newspapers have it, and that for
the sufficient reason that Gotha has no university). He visited the United
States in 1876, and was received with fitting honors by the American
Geographical Society of New York.

For a few days before his death Petermann suffered from a painful
attack of bronchitis, coughing almost continually. At the same time
he complained of a headache so intense that the slightest touch of a
finger on tlie forehead caused him an agony of pain. To these physi-
cal ills were added domestic troubles of an extremely aggravating kind,
and the result Avas a pitiable state of nervous excitement, amounting
almost to frenzy. Life seemed unendurable, and, to terminate his
sufferings, the great geographer died by his own hand on September
25th. His father and brother had died in the same manner.

CORRESF ONDENCE,

233

CORRESPONDENCE.

CURIOUS MOUNDS IN CALIFORNIA.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

OX the stage-road from Mariposa to
Merced — a portion of the Yosemite
Valley route — for a distance of twenty miles,
the surface of the ground, as far as the eye
can see, is singularly characterized.

Circular elevations, like mammse, about
two feet high and twenty feet in diameter,
are divided by shallow ditches, or swales,
about ten feet wide. These mounds are sur-
prisingly symmetrical, and occupy the whole
surface. Where the rising ground meets the
sky, the outline is regularly scalloped. The
freshets have in some places cut through to
the depth of three feet, leaving the vertical
section exposed to view.

All the stones contained in the mounds
are rounded, and in size are from half an
inch to four inches iu diameter. None
larger were seen. The bottoms of the dry
water-courses are paved with these round
stones to a considerable depth, the largest
on top. For six inches in depth of the sur-
face of the mounds the soil is free of stones ;
below that, the stones are distributed with-
out much regard to size, the spectator being
impressed with the apparent fact that the
larger ones are nearer the surface.

Rising ground equally with level surface
is covered by these maramfe. In rare cases
are two mounds thrown together, so as to
interfere with the generally symmetrical ar-
rangement. A plausible explanation of the
cause of this phenomenon occurred to me :
After the surface had been smoothed, and
the large elevations rounded, by the moving
glacier, the ice-mass became stationary from
diminished thickness. The larger stones on
the surface would melt through, forming
funnel-shaped cavities, into which the water
on the surface of the glacier would pour
and run out at the bottom, leaving the ac-
companying dirt and gravel in a heap. But
this theory requires that the stones causing
the funnel-shaped cavities should be dis-
tributed on the surface of the glacier at uni-
form distances of twenty-five feet from each
other, which supposition is inadmissible.

I am constrained to ask for a proper in-
terpretation of the origin of this notable ar-
rangement. S. H. Mead.
Davenport, Iowa, July 11, 1878.

MUTILATIONS AND IIEEEDITT.

To tM Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

In January, 1875, \ bad a tortoise-
shell cat that lost her left fore-paw, as I

suppose, in a steel trap. About ten weeks
after this accident she had a litter of kit-
tens, and, one being a tortoise-shell, it was
saved. The first cat lived about a year.
In addition to her limping around on three
feet, she had a peculiar habit of holding up
the lame foot against her breast, as though
she was nursing it, and would frequently
come and touch me with it, looking up at
me with a pitiful expression on her face.
Last spring I obtained a tortoise-shell kit-
ten, a granddaughter of the lame one and a
daughter of the cat that was born after the
foot was hurt. Now, this kitten has the
habit of standing almost constantly on three
feet, holding the left one from the ground
(sometimes, but not often, she holds up the
right one), and she frequently holds it to
her breast, as though she were nursing it,
in exact imitation of her grandmother, the
lame one. She also has the habit of com-
ing up and touching me with her paw, put-
ting on the pitiful expression of counte-
nance that was observed on the face of her
ancestor. J. D. A.

Ceomwell, Connecticut, October 21, 1878.

DOES THE MICROPHONE MAGNIFY
SOUND ?

To the Editor of the Poptdar Science Monthly.

Sir : The account of the actual accom-
plishments of the microphone, in the way
of magnifying faint sounds, as communi-
cated to the Royal Society in May last, was
so astonishing that every one was led to
believe a scientific discovery of immense
value had been given to the world, con-
taining in embryo practical appUcations of
unbounded extent.

Not the least remarkable feature of this
discovery was the extreme simplicity of
the apparatus, thereby enabling the merest
dilettante to repeat the experiments detailed
in Prof Hughes's paper ; and I doubt not
that a number of experimenters have ex-
pended a good deal of time and patience in
endeavoring to develop these embryonic pos-
sibilities.

It is for the purpose of eliciting the
candid opinion of such workers, who may
have been more successful than I, that I
am induced, through the medium of your
valuable journal (while avoiding theoretical
considerations which have been exhaustively
discussed), to state very briefly the conclu-
sions that I have arrived at after a careful in-
vestigation with microphones of varied form :

1. The micropkone docs not magnify

234

THE POPULAR SCIJENCE MONTHLY.

sound, and we cannot expect it, " when
further developed by study, to do for us,
with regard to faint sounds, what the mi-
croscope does with matter too small for
human vision."

We cannot correctly regard the sound
heard in the telephone receiver as " a mag-
nified image " of the original vibrations ;
for, while the fundamental tone is repro-
duced with considerable accuracy, the har-
monics or overtones, giving the timbre, or
individuality to the sound, are in most
cases very imperfectly rendered.

2. If the ear is placed in as favorable
a position to hear the original faint vi-
brations (which jar the delicately-poised

piece of carbon) as it is when listening to
the telephone, it will be found that the in-
creased volume of sound issuing from the
diaphragm of the receiver is more imaginary
than real.

For these, and other reasons, the writer
is of the opinion that the probable future
value of this discovery has been greatly
exaggerated, and that it is likely to prove
an addition to the rather plentiful crop of
scientific green fruit which fails to ripen
into the full perfection so enthusiastically
predicted by the luxuriance of the blossoms.
Respectfully yours,

A. E. OUTERBRIDGE, Jr.,

Assay Laboratory U. S. Miut, Philadelphia.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

ELECTRIC ILLTIMINATION.

"^rOTIlING is more natural than that
-1-^ there should be great expectations
in the non-scientific mind in regard to
what electricity is destined to do for the
world in future — expectations which, on
the one hand, are grounded in reason,
and, on the other, are liable to the most
extravagant exaggeration. The mar-
velous things already accomplished by
means of this mysterious agent, as made
familiar in the electro-chemical indus-
tries, the telegraph, telephone, and elec-
trical illumination, have a tendency, of
course, to prepare the mind to look for
further unusual and astonishing results.
Just now a revolution in illumination is
widely anticipated, by which the com-
mon illuminants will be superseded in
the daily life of the people, through
improvements in the electrical light.
The probability of this important re-
sult is greatly increased, and is, indeed,
supposed to have become a certainty,
because electrical illumination is al-
ready an established fact on a large
scale, it having been used in light-
houses for years, and successfully in-
troduced into factories, depots, thea-
tres, and other places where large spaces
are to be illuminated. So much — the
main thing, and apparently everything
—being actually gained as a fact of
experience, the carrying out of the

invention into minor details is taken
as a foregone conclusion. In this state
of the public mind the announcement
of Mr. Edison — the foremost inventive
genius of the age — that he had actually
solved the problem which would make
electric illumination available for com-
mon household uses, was generally ac-
cepted as a matter of course, and sent
a tremor through the gas-stocks of the
world. Nevertheless, the desideratum
has not yet been reached, and, for
aught that actually appears, we are no
nearer this important consummation
than we were twenty years ago.

It may be well to remind the san-
guine believers in this unquestionably
most desirable improvement, of the
analogous excitement there was, some
thirty or forty years ago, in regard to
electricity as a motive power. A new
source of mechanical energy had been
discovered in electro-magnetism, which
was developed by appropriate ma-
chinery, so as to be capable of doing
all kinds of work. There was the ac-
complished fact, and buzz-saws were
driven through two-inch planks, before
astonished audiences, merely by bat-
teries in the cellar, connected with the
working-machine by conducting wires.
The steam-engine was threatened, and
we seemed to be on the eve of a new
epoch in the use of motive powers.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

235

When scientific men shook their heads
and said it would not do — that there
"were limits in the case which forbade
the expected progress, and tliat zinc
burned in batteries could not com-
pete with coal burned under the boil-
er— the replies were ready. First, did
not Dr. Lardner say that steam-navi-
gation across the Atlantic Avas imprac-
ticable? Second, was there any limit
to that power of which the lightning-
flash was an example? Third, if the
electro-magnetic engine was weak, was
it not also new, and who would pre-
sume to put restrictions upon man's
inventive genius, especially when the
main thing was already achieved, and
nothing remained but to work out the
minor improvements? The new mo-
tor, however, could not be made to
work, and so hopes were crushed, in-
vestments lost, and the excitement died
away.

The difficulty with the electric light,
which has hitherto defied resolution,
notwithstanding the efforts of experi-
menters for a generation, is that it can
only be realized under an intensity of
action that becomes far too expensive
for common use, where only a small
amount of illumination is required, A
brilliant light can be got from the elec-
tric current by the incandescence of
carbon or metallic particles, which will
flood great spaces with a vivid illu-
mination much cheaper than can be
done in any other way, but nobody has
yet been able to divide and distribute
this intense light so as to utilize it in
small amounts wherever wanted, at a
cost that can compete with the ordi-
nary sources of illumination. A well-
informed writer in a late issue of the
Kew York Sun gives the following in-
structive presentation of the present as-
pect of the subject :

"I judge that tho panic in gas-stocks,
which has been produced in great part by
the broad claims of Mr. Edison to the dis-
covery of a practicable method of subdivid-
ing the electric light, is, to say the least,
premature. Mr. Edison is now experiment-

ing with his light, and at latest accounts
had not solved all the problems involved.
The field in which he is laboring is an en-
tirely now one to liim, as the science of mag-
neto- or dynamo-electricity is far diflerent
from that of telegraphy or electro-magnet-
ism. There are problems involved, espe-
cially in the subdivision of the light, which
are far greater than any embodied in any
previous invention or improvement of Mr.
Edison. The scientific world has been la-
boring at it almost constantly sin«e King's
invention in 1848. In 1858 M. Jobart, of
Paris, made some very startling claims,
which were almost exactly the same as
those made by Edison, but continued ex-
periment exposed their fallacy.

" The principal difficulty to be overcome
is the lack of economy in any method of
producing light by electricity, except by tho
voltaic arc between carbon-points, and as
Mr. Edison disclaims this method, and lim-
its himself to the plan of incandescence, he
will find his path beset with difficulties in
this direction. This is shown by the well-
known fact that an electi'ical current of a
given strength will yield about ten times as
much light when used to produce the voltaic
arc between carbon-points as it could by be-
ing passed through a piece of platinum, bo
as to raise it to a white heat and give the
light. In some experiments recently made
in Paris by M. Fontaine, it was found that
a powerful battery of forty-eight elements
would produce in one lamp a light by in-
candescence equal to forty burners ; but
that, when the same current was used in two
lamps, the light in each was only three to
five burners, and, when divided between
three lamps, only one-quarter burner in
each. Further subdivision resulted in a
total extinction of tlie light. A similar re-
sult was reached whether the lamps were
placed in series in the same circuit or in de-
rived circuits. In using a dynamo-electric
machine in place of a battery as the source
of the electricity, the same difficulty would
present itself, with this additional one, that
whereas the electro-motive force of a battery
remains constant under all changes of resist-
ance, that of a machine does not, but de-
creases as the resistance increases.

" The writer has thoroughly investigated
the subject of electric light as an economical
subtitute for gas, and is entirely familiar
with all that has been accomplished here or
abroad in this direction. Abroad, by means
of the Gramme machine and the JablochkoflT
candle, sixteen lights of VOO-candlo power
each are produced from one machine, ab-

236

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sorbing sixteen-horse power. The candles
cost sixteen cents each, and burn an hour
and a lialf. Estimates of its cost vary from
one-half to three times the cost of gas. In
this country the field is occupied by several
kinds of apparatus. At the American Insti-
tute Fair are a number of Wallace machines,
furnishing in all nineteen lights, scattered
through the main building. Inquiry from
the engineer who cares for the engine driv-
ing these machines develops the fact that
not less than sixty-horse power is consumed
for these nineteen lights. In the machinery
halls four lights are used, furnished by a
Emsh machine absorbing seven-horse pow-
er. These are much steadier and pleasanter
to the eye than those in the main building.
The makers of the Brush machine claim that,
with a larger machine, absorbing twelve-
horse power, they can produce fifteen to
twenty lights of 2,000-candle power each,
thus considerably improving upon the
French system.

" Unless Mr. Edison can substantiate his
claims, and produce better results than are
given above — and there is not the slightest
evidence that he has actually done even as
much — the conclusion clearly reached is
this : that, for the lighting of dwellings and
all places where twenty or thirty or perhaps
forty gas-burners suffice, gas will hold its
own and still be the most economical light."

Upon the reception of the news in
England of what Mr. Edison had done
and proposed to do, there was pertur-
bation in gas-stocks, and the editor of
Nature writes as follows about it :

" Although a student of science will have
little difficulty in associating the results
promised with the discovery of perpetual
motion, it is quite probable that Mr. Edison
has actually succeeded in doing what he
states he has done in his telegram : ' I have
just solved the problem of the subdivision
of the electric light indefinitely.' "What we
wish to point out is, that it is one thing to
do this and another thing to produce an elec-
tric light for ordinary house and street use.
Once put the molecules of solid carbon in
motion, and, just because a solid is in ques-
tion, the light must be excessive and the
expenditure of energy must be considerable.

" While it is easy to believe that the fu-
ture may produce a means of illumination
midway between the electric light and gas,
it is equally easy to see that the thing is im-
possible without great waste, and therefore
cost, with dynamo-electric machines and

carbon-poles. So long as carbon is em-
ployed we shall have much light which, per-
haps, can be increased and steadied if vari-
ous gases and pressures are tried. But streets
and rooms full of such suns as these would
be unbearable unless we sacrifice much of
the light after we have got it. Split up the
current in the manner bo cheerfully de-
scribed by the New York paper, and tbe
carbon will refuse to flow altogether, if an
engine of6,000,000 horse-power be employed
instead of the modest one of 500 which is to
light the south part of the island. If Mr.
Edison has succeeded in replacing carbon
he may have turned the flank of the diffi-
culty to a certain extent.

" Gas companies may well begin to feel
uneasy at the general attention which is be-
ing drawn to the electric light as a substi-
tute for gas if they are prepared to let things
alone. That in one form or another it is
likely to be partially adopted in all large cit-
ies and at extensive public works seems most
likely. It will be one of the lights of the
future, but not to the excluding or supersed-
ing of gaslight.

" Our own columns have repeatedly
borne testimony to the success which has
attended its introduction into Paris, where
it is to be met witli at almost every corner,
and at one or more of the railway-stations.
The general testimony of those who are un-
prejudiced is, that at least for wide streets,
squares, and open places, its lighting efTect
is all that could be desired. Every Lon-
doner is fiimiliar with the efi"ect of the dis-
play which the enterprising Mr. HoUings-
head has placed in front of the Gaiety
Theatre, and the glowing contrast presented
to the miserable yellow flames of the neigh-
boring street-lamps ; but this contrast exists
because the gas is bad and dear. Mr. Hol-
lingshead, in a letter to the Daily News,
corrects the view of tiie gas companies, that
the electric light must necessarily cost more
to produce than gas. His own display, nec-
essarily wasteful, costs four-fifths what gas
would, and he is probably correct in saying
that with proper management it need not
cost more than one-half. Moreover, in yes-
terday's Times., Mr. E. J. Eeed refers to the
case of M. E. Manchon, a large manufacturer
at Eouen, who had gone to considerable ex-
pense to alter his premises to suit the elec-
tric light, and who, even with hired engine-
power, finds that there is an annual saving
of 22.6 per cent, over gas, with infinitely
better light and a wholesome atmosphere.
Mr. Eeed is of opinion that, even if the elec-
tric light cost more than gas, its advantages

EDITOR'S TABLE.

237

are so great that, for the lighting of puWic
phices, museums, art - galleries, manutac-
tories, etc., he would advocate its general
introduction. Even Madrid, one of the
most backward cities in Europe, has intro-
duced the light, one great benefit of which,
especially in theatres and other much-fre-
quented places, is that the heat generated
and the contamination of the air are greatly
less than in the case of gas.

"Let the directors of gas companies do
all they can to improve their cts. They
may be certain that it will never cease to be
required ; a considerable splitting up of the
electric current is impossible, while the
brilliant liglit that we shall always get
when electricity is employed will gradually
so raise the pitch of illumination that more
gas than ever will be used."

VANDERBILT UyiYEESITY AGAIN.

CoMMODOEE Vandeebilt built wiser
than lie knew in rearing a university at
Nashville for the benefit of the Tennes-
see Methodists, as it is obvious they
stand in sore need of education. The Ten-
nessee Conference, meeting in Clarks-
ville in the middle of October, went
into the question of education through
the report of a special committee, which
may thus fairly be taken as indicating
the high-water mark of the intelligence
and Uberality reached by that denomi-
nation, in that State, upon that subject.
The result shows that the region is
excellent missionary - groimd for the
schoolmaster. It is hardly to be sup-
posed that the inferior schools will be
in advance of the higher institutions ;
and this interests us in what they have
to say regarding the character of their
new university. The conference ap-
plauds it in unmeasured terms, and calls
especial attention to the remarkable in-
tellectual influence exerted upon the
nascent Tennessee mind by Commo-
dore Vanderbilt's building. They say,
" There is an immense educating power
in the surpassing beauty of the grounds,
the finished elegance of the building,
and all that pertains to it." Of this we
do not complain. It is indeed ascribing

more educational potency to stocks and
stones than has been our wont, and
leaves Buckle with his " Aspects of Na-
ture," and Spencer with his " environ- •
ments," far behind ; but the conference
might well indulge in a little exaggera-
tion out of compliment to the sagacity
of the learned and pious founder of the
establishment, which could exert this
" immense educating power " even be-
fore its doors were opened. And it
becomes a serious question whether
the authorities of the institution might
not better have trusted entirely to this
silent tuition of structure and surround-
ings, and not have undertaken to super-
add any influences from within. The
educational work of Commodore Van-
derbilt's architects and landscape-gar-
deners, whether slight or " immense,"
is at all events real, honest, and un-
perverted, which is a good deal more
than can be said of the backward and be-
nighted inculcations that are dispensed
by the living vocal teachers. We gave
an illustration not long ago of the big-
otry and intolerance exhibited by the
authorities of Vanderbilt University in
abruptly dismissing from his position
an able professor of science because he
taught the present state of knowledge
upon the subject confided to his charge.
He reported what Science has to say at
the present time concerning the anti-
quity and history of the ancient races
of men, and, as this was supposed to
conflict with certain old theological dog-
mas held dear by the Tennessee Meth-
odists, he was summarily ejected from
his professorial chair. The proceeding
was evidently in imitation of very ob-
solete precedents, but it proved highly
gratifying to the Tennessee Conference.
They say :

" The university has afforded us intense
gratification by its recent action. This is
the age in which scientific atheism, having
divested itself of the habiliments that most
adorn and dignify humanity, walks abroad
in shameless denudation. The arrogant and
impertinent claims of this science, falsely
so called, have been so boisterous and per-

238

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

sistent tliat the unthinking masses have
been sadly deluded. But our university-
alone has had the courage to lay its young
bat vigorous hand upon the mane of un-
tamed speculation and say : ' We will have
no more of this. Science we want, no crude,
undigested theories for the sons of our pa-
trons. Science we must have, science we
intend to have, but we want only science
clearly demonstrated, and we have great
cause to rejoice in this step, for it deals
a blow the force of which scientific athe-
ism will find it exceedingly difficult to
break.' "

If any one doubts tliat tliere is a
crying need of the elementary school-
master in Tennessee, tlie literary quality
of tliis official utterance in behalf of a
great university will probably be suffi-
cient to settle the matter. But the
passage has a more serious aspect. In
the announcement for 1878-'T9, the
first purpose of Vanderbilt University
is stated to be the " protection of the
morals " of youth during the period of
their pupilage. "We respectfully suggest
that this protection is equally needed
for the clergymen of the Tennessee Con-
ference, who seem to have not even a
rudimentary conception of the immo-
rality of falsehood and slander. Dr.
Winchell, an eminent geologist and sci-
entific scholar, and also a man of known
religious character, who had freely pub-
lished his views and had been but re-
cently chosen as a member of the faculty
of the institution, was displaced from
his position because the authorities did
not agree with all his views ; and the
Methodist Conference of the State " re-
joices " and expresses its "intense grati-
fication " at this blow dealt at " scien-
tific atheism." Dr. Winchell is thus
branded with a false and libelous charge
by a body of religious teachers which
pretends to commend the university as
a protector of morals ! It is bad enough
for the institution to have to stand the
consequences of its bigotry and intoler-
ance in this age of growing liberaliza-
tion, but it might well have been spared
this official defense of the denomina-
tion to which it belongs.

nUXLEY Oy TEE RIGHTS OF AUTUOBS.

The unsettled state of copyright
legislation and the progress of commu-
nistic ideas in relation to literary prop-
erty give interest to all intelligent dis-
cussion of the nature and extent of
literary rights. We last month gave
the evidence of Prof. Tyndall before
the English copyright commission on
this subject, and we now follow it by
that of Prof. Huxley to the same pur-
pose. The commission had various
practical things before it, but it gave
thorough attention to the fundamental
question of the basis of property in
published works, and in this Ameri-
cans are quite as much interested as the
English.

The testimony furnished to our read-
ers was elicited by a systematic attempt
so to undermine the rights of authors
to their books as substantially to break
them down. Several able men con-
nected with the copyright commission,
either as members of it or as witnesses
before it, took the ground that liter-
ary property is not like other property,
and differs from it in such a manner
that Government may interfere to reg-
ulate it in a way that amounts to the
subversion of it. They say that, as long
as an author keeps his book to him-
self, he owns it ; but when he publishes
it he parts with it, he surrenders it, and
the public then become its owner, and
Government may properly appoint an
agent to take charge of it and do with
it as the authorities please. Unwilling
to push the doctrine to the logical ex-
treme of barefaced, downright commu-
nism, by stripping the author clean of
his property, these parties maintained
that government should merely enter
into its possession and manage it for
him, allowing him such fraction of the
profits as it pleased. In lieu of the ex-
isting copyright, by which an author
makes such a bargain with the pub-
lisher as suits both parties, they pro-
posed what is called a "royalty" sys-
tem, by which anybody who pleases

LITERARY NOTICES.

239

may print an author's work, by paying
him a small percentage, to be deter-
mined by the politicians. That depart-
ment of Government in England which
is specially charged with the adminis-
tration of copyrights is the Board of
Trade, and its secretary, Mr. T. H. Far-
rer, was a member of the commission,
and came forward as the chief cham-
pion of the royalty scheme. lie took
the ground that the existing copyright
is a monopoly which it is for the inter-
est of society to destroy, and that the
royalty system is called for by the
principles of free trade. His main co-
adjutors in managing the case were
Sir Henry Drummond Wolff and Sir
Louis Mallet, whose position on the
subject of copyright was commented
upon in the September Monthly. It
is a credit to the authorities by whom
the commission was constituted, that
it was made so broad as to bring out
the opponents of copyright in all their
strength, and give them every chance
to make the best case possible; and
that their report embodied sound and
conservative recommendations is no
doubt largely owing to the ability of
such testimony as that herewith pub-
lished from Prof. Huxley. We shall
next month give the interesting evi-
dence of Herbert Spencer before the
commission.

LITERARY NOTICES.

All akouxd the House ; or, How to make

Homes happy. By Mrs. H. W. Beecher.

New York: D. Appleton & Co. Pp.461.

Price, $1.50.

Mp.s. Beecher's new book, as its title
happily imports, is devoted to the general
interests of the household, and not to any
one of its specialties. It is a result of the
writer's observation and experience, which
have beea very considerable, and it may be
said to correspond to those important books
put forth by physicians of large opportuni-
ties under the title of " Practice ; " so that, as
we have Fergusson's " Practice of Surgery,"

we may bo also said to have Mrs. Beech-
er's " Domestic Practice." She speaks as a
working housekeeper who has had varied
trial in the administration of home affairs,
and her book is full of useful instruction
and wise common-sense, which cannot fail
to be valuable to those of her sex who are
entering upon the duties and responsibilities
of family management, and who have any
solicitude about doing their work well. We
are glad to see that Mrs. Beecher is thor-
oughly unbued with the true spirit of her
subject. She has an elevated ideal of what
a home should be ; she understands that it
cannot be realized without effort, capacity,
and preparation, and keenly realizes how
httle there is done in any thorough or com-
prehensive way to qualify woman for intel-
ligent or eflficient activity in the domestic
sphere.

It is certainly a painful reflection that
of all the vocations which human beings
pursue, in these times of abounding educa-
tion, none are entered upon so lightly, so
carelessly, and with such an utter absence
of all adequate qualification, as that of
housekeeping, or, as Mrs. Beecher signifi-
cantly puts it, of " home-makinrj ; " while, of
all the sources of human misery, there is
none that yields a more copious measure of
wretchedness than the incapacity of woman
to take judicious and inteUigent charge of
household affairs. Everything else must be
prepared for, but " home-making " is thought
to need no serious preparation. Yet the in-
terests involved are to the last degree varied,
complex, and delicate, requiring knowledge,
tact, judgment, patience, in fact the highest
accomplishments of character. The mter-
ests of the office, the counting-house, the
school, are simplicity itself compared with
those of the household, where diet, cloth-
ing, health, the management of children,
the control of servants, the duties of hos-
pitality, and the direction of many stubborn
elements, demand intellectual and moral
attributes of the highest order on the part
of the heads of the house, and in a sphere
which mainly belongs to woman. And yet
this is the one and almost the only depart-
ment of our social activity for which no
preliminary training is provided in any sys-
tematic way. The doctor, the lawyer, the
clergyman, the miner, the farmer, and even

240

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the accountant, the dentist, and the farrier,
each has his college, but wliere is the col-
lege for the " home-maker ? " Its necessity
is not even perceived. The women are try-
ing with might and main to get into nearly
all the colleges that have grown up as prep-
arations for the business of men, and, when
they attempt to make one of their own, they
are content to imitate as far as possible those
of the opposite sex, and never think of de-
manding institutions in which they may be
educated for that line of activity which the
great majority of them are destined to pur-
sue.

Mrs, Bcecher sees clearly enough that
the modern tendency of feminine culture is
not in the direction of home improvement,
and that whatever is done in the way of
help to this end must come in the shape of
such occasional contributions as ladies in-
terested in the subject are prompted to
offer. She has a chapter on " Home Col-
leges," which is an excellent idea, as nothing
better is yet to be had, while her volume
will serve as an admirable text-book for it.
The work is well suited where the class-drill
is not very severe, being lively and interest-
ing in its manner, as well as useful and in-
structive in the information it gives. We
have read it through with profit, and cor-
dially recommend it to everybody who lives
in a house — especially if it has a plurality
of occupants. If the hundred pages of re-
ceipts at the close (which are no doubt in
themselves excellent) were omitted, the vol-
ume would make a first-rate reading-book
for girls' schools.

United States Commission of Fish and
Fisheries. Report for 1875-'76. Wash-
ington : Government Printing-Ofiice. Pp.
1079. 1S76.

In the popular mind, the sole aim and
object of the United States Commission of
Fish and Fisheries is to devise and apply
measures for the increase of the fish-supply
in our lakes, rivers, and smaller streams;
but in fact the commission is also charged
with the duty of promoting by its researches
the interest of the sea-fisheries, and hence
it is that much of the present volume — in-
deed, by far the greater part of it — is taken
up with an historical and statistical account
of the American whale-fishery. We are in-
clined to think that it would be best to re-

strict the labors of the commission to the
one department of propagation of food-
fishes. The " History of American Whal-
ing " is no doubt very interesting and valu-
able, but it has no organic relation to the
work of the Fish Commission. The com-
missioner, Prof. Baird, in the report proper,
first briefly rehearses the history of the com-
mission ; then details the results of the in-
quiries that have been made into the de-
crease of the food-fishes ; next he reviews the
work that has been done in the propaga-
tion of food-fishes ; and, finally, gives tables
showing the number of fish distributed by
the commission since the beginning of its
work. Then follows Appendix A (780
pages), on the " American Whale-Fishery."
Appendix B, " The Inland Fisheries," com-
prises reports on " The Fisheries of Chicago
and Vicinity," on " The Salmon-Fisheries
of the Columbia," and "Notes on some
Fishes of the Delaware." There are five
papers in Appendix C, treating of the carp,
the shad, the Schoodic salmon, salmon-breed-
ing in the McCloud River, and the exporta-
tion of fishes and hatching apparatus to
various foreign countries.

The Life of George Combe. By Charles
Gibbon. London : Macmillan & Co.
2 vols. Pp. 739. Price, $8.

It may be thought that an elaborate
two-volume biography, issued twenty years
after the death of its subject, whose chief
claim to be remembered is the close asso-
ciation of his name with a science which is
now generally considered as belonging to
the past, must rank as a not very judicious
literary venture. No doubt a smaller and
more inexpensive work would have had a
wider sale, yet it is better that the work
should have been done just as it has been
done. While merely because he was an
eminent phrenologist it would not have been
worth while to write Combe's life at all, yet
as the author of the " Constitution of Man,"
and as the representative of a transition pe-
riod in knowledge and education, and as giv-
ing us an account of a very interesting char-
acter, the biography deserved to be fully
written out. That Combe regarded phre-
nology as the key to all knowledge, that
he devoted himself to it with great assidu-
ity, and applied it everywhere as a sufiScient

LITERARY NOTICES.

241

philosophy of human nature, are by no
means the real grounds on which he is en-
titled to be remembered. Phrenology rep-
resented a mere point of view from which
humanity was to be studied, and that point
of view was the true one, and a great ad-
vance on all previous systems. Phrenology
was the rude means of first bringing men-
tal phenomena into relation with organiza-
tion, in the popular thought. It was almost
inevitable that the first theories of this re-
lation should be deficient and erroneous;
but, the attitude taken being correct, valu- -
able results flowed from it. It is on ac- I
count of his views and reformatory labors !
regarding education, the treatment of the
insane, the true principles of prison disci-
pline, and the emancipation of the masses
from social and religious prejudices, that
Mr. Combe deserves to be gratefully and
honorably remembered, and in this respect
his biography is of living and permanent
interest.

Deterioration and Race Education ; with
Practical Applications to the Condi-
tion or THE People and Industry. By
Samuel Royce. Boston : Lee & Shep-
ard. Pp. 685. Price, $2.50.

We noticed this instructive work upon
its first appearance last year, and are glad
to see that it has gone to a second edition,
as it contains a great deal of information,
bearing upon the subject of education, that
cannot be found compiled and digested else-
where. Mr. Royce views the subject in its
broadest aspects, laying great stress upon
those forces in society which lead to pau-
perism and physical, mental, and moral de-
generacy, and it is as a corrective of these
evil tendencies that he chiefly regards the
subject of education. The fundamental
idea of his work, illustrated and enforced
by numerous facts and copious discussion,
is that the great deficiency in our system
of mental cultivation is the non-recognition
of the element of industry. In the new
edition of the book he has added nearly one
hundred pages, designed to give increasing
effect to this aspect of his general argument.
In the first place he demands that educa-
tion shall include learning to work or an
actual preparation for industrial occupa-
tions. He appreciates and favors the Kin-
dergarten as the first step in this direction,
VOL. XIV. — 16

to be followed up by developing schools
and technical institutions to teach the prac-
tice as well as the elementary principles of
various mechanical trades. He gives an
interesting account of several industrial
schools and manual institutes, chiefly in
New England, which have for their object
the training of the young in the skillful and
intelligent exercise of hand - labor. Mr.
Royce points out the vicious and lamenta-
ble influence of the existing system of edu-
cation, in disqualifying the young for enter-
ing upon industrial occupations, by present-
ing false ideas of life through the excessive
and one-sided influence of literature and
books alone. It is not the worst, he thinks,
that working-studies are ignored, but that
in our existing schools there arises a preju-
dice against manual labor, a contempt of it,
and an ambition to get a living by head-
work in the practice of the professions.
Thousands upon thousands who can never
enter the professions, and who have not
intellectual faculty enough to win success
in life by pure intellectual labor, are never-
theless set upon this track, and unfitted for
the honest and efficient pursuit of industrial
avocations. Want of space prevents our
giving several important quotations from
this part of Mr. Royce's book, which readers
specially interested in the subject will find
it useful to procure.

Superstition in All Ages. By John Mes-
lier. Translated from the French by
Miss Anna Knoop. New York : Liberal
Publishing Co., 141 Eighth Street. Pp.
339. Price, $1.50.

The author of this curious book was
born in 1678, in the French village of Ma-
zerny, and died in 1733, at the age of fifty-
five. He has, therefore, been dead nearly
one hundred and fifty years ; and, although
his name is not to be found in any of our
common cyclopasdias, his book, the only
one that he ever wrote, is now first trans-
lated into English, and is published in the
United States.

Meslier was a Roman Catholic priest,
and was for thirty years curate of Entre-
pigay in Champagne. There is a brief
sketch of his life by Voltaire prefixed to
the volume, from which we gather that he
was a quiet, studious man, of a philosophic
turn of mind, who at the seminary devoted

242

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

himself to the system of Descartes. He is
said to have been strictly just and warmly
benevolent, attending regularly and faith-
fully to his clerical duties, and at the end
of each year giving what remained of his
salary to the poor of his parish.

The following incident is recorded as
illustrative of his character ; " The lord of
his village, M. de Touilly, having ill-treated
some peasants, he refused to pray for him
in his service. M. de Mailly, Archbishop
of Eheims, before whom the case was
brought, condemned him. But, the Sunday
which followed this decision, the Abbot
Meslier stood in his pulpit and complained
of the sentence of the cardinal. ' This is,'
said he, ' the general fate of the poor coun-
try priest ; the archbishops, who are great
lords, scorn them, and do not listen to them.
Therefore, let us pray for the lord of this
place. We will pray for Antoine de Touilly,
that he may be converted, and granted the
grace that he may not wrong the poor and
despoil the orphans.' His lordship, who
was present at this mortifying supplication,
brought more complaints before the same
archbishop, who ordered the curate Meslier
to come to Douchey, where he ill-treated
him with abusive language."

So there was nothing remai'kable or un-
usual about the outward career of this coun-
try preacher that was not suitable to be
immediately buried in oblivion. But he had
been long and quietly at work in a way that
was calculated to give interest and notoriety
to his name after he had finally left the scene
of his labors, where he died in the odor of
sanctity. Meslier, it must be said, to the
great scandal of his name, did not believe in
the theology that he preached. But he lived
in times in which men were not very pow-
erfully solicited to express their indepen-
dent opinions, and, as Meslier said he did
not want to be burned alive on account of
what he thought, he prudently followed the
example of Copernicus and postponed pub-
lishing his real views till after he was out
of the way. When Meslier was gone, there
was found in his house a manuscript volume
entitled " Common-Sense," written in his
hand, and addressed as " My Testament ". to
his parishioners. The book was printed, and
went through various editions in the eigh-
teenth century, and it is this which is now

revised and translated by Miss Knoop. Of
its quality the reader can judge from a re-
mark of Voltaire in a letter to D'Alembert,
which is as follows : " They have printed
in Holland the Testament of Jean Mesher ;
I trembled with horror in reading it. The
testimony of a priest who, in dying, asks
God's pardon for having taught Christian-
ity, must be a great weight in the balance
of liberals. I will send you a volume of
this testament of the anti-Christ, because
you desire to refute it."

We have not read this book, and are,
therefore, unable to form a critical judg-
ment of it ; but Mr. James Parton writes
to its translator concerning it as follows :
" The work of the honest pastor, Jean
Meslier, is the most curious and the most
powerful thing of the kind which the last
century produced. Thomas Paine's 'Age
of Reason ' is mere milk-and-water to it,
and Voltaire's ' Philosophical Dictionary '
is a basket of champagne compared with a
cask of fourth-proof brandy. Paine and
Voltaire had reserves, but Jean Meslier had
none. He keeps nothing back ; and yet,
after all, the wonder is not that there should
have been one priest who left that testi-
mony at his death, but that all priests do
not. True, there is a great deal more to be
said about religion, which I believe to be an
eternal necessity of human nature, but no
man has uttered the negative side of the
matter with so much candor and complete-
ness as Jean Meslier. You have done a
virtuous and humane act in translating his
book so well."

The American Antiquarian : A Quarterly
Journal devoted to early American His-
tory, Ethnology, and Archseology. Ed-
ited by Rev. Stephen D. Peet, Fnion-
ville, Ohio. Cleveland, Ohio : Published
by Brooks, Schinkel & Co. Price, §2 a
year, or 50 cents a number.

The rapid growth of the biological sci-
ences, initiated by the publication of the
" Origin of Species " nearly twenty years
ago, has brought into especial prominence
the great questions of the origin, antiquity,
and development of man; and from sub-
jects of theological speculation has trans-
formed them into well-recognized problems
of physical science. All the various lines

LITERARY NOTICES.

243

of biological inquiry converge in this direc-
tion; and, as pointed out by Prof. Huxley
in his address on " The Progress of An-
thropology," published in the October num-
ber of this journal, that science has already
gained a well-established place, counts
among its numerous workers a large num-
ber of eminent men, and promises to re-
main, for many years to come, the chief
centre of scientific interest in all countries
where science is cultivated.

Up to within a few years most of the
work in this department has been done
abroad, and the Anthropological Societies
of Paris, London, and Berlin, each with its
special organ for making known the fruits
of research, and with a large and distin-
guished membership, show the wise provi-
sions that have been made for the prosecu-
tion of future investigations.

Although commonly spoken of as the
" New World," it is becoming daily more
apparent that this continent has had a past
that is full of interest for the archsologist
and ethnologist, and out of which much is
yet to be gathered that will throw light on
the interesting problems involved. Ameri-
can investigators are already numerous,
and the publication before us meets an im-
portant want, in supplying an authoritative
medium for the announcement of discov-
eries, the discussion of new views, and the
presentation of the results of American re-
search. The broad ground it is intended
to cover is thus stated in the prospectus :

"The Early History, Esploration, Discov-
eries, and Settlement of the difl'erent portions
of the Continent.

" The Native Races, their Physical and Men-
tal Traits, Social Organizations and Tribal Dis-
tinctions ; their Religious Customs, Beliefs, and
Traditions, as well as their earlier and later Mi-
grations and changes.

"The Antiquities of America, especially the
Prehistoric Relics and Remains, or any evi-
dences as to Ancient Earthworks and Struct-
ures, Inscriptions, Hieroglyphics, Signs, and
Symbols.

"Prehistoric Man, his Origin, Antiquity,
Geological Position, and Physical Structure.

" The Antiquarian will also treat of subjects
of a more general character, such as The De-
scent of Man, The Rise of Society. The Origin
of Writing, The Growth of Language, The His-
tory of Architecture, The Evolution of Orna-
ment, and Ceremonial Observances, Compara-
tive Religions, Serpent-Worship and Religions
Symbols, Man and the Mastodon, Man and Ani-
mals, Earth and Man, and many other topics

which are connected with the Science of An-
thropology, especially as they are viewed by the
antiquarian.

" Besides these topics especial arrangements
have been made by which articles will be con-
tributed upon Archseological Relics, upon Abo-
riginal Languages and Dialects, and upon the
Traditions of this Continent compared with
those of other lands.

" The Investigations made by different His-
torical and Scientific Societies, as well as the
Results of all Explorations and Discoveries, wiU
also be reported as far as possible.

" In the editorial management the assistance
of several prominent gentlemen has been se-
cured."

The present number contains nine arti-
cles, all of them on topics of interest, and
several finely illustrated. There is also a
valuable editorial department, made up of
contributions from several distinguished
writers besides the editor-in-chief The
magazine is a credit to American science,
and deserves to be well sustained.

The Parks and Gardens op Paris. Con-
sidered in Relation to the Wants of oth-
er Cities, and of Public and Private
Gardens. By W. Robinson, F. L. S.
Second edition, revised. Illustrated.
London : Macmillan & Co. Pp. 548.
Price, $7.50.

The object of this work is to acquaint
the reader with those important points of
general public gardening, and of fruit and
vegetable culture, in which France is in ad-
vance of other countries. The author, who
has traveled extensively and given prolonged
and careful attention to the subjects treated,
looks upon English agriculture and rural
affairs in general as far before those of
France, yet in many important matters he
shows that there is much to be learned of
the French. The first half of the book is
devoted to the parks and gardens in' and
about Paris, and to the squares, avenues,
boulevards, and other improvements, of
new Paris. In his criticisms, the aim of
the author has been " not only to record
and illustrate what is good in them, but
also to point out what is harmful." While
he finds much to learn and much to ad-
mire in their public grounds, yet of the
cemeteries he says that " their best aspects
are painful to any one who knows what is
possible, or what has already been accom-
plished in the formation of decent burial-
grounds near large cities." After a most

244

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

revoltiBg account of the mode of burial of
the poor in Pfere-Lachaise, the statement
follows that " the Americans are the only
people who bury their dead decently and
beautifully — that is, so far as the present
mode of sepulture will allow them. For
beauty, extent, careful planting, picturesque
views and keeping, the garden cemeteries
formed within the past generation near all
the principal American cities are a great
advance upon anything of the kind in Eu-
rope."

In horticulture the questions discussed
are such as the skillful cultivation of hardy
fruit-trees, which has made fruit so good
and plentiful in France, and has led to its
large exportation ; the remarkable culture of
asparagus, by which it is grown so abundant-
ly that for many weeks in the spring it is an
article of popular consumption ; Parisian
mushroom-culture; lettuce-growing in win-
ter and spring in the suburbs of Paris, by
a method so successful that they are able
to supply their own market and that of
many other cities. When these tender let-
tuces are eaten in winter, in England, they
are supposed to come from some soft south-
ern climate, while in fact they grow in a
climate as harsh as that of England. The
various processes by which these results
are gained are minutely described, and
every page of the volume is full of interest
and instruction. There are 538 superb il-
lustrations, many of which, in the chapters
upon the parks and gardens, are full-page
views of scenery and architecture.

Tribes op California. By Stephen Pow-
er. Washington : Government Priuting-
Office. Pp. 635. 18'7'7.

The aborigines of California differ from
the Atlantic tribes in sundry essential pai"-
ticulars, but most of all, perhaps, in their
unwarlike temper. They are a humble and
lowly race, one of the fowest on earth ;
yet the story of their lives might convey to
more favored races many a lesson of thrift,
contentment, and even of manly virtue. The
author has lived among these Indians for
three years, studying their manners and
customs with intelligent sympathy, and his
book is full of most curious information
concerning their social, political, and relig-
ious usages. We must not omit to add that

the work evinces in Mr. Power no mean
degree of literary skill ; hence it is " as in-
teresting as a romance." It is illustrated
with a number of excellent plates. There
is an appendix on " Linguistics," by Major
Powell (of whose " Contributions to North
American Ethnology " this work forms Vol.
III.), containing comparative vocabularies
of the various dialects spoken by the native
races of California. The large map which
accompanies the volume shows the distribu-
tion of the different tribes throughout the
State.

American Colleges : Their Students and
Work. By Charles H. Thwing. G. P.
Putnam's Sons. Pp. 169. Price, $1.

This is a carefully-digested and useful
little volume, giving a great deal of informa-
tion in relation to American collegiate insti-
tutions. It treats of " Expenses," " Morals,"
" Religion," "Societies," "Athletics," "Col-
lege Journalism," "Fellowships," " Chairs of
a College," and " Rank in College as a Test
of Distinction."

A Dictionary of Music and Musicians.
Edited by George Grove. Part IV.
Macmillan & Co. Price, $1.25.

This number runs from " Concert-Spi-
rituel" to " Ferrara," and, like the former
numbers, is full of musical science, art, eru-
dition, and biography. The work improves
with every number.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

Sanitary Examination of Water, Air, and
Food. By Dr. Cornelius B. Fox. Philadelphia :
Lindsay & Biakiston. 1878. Pp. 528.

Life in other Worlds. By Dr. Adam Miller.
Chicago : Fox, Cole & Co. 1878. Pp. 283. $1.50.

The Old House altered. By George C. Ma-
son. Nc'w York : Putnam's Sons. 1878. Pp.
179. $2.50.

The Proportions of the Steam-Engine. By
William D. Marks. Philadelphia : J. B. Lip-
pincott & Co. 1879. Pp. 161.

How to parse. Bv Rev. Edwin A. Abbott.
Boston : Pvoberts Brothers. 1878. Pp. 374. $1.

Introductory Chemical Practice. By G. C.
Caldwell and A. A. Breneman. New York : Van
Nostrand. 1878. Pp. 170. $1-50.

ZoOlosry of the Vertebrate Animals. By Dr.
Alexander Macalister. New York : Holt & Co.
1878. Pp. 146. 60 cents.

Outline? of Ontological Science. By H. N.
Day. New York : Putnam's Sons. 1878. Pp.
452. $1.75.

The Blessed Bees. By J. Allen. Pp.169. $1.

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY.

H5

Flower Painting. Same publishers. Pp. 40. 50
cents.

A New Exposition of the Leading Facts of
Geology. By Gideon Frost. Kew York. 1869.
Pp. 80.

American Quarterly Microscopical Journal.
Edited by Romeyn Hitchcock. Vol. I., No. 1.
New York : Hitchcock & Wall. 1878. Pp. 98.
$3 per year.

The Brain and Nervous System. By Dr. J.
C. Reeve. Dayion, 0\i.\o : Democrat ■pYiui. 1878.
Pp. 33.

Maximum Stresses of Framed Bridges. By
William Cain. Hand-book of the Electro-Mag-
netic Telegraph. By A. E. Lorini;. New York :
Van Nostrand. 1878. Pp. 19i. 50 cents each.

Report of the Engineer of the Philadelphia
Water Department. Philadelphia: Markley &
Son print. 1878. Pp. 96, with Charts.

Ventral Pins of Ganoids. By James K.
Thaclier. From '• Transactions of Connecticut
Academy." Pp. 10, witli Plates.

Life and Scientific Work of Charles Freder-
ick Hartt. By Eichard Rathbun. From " Pro-
ceedings of the Boston Society of Natural His-
tory. 1878." Pp. 27.

The Cambridge Boiler Explosion. By J. R.
Robinson. Boston: A. Williams & Co. 1878.
Pp. 40.

The Indian Question. By General Pope. Pp.
31.

An Animated Molecule. Bv Dr. Daniel Clark.
Utica: E. H. Roberts & Co. "print. 1878. Pp.
42.

Hygiene of the Eyes. By Dr. F. Park Lewis.
Pp.8.

Artificial Mounds of Northeastern Iowa. By
VV. J. McGee. From American Journal of Sci-
ence. Pp. 7.

The Food of Illinois Fishes. By S. A. Forbes.
From ■' Bulletin of Illinois State Laboratory of
Natural History." Pp. 16.

Median and Paired Fins. By J. K. Thacher.
From " Transactions of Connecticut Academy."
1S77. Pp. 30, with numerous Plates.

Recording Articulate Vibrations. By E. W.
Blake, Jr. From American Journal of Science.
Pp.6.

The Religion of Philosophj'. By W. H.
Bough ton. Pp. 19.

On Repulsion resulting from Radiation. By
William Crookes, F. R. !S. From •' Transactions
of the Royal Society." 187S. Pp. 76.

An Elementary Course of Geometrical Draw-
ing. Bv George L. Vose. Boston : Lee & She-
pard. 1878. Thirty-eight Plates. $5.

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

A Hairy Water-Tortoise. — The following
interesting bit of natural history is from
the pen of Mr. Frank Buckland, in Land
and Water: "Through the kindness of Mr.
White, son of the late lord-mayor, I am en-
abled to give a representation of a most
interesting little creature which he himself
brought from China. It is a terrapin, or
water-tortoise, which apparently has hairs
growing out from its back. When it first
arrived it seemed very unwell, and I do not

wonder, for the poor little thing had not had
anything to eat for some months. Knowing
it was very intolerant of cold, I placed it in
warm water, and kept it in a warm place,
and the little thing shortly, to my delight,
began to feed from my hand. It will snap at
and devour little bits of meat, fish, shrimps,
»etc. As the little animal swims, the fibre
of the vegetable growth hangs away from
him so as to give him the appearance of an
aninjated bunch of weeds. His face is very
intelligent.

" Among the collection of Chinese and
Japanese bronzes, drawings, pottery, etc., I
have observed representations of various
monsters, and among them those of tortoises
with long tails. It now is certain from this
specimen, so kindly given me by Mr. White,
that the Chinese really have in their aqua-
ria terrapins covered with this remarkable
growth. If the hairy terrapins of the Chi-
nese artists be founded oji actual living
specimens, may it not be possible that other
of these well-known monstrosities — such as
dragons — may have their origin from tradi-
tions, or may be late survivals of such creat-
ures as the plesiosaurus, etc. ? I have read
somewhere that the Chinese are the direct
descendants of Noah, and that when Shem,
Ham, and Japheth, went respectively north,
south, and west, Noah himself went east,
and founded the great Chinese nation. Cer-
tain it is that they have traditions of birds
and animals totally unknown to the present
inhabitants of the earth. I do not know
whether the growth upon this terrapin's
back has been produced artificially or natu-
rally. It is simply a water-grass, something
like the weedy material growing on decay-
ing wood-work and lock-gates of rivers. It
is possible that the ingenious Chinese may
have some way of doctoring up the living
specimens of terrapins, of which I under-
stand considerable numbers exist in the
ditches and marshes of China. These Chi-
nese, as we are all aware, are stated to have
the art of making the large fresh-water pearl-
bearing mussels secrete pearls, and cover
over metal images placed within the shells
for that purpose. If they can do this with
the pearl shell, I do not see that it is impos-
sible for them to make this vegetable mate-
rial grow upon the back of a tortoise.

" In 1873 Mr. Sandilands kindly gave m6

246

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

one of these hairy terrapins, and upon that
occasion a correspondent, ' A. B.,' kindly
sent me the following note : ' In the " Trav-
els of a Pioneer of Commerce in Pigtail and
Petticoats," by T. T. Cooper (London, Mur-
ray, 18*71, page 459), there is a plate of one
of these hairy tortoises from the lakes of
Ha-su, above Hankow. These curious little.

animals were about two inches long, and
covered on the back with a long confervoid
growth resembling hair. The tortoise being
a sacred emblem in China, the Chinese make
pets of the hairy tortoise, which they keep
in basins of water during the summer
months, and bury in sand during the winter.
A small lake in the province of Kiang-su is

The Hairy Water-Tortoise.

famous for these so-called hairy tortoises,
and many persons earn a livelihood by the
sale of these curious little pets. The figure
in Mr. Cooper's book looks like an oval
door-mat with a tortoise-head sticking out
at one end.'

" I have been to the British Museum to
see if I could find anything like this hairy
terrapin, but could not do so. I shall take
the liberty of forwarding this article to his
Excellency the Chinese embassador, who, I
have no doubt, with his usual kindness, will
obtain some further information about this
great curiosity."

Splder-Arfhitectnre. — The snare of the
basilica spider would form an interesting
object of study for the architect. In it he
will find many a difficult problem of con-
structive science happily solved, and it may
be derive useful hints to guide him in
the construction of more substantial edi-
fices. As described in the " Proceedings of
the Academy of Natural Sciences," of Phil-
adelphia, by Rev. H. C. McCook, who has
studied Epe'ira basilica among the hills of
the Colorado River, Texas, the snare of this

spider is of composite structure, consisting
of a pyramid of M^eb, within which, near its
base, is suspended a dome of the same ma-
terial, and hanging beneath the open bot-
tom of the dome is an horizontal sheet of
cobweb. The structure is illustrated in Mr.
McCook's paper, and the general effect will
be understood if the reader will imagine a
pyramidal tent of netting, inclosing a spread
umbrella, with a screen of web suspended
by coi'ds from the inside of the umbrella
and the tips of the ribs. The whole struct-
ure is usually suspended from a bush, and
thoroughly steadied and its form perfectly
preserved by means of silken guys. The
meshes of the pyramid are irregular and
very open ; the sheet under the dome is
also of irregular structure, but the dome
is constructed of a vast number of radii
crossed at regular intervals by concentrics,
after the manner of the snare of the com-
mon orb-weaving garden-spider. At the
bottom of the dome the radii are about
one-sixteenth of an inch apart, and the con-
centrics extend entirely and with equal regu-
larity to the summit, the meshes much re-
sembling those of a fisher's net. The diam-

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

24.7

eter of the dome is from seven to eight inch-
es at the base, and its height is about the
same. The inhabitant of this most curious
structure is thus described by our author:
" The fore-part of the body, cephalothorax,
is of a golden-yellow color, bordered and
marked with blackish bands. The legs are
of a delicate green, having the thighs
marked by blackish longitudinal bands, and
blackish annuli at the joints. On the back
of the abdomen the coloi'S within the black-
ish marginal lines are as follows: at the
base, next the cephalothorax, a snowy
white ; the middle lobes are a light yellow,
the lower lobes and the cruciform figure are
a golden yellow. The bands and markings
on the side of the abdomen are in the fol-
lowing order from the top, viz., crimson,
white, dark green with light-green edges,
blackish to dark green, yellow." But in the
mind of the araneologist the special inte-
rest of the basilica spider is not its archi-
tectural skill, not its beautiful markings,
but the fact that it seems to form a link be-
tween the orb-weaving and the line-weaving
spiders.

Mannfactnre of Sea-Salt in San Fran-
ciscOi — At Rock Island, in the bay of San
Francisco, works have lately been estab-
lished for reducing salt from sea-water by
solar evaporation. The process of evap-
orating the salt-water is described as fol-
lows in the Engineering and Mining Jour-
nal: "■ The water is let into a large reservoir
at high tide, and thence passed into a series
of other reservoirs, until it has traversed a
distance of fifteen to twenty miles, in the
mean time steadily increasing in strength and
dropping its limy impurities. In the fourth
reservoir the specific gravity is 16°, and it
leaves the seventh when it is 25°. Pure
chloride of sodium begins to form when the
brine attains this density, and continues to
do so until it has attained 29°. During the
strengthening of the sea-water from its nat-
ural specific gravity of about 1.03 to 25, the
sulphate of lime held in solution crystallizes
and settles to the bottom. It is not until a
specific gravity of 29 is reached that chlo-
ride and sulphate of magnesia, bromide of
soda, and chloride of potassium, begin to
concrete. These being the principal if not
the only impurities, with the exception of a

little water, the manner of securing pure
salt appears very simple. When at 25°,
the pickle is run into crystallizing ponds or
vats, some of which are simply the earth
hollowed for the purpose ; others are board-
ed on the bottom, while a third is made
wholly of boards. In these the brine is
allowed to remain until it is 28|°, when the
salt which has formed in the bottom is
shoveled into baskets, loaded on cars, and
conveyed to another part of the island
nearer the wharf, where it is piled up in
great pyramidal-shaped mounds. These
remain exposed to the sun and weather for
a year, which whitens and purifies the crys-
tals preparatory to grinding."

Atmospheric Electricity and Plant -
Growth. — Atmospheric electricity is, accord-
ing to M. Grandeau, a powerful agent in the
process of assimilation in plants. Plants
protected from its influence build up fifty
to sixty per cent, less of nitrogenous matter
than those subject to ordinary conditions ;
the proportion of ash is higher and of water
lower. In the author's experiments differ-
ent species of growing plants were inclosed
within an electric screen consisting of four
triangles of iron. The plants experimented
upon were maize, tobacco, and wheat — two
specimens of each — of which the one was
screened from atmospheric electricity, the
other not. The results of these experiments
agree fully with the discovery made some
time ago by Berthelot, that free nitrogen
unites with organic matter under the action
of electric currents not only from ordinary
induction-coils, but even from feeble voltaic
batteries. The proportion of nitrogen thus
fixed in seven months in paper and dextrine
was 1.92 thousandths.

Pnre Teas. — The Chinese minister at
Washington, Chin-Lan Pin, was lately vis-
ited by a delegation representing a firm of
tea-importers in Baltimore, who wished to
learn his views regarding the importation
into this country of pure teas. The minis-
ter in his reply said that the various brands
of tea sold in America and Europe are un-
known to and not used by the tea-consumer
in China. They are specially prepared by
the Chinese tea-exporters for the foreign
market. They are colored by the use of

248

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

chemicals ; and the process, together with
the peculiar methods of fixing up tea for
foreign markets, not only renders the plant
less palatable and beneficial, but more ex-
pensive. The adulteration and coloring of
teas for the foreign market, he said, are
wholly in consequence of the demand which
has existed for such teas ; and the minister
expressed the opinion that if the Boards of
Trade in New York and China would make
known the fact that pure teas are not only
better but cheaper, it would benefit both
producer and consumer. There is, he said,
really only one kind of tea-plant, and from
this both the green and black teas are pro-
duced. The equivalents for the two terms
" green " and " black " do not signify to the
Chinese the color of the tea, as in America,
but have reference to the period of gathering,
" green " indicating to them, as in " green
corn," not a color, but a state of immatu-
rity.

Prof. Winchell on College Edncation. —

Prof. Alexander Winchell, in a recent ad-
dress, said that the ratio of college graduates
to our population is continually diminishing ;
this, he held, would not be the case if col-
lege education were, under the conditions of
modern life, as good a pi'eparation for a sue-
cessful career as it was in former times.
But while the requirements of our time are
totally different from those of earlier periods
in the history of man, our system of educa-
tion is still, to all intents and purposes, what
it was in mediaeval times. Among the defi-
ciencies of our collegiate education, the most
serious, according to Prof. Winchell, is ig-
norance of our national organization, laws,
and political history, and of the principles
and laws of political life ; then, insufiicient
knowledge of the governments and history
of modern European states and of their
statesmen. Last, but not least, comes com-
parative ignorance of the natural sciences
and of mechanical and free-hand drawing.
Our so-called liberal education embraces but
a pitiful amount of the systems of knowledge
which are moving the world. Nor are these
shortcomings confined only to our colleges
and universities. In our elementary schools,
at the age when every active power is ready
to spring forth and seize the living truth, we
try to satisfy with syntax, and a list of names

from Siberia. " All children like to see pict-
ures, and to make pictures ; but, instead of
fostering this useful instinct, a picture on
the slate is as horrifying to Miss Nancy or
Mr. Petrifact as the name of science is to
our medisevalized theologian. When a boy
is aching to take a locomotive to pieces,
we set him to dissecting a verb. Let him
gratify his curiosity ; let him entertain
himself with chemical reagents ; give him
means to make a telephone or a steam-
engine ; allow him to drive nails and a jack-
plane; give him a microscope and a geo-
logical hammer. With these things he will
unite hand-work with head-work in a most
fruitful alliance ; and when he becomes a
man, he may be either a mechanically ex-
pert scholar or a scholarly mechanic. As a
scholar he will understand affairs and pos-
sess the common-sense which will turn every
situation to account. As a mechanic he
will understand his business, and make a
' boss ' who may be trusted without misgiv-
ing."

History of an int-Commnnity. — Like Sir
John Lubbock, the eminent French chemist
Berthelot devotes much of his leisure time
to studying the ways of ants. He has for
years closely observed an ant hill, which at
first presented the form of a little conical
hillock, peopled by thousands of inhabi-
tants. The history of this community, as
recorded by Berthelot, has a striking re-
semblance to human history — the same arts
of peace and of war, the same distinctions
of classes, the same fluctuations of fortune.
The ants excel as hunters, as marauders ;
they have among them skilled architects,
thrifty housewives. Division of labor is en-
forced. There are civilized ants and bar-
barians. The warriors despise the toil and
drudgery of civil life, and they delight in
making set raids, taking numbers of pris-
oners, and reducing them to servitude.
While their betters are taking their walks
abroad, or carrying on their wars, the
slaves care for the young, and attend to the
household affairs and economies. It is in-
teresting to observe them while engaged in
building. There are superintendents of
work, and there are simple workers. Some-
times the latter make mistakes ; for in-
stance, suppose they have to build an arch,

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY.

249

they make an error in determining the prop-
er curve. But when the superintendent
comes he notices the mistake, pulls down
the faulty piece of masonry, and corrects
the error.

When M. Berthelot first saw this ant-
city it had already been in existence for some
years, and was in the high tide of prosperity.
Ten years later it sent out a colony, which
settled at the foot of a young oak, distant
a few metres from the mother-city. This
colony, at first weak and occupying but lit-
tle ground, increased year by year. The
war of 1870 for a while interrupted the
course of M. Berthelot's researches, but
on the return of peace there was a new
surprise. The mother-city was now in a
state of decline, but the colony was thriving
wonderfully. In the old home there were
but few births and few fruitful unions ; the
number of inhabitants had grown less, and
the survivors were careless of their dwell-
ings. The colony has now become the prin-
cipal city, it has sent out a sub-colony which
is in a flourishing condition. The old city
is compared by M. Berthelot to Babylon,
with its thriving neighbor cities of Seleucia
and Ctesiphon.

Persian Hair-Dye. — The practice of dye-
ing the hair is very much in use among the
Persians, who mostly employ the plant hen-
na for this purpose. According to Dr.
Tholozan, the private physician of the shah,
the powdered leaves of the plant are made
into a paste with hot water and then apphed
to the head, the hair, and the nails. This
is done in a vapor-bath. This first applica-
tion lasts an hour and a half to two hours,
and then the parts are freely washed in
water. The henna gives an orange-red color,
very beautiful on a white beard, so that
many old men use it. To change the red-
dish color of hair into a fine, lustrous black,
the parts are coated, at the same sitting,
with a paste formed of another powder —
that from the leaves of a kind of indigo-
tree cultivated in Persia. This is called
rcng ; it remains applied about two hours.
The henna gives different colors according
as it acts on white, fair, or dark hair. It
alters very quickly in moisture, and loses
its properties in long sea-voyages. Expe-
rience seems to have proved that it gives

suppleness to hair, but it causes it to whiten
prematurely. Fair-haired people in Persia
always color their hair black, but the black
is not so intense as that produced in per-
sons of dark complexion. Skin reddened
and blackened with the two pastes soon
regains its natural color on being washed
with soap and rubbed with the fingers,
whereas the dye adheres firmly to the hair,
which it penetrates. Reng is sometimes
used alone, and gives a blue-violet color.

About Oleomargarioc. — Mr. John Michels
points out, in the American Journal of Mi-
croscopy, the diSerences between butter and
oleomargarine as observed with the micro-
scope. Two woodcuts illustrate the paper,
the one exhibiting the microscopic appear-
ance of oleomargarine, the other that of
butter. In the former substance are seen
numerous stellate or feathery crystals, to-
gether with globules. In butter none of
the crystals are seen, the whole field of the
microscope being filled by the globules, with
perhaps crystals of common salt. Besides
these stellate crystals, Mr. Michels found in
all the specimens of oleon^rgarine exam-
ined by him fragments of tissue and mus-
cle, also certain cells of a very suspicious
character. What these cells may be the
author does not assume to decide, but he
appears to suppose that they might possi-
bly be the larval forms or eggs of entozoa.
Some of Mr. Michels's observations on oleo-
margarine and its suitableness for human
food having been called in question, in par-
ticular his statement that living septic or-
ganisms may exist in the artificial butter,
he submitted the matter to the Rev. W. H.
Dallinger, of Liverpool, a very high author-
ity indeed. Mr. Dallinger's reply is given
in full by the author. He writes : " A tem-
perature of 120° [which is the highest tem-
perature employed in the manufacture of
oleomargarine] is not by any means serious-
ly, and certainly not permanently, injurious
to even the adult forms of the putrefactive
organisms." Again : " Quite as serious a
matter is that of the introduction, through
oleomargarine, into the human intestinal
tract of eggs of entozoa. I have made
enough experiments to say that the eggs,
for example, of the nematoda are practical-
ly uninjured by 120° Fahr. This," Mr. Dal-

250

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

linger adds, and his warning will carry great
weight, " is an important matter, and, al-
though likely to be in practice neglected at
first by the public, may probably impress
itself upon them in an unwelcome manner ''''
— that is, by a serious outbreak of trichino-
sis, or some other form of parasitic disease.

CnltiTating Disease. — The virulence of
the yellow fever in Memphis is easy to ac-
count for when the sanitary conditions of
that city are understood. Two or three years
ago we published some mortality statistics
concerning this place, which appeared to
show that it is exceptionally unhealthy. It
would indeed be nothing short of a miracle
if Memphis were a healthy city with its
highly insanitary surroundings. The situa-
tion is thus described in the Lancet mid
Clinic, by Dr. S. H. Collins, a Cincinnati phy-
sician, who rendered efficient service in Mem-
phis as a volunteer during the prevalence
of the epidemic : " Memphis is situated
upon the east bank of the Mississippi, upon
a bluff varying from fifteen to fifty feet in
height. Upon the crest of this blulf runs
Front Street; from this street the ground
slopes eastwardly away from the river, so
that all rain, surface-gutter washings, slop,
and whatever of floatable filth there may
be, is drained into the bayou, which winds
about through the heart of the city. Across
the river the Arkansas shore stretches low
and flat, a vast marsh, notorious for its ma-
laria ; north and east of Memphis upon the
Tennessee side, the land is low and swampy ;
the soil in and about the city, of clay. The
bayou runs through the most thickly-popu-
lated parts of Memphis; into this elongated
cesspool is collected all the floating filth of
a city of 55,000 inhabitants ; garbage, the
drainings from privy - vaults, gutter and
street washings, dead animal matter, all and
everything is poured or thrown into this
receptacle, there to decay and fester under
the broiling sun of that southern climate.
Consider it, if possible — ten miles of reek-
ing rottenness ! Not a yard of it covered
except where crossed by the bridges of the
various streets. During a rise of the Missis-
sippi the back-water fills this bayou bank-
full, its accumulated filth then soaking into
the clay of its banks. When the river falls,
the current of the bavou is not of sufficient

strength to empty its contents into the
river. The streets of the city of Memphis
are beyond description filthy, and completely
out of repair ; the wooden pavement is the
one in use, or rather was the pavement
originally put down. The streets and yards
are heavily shaded — the magnolia being the
tree mostly used."

The Movements of Plants.— After much
patient study of the phenomena kno^^'n as
heliotropism and the sleeping and awaking
of plants, M. Paul Bert, in a memoir ad-
dressed to the Paris Academy of Sciences,
an abstract of which is published in the
Revue Scientijique, offers an ingenious theo-
ry to account for them. The swelling of
the flower or leaf stem just below these
organs has long been recognized as the seat
of the movements in question, and hence
it has been called the " motor-swelling "
{reuflcmcnt moteur). The movements are
directly produced by changes in the energy
with which the renjlement moteur sup-
ports the flower or leaf, and this energy
is greatest at night. For a long time the
author was baffled in his investigation of
the matter constituting the "motor-swell-
ing." Nevertheless, after a protracted se-
ries of minute observations, he recognized
in the glucose the fundamental cause of
the periodic movements. It is known that
this substance is formed under the action
of solar light, that it is decomposed in
darkness, or that it migrates and some-
times accumulates at different points of
the plant organism. Now, one of these
points is the renjlement moteur, and it is
very plain that its quantity there varies at
the different stages of the diurnal life of the
plant. Thus the greater part of the phe-
nomenon is due to the storing up and then
to the destruction of the glucose, the hydra-
tion of which produces the energy of the
motor-spring. The same explanation serves
to account for heliotropism, another phe-
nomenon due to the action of the highly-
refracting rays of the spectrum on glucose
or on its hydration. Inasmuch as the ac-
tion of these rays lessens the tension on
that side of the " motor-swelling " on which
they fiill, the opposite side gains a relative
increase of energy, and hence results a cer-
tain motion ; and, as the sun moves on

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

251

its course, the leaf follows, but the reason
is always a diminished tension on the illu-
minated side. This is true of the stalk as
well as of the flower. Hence the two phe-
nomena of periodic movement and of helio-
tropism depend on variations in the quantity
of the glucose contained in the point of
movement.

Value of the Robin to the Agriculturist.

— Like the English sparrow, the " robin "
{Turdiis migratorius) has human enemies
and detractors who will not admit that he is
of any use whatever to the gardener and
fruit-grower ; but assert that he prefers to
grow fat on stolen cherries and other small
fruits, rather than on an insect-diet. But
what are the facts ? Lieut. D. A. Lyle, U. S.
A., reared a robin from the fledgling state to
maturity, in the mean time closely studying
the bird's preferences in the matter of food,
and here is the result of his observations, as
communicated to the American Naturalist :
On being taken from the nest, the young
bird was placed in a cage, with plenty of
boiled eggs and mashed potatoes and pure
water. He would neither eat nor drink, but
sat drawn up in the bottom of the cage,
giving vent to an occasional chirp. The food
was then forced down his throat, and this
treatment revived the patient somewhat,
but did not give entire satisfaction. He
then received raw beefsteak three times a
day, with bread and egg at intervals. The
effect was striking: the eyes brightened,
the chirp became loud and strong, and the
bird would hop about briskly. He soon
learned to open his mouth for the food.
Next he was for three days restricted to a
diet of earthworms, of which he would eat
his fill, and then retire moodily to a corner,
there to remain for about fifteen minutes,
till the meal was digested. But, as this
food acted as a purgative, it was alter-
nated with beefsteak. The June beetle be-
ing then in season, that species of food was
tried, and the bird preferred it to anything
else. As long as June beetles could be pro-
cured, they constituted the sole food of the
bird, and he thrived marvelously on it.
Every day he consumed forty to fifty of these
large beetles. " One morning," writes Lieut.
Lyle, " at seven o'clock I gave him fifteen ;
I returned from the office at twelve, and from

that time until sunset I fed him all he could
eat. During this time he disposed of seventy-
two of the large beetles ! " When the June
bugs were no longer to be had, cherries
were given to the bird. These, when he was
hungry, he would eat greedily, but they were
speedily rejected when a few coleoptera or a
piece of raw steak appeared in sight. The
author then makes an estimate of the num-
ber of insects probably destroyed per diem
by the twenty-three pairs of robins occupy-
ing the grounds around his residence, taking
as the basis of his calculation the perform-
ance of his captive robin, and finds that the
number would be at least 4,600, or 138,000
per month ! Examination of the cherry-trees
growing on the grounds showed that only
about one cherry in twenty had been injured
by the birds — a very low price to pay for
their service in exterminating the noxious
insects.

Gelatine as a Food - Preservative. — Dr.

Campbell Morfit's "gelatine process" for
preseiving articles of food — as milk, vege-
tables, fruits, etc. — possesses many advan-
tages which will undoubtedly win for it
a very general acceptance. It consists in
adding to the substances to be preserved a
certain proportion of gelatine, and then dry-
ing the mixture till it does not contain over
10 or 12 per cent, of moisture. The mode
of applying the process to the preservation
of milk is described as follows in Nature:
One pound of gelatine is dissolved in a gallon
of milk at a temperature of 130° to 140°
Fahr., and the solution is then allowed to set
into a jelly, which is cut into slices and dried.
By employing the product of this first opera-
tion in place of fresh gelatine for gelatinizing
a second gallon of milk, a jelly is obtained
in which the milk solids are just doubled in
amount. As a gallon of milk contains about
6,400 grains of these solid matters, viz.,
casein, milk-sugar, milk-fat, and phosphates,
their ratio to the gelatine will become as
12,800 to 7,000 after the second operation
just described. If, then, the dried milk
jujube, as it may be now called, be again
and again employed with successive quanti-
ties of milk, a limit is reached when the one
pound of gelatine has been incorporated with
ten gallons. At this stage the mixture will
contain no more than one part of gelatine

252

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to ten of the nutritive matters of milk — a
proportion of added preservative material
which contrasts very favorably with the 25
to 28 per cent, of sugar found in ordinary
condensed milk. If the one pound of gela-
tine required could be at once dissolved in
the whole eight or ten gallons of milk, the
process would be simplified and cheapened ;
but gelatinization could not then be secured,
for it is the gradual drying up of the slabs
of jelly, with which the animal and vege-
table food materials have been uniformly
incorporated, that envelops every particle
of changeable substance with an adequate
protective coating of gelatine.

Nctes on Afghanistan! — Afghanistan is
happily described by a writer in the Geo-
graphical Magazine as a star of valleys ra-
diating from the stupendous peaks of the
Koh-i-Baba, and bounded all round by very
rugged and diificult mountains. These val-
leys are traversed by streams which flow in
various directions, the most important of
them being the Cabool and its tributary the
Kunar, the Argandab, the Helmund, the
Harirud, and the Murghab. The appalling
grandeur of some of the defiles north of the
Hindoo-Koosh — a name applied to the whole
line of Alpine water-shed stretching south-
west from the southern end of Pamir — is
not surpassed anywhere, while many of the
sheltered glens on the southern slopes of
that range are the delight of travelers.
The general elevation of the country, which
is considerable, diminishes toward the fron-
tiers, and as its face becomes lower the
rivers are absorbed by irrigation or lost
by evaporation, and a belt of very barren,
desert-like land is thus formed, bounding
Afghanistan on all sides except the north-
east corner. The spurs of the Hindoo-
Koosh run out on both sides into the basins
of the Oxus and the Cabool. Its peaks in all
probability rise throughout to the region of
perpetual snow, and the loftiest attain 20,-
000 feet in height, or over. This mighty
range is pierced by upward of twenty passes,
all leading from the basin of the Oxus to
that of the Cabool. The climate is very di-
versified, but this is due to difference of ele-
vation rather than of latitude. At Ghazin
('/('ZSO feet) the winters are very severe,
and here, as well as in the Hazarajat, the

people stay in their houses during the cold
season. The summer heat is everywhere
very great, except in the most elevated parts
of the Hindoo-Koosh and other lofty moun-
tains. A deadly hot wind blows over the
southwestern portion of the country, which
is a sandy and almost uninhabited desert.
For nine months the sun shines with the
greatest possible splendor in Afghanistan,
and the nights are even more beautiful than
the days. The geology of the country is but
little known. Antimony, iron, and lead, are
found in the Ghorband Valley, and quarries
of white marble in the hills near Maidan.
Copper is found in various locahties, but the
deposits are unworked. Lead is obtained
from the Hazara country ; sulphur from
Pir-Kisri, on the eastern confines of Seis-
tan ; and zinc and nitre from the Zhob Val-
ley and Herat respectively. The main wealth
of Afghanistan consists in the domestic
animals — the horse, camel, cow, etc. The
population is estimated at a little below
5,000,000. Wheat is the staple food ; rice
is largely grown ; other agricultural pi'od-
ucts are turnips, ginger, turmeric, sugar-
cane, castor-oil plant, madder, asafcEtida,
tobacco, and fruits.

Japanese Fermented Liqnors. — Some
time ago Prof De Bary, of Strasburg, dis-
covered that alcoholic fermentation can be
effected by the growth of a species of Mu-
cor. Singularly enough, as we learn from
a communication in Nature^ by Prof. R. W.
Atkinson, of the University of Tokio, this
agency for bringing about alcoholic fermen-
tation has long been known in Japan brew-
eries, where it is employed in preparing from
rice the alcoholic liquid called sake. In the
breweries at HachiOji the main room is usu-
ally one hundred and twenty by fifty feet,
and twenty -five or thirty feet high ; along
the middle of it is a platform about twelve
feet from the ground; on this are ranged
wooden tubs, which serve for the prepara-
tion of the ferment, an operation repeated
several times during the brewing-season.
At the close of the previous season a quan-
ty of green mould is produced on rice by
exposing steamed rice mixed with ashes,
and over which the spores of this fungus
have been scattered in a well-closed cham-
ber— the " fungus-chamber " — a small room

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

253

about seven feet high, six feet broad, and
eight feet long, well lined and covered with
straw and matting, so that its high temper-
ature may be kept up for a considerable
time. In this chamber the rice and spores
are left about ten days, and then they are
found to be covered with a green fungus
full of spores. This product is called in
Japanese tane, or seed. When it is re-
quired to commence operations a similar
method is adopted — that is, a quantity of
steamed rice is placed on wooden trays in
the " fungus-chamber," but not mixed with
wood-ashes, and then iane is scattered over
it, and the chamber kept closed for from
two to four days. The rice-grains are then
found to be covered with large quantities
of fine, hair-like threads — the mycelium of
the fungus. In this state it is called ko-
ji. To prepare his yeast, the brewer mixes
steamed rice with thirty per cent, of its
weight of koji and sufficient water to make
a thick mud, in shallow tubs, which are
kept on the central platform. It is fre-
quently stirred with wooden tools for about
ten days, and thus the grains of rice are
broken down, the whole assuming a much
thinner consistence, and the liquor becom-
ing decidedly sweet. This is a change for
which the author cannot yet fully account.
After the end of the ten days this product is
mixed with freshly-steamed rice, water, and
koji, and placed in larger wooden vessels,
in which the mixture is heated by means of
closed wooden tubs containing hot water ;
and the temperature is maintained for from
eight to thirteen days at about 95° Fahr.
Meanwhile there is continuous development
of gas, and a scum gradually forms on the
surface till it is about an inch thick, and
under the microscope presents the usual
appearance of brewers' ferment — saccha-
romyces. The product of this operation is
called nioto — source, or origin — the yeast.
The actual fermentation has three stages,
called " beginning," " middle," and "end,"
the proportions of steamed rice varying
slightly in each, but giving a final result of
one hundred parts of steamed rice to thirty
of ferment. This mixture, with the proper
quantity of water, is placed in large tuns,
and allowed to remain fifteen days, during
which there is active fermentation, and
the liquid becomes strongly alcoholic, at

the end of which time it is drawn off from
the grains of rice which have subsided, and
put in other tuns, where it stands till the
remainder of the rice is separated. The
liquor is now heated to 140° Fahr., after
which it is kept in store vats, carefully
sealed up. This sake contains about fifteen
per cent, alcohol.

A French igricnitnral School. — It is a

true remark that in France sundry matters
of practical administration are better un-
derstood than elsewhere, and it may be
that an account of a French agricultural
school will suggest a few useful ideas to
those who conduct similar institutions in
this country. At Grignon, near Versailles,
is an institution of this kind, concerning
which the Revue Scientijiquc gives the fol-
lowing notes: There are three classes of
students, viz., internes, or boarders, who
constitute the majority ; exfernes, who live
outside of the institution, but who are re-
quired to attend all the exercises of the
school ; and auditeurs libres, who are free
to select among the different courses of in-
struction such as they prefer. Students of
the first class pay 1,200 francs per annum
for board, lodging, and tuition, and those
of the other two pay 200 francs. The
course of study extends ovei* a period of
two and a half years, and pupils are admit-
ted in October after passing an examination.
In March, at the close of the first semester,
they are examined on the subjects they
have studied during this first term, and
those who do not pass this ordeal success-
fully are dismissed. Similar eliminatory
examinations take place at the end of
each semester. The final examination is
in March, thirty months after admission,
the most meritorious students receiving
diplomas, and the others a certificate of
study. The number of branches taught
is considerable, viz. : Chemistry, both gen-
eral and agricultural ; rural economy ; ag-
riculture ; rural engineering ; botany ; tech-
nology; silviculture; zootechny; meteor-
ology, and geology. In addition, instruc-
tion is given in book-keeping and in hy-
giene, and there are lectures on special sub-
jects. The instruction given in each branch
of study is fortified by practical applications
under the direction of the professors and

254

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

their assistants, and the students are fa-
miliarized with chemical manipulation, the
determination of the different kinds of min-
erals and plants, draughting, land-survey-
ing, the management of animals, agricult-
ural machines, etc. The farm attached to
the school comprises 300 hectares (about
750 acres).

Noxious Vapors and Health. — In the

report of an English commission on noxious
vapors given off in the course of various
manufactures, a principle is laid down
which, if accepted by courts, would afford
a speedy remedy for many of the ills of
modern life. What the report says with
special reference to alkali and copper works
may be applied to such nuisances as fat-
rendering and petroleum-refining establish-
ments ; also to such destroyers of quiet as
elevated railroads. " To be free from bod-
ily discomfort," says the report, quoting the
words of Mr. Simon, " is a condition of health.
If a man gets up with a headache, ^ro tanto
he is not in good health ; if a man gets up
unable to eat his breakfast, pro tanto he is
not in good health. When a man is living in
an atmosphere which keeps him constant-
ly below par, as many of those trade-nui-
sances do, all that is an injury to health."
But it is more than doubtful whether the com-
mission will be able to enforce any measures
that will effectually abate these nuisances.
It is admitted that, besides the direct in-
jury to the public health, noxious factory-
gases are chargeable with doing serious
damage to agriculture. Cattle die from graz-
ing on poisoned herbage, farms become
parched up, yellow, and cannot be tenant-
ed ; parks, woodlands, and hedges, are slow-
ly annihilated. But the factories give em-
ployment to the population, and working-
people are content to labor even in an un-
wholesome atmosphere for their daily bread.
To require the entire suppression of nui-
sances involves outlay of money, and, in the
present depressed state of manufacturing
industry in Britain, proprietors are unwill-
ing to incur expense. They would close
their establishments, so throwing people
out of employment, rather than burden
themselves with the cost of carrying out
the provisions of such a law as the sanitari-
ans demand. Said the President of the Salt

Chamber of Commerce : " We are taking
no steps whatever to consume our own black
smoke. The local authority must fine me
as long as they can ; if they fine me to too
great an extent I shall have to shut up.
This will be the case with all of us, and the
trade will be driven from the district."

A Defense of the Sparrows. — Dr. Elliott
Coues's " railing accusations " against the
English sparrow have called forth many a
hot-tempered reply from the friends of that
bird, some of whom are so unpatriotic as
to prefer the foreign intruder to the feath-
e.red songsters of their native land. Among
these partisans of the English sparrow must
be numbered Mr. Robert B. Roosevelt, who,
in a late number of Forest and Stream, scru-
ples not to answer "railing with railing."
Dr. Coues, it will be remembered, makes five
distinct categories of the sparrow's friends ;
Mr. Roosevelt does not care to differentiate
the bird's enemies, but lumps them in one
class, the " sparrow-hawks." The sparrows
are worthless idlers, say these sparrow-
hawks ; but what, asks Mr. Roosevelt, was
the condition of our city parks and tree-
shaded streets before the advent of the
sparrows ? Were they not practically im-
passable from the numbers of disgusting
measuring-worms which hung in festoons
from the limbs of the trees? The parks
were abandoned absolutely to the worms,
which by June had stripped every leaf, often
killing the trees, and making them as bare
and denuded as in mid-winter. The spar-
rows came, and everything was changed.
" But," say the sparrow-hawks, " our native
birds might have done the same service."
"Might have done!" exclaims Mr. Roose-
velt, contemptuously ; " they never did."
On the other hand, the sparrows " did not
pave the parks with good intentions, but set
about their appointed work and did it.
They did not idle on bush or limb to squeak
a feeble attempt at harmony " (such is the
fling the author makes at our native feathered
songsters); "they did not slip off to steal
fruit ; they did not satisfy their minds and
feel that they had performed the whole duty
of birds by setting up their feathers and
saying, ' How pretty I am ! ' They were ex-
pected to kill worms, and they killed them.
Early and late, without folly or idleness or

NOTES.

255

wicked indulgences, they performed their
duty till the measuring-worms ceased to be,
and the place that knew them knows them
no more. Go on, good sparrow ! " But we
have not the space to give the eloquent
apostrophe in which the author encourages
the sparrow to go on with his good work.

Death of Mr. Thomas Belt.— With deep
regret we have to announce the death of
Thomas Belt, geologist and naturaUst. He
died, September 22d, at Denver, Colorado,
of rheumatic fever. The following bio-
graphical notice is from the London Athe-
ncBuni : " The son of the late Mr. George
Belt, nurseryman and seedsman of New-
castle-upon-Tyne, Thomas Belt was a prac-
tical botanist almost from his infancy, and
his scientific tastes were further developed
in the two schools which he attended — the
earliest presided over by Dr. J. C. Bruce,
of antiquarian fame, and the second by the
late John Storey, a man second to none of
his day as a north-country botanist. In
the latter establishment young Belt had as
schoolfellows two boys who have since
stamped their names in the annals of sci-
ence— Prof. G. S. Brady and H. B. Brady,
F. R. S. la 1851 Thomas Belt joined in
the first great gold rush to Australia, and
since that time his life has been that of a
hard-working, successful mining engineer.
He visited all parts of the world in the
course of his profession, but whether as a
digger in Victoria, as a manager of mines
in Central America, or as a prospector in
the wilder parts of Russia, the engineer was
always a naturalist at heart. He was an
excellent observer, and a certain speculative
tendency led him to group his observations
so as to bring out their full theoretical bear-
ings. He was minutely accurate in his de-
scription of facts, and bold in his generali-
zations. He covered so much ground that
some of his theories may not bear the test
of further research, but some will stand,
and all bear witness to the singular grasp
of his mind. The chief results of his work
are to be found in his papers read before
the Geological Society (of which he became
a Fellow in 1866), and in a most interest-
ing book entitled ' The NaturaUst in Nica-
ragua,' and published in 1874. In biology
Mr. Belt was an advanced evolutionist, and

in geology an- ultra-glacialist. In both
branches of science his papers were sugges-
tive m the highest degree. What he did
was so good that much was expected of
him, and his sudden loss is an irreparable
one to the rapidly-thinning group of emi-
nent Tyneside naturalists to which, by right
of birth, he belonged."

NOTES.

The American Public Health Associa-
tion will hold its sixth annual meeting at
Richmond, Virginia, beginning on the 19th
and ending on the 22d of November. The
first days of the session will be devoted to
the report and evidence submitted by the
Yellow Fever Commission recently named
by the Surgeon-General of the Marine Hos-
pital Service.

The project of a railroad across New-
foundland is again being agitated. Such a
railroad would have the effect of shortening
by one thousand miles the ocean-voyage
from this continent to Europe. It is stated
in the Polytechnic Review that the Govern-
ment of Newfoundland has agreed to vote
an annual subsidy, and to make a grant of
lands in aid of the enterprise. Among the
incidental benefits to be derived from such
a line of railway may be named the opening •<
up of vast deposits of copper, iron, coal,
nickel, lead, and other minerals. Further-
more, it would cut through the great pine
and spruce forests of the interior of New-
foundland.

Sir George Nares, who commanded the
expedition of the Alert and Discovery to the
polar regions, is about to make another
scientific voyage to the South Pacific. He
will first make soundings in the track of
navigation between New Zealand and Feejee,
and will then ascertain the positions of the
different reefs and islets off the northwestern
coast of Australia.

Dr. J. S. Meter, of Virginia City, Neva-
da, claims that he has discovered the " lost
art," known to the ancient Egyptians, of
tempering copper so as to produce an edge
which will cut like steel.

The Government in India is introducing
agricultural schools. The native methods
are wretchedly poor, and little wonder is it
that the famines are occasionally dreadful.
" The curse of Indian agriculture " is said
to be the inveterate custom in many places
of using the cattle-manure for fuel. To stop
this a law is recommended for the compul-
sory planting of fuel trees, which also would
have a good climatic effect.

256

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A German resident on- the island of
Java has succeeded in domesticating the
native honey-bee {Apis dorsata). Tlie hope
is indulged that this Javanese bee may be
acclimated in Europe, and, if so, in America.
The only value hitherto set upon the insect
by the natives has been for its larvae, which
they used for food.

The distinguished geologist and engi-
neer, Sir Richard John Griffith, Bart., died
in Dublin, September 22d, aged ninety-
four years. In 1854 was completed his
" Geological Map of Ireland," for which he
received the Wollaston Medal of the Lon-
don Geological Society. From an early
age till 1864 he was connected with the
Irish Board of Public Works, and was
chairman of the board for the last twelve
years of that period.

The editor of the American Builder^ in
looking over the statistics of education in
the United States, observes some facts
which strike him as curious, for instaiice,
that while there are 579 colleges, univer-
sities, law, medical, and theological schools,
there are only 83 schools for the higher
mechanical and scientific education, includ-
ing all schools of design, mining, and en-
gineering. Again, the theological schools
are twice as numerous as the engineering,
scientific, and mechanical schools. " No
wonder," he remarks, "that many trained
preachers in this country go hungry to bed,
while thousands of enterprising mechanics
and artisans are floundering in a sea of
ignorance in search of higher scientific at-
tainments."

Prof. Fischer, who was lately found
dead in the laboratory of the Prague Gym-
nasium, was the victim of a theory. Hav-
ing mixed sal-ammoniac with cyanide of
potassium, he bade his attendant to note
how " science has advanced so far as even
to be able to render harmless so dangerous
an agent as cyanide of potassium." With
that he tasted the mixture, and was quickly
seized with violent pains, and expired be-
fore a physician could arrive.

A STRIKING illustration of the value of
the electric light at ses^ was given during
the homeward voyage of the telegraph-
steamer Faraday from New York to London
last August. About 10.30 p. m., July'lSth,
in the vicinity of George's Bank, in a dense
fog, with a fresh westerly wind, suddenly
was heard the sound of a bell ringing furi-
ously but a short distance ahead. The
steamer's engines were immediately stopped,
and the captain, supposing it to be a fisher-
man at anchor or almost stationary, ordered
the wheel to be ported ; at the same mo-
ment the electric light of the Faraday
pierced the fog, and plainly showed a ship
crossing her bows. Not a moment was to

be lost, and only by the coolness and pres-
ence of mind of the captain was a fearful
calamity averted. The two vessels were
within a few feet of each other ; the look-
out men said they coidd have stepped on
the stranger's stern. She was full of pas-
sengers, and the cries of women and chil-
dren were heartrending. " Had I not been
able," writes the captain, " to see her so
plainly, and the way she was going, we
must have gone over her, or she might
have struck us on the port bow ; in either
case the loss of life must have been great,
and even now it seems terrible to contem-
plate."

Color-blindness is, according to M.
Favre, consulting physician of one of the
great railways of France, a frequent result
of the abuse of alcohol and tobacco. He
would interdict to every railway-man hold-
ing a responsible position the use of to-
bacco or alcohol in any form, because they
tend to impair not only the power of dis-
criminating colors, but also that of estimat-
ing distances and of perceiving objects.

The piano war having ended, at least in
the newspapers, the war of the mineral
waters appears to have succeeded to its
place. There are two kinds of mineral
waters, the natural and the artificial. The
natural waters alone possess all the me-
dicinal virtues of the sources after which
they are named — as' Apollinaris, Seltzers,
Vichy, etc. — at least so we are assured
by the " naturalist " faction. The other
side, the " artificialists," claim that their
product is best and purest ; besides, they
boldly assert that their adversaries are
no better "naturalists" than themselves;
that, in fact, the so-called "natural" min-
eral waters are freely doctored, and hence
artificial. One of the " artificialists " is out
in a circular, in which he quotes from the
very chemists of the opposite side, to show
that the Apollinaris water imported into this
country differs very much from the water
as it comes from the Apollinaris spring.
The natural-.water contains of chloride of
sodium 4.66 parts in 10,000, but the bottled
article contains 14.088 parts. Further, the
iron of the original water is removed, and
the water is charged artificially with car-
bonic-acid aas. Hence, it is claimed, this
product is strictly " artificial."

The governor of the Chinese province
of Chihli has employed Mr. Arnold Hague,
of San Francisco, an expert mining engi-
neer, to examine and report on the mineral
resources of Northern China.

On the occasion of the inauguration
of the monument to Giordano Bruno, the
Italian Government will publish the com-
plete works of that great and original phi-
losopher.

/

/

/

GU8TAV WALLIS.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

JANUARY, 1879.

TRACES OF AN EAELT EACE IN JAPAN.

By EDWAKD S. MOKSE.

THERE is no race of people in whose origin we are more interested
than in that of the Japanese. Their history going so completely
back for nearly two thousand years, their civilization, which in so
many respects parallels our own — the various epochs in oar history
being typified again and again by similar ages in Japan — all excite
our deepest interest. The difficulty of tracing out ethnical affinities
either through their personal peculiarities or their language presents a
problem yet unsolved. That they are a composite race we cannot
doubt. All their traditions point to their coming from the south, and
equally sure are we that when they landed they found a hairy race of
men to contest their occupation. Later history shows that a number
of Chinese invasions took place, and these unwelcome visits were re-
turned by the Japanese. Corea was invaded by the Japanese long ago.
With these facts in mind, we are no longer surprised at the great va-
riety of faces to be met with in Japan — faces purely Chinese ; others
with the coarser features of the northern tribes ; and again the deli-
cate and pleasant features of what is supposed to represent the typical
Japanese.

The conjectures and opinions that have been advanced regarding
the origin of the Japanese would form a curious and bulky collection.
It is worth noting that both pagan and Christian writers have held al-
most equally preposterous notions regarding the origin of the Japanese.
The people themselves have a tradition that they owe their origin to
the sun. Kilmpfer holds the absurd idea that "they are descended
from the first inhabitants of Babylon." From these vagaries we
pass in turn to other ideas based on some foundation of fact. In a
paper read before the Asiatic Society of Japan by Mr. Aston, an affinity is

VOL. XIT. — 17

258

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

shown to exist between certain words in the Japanese and Aryan ; while
Mr. Brooks, in the proceedings of the California Academy of Sciences,
takes ground for believing that the Japanese and Chinese may have
been derived from the west coast of South America. Mr. Isawa, an
intelligent Japanese student, at the last meeting of the American Asso-
ciation for the Advancement of Science, called attention to the simi-

Fig. 7-

Fi£i;s. 1 to 9 show some of the various forms of vessels. Fie. 1, diameter, 130 mm. Fig. 2, di-
ameter, 280 mm. Fij. 3, diiimeter, 130 mm. Fig. 4, height. 220 mm. Pig. 5, diameter, 105 mm.
Fig. 6, diameter, 160 mm. Fig. 7, diameter, 150 mm. Fig. 8, diameter, 150 mm.

larity existing between many Japanese words and Hindostanee. With
these and many other conflicting views, authorities seem to agree upon
one thing, and that is, that the present inhabitants of Japan are not
autochthonous, neither the Japanese nor the Ainos in Yesso.

TRACES OF AJSr EARLY RACE IJV JAPAN: 259

•

So far as the ancient records of Japan are to be relied upon (and
they certainly go back before the Christian era with considerable ac-
curacy), Jimmu Tenno in the first century of our era came from a prov-
ince in Kinshin for the conquest of Niphon or Japan. The invaders
met with so courageous a resistance that they were obliged to go back
to their own shores. The people who repulsed Jimmu Tenno and his
followers are believed by the Japanese to have been the hairy men of
Yesso, the ancestors of the present inhabitants of the northern islands.

The study of the language, traditions, and folk-lore of the Ainos,
furnishes good reasons for believing that the ancestors of the Ainos
came from Kamtchatka, drifting down through the Kuriles, and gradu-
ally becoming proprietors of the soil before the Japanese came from
the south to displace them.

Fig. 9— the rims of this vessel are quite common in the heaps, but only one, the fragments
of which could be matched, was fouud. Its height was about 300 mm.

With every reason for believing that the Japanese came from the
south, displacing the Ainos, who came from the north, the question
next arises as to the original occupants of the island. Did the north-
ern people encounter resistance from a primitive race of savages, or
were they greeted only by the chattering of relatives still more remote,
whose descendants yet clamber about the forest-trees to-day ? The rec-
ords are silent on these points. A discovery that I made in the vicinity
of Tokio last year leads me to believe that possibly the traces of a race
of men previous to the Aino occupation have been found. I say possi-
bly, because a study of the Aino people, their manners, and traces of
their early remains, is necessary before a definite opinion can be formed.

On my first visit to Tokio I discovered from the car-window a gen-
uine " Kjoekkenmoedding," or shell-heap, as we call them. The de-
posit is in Omori, about six miles from Tokio ; and one may well won-
der why it had not been recognized before. It had probably often

26o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

been seen, but, like many similar deposits in Europe and America, had
been looked upon as natural beds of sea-sliells deposited in past times,
and after their formation elevated by upheaval. It was not until Steen-
strup, of Copenhagen, first took up the critical study of similar deposits
along the shoi'es of the Baltic, and showed that the deposits were really
the work of man, and of ancient man, that attention was attracted to
these beds in other parts of the world.

Thanks to several years' study of these deposits along the coast of
New England, in company with Prof. Jeffries Wyman, I was enabled to
recognize the character of the Omori deposit at once. The railway passes
directly through it, and most of it has been removed for ballasting the
road. The bed evidently covered the field beyond the track for a consid-
erable distance, judging from the quantity of shells and fi'agments of pot-
tery which were strewed in the adjacent rice-field. The deposit varied
from a few inches to two feet and a half in thickness, and the layer of
earth above varied from two feet to nearly five feet in thickness. This
great depth of soil above the shells might have been brought in by man,
as the Japanese are famous for the manner in which they level the ground
and fill in depressions. The thickness of soil above a deposit is always
an untrustworthy guide in estimating the age of such a deposit : as,
for example, the deposits about Salem, Massachusetts, containing pre-
cisely the same kinds of pottery and bone-implements, and presumably
of the same age, will have in one place a thickness of two feet of soil
above, and in the sterile pastures a thin layer of a few inches. The
Omori deposit is made up of shells which still live in the bay of Yeddo,
though I have not yet been able to study the living forms sufficiently
to ascertain whether any changes have taken place in the fauna since the
heaps were made. A number of genera are found, representing, among
others, Ehurna^ Turbo, Ceritheimi Area, Peeten cardiwn, two species of
Ostrea, and, curiously enough, large valves of the common clam, J/ya are-
naria, hardly to be distinguished from the same species so common along
the New England coast. The position of the Omori heap is striking.
The shell-heaps of New England, Florida, and nearly all places where
they have been observed, are always in immediate proximity to the shore
or river. In some places, as at Goose Island, Maine, the ocean encroaches
upon the deposits and is gradually removing them. Rev. James Fowler,
in commenting upon the absence of shell-heaps along the New Bruns-
wick coast, offers this as one of the evidences that the sea is encroaching
upon the land, and calls attention to the fact that buildings, which stood
at some distance from the shore fifty years ago, have since been washed
away.* Along the shores of the Baltic, the shell-heaps, on the contrary,
are a mile or more from the shore, and this fact, with evidences of a ge-
ological character, shows a practical encroachment of the land upon the
sea by upheaval since the deposits were made.

The Omori deposits, like those of the Baltic, are some distance from

' " Smithsonian Annual Report " for 18Y0, p. 389.

TRACES OF AN EARLY RACE IX JAPAN. 261

the sea-shore — nearly, if not quite, half a mile. And that an upheaval
has taken place since the deposits were made, there can be no doubt.
Geological evidences are not wanting to support this view ; these various
deposits, remote from each other, such as the Denmark, New England,
and Florida deposits, have each their peculiarities. In the Danish heaps
there seems to be a scarcity of pottery, but an abundance of flint-chips
and rude stone implements, as well as implements worked out of horn
and bone. The New England shell-heaps are not rich in pottery frag-
ments, the stone implements are rude and scarce, but the implements
of horn and bone are comparatively not uncommon, those worked out
of bone being more common. In the Florida deposits fragments of pot-
tery are more abundant ; and while rude stone and bone implements are
found, the larger shells seem to have furnished them with material for
many of their implements. Prof. Wyman has figured many of them in
his memoir on the fresh-water shell-heaps of Florida, and Dr. Stimpson
has figured an awl in the American Naturalist, which was made out of
the spirally grooved columella of Fasciolaria. While the pottery of
Denmark and New England is ornamented by incised lines and " cord-
marks," the Florida pottery bears the marks of stamps by which they im-
pressed a rude ornamentation upon their vessels. The Omori shell-heap
has also its peculiarities : 1. The extreme abundance of pottery, both
in fragments and nearly perfect vessels. From the great quantity
found there, one is led to believe that in past times it was a famous
place for its manufacture. Yet in the excavations no masses or unfin-
ished vessels were found to justify this assumption. 2. The great vari-
ety in the form of the vessels and remarkable diversity in their orna-
mentation. From these characters alone one might infer it to be of
more recent origin. Its rudeness, however, and the absence of anything
like lathe-work or glazing, show it to be ancient.^ A greater portion
of the pottery has the twisted cord-mark so common in most of the
early pottery. Much of it has incised lines, and small fragments
show a peculiar carving, made after the clay was dry, but before
baking.

The ornamentation in these fragments is almost precisely similar
to the Aino style of ornamenting. In other pottery also the peculiar
way in which spaces between curved lines are " filled in," either by
" cord-marks " or punctures, again recalls the Aino. ' And had nothing
else been found in the deposit, the remains might have unhesitatingly
been referred to the Yessoines. Such comparisons are unsafe, as Mr.
Frank H. Gushing, of the Smithsonian Institution, finds similar pottery

1 A writer in one of the Yokohama papers calls attention to the fact that a fragment
of glazed pottery was found, when the excavations were first made, against the exposed
bank of the railway. He might have added that an English button and the soldered
disk of a tin preserving-can were also found ! Such a one, finding a living toad in a gra-
nitic crevice, would be likely to infer, either that the toad was as old as the granite, or
that the granite was as recent as the toad.

262

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in Northern New York and Canada, and I may add that in New Eng-
land such pottery has been found. In many cases the borders of vessels
are ornamented with undulating ribs, showing the marks of " finger-
squeezing." A marked peculiarity of the pottery consists in the eleva-

Fig. 15.

Fig. ID.

Fig. 17.

FigB. 10 to 17 show a few of the knobs or handles which are peculiar to the Omori depoeit.
Not a eins;le vessel wag found with legs, as with the Central American pottery, but most of the
vessels have raised knobs on the margin. Fig. 16 is looped, so that a wooden handle might be ad-
justed. Fig. 11 is 190 mm. in its longest diameter; the size of the other knobs may be estimated
from this.

tion of the rim or border into ornamented knobs or handles, some of
which are represented in Figs. 10 to 17 inclusive. Some painted pot-
tery was also found, the coloring matter of which, on analysis by Prof.
Jewett, of the Imperial University of Tokio, proves to be cinnabar. The

TRACES OF AN EARLY RACE IN JAPAN.

263

occurrence throughout the empire of stone celts, finished arrow-heads,
and spear-points and pestles, is common. These might or might not
have belonged to the Ainos, though, as similar forms occur in Yesso, the
probability is that many of them at least are of early Aino manufacture.
It is significant, however, to observe that the few stone implements found
in the Omori beds are of the rudest manufacture ; and, furthermore, that
no shell-heap that I know of has revealed a less number, the two shown
in Figs. 28 and 29 being made of a soft volcanic rock. Curiously enough,
most of the other implements were made out of deer's-horns, only one
being of bone (Fig. 21, evidently the end of a deer's metatarsal). An
exquisitely finished arrow-point (Fig. 25) was fabricated out of a boar's
tusk.

The bones of birds were not common. I searched in vain for traces
of the great auk, the remains of which are so widely met with in Den-
mark and New England. Though ponderous shells of various species
occur in the heap, no evidence was found that these were worked in
any way.

Fig. 19-

Fig. 18 is a piece of pottery that may be a spindle- whorl— diameter, 70 mm.

Fig. 19 is a small clay brick, 55 mm. in length. This is ornamented on both sides. It is difflcnlt
to conjecture its use. I have lour more in the collection at the university, much larger and orna-
mented in a different manner. These are possibly amulets, or perhaps signs of otflce or authoritj'.
I think they are unique.

A fragment of a spindle-whorl is shown in Fig. 18. A peculiar
tablet, or brick of clay, curiously ornamented, is shown in Fig. 19.
Nothing of the kind, so far as I know, has been found in the shell-heaps
of other parts of the world. It is difficult even to conjecture its use.

The most important discoveries connected with the Omori deposits
are the unquestionable evidences of cannibalism. Large fragments of
the human femur, humerus, radius, ulna, lower jaw, and parietal bone,
were found widely scattered in the heap. These were broken in pre-
cisely the same manner as the deer-bones — either to get them into the
cooking-vessel, or for the purpose of extracting the marrow — in all
respects corresponding to the facts cited by Wyman in proof of the
evidences of cannibalism found in the Florida and New England shell-
heaps.

264

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The question as to the antiquity of the Omori deposits naturally
arises, and the evidences all point to a considerable antiquity, suggested
by the entire absence of worked metals, as well as of finished or pol-
ished stone implements, the few implements found being of the rudest
character.

The change which has taken place in the coast-line by upheaval,

since the deposits were made, has
not the importance which would
be ascribed to it in a more stable
country.

The next question arises as to
whether the deposits are Aino or
pre-Aino. The race who left these
remains were pot-makers par excel-
lence. It is generally admitted by
ethnologists that the art of pottery
once gained is never lost. It is
a fact, however, that neither the

Fig. 24.

Fig. 26.

Fig. 29.

Figs. 20 to 26 represent a number of implements made out of horn, -with the exception of Fig.
'25, which is worked out of a boar's tusk. Figs. 23, 24, and 26, are respectively 60, 62, and 125 mm.
in length. Fig. 21 is worked out of the end of a deer's metatarsal. Fig. 22 is a bird's bone, proba-
bly a humerus, with two holes worked in it.

Fig. 27 is a portion of deer's antler cut at both ends and broken,

FiM. 28 and 29 are two stone implements, worked out of soft lava-rock. They are respectively
50 and 70 mm. in length.

Esquimaiix, Aleutians, Kamtchadales, nor the Ainos, are essentially
earthen-pot makers, their vessels being usually wrought out of stone or
wood, and their ancient stone vessels are often met with in various
parts of Japan.

If the unquestionable resemblance between the ornamentation of
some of the fragments and similar styles of ornamentation among the
present Ainos be looked upon as indicating a community of origin,
what shall be said of the following figures of knobs found in a shell-
heap on the Upper Amazon by the lamented Prof. Hartt ? The knobs
themselves are so unlike anything figured heretofore, and yet so pre-
cisely do they resemble similar knobs which are most common in the
Omori deposits, that were they mixed with the collection it would be

TRACES OF AN EARLY RACE IN JAPAN.

265

impossible to separate them by a single character ! — even to the de-
pression on top and in front, as shown in Fig. 13.

A curious stone ornament, having the general shape of a comma,
with the big end perforated, is known as the magatama. These pe-
culiar-shaped objects are looked upon as ornaments belonging to the
primitive inhabitants of Japan, Mr. Borlase * says the traditions about
them have been handed down from mythological times.

Siebold says : " To this day they are in use among the Ainos of
Yesso and in the Kuriles, as precious ornaments, under the name of
sitogi. The inhabitants, too, of Liukiu wear a stone resembling the
magatama ,' so that this little jewel helps us to a noteworthy historic
fact, namely, to the connection which in remote times existed between
the inhabitants of the whole chain of islands from Taiwan to Kam-
tchatka."

An exhaustive examination of the Omori deposits did not reveal
anything like a magatama.

Were the Ainos cannibals ?

Repeated inquiries among eminent Japanese scholars and archaeol-
ogists, like Mr. Kanda, Mr. NinagaAva, and others, as to this question,
are always answered in the same way. Not only were they not canni-
bals, but they are reported as being so mild and gentle that murder was
never known to have occurred. So monstrous a habit would certainly
have been known and recorded, particularly in the painstaking annals
of early historians.

In conclusion, then, the Omori shell-heap presents all the leading
characteristics of the typical Kjoekkenmoedding. And the evidences

Fig. 30.

which Prof. Wyman cites as evidence of cannibalism, in the shell-heaps
of Florida and Massachusetts, are likewise present in the Omori de-
posit. The recent occupation of America by the white race renders it
difficult to determine how recent the shell-heaps along the coast may
be, since the savages when first encountered were living in much the
same condition as their ancestors had lived, just as to-day there still
exist in some parts of the world veritable Stone-age savages. In Japan,
however, where historians have chronicled with remarkable fidelity the
minute details of their history, we get, as it were, some standard for

' " Niphon and its Antiquities."

266 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

time in estimating the age of the Omori deposits. It can be stated with
absolute certainty that they are pre-Japanese ; and there are as good
reasons for believing them pre-Aino as early Aino.

I have to return my sincere thanks to the university authorities for
the zeal they have displayed in assisting me in the examination of the
deposits, and to the personal help afforded me in the excavations by
Profs. Yatabe, Toyama, and Dr. David Murray, Messrs. Matsumura,
Sasaki, Matsura, Fukuyo, and others. I made a special request that
the deposits should be completely examined during- my absence, and
this examination was most faithfully done. A much larger collection
was made with many new and curious forms of pots. I hope at some
futvire time to illustrate them.

-♦♦^-

YIKCHOW A]S^D EYOLUTION.^

By Professor JOHN TYNDALL.

THIS world of ours has, on the whole, been an inclement region for
the growth of natural truth ; but it may be that the plant is all
the hardier for the bendings and buffetings it has undergone. The
torturing of a shrub, within certain limits, strengthens it. Through
the struggles and passions of the brute, man reaches his estate ; through
savagery and barbarism his civilization ; and through illusion and per-
secution his knowledge of Nature, including that of his own frame.
The bias toward natural truth must have been strong to have with-
stood and overcome the opposing forces. Feeling appeared in the
world before knowledge ; and thoughts, conceptions, and creeds, founded
on emotion, had, befoi'e the dawn of science, taken root in man. Such
thoughts, conceptions, and creeds, must have met a deep and general
want ; otherwise their growth could not have been so luxuriant, nor
their abiding power so strong. This general need — this hunger for the
ideal and wonderful — led eventually to the differentiation of a caste,
whose vocation it Avas to cultivate the mystery of life and its surround-
ings, and to give shape, name, and habitation to the emotions which
that mystery aroused. Even the savage lived, not by bread alone, but
in a mental world peopled with forms answering to his capacities and
needs. As time advanced — in other words, as the savage opened out
into civilized man — these forms were purified and ennobled, until they
finally emerged in the mythology and art of Greece :

" "Where still the magic robe of Poesy
Wound itself lovingly around the Truth.'' ^

' Introductory chapter to a forthcoming volume of " Fragments of Science."
- " Da der Dichtung zauberische Hulle

Sich noch lieblich um die Wahrheit wand." — Schiller.

VIE CHOW AND EVOLUTION. 267

As poets the priesthood would have been justified ; their deities,
celestial and otherwise, with all their retinue and appliances, being
more or less legitimate symbols and personifications of the aspects of
Nature and the phases of the human soul. The priests, however, or
those among them who were mechanics and not poets, claimed objec-
tive validity for their conceptions, and tried to base upon external evi-
dence that which sprang from the innermost need and nature of man.
It is against this objective rendering of the emotions — this thrusting
into the region of fact and positive knowledge, of conceptions essen-
tially ideal and poetic — that science, consciously or unconsciously,
wages war. Religious feeling is as much a verity as any other part of
human consciousness ; and against it, on its subjective side, the waves
of science beat in vain. But when, manipulated by the constructive
imagination, mixed with imperfect or inaccurate historic data, and
moulded by misapplied logic, this feeling traverses our knowledge of
Nature, Science, as in duty bound, stands as a hostile power in its path.
It is against the mythologic scenery, if I may use the term, rather than
against the life and substance of rehgion, that Science enters her pro-
test. Sooner or later among thinking people, that scenery will be taken
for what it is worth — as an effort on the part of man to bring the
mystery of life and Nature within the range of his capacities ; as a
temporary and essentially fluxional rendering in terms of knowledge
of that which transcends all knowledge, and admits only of ideal ap-
proach.

The signs of the times point in this direction. It is, for example,
the obvious aim of Mr. Matthew Arnold to protect, amid the wreck of
dogma, the poetic basis of religion. And it is to be remembered that
under the circumstances poetry may be the purest accessible truth. In
other influential quarters a similar spirit is at work. In a remarkable
article published by Prof. Knight, of St. Andrews, in the September
number of the Nineteenth Century^ amid other free utterances, the
following is to be found :

"If matter is not eternal, its first emergence into being is a miracle beside
which all others dwindle into absolute insignificance. But, as has often been
pointed out, the process is unthinkable ; the sudden apocalypse of a material
world out of blank nonentity cannot be imagined;* its emergence into order
out of chaos when ' without form and void ' of life, is merely a foetic rendering
of the doctrine of its slow evolution.''''

These are all bold words to be spoken before the moral philosophy class
of a Scotch university, while those I have underlined show a remark-
able freedom of dealing with the sacred text. They repeat in fuller
language what I ventured to utter four years ago regarding the book

' Prof. Knight will have to reckon with the English Marriage Service, one of whose
collects begins very naively thus : " 0 God, who by thy mighty power hast made all
things of nothing."

268 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of Genesis : " Profoundly interesting and indeed pathetic to me are
those attempts of the opening mind of man to appease its hunger for a
Cause. But the book of Genesis has no voice in scientific questions.
It is a poem, not a scientific treatise. In the former aspect it is for-
ever beautiful; in the latter it has been, and it w^ill continue to be,
purely obstructive and hurtful." My agreement with Prof. Knight
extends still further. " Does the vital," he asks, " proceed by a still
remoter development from the non-vital ? Or was it created by a fiat
of volition ? Or " — and here he emphasizes his question — " has it
always existed in some form or other as an eternal constituent of the
universe? I do not see," he replies, "how we can escape from the
last alternative." With the whole force of my conviction I say, " Nor
do I ; " though my mode of regarding the " eternal constituent " might
diflPer from that of Prof. Knight.

When matter was defined by Descartes, he deliberately excluded
the idea of force or motion from its attributes and from his definition.
Extension only was taken into account. And, inasmuch as the impo-
tence of matter to generate motion was assumed, its observed motions
were referred to an external cause. God, resident outside of matter,
gave the impulse. In this coiuiection the argument in Young's " Night
Thoughts " will occur to most readers :

"Who Motion foreign to the smallest grain
Shot through vast masses of enormous weight?
"Who bid brute Matter's restive lump assume
Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly? "

Against this notion of Descartes the great deist John Toland, whose
ashes lie unmarked in Putney Churchyard, strenuously contended. He
affirmed motion to be an inherent attribute of matter — that no portion
of matter was at rest, and that even the most quiescent solids were ani-
mated by a motion of their ultimate particles. It seems to me that the
idea of vitality entertained in our daj^ by Prof. Knight closely resem-
bles the idea of motion entertained by his opponents in Toland's day.
Motion was then virtually asserted to be a thing sui generis, distinct
from matter, and incapable of being generated out of matter. Hence
the obvious inference when matter was observed to move. It was the
vehicle of an energy not its own — the repository of forces impressed
on it from without — the purely passive recipient of the shock of the
Divine. The form of logic continues, but the subject-matter is changed.
" The evolution of Nature," says Prof. Knight, " may be a fact ; a daily
and hourly apocalypse. But we have no evidence of the non-vital
passing into the vital. Spontaneous generation is, as yet, an imagi-
native guess, tmverified by scientific tests. And matter is not itself
alive. Vitality, whether seen in a single cell of protoplasm or in the
human brain, is a thing sid generis, distinct from matter, and incapable
of being generated out of matter." It may be, however, that, in pro-

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION. zSg

cess of time, vitality will follow the example of motion, and, after the
necessary antecedent wrangling, take its place among the attributes
of that " universal mother " who has been so often misdefined.

That " matter is not itself alive " Prof. Knight seems to regard as
an axiomatic truth. Let us place in contrast with this the notion en-
tertained by the philosopher Ueberweg, one of the subtilest heads that
Germany has produced :

" What occurs in the brain would, in my opinion, not be possible, if the
process which here appears in its greatest cojicentration did not obtain gener-
ally, only in a vastly diminished degree. Take a pair of mice and a cask of
flour. By copious noiu-ishment the animals increase and multiply, and in the
same proportion sensations and feelings augment. The quantity of these latter
possessed by the first pair is not simply diffused among their descendants, for
in that case the last must feel more feebly than the first. The sensations and
feelings must necessarily be referred back to the flour, where they exist, weak
and pale it is true, and not concentrated as they are in the brain." ^

We may not be able to taste or smell alcohol in a tub of fermented
cherries, but by distillation we obtain from them concentrated Kirsch-
wasser. Hence Ueberweg's comparison of the brain to a still, which
concentrates the sensation and feeling, preexisting, but diluted in the
food.

" Definitions," says Mr. Holyoake," " grow as the horizon of experi-
ence expands. They are not inventions, but descriptions of the state
of a question. No man sees all through, a discovery at once." Thus
Descartes's notion of matter, and his explanation of motion, would be
put aside as trivial by a physiologist or a crystallographer of the pres-
ent day. They are not descriptions of the state of the question.
And yet, it may be said in passing, a desire sometimes shows itself in
distinguished quarters to bind us down to conceptions which passed
muster in the infancy of knowledge, but which are wholly incompatible
with our present enlightenment. Mr. Martineau, I think, errs when he
seeks to hold me to views enunciated by " Democritus and the mathe-
maticians." That definitions should change as knowledge advances is
in accordance both with sound sense and scientific practice. When,
for example, the tmdulatory theory was started, it Avas not imagined
that the vibrations of light could be transverse to the direction of propa-
gation. The example of sound was at hand, which was a case of lon-
gitudinal vibration. Now, the substitution of transverse for longitu-
dinal vibrations in the case of light involved a radical change of con-
ception as to the mechanical properties of the luminiferous medium.
But, tliough this change went so far as to fill space with a substance
possessing the properties of a solid, rather than those of a gas, the
change was accepted, becausg the newly discovered facts imperatively
demanded it. Following Mr. Martineau's example, the opponent of the

■ Letter to Lange, " Geschichte des Materialismus," zweite Aufl., vol. ii., p. 521.
- Nineteenth Century, September, 18'78.

270 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

undulatory theory might effectually twit the holder of it on his change
of front. " This ether of yours," he might say, " alters its style with
every change of service. Starting as a beggar, with scarcely a rag of
' property ' to cover its bones, it turns up as a prince when large under-
takings are wanted. You had some show of reason when, with the
case of sound before. you, you assumed your ether to be a gas in the
last extremity of attenuation. But, now that new service is rendered
necessary b}^ new facts, you drop the beggar's rags, and accomplish
an undertaking, great and princely enough in all conscience ; for it
implies that not only planets of enormous weight, but comets with
hardly any weight at all, fly through your hypothetical solid without
perceptible loss of motion." This would sound very cogent, but it
would be very vain. Equally vain, in my opinion, is Mr. Martineau's
contention that we are not justified in modifying, in accordance with
advancing knowledge, our notions of matter.

Before parting from Prof. Knight, let me commend his courage as
well as his insight. We have heard much of late of the peril to mo-
rality involved in the decay of religious belief. What Mr, Knight says
under this head is worthy of all respect and attention :

" I admit that, were it proved that the moral faculty was derived as well as
developed, its present decisions would not be invalidated. The child of experi-
ence has a father whose teachings are grave, peremptory, and august ; and an earth-
born rule may be as stringent as any derived from a celestial soxu'ce. It does
not even follow that a belief in the material origin of spiritual existence, accom-
panied by a corresponding decay of belief in immortality, must necessarily lead
to a relaxation of tlie moral fibre of the race. It is certain that it has often
done so.' But it is equally certain that there have been individuals, and great
historical communities, in which the absence of the latter belief has neither
weakened moral earnestness nor prevented devotional fervor."

I have elsewhere stated that some of the best men of my acquaint-
ance— men lofty in thought and beneficent in act — belong to a class
who assiduously let the belief referred to alone. They derive from it
neither stimulus nor inspiration, while — I say it with regret — were I
in quest of persons who, in regard to the finer endowments of human
character, are to be ranked among the unendowed, I should find some
characteristic samples among the noisier defenders of the orthodox
belief. These, however, are but " hand-specimens " on both sides ; the
wider data referred to by Prof. Knight constitute, therefore, a welcome
corroboration of my experience. Again, my excellent critic, Prof.
Blackie, describes Buddha as being " a great deal more than a prophet ;
a rare, exceptional, and altogether transcendental incarnation of moral
perfection." * And yet, " what Buddha preached was a gospel of pure

' Is tbis really certain? Instead of standing in the relation of cause and effect, may
not the "decay" and "relaxation" be merely coexistent — both, perhaps, flowing from
common historic antecedents ?

2 "Natural History of Atheism," p. 136.

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION. 271

human ethics, divorced not only from Brahma and the Brahmanic Trin-
ity, but even from the existence of God." ' These civilized and gallant
voices from the North contrast pleasantly with the barbarous whoops
which sometimes come to us along the same meridian — shouts of the
Mohawk that ought not to be heard among the groves of Academe.

Looking backward from my present standpoint over the earnest
past, a boyhood fond of play and physical action, but averse to school-
work, lies before me. The aversion did not arise from intellectual
apathy or want of appetite for knowledge, but mainly from the fact
that my earliest teachers lacked the power of imparting vitality to what
they taught. Athwart all play and amusement, however, a thread of
seriousness ran through my character ; and many a sleepless night of
my childhood has been passed, fretted by the question, "Who made
God ? " I was well versed in Scripture ; for I loved the Bible, and was
prompted by that love to commit large portions of it to memory. Later
on I became adroit in turning my Scriptural knowledge against the
Church of Rome ; but the characteristic doctrines of that Church marked
only for a time the limits of inquiry. The eternal Sonship of Christ,
for example, as enunciated in the Athanasian Creed, perplexed me. The
resurrection of the body was also a thorn in my mind, and here I re-
member that a passage in Blair's " Grave " gave me momentary rest :

" . . . . Sure the same power
That rear'd the piece at first and took it down
Can reassemble the loose, scatter'd parts
And put them as they were."

The conclusion seemed for the moment entirely fair, but, with fur-
ther thought, my difficulties came back to me. I had seen cows and
sheep browsing upon churchyard grass, which sprang from the decay-
ing mould of dead men. The flesh of these animals was undoubtedly
a modification of human flesh, and the persons who fed upon them were
as undoubtedly, in part, a more remote modification of the same sub-
stance. I figured the self-same molecules as belonging first to one body
and afterward to a different one, and asked myself how two bodies so
related could possibly arrange their claims at the day of resurrection.
The scattered parts of each were to be reassembled and set as they
were. But, if handed over to the one, how could they possibly enter
into the composition of the other ? Omnipotence itself, I concluded,
could not reconcile the contradiction. Thus the plank which Blair's
mechanical theory of the resurrection brought momentarily into sight
disappeared, and I was again cast abroad on the waste ocean of specu-
lation.

At the same time I could by no means get rid of the idea that the
aspects of Nature and the consciousness of man implied the operation
of a power altogether beyond my grasp — an energy the thought of

' " Natural History of Atheism," p. 125.

272 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which raised the temperature of the mind, though it refused to accept
shape, personal or otherwise, from the intellect. Perhaps the able
critics of the Saturday Review are justified in speaking as they some-
times do of Mr. Carlyle. They owe him nothing, and have a right to
announce the fact in their own way. I, on the other hand, owe him a
great deal, and am also in honor bound to acknowledge the debt. Few,
perhaps, who are privileged to come into contact with that illustrious
man have shown him a sturdier front than I have, or in discussing mod-
ern science have more frequently withstood him. But I could see that
his contention at bottom always was that the human soul has claims and
yearnings which physical science cannot satisfy. England to come will
assuredly thank him for his affirmation of the ethical and ideal side of
human nature. Be this as it may, at the period now reached in my
story, the feeling above referred to was indefinitely strengthened, my
whole life being at the same time rendered more earnest, resolute, and
laborious, by the writings of Carlyle. In this relation I cared little for
political theories or philosophic systems, but I cared a great deal for the
propagated life and strength of pure and powerful minds. At school
I had picked up some mathematics and physics ; my -stock of both was,
however, scanty, and I resolved to augment it. But it was really with
the view of learning whether mathematics and physics could help me
in other spheres, rather than with the desire of acquiring distinction in
either science, that I resolved, in 1848, to break the continuity of my
life, and to devote the meagre funds I had then collected to the study
of science in Germany.

But science soon fascinated me on its own account ; and I could see
that, to carry it duly and honestly out, moral qualities were incessantly
invoked. There was no room allowed for insincerity — no room even
for carelessness. The edifice of science had been raised by men who
had unswervingly followed the truth as it is in Nature ; and in doing
so had often sacrificed interests which are usually potent in this world.
Among these rationalistic men of Germany conscientiousness in work
was as much insisted on as it could be among theologians. And why,
since they had not the rewards or penalties of the theologian to offer to
their disciples ? Because they asslimed, and were justified in assuming,
that those whom they addressed had that within them which would re-
spond to their appeal. If Germany should ever change for something-
less noble the simple earnestness and fidelity to duty which in those
days characterized her teachers, and through them her sons generally,
it will not be because of rationalism. Such a decadent Germany might
coexist with the most rampant rationalism without their standing to
each other in the relation of cause and effect.

My first really laborious investigation landed me in a region which
harmonized with my speculative tastes. It was essentially an inquiry
in molecular physics, having reference to the curious, and then perplex-
ing, phenomena exhibited by crystals when freely suspended in the

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION.

273

magnetic field, I here lived amid the most complex operations of mag-
netism in its twofold aspect of an attractive and a repellent force. Iron
was attracted by a magnet, bismuth was repelled, and the crystals oper-
ated on ranged themselves under these two heads. Faraday and Plticker
had worked assiduously at the subject, and had invoked the aid of new
forces to account for the phenomena. It was soon, however, found that
the displacement, in a crystal, of an atom of the iron class by an atom
of the bismuth class, without any change of crystalline form, produced
a complete reversal of the phenomena. The lines through the crystal
which were in the one case di'awn toward the poles of the magnet, were
driven in the other case from these poles. By such instances and the
reasoning which they suggested, magne-crystallic action was proved to
be due, not to the operation of new forces, but to the modification of
the old ones by molecular arrangement. Whether diamagnetism, like
magnetism, was a polar force, was in those days a subject of the most
lively contention. It was finally proved to be so ; and the most com-
plicated cases of magne-crystallic action were immediately shown to be
simple mechanical consequences of the principle of diamagnetic polarity.
These early researches, which occupied in all five years of my life, and
during which the molecular architecture of crystals was an incessant
subject of mental contemplation, gave a tinge and bias to my subsequent
scientific thought, and their influence is easily traced in my subsequent
inquiries. For example, during nine long years of labor on the subject
of radiation, heat and light were handled throughout by me, not as ends,
but as instruments by the aid of which the mind might perchance lay
hold upon the ultimate particles of matter.

Scientific progress depends on two factors which incessantly interact
— the strengthening of the mind by exercise and the illumination of
phenomena by knowledge. There seems no limit to the insight regard-
ing physical processes which this interaction carries in its train. Through
such insight we are enabled to enter and explore that subsensible world
into which all natural phenomena strike their roots, and from which they
derive nutrition. By it we are enabled to place before the mind's eye
atoms and atomic motions which lie far beyond the range of the senses,
and to apply to them reasoning as stringent as that applied by the
mechanician to the motions and collisions of sensible masses. But, once
committed to such conceptions, there is the risk of being led irresistibly
beyond the bounds of inorganic Nature. Even in these early stages of
scientific development I found myself more and more compelled to re-
gard not only crystals, but organic structures, the body of man inclusive,
as cases of molecular architecture, infinitely more complex, it is true,
than those of inorganic Nature, but reducible, in the long-run, to the
same mechanical laws. In ancient journals I find recorded ponderings
and speculations relating to these subjects, and attempts made, by ref-
erence to magnetic and crystalline phenomena, to present some satis-
factory image to the mind of the way in which plants and animals are

VOL. SIT. — 18

274 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

built up. Perhaps I may be excused for noting a sample of these early-
speculations, already possibly known to a few of my readers, but which
here finds a more suitable place than that which it formerly occupied.

Sitting, in the summer of 1855, with my friend Dr. Debus under
the shadow of a massive elm on the bank of a river in Normandy, the
current of our thoughts and conversation was substantially this : We
regarded the tree above us. In opposition to gravity its molecules had
ascended, diverged into branches, and budded into innumerable leaves.
What caused them to do so — a power external to themselves, or an
inherent force ? Science rejects the outside builder ; let us, therefore,
consider from the other point of view the experience of the present
year. A low temperature had kejDt back for weeks the life of the vege-
table world. But at length the sun gained power — or, rather, the
cloud-screen which our atmosphere had drawn between him and us was
removed — and life immediately kindled under his warmth. But what
is life, and how can solar light and heat thus affect it ? Near our elm
was a silver-birch, with its leaves rapidly quivering in the morning air.
We had here motion, but not the motion of life. Each leaf moved as
a mass under the influence of an outside force, while the motion of life
was inherent and molecular. How are we to figure this molecular mo-
tion— the forces which it implies, and the results which flow from them ?
Suppose the leaves to be shaken from the birch-tree and enabled to
attract and repel each other. To fix the ideas, suppose the point of
each leaf to repel all other points and to attract the other ends, and the
root of each leaf to repel all other roots, but to attract the points. The
leaves would then resemble an assemblage of little magnets abandoned
freely to the interaction of their own forces. In obedience to these
they would arrange themselves, and finally assume positions of rest,
forming a coherent mass. Let us suppose the breeze, which now causes
them to quiver, to disturb the assumed equilibrium. As often as dis-
turbed there would be a constant efi"ort on the part of the leaves to re-
establish it ; and in making this effort the mass of leaves would pass
through different shapes and forms. If other leaves, moreover, were
at hand endowed with similar forces, the action would extend to them
— a growth of the mass of leaves being the consequence.

We have strong reason for assuming that the ultimate particles of
matter — the atoms and molecules of which it is made up — are endowed
with forces coarsely typified by those here ascribed to the leaves. The
phenomena of crystallization lead, of necessity, to this conception of
molecular polarity. Under the operation of such forces the molecules
of a seed, like our fallen leaves in the first instance, take up positions
from which they would never move if undisturbed by an external im-
pulse. But solar light and heat, which come to us as waves through
space, are the great agents of molecular disturbance. On the inert
molecules of seed and soil these waves impinge, disturbing the atomic

VIE CROW AND EVOLUTION. 275

equilibrium, which there is an immediate effort to restore. The effort,
incessantly defeated — for the waves continue to pour in — is incessantly
renewed; in the molecular struggle, matter is gathered from the soil
and from the atmosphere, and built, in obedience to the forces which
guide the molecules, into the special form of the tree. In a general way,
therefore, the life of the tree might be defined as an unceasing effort
to restore a disturbed equilibrium. In the building of crystals, Nature
makes her first structural effort ; we have here the earliest groping of
the so-called " vital force," and the manifestations of this force in plants
and animals, though, as already stated, indefinitely more complex, are
to be regai'ded of the same mechanical quality as those concerned in
the building of the crystal.

Consider the cycle of operations by which the seed produces the
plant, the plant the flower, the flower again the seed, the causal line
returning with the fidelity of a planetary orbit to its original point of
departure. Who or Avhat planned this molecular rhythm ? We do not
know — science fails even to inform us whether it was ever " planned "
at all. Yonder butterfly has a spot of orange on its wing ; and if we
look at a drawing made a century ago, of one of the ancestors of that
butterfly, we probably find the self-same spot upon the wing. For a
century the molecules have described their cycles. Butterflies have
been begotten, have been born, and have died ; still we find the molecu-
lar architecture reproduced. Who or what determined this persistency
of recurrence ? We do not know ; but we stand within our intellectual
range when we say that there is probably nothing in that wing which
may not yet find its Newton to prove that the principles involved in its
construction are qualitatively the same as those brought into play in the
formation of the solar system. We may even take a step further, and
afiirm that the brain of man — the organ of his reason and his sense —
without which he can neither think nor feel — is also an assemblage of
molecules, acting and reacting according to law. Here, however, the
methods pursued in mechanical science come to an end ; and if asked
to deduce from the physical interaction of the brain-molecules the least
of the phenomena of sensation or thought, we must acknowledge our
helplessness. The association of both with the matter of the brain may
be as certain as the association of light with the rising of the sun. But
whereas in the latter case we have unbroken mechanical connection
between the sun and our organs, in the former case logical continuity
disappears. Between molecular mechanics and consciousness is inter-
posed a fissure, over which the ladder of physical reasoning is incom-
petent to carry us. We must, therefore, accept the observed associa-
tion as an empirical fact, without being able to bring it under the yoke
of a priori deduction.

Such were the ponderings which ran habitually through my mind in
the days of my scientific youth. They illustrate two things : a determi-

Z76 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

nation to push physical considerations to their utmost legitimate limit ;
and an acknowledgment that physical considerations do not lead to
the final explanation of all that we feel and know. This acknowledg-
ment, be it said in passing, was by no means made with the view of
providing room for the play of considerations other than physical.
The same intellectual duality, if I may use the phrase, manifests itself
in the following extract fi'om an article published in the Saturday Me-
vieio for August 4, 1860 :

" The philosophy of the future will assuredly take more account than that
of the past of the dependence of thought and feeling on physical processes; and
it may be that the qualities of the mind will be studied through organic com-
binations as we now study the character of a force through the affections of
ordinary matter. We believe that every thought and every feeling has its defi-
nite mechanical correlative — that it is accompanied by a certain breaking up
and remarshaling of the atoms of the brain. This latter process is purely physi-
cal ; and, were the faculties we now possess sufBciently expanded, without the
creation of any new faculty, it would doubtless be within the range of our aug-
mented powers to infer from the molecular state of the brain the character of
the thought acting on it, and conversely to infer from the thought the exact
molecular condition of the brain. "We do not say — and this, as will be seen, is
all-important — that the inference here referred to would be an a priori one.
But by observing, with the faculties we assume, the state of the brain, and the
associated mental affections, both might be so tabulated side by side that, if one
were given, a mere reference to the table would declare the other. Our present
powers, it is true, shrivel into nothingness when brought to bear on such a
problem, but it is because of its complexity and our limits that this is the case.
The quality of the problem and of our powers are, we believe, so related that
a mere expansion of the latter would enable them to cope with the former.
Why, then, in scientific speculation should we turn our eyes exclusively to the
past? May it not be that a time is coming — ages no doubt distant, but still
advancing— when the dwellers upon this earth, starting from the gross human
brain of to-day as a rudiment, may be able to apply to these mighty questions
faculties of commensurate extent? Given the requisite expansibility to the
present senses and intelhgence of man — given also the time necessary for their
expansion — and this high goal may be attained. Development is all that is re-
quired, and not a change of quality. There need be no absolute breach of con-
tinuity between us and our loftier brothers yet to come.

" We have guarded ourselves against saying that the inferring of thought
from material combinations and arrangements would be an inference a priori.
The inference meant would be the same in kind as that which the observation
of the effects of food and drink upon the mind would enable us to make, differ-
ing only from the latter in the degree of analytical insight which we suppose
attained. Given the masses and distances of the planets, we can infer the per-
turbations consequent on their mutual attractions. Given the nature of a dis-
turbance in water, air, or ether — knowing the physical quahties of the medium
— we can infer how its particles will he affected. In all this we deal with physi-
cal laws. The mind runs with certainty along the line of thoughts which con-
nect the phenomena, and from beginning to end there is no break in the chain.
But when we endeavor to pass by a similar process from the phenomena of
physics to those of thought, we meet a problem which transcends any conceiv-

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION. zyj

able expansion of the powers which we now possess. We may think over the
subject again and again, but it eludes all intellectual presentation. Tlie territory
of physics is wide, but it has its limits from which we look with vacant gaze
into the region beyond. Let us follow matter to its utmost bounds, let us claim
it in all its forms— even in the muscles, blood, and brain of man himself, it is
ours to experiment with and to speculate upon. Casting the term ' vital force '
from our vocabulary, let us reduce, if we can, the visible phenomena of life to
mechanical attractions and repulsions. Having thus exhausted physics, and
reached its very rim, a mighty mystery still looms beyond us. "We have, in fact,
made no step toward its solution. And thus it will ever loom, compelling the
philosophies of successive ages to confess that —

. . . . ' we are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded by a sleep.' "

In my work on " Heat," first published in 1863, I employ the precise
language here extracted from the Saturday Review.

In this extract a distinction is revealed which I had resolved at all
hazards to draw — that, namely, between what men knew or might
know, and what they could never hope to know. Impart simple mag-
nifying power to our present vision, and the atomic motions of the
brain itself might be brought into view. Compare these motions with
the corresponding states of consciousness, and an empirical nexus might
be established ; but " we try to soar in a vacuum when we endeavor to
pass by logical deduction from the one to the other." Among those
brain-effects a new product appears which defies mechanical treatment.
We cannot deduce consciousness from motion, or motion from conscious-
ness, as we deduce one motion from another. Nevertheless observation
is open to us, and by it relations may be established which are at least
as valid as the conclusions of deductive reason. Tlie difficulty may
really lie in the attempt to convert a datum into an inference — an ulti-
mate fact into a product of logic. My desire for the moment, how-
ever, is, not to theorize, but to let fact speak in reply to accusation.

The most " materialistic " speculation for which I am responsible,
prior to the " Belfast Address," is embodied in the following extract
from a brief article written as far back as 1865 :

" Supposing the molecules of the human body, instead of replacing others,
and thus renewing a preexisting form, to be gathered first-hand from Nature,
and placed in the exact relative positions which they occupy in the body.
Supposing them to have the same forces and distribution of forces, the same
motions and distribution of motions — would this organized concourse of mole-
cules stand before us as a sentient, thinking being? There seems no valid rea-
son to assume that it would not. Or, supposing a planet carved from the sun set
spinning round an axis, and sent revolving round the sun at a distance equal
to that of our earth, would one consequence of the refrigeration of the mass be
the development of organic forms? I lean to the affirmative."

This may be plain speaking, but it is without "dogmatism." An opin-
ion is expressed, a belief, a leaning — not an established " doctrine,"

278 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The burden of my writings in this connection is as much a recognition
of the weakness of science as an assertion of its strength. In 1867 I
told the working-men of Dundee that while making the largest demand
for freedom of investigation ; while considering science to be alike
powerful as an instrument of intellectual culture, and as a ministrant
to the material wants of men — if asked whether science has solved, or
is likely in our day to solve, " the problem of the universe," I must
shake my head in doubt. I compare the mind of man to a musical in-
strument with a certain range of notes, beyond which in both directions
exists infinite silence. The phenomena of matter and force come with-
in our intellectual range ; but behind, and above, and around us, the
real mystery of the universe lies unsolved, and, as far as we are con-
cerned, is incapable of solution.

While refreshing my mind on these old themes I am struck by the
poverty of my own thought ; appearing to myself as a person possess-
ing one idea, which so overmasters him that he is never weary of re-
peating it. That idea is the polar conception of the grandeur and the
littleness of man — the vastness of his range in some respects and direc-
tions, and his powerlessness to take a single step in others. In 1868,
before the mathematical and physical section of the British Association,
then assembled at Norwich, I repeat the same well-worn note :

" In aflBrming the growth of the human body to be mechanical, and thought as
exercised by us to have its correlative in the physics of the brain, the position
of the ' materialist,' as far as that position is tenable, is stated. I think the
materialist will be able finally to maintain this position against all attacks, buls
I do not think he can pass beyond it. The problem of the connection of body
and soul is as insoluble in its modern form as it was in the prescientific ages.
Phosphorus is a constituent of the human brain, and a trenchant German writer
has exclaimed, 'Ohne Phospor kein Gedanke! ' That may or may not be the
case ; but, even if we knew it to be the case, the knowledge would not lighten
our darkness. On both sides of the zone here assigned to the materialist, he is
equally helpless. If you ask him whence is this 'matter,' of which we have
been discoursing — who or what divided it into molecules, and impressed upon
them this necessity of running into organic forms — he has no answer. Science
is also mute in regard to such questions. But if the materialist is confounded,
and Science is rendered dumb, who else is prepared with an answer ? Let us
lower our heads and acknowledge our ignorance, priest and philosopher, one
and all."

The roll of echoes which succeeded the lecture delivered by Prof.
Virchow at Munich on September 32, 1877, was long and loud. The
Times published a nearly full translation of the lecture, and it was
eagerly commented on in other journals. Glances from it to an ad-
dress delivered by me before the Midland Institute last autumn were
very frequent. Prof. Virchow was held up to me in some quarters as a
model of philosophic caution, who by his reasonableness reproved my
rashness and by his depth reproved my shallowness. With true theo-
logic courtesy I was sedulously emptied not only of "the principles of

VIE CHOW AND EVOLUTION. 279

scientific thought," but of " common modesty " and " common sense."
And, though I am indebted to Prof. Clifford for recalling in the Nine-
teenth Century for April the public mind in this connection from heated
fancy to sober fact, I do not think a brief additional examination of
Virchow's views, and of my relation to them, will be out of place here.
The key-note of his position is struck in the preface to the excellent
English translation of his lecture — a preface written expressly by him-
self. Nothing, he says, was further from his intention than any wish
to disparage the great services rendered by Mr. Darwin to the advance-
ment of biological science, of which no one has expressed more admira-
tion than himself. On the other hand, it seemed high time to him to
enter an energetic protest against the attempts that are made to pro-
claim the problems of research as actual facts, and the opinions of scien-
tists as established science. On the ground, among others, that it pro-
motes the pernicious delusions of the socialists, Virchow considers the
theory of evolution dangerous ; but his fidelity to truth is so great that
he would brave the danger and teach the theory, if it were only proved.
The burden indeed of this celebrated lecture is a warning that a marked
distinction ought to be made between that which is experimentally
established, and that which is still in the region of speculation. As to
the latter, Virchow by no means imposes silence. He is far too sa-
gacious a man to commit himself, at the present time of day, to any
such absurdity. But he insists that it ought not to be put on the same
evidential level as the former. " It ought," as he poetically expresses
it "to be written in small letters under the text." The audience
ouo-ht to be warned that the speculative matter is only ^906!S?We, not
actual truth — that it belongs to the region of " belief," and not to that
of demonstration. As long as a problem continues in this speculative
stage it would be mischievous, he considers, to teach it in our schools.
" We ought not," he urges, " to represent our conjecture as a certainty,
nor our hypothesis as a doctrine : this is inadmissible." With regard
to the connection between physical processes and mental phenomena he
says : " I will, indeed, willingly grant that we can find certain grada-
tions, certain definite points at which we trace a passage from mental
processes to processes purely physical, or of a physical character.
Throughout this discourse I am not asserting that it will never be pos-
sible to bring psychical processes into an immediate connection with
those that are physical. All I say is, that we have at present no right
to set up this 2^ossible connection as a doctrine of science." In the
next paragraph he reiterates his position with reference to the intro-
duction of such topics into school-teaching. "We must draw," he
says, " a strict distinction between what we wish to teach and what we
wish to search for. The objects of our research are expressed as prob-
lems (or hypotheses). We need not keep them to ourselves ; tee are
ready to communicate them to all the W07'ld, and say, ' There is the prob-
lem ; that is what we strive for.' . . . Tlie investigation of such problems,

28o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

in which the whole nation may be interested, cannot be restricted to
any one. This is freedom of inquiry. But the problem (or hypothesis)
is not, without further debate, to be made a doctrine.'''' He will not
concede to Dr. Haeckel " that it is a question for the schoolmasters to
decide, whether the Darwinian theory of man's descent should be at
once laid down as the basis of instruction, and the protoplastic soul be
assumed as the foundation of all ideas concerning spiritual being."
The professor concludes his lecture thus : " With perfect truth did Ba-
con say of old, ' Scientia est potential' But he also defined that knowl-
edge ; and the knowledge he meant was not speculative knowledge,
not the knowledge of hypotheses, but it was objective and actual knowl-
edge. Gentlemen, I think we should be abusing our power, we should
be imperiling our power, unless in our teaching we restrict ourselves
to this perfectly safe and unassailable domain. From this domain we
tnay tnake incursions into the field of problems, and I am sure that
every venture of that kind will then find all needful security and sup-
port." I have emphasized by italics two sentences in the foregoing
series of quotations ; the other italics are the author's own.

Virchow's position could not be made clearer by any comments of
mine than he has here made it himself. That position is one of the
highest practical importance. " Throughout our whole German Father-
land," he says, " men are busied in renovating, extending, and devel-
oping the system of education, and in inventing fixed forms in which
to mould it. On the threshold of coming events stands the Prussian
law bf education. In all the German states larger schools are being
built, new educational establishments are set up, the universities are
extended, ' higher ' and ' middle ' schools are founded. Finally comes
the question, 'What is to be the chief substance of the teaching?'"
What, in regard to science, Virchow thinks it ought and ought not to
be, is disclosed by the foregoing quotations. There ought to be a clear
distinction made between science in the state of hypothesis and science
in the state of fact. From school-teaching the former ought to be
excluded. And, inasmuch as it is still in its hypothetical stage, the
ban of exclusion ought to fall upon the theory of evolution.

I now freely ofier myself for judgment before the tribunal whose
law is here laid down. First and foremost, then, I have never advo-
cated the introduction of the theory of evolution into our schools. I
should even be disposed to resist its introduction before its meaning
had been better understood and its utility more fully recognized than
it is now by the great body of the commimity. The theory ought, I
think, to bide its time until the free conflict of discovery, argument,
and opinion, has won for it this recognition. In dealing with the com-
munity great changes must have timeliness as well as truth upon their
side. But, if the mouths of thinkers are stopped, the necessary social
preparation will be impossible ; an unwholesome divorce will be estab-

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION. 281

lished between the expert and the public, and the slow and natural
process of leavening the social lump by discovery and discussion will
be displaced by something far less safe and salutary. On this count,
then, I claim acquittal, being for the moment on the side of Virchow.

In a discourse delivered before the British Association at Liverpool,
after speaking of the theory of evolution applied to the primitive con-
dition of matter as belonging to " the dim twilight of conjecture," and
affirming that " the certainty of experimental inquiry is here shut out,"
I sketch the nebular theory as enunciated by Kant and Laplace, and
afterward proceed thus :

" Accepting some such view of the construction of onr system as X'^ohable^ a
desire immediately arises to connect the present life of our planet with the past.
"We wish to know something of our remotest ancestry. On its first detachment
from the sun, life, as we understand it, could not have heen present on the earth.
How, then, did it come there ? The thing to be encouraged here is a reverent
freedom — a freedom preceded by the hard discipline which checks licentiousness
in speculation — while the thing to be repressed, both in science and out of it,
is dogmatism. And here I am in the hands of the meeting, willing to end but
ready to go on. I have no right to intrude upon you unasked the unformed
notions tchich are floating like clouds or gathering to more solid consistency in
the modern speculative mindy

I then notice more especially the theory of evolution :

"Those who hold the doctrine of evolution are ly no means ignorant of the
uncertainty of their data, and they only yield to it a provisional assent. They
regard the nebular hypothesis as probable ; and, in the utter absence of any
proof of the illegality of the act, they prolong the method of Nature from the
present into the past. Here the observed uniformity of Nature is their only
guide. Having determined tlie elements of their curve in a world of observa-
tion and experiment, they prolong' that curve into an antecedent world, and
accept as probable the unbroken sequence of development from the nebula to
the present time."

Thus it appears that, long antecedent to the publication of his advice, I
did exactly what Prof. Virchow recommends, showing myself as care-
ful as he could be not to claim for a scientific doctrine a certainty which
did not belong to it.

I now pass on to the " Belfast Address," and will cite at once from
it the passage which has given rise to the most violent animadversion :

" Believing as I do in the continuity of Nature, I cannot stop abruptly where
our microscopes cease to be of use. At tliis point the vision of the mind authori-
tatively supplements that of the eye. By an intellectual necessity I cross the
boundary of the experimental evidence, and discern in tliat 'matter' which we,
in our ignorance of its latent powers, and notwithstanding our professed rever-
ence for its Creator, have hitherto covered with opprobrium, the promise and
potency of all terrestrial life."

Without halting for a moment I go on to do the precise thing which
Prof. Virchow declares to be necessary :

282 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"If you ask me whether there exists the least evidence to prove that any
form of life can be developed out of matter independently of antecedent life, my
reply is that evidence considered perfectly conclusive by many has been adduced,
and that were we to follow a common example, and accept testimony because it
falls in with our belief, we should eagerly close with the evidence referred to.
But those to whom I refer as having studied this question, believing the evidence
offered in favor of ' spontaneous generation ' to be vitiated by error, cannot ac-
cept it. They know fall weU that the chemist now prepares from inorganic
matter a vast array of substances, which were some time ago regarded as the
products solely of vitahty. They are intimately acquainted with the structural
power of matter, as evidenced in the phenomena of crystallization. They can
justify scientifically their 'belief in its potency, under the proper conditions, to
produce organisms. But, in reply to your question, they will frankly admit
their inabihty to point to any satisfactory experimental proof that life can be
developed, save from demonstrable antecedent life." *

Three years subsequently it fell to my lot to address the members
of the Midland Institute at Birmingham, and a very few ^yords will re-
veal the grounds of my reference on that occasion to the " Theory of
Descent." " Ten years have elapsed," said Dr. Hooker at Norwich in
1868," " since the publication of ' The Origin of Species by Natural
Selection,' and it is therefore not too early now to ask what progress
that bold theory has made in scientific estimation. Since the ' Origin'
appeared it has passed through four English editions,' two American,
two German, two French, several Russian, a Dutch, and an Italian. So
far from Natural Selection being a thing of the past (the AthencBum
had stated it to be so), it is an accepted doctrine with almost every
philosophical naturalist, including, it will always be understood, a con-
siderable proportion who are not prepared to admit that it accounts for
all Mr, Darwin assigns to it." In the following year, at Innspruck,
Helmholtz took up the same ground. Another decade has now passed,
and he is simply blind who cannot see the enormous progress made by
the theory during that time. Some of the outward and visible signs
of this advance are readily indicated. The hostility and fear which so
long prevented the recognition of Mr. Darwin by his own university
have vanished, and this year Cambridge, amid universal acclamation,
conferred on him her Doctor's degree. The Academy of Sciences in
Paris, which had so long persistently closed its doors against him, has
also yielded at last ; while sermons, lectures, and published articles,
plainly show that even the clergy have, to a great extent, become ac-
climatized to the Darwinian air. My reference to Mr. Darwin in the
Birmingham Address was based upon the knowledge that such changes
had been accomplished, and were still going on.

That the lecture of Prof. Virchow can to any practical extent dis-

* Quoted by Clifford, Nineteenth Century, iii., p. '726.

* President's Address to the British Association.

2 Published by Mr. John Murray, the English publisher of Virchow's lecture. Bane
and antidote are thus impartially distributed by the same hand.

VIE CHOW AND EVOLUTION. 283

turb this progress of public faith in the theory of evolution, I do not
believe. That the special lessons of caution which he inculcates were
exemplified by me, years before his voice was heard upon this subject,
has been proved in the foregoing pages. It is possible to draw the
coincident lines still further, for most of what he has said about sponta-
neous generation might have been uttered by me. I share his opinion
that the theory of evolution in its complete form involves the assump-
tion that at some period or other of the earth's history there occurred
what would be now called " spontaneous generation." I agree with
him that " the proofs of it are still wanting. . . . Whoever," he says,
"recalls to mind the lamentable failure of all the attempts made very
recently to discover a decided support for the generatio cequivoca in
the lower forms of transition from the inorganic to the organic world
will feel it doubly serious to demand that this theory, so utterly dis-
credited, should be in any way accepted as the basis of all our views of
life." I hold with Virchow that the failures have been lamentable, that
the doctrine is utterly discredited. But my position here is so well
known that I need not dwell upon it further.

With one special utterance of Prof. Virchow his translator couuects
me by name. "I have no objection," observes the professor, "to your
saying that atoms of carbon also possess mind, or that in their connec-
tion with the Plastidule company they acquire mind ; only I do not
know hoio I am to perceive thisy This is substantially what I had
said seventeen years previously in the Saturday Hevieio. The pro-
fessor continues : " If I explain attraction and repulsion as exhibitions
of mind, as psychical phenomena, I simply throw the Psj'che out of the
window, and the Psjxhe ceases to be a Psyche." I may say, in pass-
ing, that the Psyche that coidd be cast out of the window is not worth
house-room. At this point the translator, who is evidently a man of
culture, strikes in with a foot-note : " As an illustration of Prof. Vir-
chow's meaning, we may quote the conclusion at which Dr. Tyndall
arrives respecting the hypothesis of a human soul, oflfered as an ex-
planation or a simplification of a series of obscure phenomena — psychi-
cal phenomena, as he calls them. *If jou are content to make your
soul a poetic rendering of a phenomenon which refuses the yoke of
ordinary physical laws, I, for one, would not object to this exercise of
ideality.' " ^ Prof. Virchow's meaning, I admit, required illustration ;
but I do not clearly see how the quotation from me subserves this pur-
pose. I do not even know whether I am cited as meriting praise or
deserving opprobrium. In a far coarser fashion this utterance of mine
has been dealt with in another place : it may therefore be worth while
to spend a few words upon it.

The sting of a wasp at the finger-end announces itself to the brain
as pain. The impression made by the sting travels, in the first place,

1 Presidential Address delivered before the Birmingham and Midland Institute, Octo-
ber 1, 187Y. Fortnightly Review, November 1, 1877, p. 607.

284 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

with comparative slowness along the nerves affected ; and only when
it reaches the brain have we the fact of consciousness. Those who
think most profoundly on this subject hold that a chemical change,
which, strictly interpreted, is atomic motion, is, in such a case, propa-
gated along the nerve, and communicated to the brain. Again, on
feeling the sting 1 flap the insect violently away. What has caused
this motion of my hand ? The command to remove the insect travels
from the brain along the motor nerves to the proper muscles, and, their
force being unlocked, they perform the work demanded of them. But
what moved the nerve-molecules which unlocked the muscle ? The
sense of pain, it may be replied. But how can a sense of pain, or any
other state of consciousness, make matter move ? Not all the sense of
pain or pleasure in the world could lift a stone or move a billiard-ball ;
why should it stir a molecule '? Try to express the motion numerically
in terms of the sensation, and the difficulty immediately appears.
Hence the idea long ago entertained by philosophers, but lately
brought into special prominence, that the physical processes are com-
plete in themselves, and would go on just as they do if consciousness
were not at all implicated. Consciousness, on this view, is a kind of
by-product inexpressible in terms of force and motion, and unessential
to the molecular changes going on in the brain.
Four years ago I wrote thus :

" Do states of consciousness enter as links into the chain of antecedence and
sequence which gives rise to bodily actions ? Speaking for myself, it is certain
that I have no power of imagining such states interposed between tlie molecules
of the brain, and influencing the transference of motion among the molecules-
The thing ' eludes all mental presentation.' Hence an iron strength seems to
belong to the logic which claims for the brain an automatic action uninfluenced
by consciousness. But it is, I believe, admitted, by those who hold the autom-
aton theory, that consciousness is, produced by the motion of the molecules of
the brain ; and this production of consciousness by molecular motion is to me
quite as unpresentable to the mental vision as the production of molecular
motion by consciousness. If I reject one result I must reject both. /, however,
reject neither, and thus stand in the presence of two incomprehensibles instead
of one incomprehensible."

Here I secede from the automaton theory, though maintained by
friends who have all my esteem, and fall back upon the avowal which
occurs with such wearisome iteration throughout the foregoing pages ;
namely, my own utter incapacity to grasp the problem.

This avowal is repeated with emphasis in the passage to which
Prof. Virchow's translator draws attention. What, I there ask, is the
causal connection between the objective and the subjective — between
molecular motions and states of consciousness ? My answer is : I do
not see the connection, nor am I acquainted with anybody who does.
It is no explanation to say that the objective and subjective are two
sides of one and the same phenomenon. Why should the phenomenon

VIE CHOW AND EVOLUTION. 285

have two sides ? This is the very core of the difficulty. There are
plenty of molecular motions which do not exhibit this two-sideness.
Does water think or feel when it runs into frost-ferns upon a window-
pane ? If not, why should the molecular motion of the brain be yoked
to this mysterious companion — consciousness ? AYe can form a co-
herent picture of all the purely physical processes — the stirring of the
brain, the thrilling of the nerves, the discharging of the muscles, and
all the subsequent motions of the organism. We are here dealing with
mechanical problems which are mentally presentable. But we can form
no picture of the process whereby consciousness emerges either as a
necessary link or as an accidental by-product of this series of actions.
The reverse process of the production of motion by consciousness is
equally unpresentable to the mind. We are here, in fact, on the boun-
dary-line of the intellect, where the ordinary canons of science fail to
extricate us from difficulty. If we are true to these canons, we must
deny to subjective phenomena all influence on physical processes. The
mechanical philosopher, as such, will never place a state of conscious-
ness and a gi'oup of molecules in the relation of mover and moved.
Observation proves them to interact ; but, in passing from the one to
the other, we meet a blank which the logic of deduction is unable to
fill. This, the reader will remember, is the conclusion at which I had
arrived more than twent}^ years ago. I lay bare unsparingly the cen-
tral difficulty of the materialist, and tell him that the facts of observa-
tion which he considers so simple are " almost as difficult to be seized
mentally as the idea of a soul." I go further, and saj^, in eflFect, to
those who wish to retain this idea, " If you abandon the interpretations
of grosser minds, who image the soul as a Psyche which could be
thrown out of the window — an entity which is usually occupied, we
know not how, among the molecules of the brain, but which on due
occasion, such as the intrusion of a bullet or the blow of a club, can fly
away into other regions of space — if, abandoning this heathen notion,
you approach the subject in the only way in which approach is possible
— if you consent to make your soul a poetic rendering of a phenomenon
which, as I have taken more pains than anybody else to show you,
refuses the joke of ordinary phj^sical laws — then I, for one, would not
object to this exercise of ideality." I say it strongly, but with good
temper, that the theologian, or the defender of theology, who hacks
and scourges me for putting the question in this light is guilty of black
ino-ratitude.

D

Notwithstanding the agreement thus far pointed out, there are
certain points in Prof. Yirchow's lecture to which I should feel inclined
to take exception. I think it was hardly necessary to associate the
theory of evolution with socialism ; it may be even questioned whether
it was correct to do so. As Lange remarks, the aim of socialism, or of
its extreme leaders, is to overthrow the existing systems of government.

286 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and anything that helps them to this end is welcomed, whether it be
atheism or papal infallibility. For long years the Socialists saw church
and state united against them, and both were therefore regarded with
a common hatred. But no sooner does a serious difference arise between
church and state, than a portion of the Socialists begin immediately
to dally with the former.' The experience of the last German elections
illustrates Lange's position. Far nobler and truer to my mind than
this fear of promoting socialism by a scientific theory which the best
and soberest heads in the world have substantially accepted, is the
position assumed by Helmholtz, who in his "Popular Lectures" de-
scribes Darwin's theory as embracing "an essentially new creative
thought" (einen wesentlich neuen schopferischen Gedanken), and who
illustrates the greatness of this thought by copious references to the
solutions, previously undreamed of, which it offers of the enigmas of
life and organization. One point in this " popular" exposition deserves
especial mention here. Helmholtz refers to the dominant position
acquired by Germany in physiology and medicine, while other nations
have kept abreast of her in the investigation of inorganic Nature. He
claims for German men the credit of pursuing with unflagging zeal and
self-denying industry, guided by ideal aims, and without any immediate
prospect of practical utility, the cultivation of pure science. But that
which has determined German superiority in the fields referred to was,
in his opinion, something different from this. Inquiries as to the nature
of life are intimately connected with psychological and ethical ques-
tions ; and he claims for his countrymen a greater fearlessness of the
consequences which a full knowledge of the truth may here carry along
with it than reigns among the inquirers of other nations. Helmholtz
points to the cause of this timidity:

"England and France possess distinguished investigators — men competent
to follow np and illustrate with vigorous energy the methods of natural science ;
but they have hitherto been compelled to bend before social and theological
prejudices, and could only utter their convictions under the penalty of injuring
their social influence and usefulness. Germany has gone forward more coura-
geously. She has cherished the trust, whicli has never been deceived, that com-
plete truth carries with it the antidote against the bane and danger which follow
in the train of half-knowledge. A cheerfully laborious and temperate people —
a people morally strong — can well afford to look truth full in the face. Nor are
they to be ruined by the enunciation of one-sided theories, even when these
may appear to threaten the bases of society."

These words of Helmholtz are, in my opinion, wiser and more appli-
cable to the condition of Germany at the present moment than those
which express the fears of Prof. Yirchow. It will be remembered that
at the time of his lecture his chief anxiety was directed toward France;
but France has since that time given ample evidence of her ability to

' " Geschichte des Materialismus," zweite Aufl., vol. ii., p. 538.

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION. 287

crush, not only Socialists, but anti-Socialists, who would impose on her
a yoke which she refuses to bear.

In close connection with these utterances of Helmholtz, I place
another utterance not less noble, which I trust was understood and
appreciated by those to whom it was addressed :

"If" (said the President of the British Association in his opening address in
Dubhn) " we could lay down beforehand the precise limits of possible knowl-
edge, the problem of physical science would be already half solved. But the
question to which the scientific explorer has often to address himself is not
merely whether he is able to solve this or that problem, but whether he can so
far unravel the tangled threads of the matter with which he has to deal as to
weave them into a definite problem at aU. . . . If his eye seem dim, be must
look steadfastly and with hope into the misty vision, until the very clouds wreath
themselves into definite forms. If his ear seem duU, he must listen patiently
and with sympathetic trust to the intricate whisperings of Nature — the goddess,
as she has been called, of a hundred voices — until here and there he can prck
out a few simple notes to which his own powers can resound. If, then, at a
moment when he finds himself placed on a pinnacle from which he is called
upon to take a perspective survey of the range of science, and to tell us what he
can see from his vantage-ground ; if at such a moment, after straining his gaze
to the very verge of the horizon, and after describing the most distant of well-
defined objects, he should give utterance also to some of the subjective impres-
sions wliich he is conscious of receiving from regions beyond ; if he should
depict possibilities which seem opening to his view ; if he should explain why
he thinks this a mere bhnd alley and that an open path — then the fault and the
loss would ie aliJce ours if we refused to listen calmly, and temperately to form
our own judgment on what we hear; then assuredly it is ice loho icould he com-
mitting the error of confounding matters of fact with matters of opinion, if we
failed to discriminate between the various elements contained in such a discourse,
and assumed that they had been all put on the same footing. ''''

While largely agreeing with him, I cannot quite accept the setting
in which Prof. Virchow places the confessedly abortive attempts to se-
cure an experimental basis for the doctrine of spontaneous genei'ation.
It is not a doctrine " so discredited " that some of the scientific thinkers
of England accept "as the basis of all their views of life." Their in-
duction is by no means thus limited. They have on their side more
than the " reasonable probability " deemed sufficient by Bishop Butler
for practical guidance in the gravest affairs, that the members of the
solar system which are now discrete once formed a continuous mass :
that in the course of untold ages, during which the work of condensa-
tion went on through the waste of heat in space, the planets were de-
tached ; and that our present sun is the residual nucleus of the floccu-
lent or gaseous ball from which the planets were successively separated.
Life, as we define it, was not possible for seons subsequent to this
separation. When and how did it appear ? I have already pressed
this question, but have received no answer.' If, with Prof. Knight, we

* In the " Apology for the Belfast Address," the question is reasoned out.

288 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

regard the Bible account of the introduction of life upon the earth as
a poem, not as a statement of fact, where are we to seek for guidance
as to the fact ? There does not exist a barrier possessing the strength
of a cobweb to oppose to the hypothesis which ascribes the appearance
of life to that "potency of matter" which results in natural evolution/
This hj'pothesis is not without its difficulties, but they vanish when com-
pared with those which encumber its rivals. There are various facts in
science obviously connected, and whose connections we are unable to
trace; but we do not think of filling the gap between them by the in-
trusion of a separable spiritual agent. In like manner, though we are
unable to trace the course of things from the nebula, where there was
no life in our sense, to the present earth where life abounds, the spirit
and practice of science pronounce against the intrusion of an anthropo-
morphic creator. Theologians nuist liberate and refine their concep-
tions or be prepared for the rejection of them by thoughtful minds.
It is they, not we, who lay claim to knowledge never given to man.
" Our refusal of the creative hypothesis is less an assertion of knowl-
edge than a protest against the assumption of knowledge which must
long, if not always, lie beyond us, and the claim to which is a source
of perpetual confusion." At the same time, when I look with strenuous
gaze into the whole problem as far as my capacities allow, overwhelm-
ing wonder is the predominant feeling. This wonder has come to me
from the ages just as much as my understanding, and it has an equal
right to satisfaction. Hence I say, if, abandoning your illegitimate
claim to knowledge, you place, with Job, your forehead in the dust and
acknowledge the authorship of this universe to be past finding out
— if, having made this confession, and relinquished the views of the
mechanical theologian, you desire, for the satisfaction of feelings which
I admit to be in great part those of humanity at large, to give ideal
form to the Power that moves all things — it is not .by me that you will
find objections raised to this exercise of ideality, when consciously and
worthily carried out.

Again, I think Prof. Virchow's position, in regard to the question
of contaghim aniinatum, is not altogether that of true philosophy.
He points to the antiquity of the doctrine. " It is lost," he says, " in
the darkness of the middle ages. "We have received this name from
our forefathers, and it already appears distinctly in the sixteenth cen-
tury. We possess several works of that time which put forward cooi-
tagium animatum as a scientific doctrine, with the same confidence,
with the same sort of proof, with which the ' Plastidulic soul ' is now
set forth."

These speculations of our " forefathers " will appeal differently to
different minds. By some they will be dismissed with a sneer; to

1 "We feel it an undeniable necessity," says Prof. Virchow, "not to sever the organic
world from the whole, as if it were something disjoined from the whole." This grave
statement cannot be weakened by the subsequent pleasantry regarding " Carbon & Co."

VIRCHOW AND EVOLUTION. 289

others they will appear as proofs of genius on the part of those "who
enunciated them. There are men, and by no means the minority, who,
however wealthy in regard to facts, can never rise into the region of
principles ; and they are sometimes intolerant of those who can. They
are formed to plod meritoriously on the lower levels of thought, un-
possessed of the pinions necessary to reach the heights. They cannot
realize the mental act — the act of inspiration it might well be called —
by which a man of genius, after long pondering and proving, reaches a
theoretic conception which unravels and illuminates the tangle of cen-
turies of observation and experiment. There are minds, it may be said
in passing, who at the present moment stand in this relation to Mr.
Darwin. For my part, I should be inclined to ascribe to penetration
rather than to presumption the notion of a contagmm animatum. He
who invented the term ought, I think, to be held in esteem ; for he
had before him the quantity of fact and the measure of analogy that
would justify a man of genius in taking a step so bold. " Neverthe-
less," saj's Prof. Virchow, " no one was able throughout a long time to
discover these living germs of disease. The sixteenth century did not
find them, nor did the seventeenth, nor the eighteenth." But it may
be urged, in reply to this, that the theoretic conjecture often legiti-
mately comes first. It is the forecast of genius which anticipates the
fact and constitutes a spur toward its discovery. If instead of being
a spur the theoretic guess rendered men content with imperfect knowl-
edge, it would be a thing to be deprecated. But in modern investiga-
tion this is distinctly not the case ; Darwin's theory, for example, like
the undulatory theory, has been a motive power and not an anodyne.
" At last," says Prof. Virchow, " in the nineteenth century we have
begun little by little really to find contagia animata. So much the
more honor is due to those who, three centuries in advance, so put
together the facts and analogies of contagious disease as to divine its
root and character. Prof. Virchow seems to deprecate the "obstinacy"
with which this notion of a contaghim vivum emerged. Here I should
not be inclined to follow him ; because I do not know, nor does he tell
me, how much the discovery of facts in the nineteenth century is
indebted to the stimulus derived from the theoretic discussions of pre-
ceding centuries. The genesis of scientific ideas is a subject of pro-
found interest and importance. He would be but a poor philosopher
who would sever modern chemistry from the eflForts of the alchemists,
who would detach modern atomic doctrines from the speculations of
Lucretius and his predecessors, or who would claim for our present
knowledge of contagia an origin altogether independent of the efforts
of our "forefathers" to penetrate this enigma.

Finally, I do not know that I should agree with Prof. Virchow as
to what a theory is or ought to be. I call a theory a principle or con-
ception of the mind which accounts for observed facts, and which helps
us to look for and predict facts not yet observed. Every new discovery

VOL. XIV. — 19

290 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which fits into a theory strengthens it. The theory is not a thing com-
plete from the first, but a thing which grows, as it were asymptotically,
toward certainty. Darwin's theory, as pointed out nine or ten years
ago by Helmholtz and Hooker, was then exactly in this condition of
growth ; and had they to speak of the subject to-day they would be
able to announce an enormous strengthening of the theoretic fibre.
Fissures in continuity which then existed, and which left little hope of
being ever spanned, have been since bridged over, so that the further
the theory is tested the more fully does it harmonize with progressive
experience and discovery. We shall probably never fill all the gaps ;
but this will not prevent a profound belief in the truth of the theory
from taking root in the general mind. Much less will it justify a total
denial of the theory. The man of science who assumes in such a case
the position of a denier is sure to be stranded and isolated. The proper
attitude, in my opinion, is to give as nearly as possible to the theory
during the phases of its growth a proportionate assent ; and, if it be a
theory which influences practice, our wisdom is to follow its probable
suggestions where more than probability is for the moment unattain-
able. I write thus with the theory of contagium vivum more especially
in my mind, and must regret the attitude of denial assumed by Prof.
Virchow toward that theory. " I must beg my friend Klebs to pardon
me," he says, " if, notwithstanding the late advances made by the doc-
trine of infectious fungi, I still persist in my reserve so far as to admit
only the fungus which is really proved, while I deny all other fungi so
long as they are not actually brought before me." Prof. Virchow, that
is to say, will continue to deny the germ theory, however great the
probabilities on its side, however numerous the cases of which it renders
a just account, until it has ceased to be a theory at all, and has become
a congeries of sensible facts. Had he said, " As long as a single fun-
gus of disease remains to be discovered, it is your bounden duty to
search for it," I should cordially agree with him. But by his unreserved
denial he quenches the light of probability which ought to guide the
practice of the medical man. Both here and in relation to the theory
of evolution excess on the one side has begotten excess on the other.

■^o^

In publishing the volume of " Fragments," to which the foregoing
article is introductory, I could not entirely ignore the criticisms which
one or two among them have evoked. Of such strictures, however, my
knowledge is incomplete, their authorship causing me to give some of
them a spacious berth. Nor as regards those with which I am acquainted
have I deemed it necessary to offer direct refutations. They fall spon-
taneously to pieces in presence of the facts here set forth. — Author''s
advance sheets.

ASTRONOMICAL MAGNITUDES AND DISTANCES. 291
ASTEONOMICAL MAGNITUDES AND DISTANCES.

By Professob H. S. CAEHART.

THE magnitudes and distances considered in physical astronomy
are so immense that we cannot hope to reach even a faint con-
ception of them except by illustration and comparison. If even then,
with our best effort, we fail to measure up to the magnificent dimen-
sions of the universe, the attempt will at least enlarge our intellectual
conceptions, and lead us out mentally into a broader place.

The results reached by modern astronomy, respecting the dimen-
sions and distances of the heavenly bodies, are based on two lines, the
radius (or semi-diameter) of the earth and the radius of its orbit ; the
former is accurately known, the latter approximately. In modern times
the highest refinements of engineering skill have been applied to the
measurement of base-lines, which furnish through triangulation arcs
of a meridian. So thoroughly has this work been done that, in the
opinion of Prof. Young, the error in the ascertained length of the
earth's equatorial radius cannot exceed "HOO feet. This radius forms
our base-line for broader operations. The equatorial, horizontal parallax
of the moon, or the angle subtended at the moon by the earth's equa-
torial radius, is found to have an average value of 57' 2". Hence by
plane trigonometry the moon's mean distance is 238,885 miles, or nearly
ten times the circumference of the earth. Light, with a velocity of
186,500 miles a second, travels from the earth to the moon and back
again in two and a half seconds, thus producing that faint illumination
of the dark portion of the new moon turned toward us. Knowing the
moon's distance, the measurement of its apparent diameter in minutes
of arc furnishes immediately its absolute diameter in miles.

So, then, this queen of the night, once supposed to be a kind of
lantern, fed by exhalations from the ocean, is a body -^ as large as
the earth. It is our nearest celestial neisrhbor — in fact, a little out-
lying, condensed nebulosity ; and if we had a weather-station on the
lunar mountain Tycho, connected by telegraph with Washington, Gen-
eral Myer would receive the lunar weather-reports in fifteen seconds by
electricity.

Aristarchus, in the third century before the Christian era, attempted
to use the moon's distance to compute the greater distance of the sun ;
but the method failed, and astronomers were compelled to fall back on
the radius of the earth as a base-line for a still grander triangulation.
The parallax of Mars, at opposition, gave us the first approximation to
the sun's distance ; then the transit of Venus furnished a nearer esti-
mate ; latterl}', Le Verrier, who found Neptune by figures, has also
determined the distance of the sun by means of planetary perturba-
tions ; still a fourth method combines the retardation of the eclipses

292 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of Jupiter's first satellite with the velocity of light, as determined by
terrestrial measurement, and so measures oflF the millions of miles be-
tween us and the source of almost all our energy. These four methods,
notably the last two, give us 92,360,000 miles as a near approximation
to this long-sought distance. We have thus reduced this space by
3,000,000 miles, or about ^*^ of the entire amount. Across this interval
the radiant energy of the sun dashes in eight minutes thirteen seconds.
Thermal electricity, which might be presumed to exist at the sun in
great quantity, would traverse the distance in one hour thirty-six min-
utes. Sensation travels along our nerves at the slow rate of about
150 feet a second. Imagine an infant with an arm long enough to
reach the sun. It would have to live 102 years to know that it had
burned its band in the solar fires. Counting three a second day and
night, it would require an entire year to count the miles intervening
between us and the sun ; and to count the distance in feet, at the same
rate, would consume 5,280 years, or nearly as much time as has elapsed
since the introduction of man upon the earth, according to Biblical
chronology.

The sun's distance being ascertained, its absolute diameter is deter-
mined from the apparent by the process applied to the moon, A near
approximation to the sun's radius is 430,680 miles. Imagine the earth
at the sun's centre: its surface would appear as far distant as does
now the celestial vault, and the moon's orbit would fall nearly 200,000
miles within the surface, or little more than half-way from the centre
out, A locomotive at thirty miles an hour would run from centre to
surface in 1.63 years. Jules Verne got his traveler around the world
in eighty days ; at the same rate it would take him twenty-four years
to make the circuit of the sun. Its volume is 1,334,000 times the earth's;
but its mass, on account of its less density, is only 323,386 times as
great. "We say on/y, because the ratio of masses is so much less than
that of volumes. But when we reflect that the spectroscope shows at
least many terrestrial elements present in the sun, and that the sun
contains enousrh of such substantial stuff as Mother Earth consists of
to make more than 300,000 like her, we are prepared to admit that the
ratio between the masses even is large enough for all practical purposes.

Vast and incomprehensible as we have found our distance from the
sun to be, we have still to contemplate far greater reaches within the
limits of the solar system. Juj^iter holds on its silent course 5y^Q- as far
away from the sun as the earth, and therefore receives only -^ the in-
tensity of solar radiant energy. Saturn is nearly twice as far distant
as Jupiter; Uranus more than twice as far as Saturn; while Neptune
glimmers at thirty times the earth's distance with light that has con-
sumed eight and a quarter hours in flashing twice across this vast
abyss since leaving the sun. At that distant boundary the light and
heat of the sun have only -^-^ the intensity that we enjoy, while its
apparent diameter, observed from that position, would shrink to 64",

ASTRONOMICAL MAGNITUDES AND DISTANCES. 293

or little more than the greatest apparent diameter of Venus. We
modestly lay claim to this small corner of the universe, denominated
the solar system, and assert our right to possession by calling it ours.
What is the area of this plane bounded by Neptune's orbit, with which
the planes of the other planetary orbits nearly coincide ? What is the
space swept by the radius-vector of this planetary child of Adams's
and Le Verrier's calculations ? Since circles are as the squares of their
radii, this area is 900 times that comprised within the earth's orbit.
Breaking this unit up into smaller ones, we find it contains twenty-six
billions, five hundred millions of millions of square miles ; or, with ref-
erence to the earth's entire surface, the ratio between it and the area of
its orbit is 13,520,000. But Neptune's orbit exceeds this 900 times !

Conceive this orbit immersed in the universal ether, like an immense
ring mapped out on the surface of still water. A pebble dropped at
the centre of this ring would send its widening wavelets outward with
a perfectly definite velocity. So a wave of light, emanating from the
sun, with a length of no more than the jl-fg- part of an inch, is propa-
gated through this universal ether with such rapidit}' that in four hours
and nine minutes it describes the entire area comprised wdthin Nep-
tune's path around the sun.

Across this vast interval quivers, too, in some mj-sterious way, that
universal influence that we call gravitation. But at that outlying point,
where Neptune holds on its silent course, it no longer exercises that
dominant sway that characterizes it at the earth. The earth moves
through 18.4 miles of its orbit every second, and is deflected from a
straight line by the sun during that interval a little less than -^^^ of
an inch (0.11598 inch), Neptune travels 3.35 miles a second, and is
deflected from a straight line during the same time only about ^q^^qq-
of an inch (0.000129 inch) ; yet by that slight pull the sun asserts its
mastery, and brings Neptune round once in 164 years.

Vast as is this field of solar operations, we demand a still broader
sphere for the exercise of our intellectual faculties. The successive
eminences on which Astronomy has planted her appliances for more ad-
vanced operations stand related to each other as the terms, not of an
arithmetical, but of a geometrical progression. Having settled the rela-
tive distances of this rather unsocial family of planets, the next advance
is on to the stars. From the measurement of a base-line a few miles in
extent, the astronomer essaj's, with undaunted hardihood, to fathom by
triangulation the depths of space. The dog baj'S at the moon, the child
stretches out its tiny hand to pluck the stars from the sky, and the as-
tronomer applies his measuring-rod along the vibrating lines of light
so far into immensity that blazing suns, exceeding in brightness the
mid-day splendor of our own, dwindle to the luminous points of twin-
kling stars.

When Copernicus, the Polish astronomer, sought to extricate as-
tronomy from the hopeless complexity into which it had become en-

294 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tangled by cycles, epicycles, and eccentric positions, and proclaimed the
heliocentric system, his opponents objected that the earth's axis, pro-
duced to the celestial sphere, with its successive positions day after day
parallel to each other, should be seen to describe a circle in the heavens
as the earth sweeps round through its orbit of nearly 600,000,000 miles
in length. Copernicus replied that it does describe such a circle ; but
the stars, by reference to which it can alone be mapped out, are so dis-
tant that the circle of almost 100,000,000 miles' radius there dwindles
to a point and vanishes by perspective. To reverse the line of sight,
let us suppose ourselves transported to the pole-star and looking back
upon the orbit of the earth. So vast is the distance that this elliptical
orbit contracts almost to the infinitesimal dimensions of a point ; for,
at that distant station, the earth's orbital diameter subtends an angle of
only 0.182", or twice the angle called the parallax of the star. Such is
the distance that the astronomer has successfully attempted to measure,
starting with a primary triangle based on a determined line of only a
few miles in length.

The nearest fixed star is Alpha Ce^itauri, with a parallax of 0.928",
corresponding to a distance of 20,518,000 millions of miles. Light,
traveling at the rate of 186,500 miles a second, requires 3.5 years to
reach us from this nearest star. So the solar system, with its immense
distances, is yet alone in the universe of stars ; and our central lumi-
nary is separated so far from other suns that the distance to its outmost
planet is almost a vanishing quantity in comparison with the distance
to its nearest starry neighbors. We gaze upon the glittering heavens
at night, and wrap in thought a canopy of shining stars about our
earth as if it were an ornamented mantle ; but could we take our sta-
tion on a silent planet circling round some other starry sun, our sun
would take its place as only one among the mazes of the stars.

How brilliantly Sirius shines with pure white light in the evening
sky ! Yet the earth has circled seventeen times round the sun since the
light that the eye gathers to an image of the Dog-star left that glorious
orb. Patiently the astronomer centres that little circle around which
the pole-star sheds its guiding light, that he may adjust his instrument
to parallelism with the axis of a revolving world. But since that light
left its source at the pole-star, a child has grown through youth to man-
hood, and in his hair the gray of silver lines has begun to develop
under the cares of six-and-thirty years. And these are only our nearest
neighbors among the stars !

For every star visible to the naked eye under the most favorable
circumstances the great Washington telescope shows from 5,000 to
8,000 more. According to the best authorities, the first six magnitudes
contain 5,904 stars. Only half of these can be seen above the horizon
at once ; and the sixth magnitude comjorises 4,424. These can be seen
distinctly only on very favorable nights ; so that for ordinary observation
only 740 stars are visible at any moment above the horizon. There are

ASTRONOMICAL MAGNITUDES AND DISTANCES. 295

only twenty stars of the first magnitude, that is, of the first degree of
brightness. It is demonstrable that Sirius is a hundred and sixty times
as bright intrinsically as our sun. From a comparison of Sirius with
the moon, and the moon with the sun, it is found that sunlight is 6,000
million times brighter than that of Sirius. But since Sirius is 1,000,-
000 times more distant than our sun, if brought as near us, the intensity
of its light would be increased in the ratio of the square of 1,000,000
or 1,000,000 millions. This quantity, divided by 6,000 millions, would
show Sirius to be at least a hundred and sixty times as bright intrinsi-
cally as our sun.

It is fair, however, to suppose that the chief cause of difference of
brightness of stars is difference of distance. If so, we then have the
means of approximating to the distance of even telescopic stars. Her-
schel estimated that stars of the first order emit, on an average, light
one hundred times as intense as those of the sixth ; hence the latter
must be at ten times the distance, the intensity of light varying in-
versely as the square of the distance. Sirius is 98,000,000 of millions
of miles from us; stars of the sixth magnitude are therefore about
1,000 millions of millions distant, and their light reaches us only after
a flight of 169 or 170 years.

The space-penetrating power of a telescope depends upon the ratio
between its aperture and the pupil of the eye. Herschel estimated that
his four-foot reflector penetrated 194 times as far as the naked eye ;
and, as the faintest stars visible to the naked eye are ten times as dis-
tant as the brightest, it follows that the faintest stars visible in the
field of Herschel's telescope are 1,940 times as distant as Sirius or
Alpha Lyrce. In other words, Sirius would still be visible if removed
to about 2,000 times its present distance. With Lord Rosse's six-foot
reflector Sirius would still be \'isible at 3,000 times its present distance.
If, therefore, this brightest star in the heavens should suddenly shoot
away from us with the velocity of light, it would remain visible to the
naked eye twice 170 years, since 170 years would be consumed in its
flight and 170 more in the return of the light; and with Lord Rosse's
telescope it could be traced 100,000 years longer (twice 3,000 times 170
years). This is the lowest estimate, too, for Sirius is many times brighter
than the average star of the first magnitude. If intrinsically only four
times as bright, it could still be seen by the telescope so infinitely far
into space that light from it could reach us only after the lapse of
100,000 years.

But we need not pause even at these distant telescopic suns. Be-
yond the stars that merely dot with points of light the telescopic field
of view, hovering on the outskirts of this inconceivable space swept by
the far-fathoming line of telescopic vision, are discerned fainth'-defined
masses too distant to be resolved into stars, whose hazy light is gath-
ered from congeries of suns, the individual blazing brightness of which
is reduced in our view to the fleecy films of unresolvable nebulae. Even

296 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

imagination tires in winging its way to these star-clusters, so far re-
moved from us that each one may be called another universe of God.
From them nothing comes to us but the faint, palpitating throb of an
ethereal wave ; no tidings cross that gulf save what flew throughout
the universe when He who made these systems first said, " Let there be
light.'''' And, if thought falters and figures fail in the presence of these
infinitudes of distance, no less do they when the dimensions of these
nebulous fields are contemplated. The nearest star, viewed with a
power of 6,000 diameters, shows no proper disk, and is still only a brill-
iant point. Its diameter, though perhaps greater than that of our own
sun, is still at least 6,000 times too small to come within the limits of
unaided vision. But many nebula?, though almost infinitely farther
removed, are still of extent sufScient to more than fill the telescopic
field. Who, then, can estimate their absolute dimensions ?

Such, then, are the magnitudes and distances which the godlike
human intellect has undertaken to determine. And still art vies with
science to fashion lenses that shall gather at their focus still more and
more of that luminous intelligence that discloses to the mind of man
the secrets of the outside universe. But as the space-penetrating power
of the telescope is increased, and the bright spots of light are resolved
into groups of brilliant stars, more nebulous haze comes up from the
deep distance, indicating that the visual ray is not yet long enough to
fathom the mighty depths. There is still haze behind, independent of
those nebulae shown to be gaseous by the spectroscope. The telescopic
ray has not yet shot entirely through the mighty distance, leaving only
the deep, dark heavens beyond as the background of the brilliant pict-
ure. The words uttered by David spring to our lips with fuller mean-
ing when we look out upon the glorious heavens illumined by the con-
centrated light of these latter days : " When I consider thy heavens,
the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast or-
dained ; what is man, that thou art mindful of him ? or the son of man,
that thou visitest him ? "

HEEBERT SPENCER BEFORE THE E:N^GLISH COPY-
EIGHT COMMISSION.'

QUESTION {Chairman). I need hardly ask, you are a writer of
philosophical and scientific books ?
Answer. I am.

Q. Would you give the commission your experience of the terms
on which you published your first book ?

' Tuesday, March 6, 1877 : Lord John Manners, M. P., in the chair. Members of the
commission present, Sir Henry T. Holland, Sir Louis Mallet, Sir Julius Benedict, Farrer
Herschell, Dr. William Smith, J. A. Froude, Esq., Anthony TroUope, Esq., F. R. Daldy,
Esq.

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 297

A. I published my first work, " Social Statics," at the end of 1850.
Being a philosophical book, it was not possible to obtain a publisher
who would undertake any responsibility, and I published it at my own
cost. A publisher looks askance at philosophy, and especially the phi-
losophy of a new man ; hence I published on commission.

Q. Would you like to state what the result was ?

A. The edition was 750 ; it took fourteen years to sell.

Q. Then with respect to your next work ?

A. In 1855 I published the " Principles of Psychology;" I again
tried in vain to get a publisher, and published again at my own cost.
There were 750 copies, and the sale was very slow. I gave away a
considerable number ; the remainder, I suppose about 650, sold in twelve
and a half years.

Q. Have you had any other similar cases ?

A. Yes; I afterward, in 1857, published a series of Essays, and,
warned by past results, I printed only 500. That took ten and a half
years to sell. After that a second series of Essays and a little work on
Education, which both had kindred results, but were not quite so long in
sellino^. I should add that all these sales would have taken still lono^er
but for the effect produced upon them by books published at a later
period, which helped the earlier ones to sell.

Q. Have all these subsequent works to which you now refer been
published in the same way ?

A. No. Toward 1860 I began to be anxious to publish a " System
of Philosophy," which I had been elaborating for a good many years.
I found myself in the position of losing by all my books ; and, after
considering various plans, I decided upon the plan of issuing to subscrib-
ers in quarterly parts, and to the public in volumes when completed.
Before the initial volume, " First Principles," was finished, I found my-
self still losing. During the issue of the second volume, the *' Principles
of Biology," I was still losing. In the middle of the third volume I
was still losing so much, that I found I was frittering away all I pos-
sessed. I went back upon my accounts, and found that in the course
of fifteen years I had lost nearly £1,200 — adding interest, more than
£1,200 ; and as I was evidently going on ruining myself, I issued to the
subscribers a notice of cessation.

Q. Was that loss the difference between the money that you had
actually spent in publishing the books and the money you had received
in return ?

. A. Not exactly. The difference was between my total expenditure
in publishing the books and living in the most economical way possible,
and the total returns. That is to say, cutting down my expenses to the
smallest amount, I lost £1,200 hy the inadequate returns, and trenched
to that extent upon capital.

Q. But you continued afterward, did you not, to publish ?

A. I continued afterward, simply, I may say, by accident. On two

298 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

previous occasions, in the course of those fifteen years, I had been en-
abled to persevere, spite of losses, by bequests. On this third occasion,
after the issue of the notice, property which I inherit came to me in
time to prevent the cessation.

Q. May I ask how long it took before you began to be repaid for
your losses ?

A. My losses did not continue very long after that : the tide turned,
and my books began to pay. I have calculated what length of time it
has taken to repay my losses, and find they were repaid in 1874; that
is to say, in twenty-four years after I began I retrieved my position.

Q. Then the commission understand that your books are now re-
munerative ?

A. They are now remunerative, and for this reason : As I have ex-
plained, I had to publish on commission. Commission is a system which,
throwing all the cost upon the author, is very disastrous for him if his
books do not pay, and, as 3'ou see in this case, has been very disastrous
to me ; but when they do pay it is extremely advantageous, inasmuch
as in that case the publisher who does the business takes only ten per
cent., and the whole of the difference between cost and proceeds, minus
that ten per cent., comes to the author. I have calculated what are my
actual returns, on two suppositions. I have ascertained the percentage
I get upon 1,000 copies, supposing that I set up the type solely for that
1,000 copies — supposing, that is, that the cost of composition comes into
the cost. In that case I reap 30f per cent. But I reap much more. I
was sanguine enough, when I began this series of books, to stereotype.
The result is, that now I simply have to print additional thousands as
they are demanded. If I suppose the cost of composition and stereo-
typing to have been paid for in the first edition, and only estimate the
cost of paper and printing in the successive editions, then I am reaping
41f per cent. The actual percentage, of course, is one which lies
between those two; but year by year, with each additional thousand, I
approach more nearly to the limit of 41f per cent. I should point out
that the result of this is that I receive, as may be suj^posed, a consider-
able return upon the moderate numbers sold.

Q. And that being so, can you tell the commission what in your
opinion would have happened had there been in existence a system
under which three years, say, after date of publication any one could
have reprinted your books, paying you a royalty of ten per cent. ?

A. The result would have been that my losses would not have been
repaid now. After twenty-six years' work I should still have been out
of pocket ; and should be out of pocket for many 3'ears to come.

Q. {3Ir. Trollope). Under such a system do you think that you
would ever have recovered that money ?

A. I am taking it on the most favorable supposition, merely supjios-
ing that all other things but percentage had remained the same.

Q. ( Chairman). Assuming the system of royalty to be in existence,

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 299

what would be the result on your present returns, supposing losses to
have been repaid ?

A. Between two-thirds and three-fourths of those returns would be
cut oif. They would be reduced to little more than a fourth of their
present amount.

Q. {Sir H. Holland). How do you arrive at that result?

A. By comparing the supposed percentage with the percentage I
actually received.

Q. Assuming a royalty of ten per cent, upon the retail price ?

A. Yes.

Q. {Chairman). Would it not be probable that the reduction in
price of your books would so increase the sales that you would reap a
larger return than you have supposed in the estimate that you have
now given ?

A. I think not, or very little. First of all, for the reason that the
amount of reduction would not be anything like so great as at first
sight appears. If a publisher issued rival editions of my books with-
out my assent, on paying a royalty, he would only do so to make a
profit beyond that which mere commission would bring. My present
publisher is content with ten per cent, commission. A publisher who
competed as a speculation would want to make his profit beyond the
ten per cent, commission ; as I ascertain, probably, at least a further ten
per cent. Then there would be my own ten per cent, royalty. So that
I find the reduction in price under such a royalty system would only be
about fifteen per cent. That is to say, the reduction would be from 20s.
to 175. Now I am of opinion that a reduction of the price of one of my
books by that amount would have but a small effect upon the sales, the
market being so limited. Let me use an illustration : Take such a
commodity as cod-liver oil, which is a very necessary thing for a certain
limited class. Suppose it is contended that, out of regard for those to
whom it is so necessary, retailers should be compelled to take a smaller
profit, and you reduce the price by fifteen per cent. The consumption
would be very little influenced, because there would be none except
those who had it prescribed for them who would be willing to take it,
and they must have it. Now take one of my books, say the " Princi-
ples of Psychology." Instead of calling it " caviare to the general,"
let us call it cod-liver oil to the general ; I think it probable that if you
were to ask ninety-nine people out of a hundred whether they would
daily take a spoonful of cod-liver oil or read a chapter of that book,
they would prefer the cod-liver oil. And if so it is quite clear, I think,
that no lowering of the price by 3^. out of 20s. would in a'ny consider-
able degree increase the number of persons who bought the " Principles
of Psychology." The class is so limited and so special that there would
be no increase of profit of a considerable kind in consequence of an in-
creased number sold.

Q. {Mr. Trollope). But are there not many people who would have

30O THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

benefited by cod-liver oil who cannot get it at present because of tlie
price ?

A. I think in all those cases in which they would be benefited the}'
get it by hook or by crook when it is prescribed for them,

Q. And in the same way with your books, j'ou think ?

A. Yes. For instance, university men have to read them, and they
would buy them in any case.

Q. [Chairman). What would have hajDpened to you originally
had there been a law giving a copyright only of short duration, un-
der such an arrangement of percentage as that which you have just
named?

A. I think it is tolerably obvious, from what I have already said,
that I should not have been wholly deterred. I should have gone on
losing for many years ; but I think it is also clear that I should have
stopped short much sooner than I did. Every author is naturally san-
guine about his books ; he has hopes which nobody else entertains. The
result is that he will persevere, in the hope of at some time or other reap-
ing some return, when to other persons there seems to be no probability
of the kind. But supposing it becomes manifest to him that the copj'-
right law is such that when his books succeed, if they ever do succeed,
he will not get large profits, then the discouragement will be much
greater, and he will stop much sooner. If I, for instance, instead of
seeing that vmder the system of commission I should eventually, if I
succeeded, repay myself and get a good return, had seen that eventu-
ally, if I succeeded, I should receive but small gains, I should have
given it up.

Q. Are there other publications which you have undertaken besides
those to which you have already referred ?

A. Yes. About ten years ago I commenced preparing works now
published under the name of "Descriptive Sociology," in large folio
parts, and containing tables and classified extracts representing the
civilizations of various societies. I employed gentlemen to make these
compilations.

Q. Do you wish to state what has been the result of that undertak-
ing so far?

A. Yes. I made up my accounts last Christmas. I had then in the
course of those ten years expended £3,958 odd upon eight parts (five
published and three in hand), and my net return from sales of the five
parts published in England and America was £608 105.

Q. May I ask whether you ever expect to get back the money that
you have expended ?

A. I may possibly get back the printing expenses on the earliest
part, and most popular part, that dealing with the English civilization,
in 1880, at the present rate of sale. The printing expenses of the other
parts I do not expect to get back for many years longer. The cost of
compilation I expect to get back if I live to be over a hundred.

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION: 301

Q. {Mr. Daldy). You spoke of the circulation in England and
America. May I ask, do you send stereotype-plates to America?

A. I did at first send stereotype-plates to America, but, the thing
having proved to be so great a loss, I now send a portion of the printed
edition.

Q. {Chairman). May I ask why do you expect repayment of the
cost of compilation .to be so slow as you stated in your answer to my
last question ?

A. The reason is, that I made a promise to the compilers entailing
that. The compilers are university men, to whom I covild afford to give
only such salaries as sufficed for their necessary expenses. To make the
thing better for them, and to be some incentive, I told them that, when
the printing expenses on any one part were repaid, I would commence
to divide with the compiler of it the returns on subsequent sales ; the
result being that the cost of compilation comes back to me only at half
the previous rate. I name this because it shows that, in the absence of a
long copyright, I could have given no such contingent advantage to the
compilers. I wish to point out another way in which a short copyright
would have impeded me. As a further incentive to these compilers to
do their work well, as also to make the prospect better for them, I gave
them to understand that the copyrights and the stereotype-plates would
be theirs after my death. Of course, with a short copyright I could not
have done that.

Q. Then in your opinion it is only by a long duration of copyright
that you can be enabled to recover any considerable part of the money
that you have sunk in these publications ?

A. Certainly. If it were possible for any one to reprint, such small
return as goes toward diminishing this immense loss would be in part
intercepted.

Q. But if this work, which you call " Descriptive Sociology," is so
unremunerative, how do you imagine you would be in danger of having
it reprinted under the suggested system of royalty ?

A. It appears at first sight not a rational expectation, but it is per-
fectly possible. Each number of the work consists of a set of tables
and a set of classified extracts. It was suggested by a reviewer of the
first part, the English part, that the tables should be separately printed,
mounted on boards, and hung up in schools. The suggestion was a
good one, and I have even had thoughts of doing it myself. A pub-
lisher might take up that suggestion, and might issue those indepen-
dently of me, and diminish what small sale I now have. Again, the
work is very cumbrous and awkward ; that can hardly be helped ; but
a publisher might see that the extracts arranged in ordinary volume
form would be valuable by themselves apart from the tables, and might
get a good sale independently ; and again my small returns would be
cut into.

Q. {Sir H. Holland). That objection of yours would be partly met

302 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

by the suggestion of Mr. Macfie, who brought this question of royalty
before us, because his suggestion is, that no reprint is to differ from the
original edition without the author's consent, either in the way of
abbreviation, enlargement, or alteration of the text. Therefore, under
that regulation, if that is carried out, a publisher could not print half
of this book without your consent ?

A, That would so far, if it can be practically worked out, meet my
objection.

Q. [Mr. TroUope). But you have stated that you thought your-
self of using this form of abridgment to which allusion is made ?

A. I have.

Q. And if this form of abridgment when made by you could be re-
published again by anybody else, then your profit would be interfered
with?

A. No doubt of it.

Q. {Chairman). Supposing the suggested system of short copyright
and royalty had been in force, would you have undertaken these works
to which you have referred?

A. Certainly not. The enterprise was an unpromising one, pecuni-
arily considered, and it would have been almost an insane one, I think,
had there not been the possibility of eventually getting back some re-
turns from sales that were necessarily very slow. Moreover, the hopes
under which the compilers have worked I could never have given to
them.

Q. Then are we to gather from your evidence that the system of
short copyright and royalty would be injurious to the books of the
graver class which do not appeal to the popular tastes?

A. I think so ; it would be especially injurious to that particular
class which of all others needs encouragement.

Q. {Sir H. Holland). As requuing most thought and brain- work on
the part of the author ?

A. Yes, and being least remunerative.

Q. {Chairman). I understand you to say that in all these cases you
have not parted with the copyright yourself ?

A. No, I have not.

Q. Now, assuming that the authors of these graver books sold their
copyrights, do you think that this royalty system would still act preju-
dicially upon them ?

A. I think very decidedly. I have understood that it is contended
that authors Avho sell their copyrights would not be affected by this ar-
rangement. One of the answers I heard given here to-day sufficed to
show that that is not true ; inasmuch as a publisher who had to meet
these risks would not give as much for copyright as he would other-
wise give. His argument would be unanswerable. He would say:
" Your book is a success, or not a success ; if not a success, I lose what
I give you for copyright ; if a success, I shall have it reprinted upon

BEGINNING OF NERVES. 303

me, and again I shall lose what I give you for copyright. I must, there-
fore, reduce the amount which I give for the copyright." Moreover, 1
believe that the reduction in the value of copyrights would be much
greater than the facts justified. In the first place, the publisher himself
would look to the possibility of reprinting with a fear beyond that
which actual experience warranted. Frequently a suggested small dan-
ger acts upon the mind in a degree out of all proportion to its amount.
Take such a case as the present small-pox epidemic, in which you find
one person in 30,000 dies in a week ; in which, therefore, the risk
of death is extremely small. Look at this actual risk of death and
compare it with the alarms that you find prevailing among people. It
is clear that the fear of an imagined consequence of that kind is often
much in excess of the actual danger. Similarly, I conceive that the pub-
lisher himself would unconsciously over-estimate the danger of reprints.
But beyond that he would exaggerate his over-estimate as an excuse
for beating down copyright. He would say to the author: "You see
this danger ; I cannot face so great a risk without guarding myself ;
and you must submit to a large reduction."

(Mr. Spencer was subsequently called before the committee again,
and we shall give his interesting evidence next month.)

THE BEGINNING OF NEEVES m THE ANIMAL

KINGDOM.

By GEORGE J. KOMANES.

"VTERVE-TISSUE universally consists of two elementary structures,
-L^ viz., very minute nerve-cells and very minute nerve-fibres. The
fibres proceed to and from the cells, so in some cases serving to unite
the cells with one another, and in other cases with distant parts of the
animal body. Nerve-cells are usually found collected together in ag-
gregates, which are called nerve-centres or ganglia, to and from which
large bundles of nerve-fibres come and go.

To explain the function of nerve-tissue, it is necessary to begin by
explaining what physiologists mean by the term " excitability." Sup-
pose that a muscle has been cut from the body of a freshly-killed ani-
mal ; so long as it is not interfered with in any way, so long will it
remain quite passive. But every time a stimulus is supplied to it,
either by means of a pinch, a burn, an electrical shock, or a chemical
irritant, the muscle will give a single contraction in response to every
stimulation. And it is this readiness of organic tissues to respond to
a suitable stimulus that physiologists designate by the term " excita-
bility."

304 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Nerves, no less than muscles, present the property of being exci-
table. If, together with the excised muscle, there had been removed
from the animal's body an attached nerve, every time any part of this
nerve is stimulated the attached muscle will contract as before. But
it must be carefully observed that there is this great difference between
these two cases of response on the part of the muscle — that, while in
the former case the muscle responded to a stimulus applied directly to
its oicn suhstance, in the latter case the muscle responded to a stimulus
applied at a distance from its own substance, which stimulus was then
conducted to the muscle by the nerve. And in this we perceive the
characteristic function of nerve-fbres, viz., that of conducting stimuli
to a distance. The function of neive-cells is different, viz., that of
accumulating nervous energy ; and, at fitting times, of discharging this
energy into the attached nerve-fibres. The nervous energy, when thus
discharged, acts as a stimulus to the nerve-fibre ; so that, if a muscle is
attached to the end of a fibre, it contracts on receiving this stimulus.
I may add that, when nerve-cells are collected into ganglia, they often
appear to discharge their energy spontaneously ; so that in all but the
very lowest animals, whenever we see apparently spontaneous action,
we infer that ganglia are probably present. Lastly, another important
distinction must be borne in mind — the distinction, namely, which I
now draw between muscle and nerve. A stimulus applied to a nerve-
less muscle can only course through the muscle by giving rise to a visi-
ble wave of contraction, which spreads in all directions from the seat
of disturbance as from a centre. A nerve, on the other hand, conducts
the stimulus without undergoing any change of shape. Now, in order
not to forget this distinction, I shall alwaj'S speak of muscle-fibres as
conveying a visible wave of contraction, and of nerve-fibres as convey-
ing an invisible, or molecular, wave of stitmdation. Nerve-fibres, then,
are functionally distinguished from muscle-fibres — and also from proto-
plasm— by displaying the property of conducting invisible, or molecu-
lar, waves of stimulation from one part of an organism to another, so
establishing physiological continuity between such parts, loithout the
necessary passage of contractile leaves.

Such being the structure and the function of nerve-tissue in its fully
evolved form, I will now proceed to give the results of my researches
on the structure and function of nerve-tissue where this tissue is first
found to occur in the ascending series of animal life. The animals in
which it so occurs are the Medusm or jelly-fishes, which must be familiar
to all who frequent the seaside. These animals present the general
form of a mushroom. The organ which occupies the same position as
the stalk does in the mushroom is the mouth and stomach of the
medusa, and is called the polypite ; while the organ which resembles in
shape the dome of the mushroom consitutes the main bulk of the ani-
mal, and is called the swimming-bell. Both the polypite and the swim-
ming-bell are almost entirely composed of a thick, transparent, and non-

BEGINNING OF NERVES.

305

Fig. 1.

contractile jelly ; but the whole surface of the polypite, and the whole
co?icave surface of the bell, are overlaid by a thin layer, or sheet, of

contractile tissue. This tissue con-

stitutes the earliest appearance in the
animal king-dom of true muscular
fibres. The thickness of this continu-
ous layer of incipient muscle is pretty
uniform, and is nowhere greater than
that of very thin paper. The mar-
gin of the bell supports a series of
highly contractile tentacles, and also
another series of bodies which are of
great importance in the following re-
searches. These are the so-called
marginal bodies, which are here rep-
resented, but the structure of which I
need not describe. Lastly, it may
not be superfluous to add that all

the Medusm are locomotive. The mechanism of their locomotion is
very simple, consisting merely of an alternate contraction and relaxa-
tion of the entire muscular sheet which lines the cavity of the bell. At
each contraction of this muscular sheet the gelatinous walls of the bell
are drawn together ; the capacity of the bell being thus diminished,
water is ejected from the open mouth of the bell backward, and the
consequent reaction propels the animal forward. In these swimming
movements systole and diastole follow one another with as perfect a
rhythm as they do in the beating of a heart.

Previous to my researches, the question as to whether or not the
Medusae, possess a nervous system was one of the most vexed questions
in biology — some eminent naturalists maintaining that they could de-
tect microscopical indications of nervous tissues, and others maintain-
ing that these indications were delusive — the deliquescent nature of
the gelatinous tissues rendering microscopical observation in their case
a matter of great difficulty. But amid all this controversy no one ap-
pears to have thought of testing the question by means of physiologi-
cal experiments as distinguished from microscopical observations. Ac-
cordingly, I made the experiment of cutting off now one part and now
another part of a jelly-fish, in order to see whether by so doing I could
alter the character of its movements in such a way as to show that I had
removed nerve-centres or ganglia. The results which I obtained were
in the highest degree astonishing. For, on removing the extreme
margin of the swimming-bell, I invariably found that the operation
caused immediate, total, and permanent paralysis of the entire organ.
That is to say, if, with a pair of scissors, I cut off the whole marginal
rim of the bell, carrying the cut round just above the insertion of the
tentacles, the moment the last atom of the margin was removed, the

VOL. XIT. — 20

3o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

pulsations of the bell instantly and forever ceased. On the other
hand, the severed margin continued its pulsations with vigor and per-
tinacity, notwithstanding its severance from the main organism. For
hours and even for days after its removal the severed margin would
continue its rhythmical contractions ; so that the contrast between the
death-like quiescence of the mutilated bell and the active movements of
the thread-like portion which had just been removed from its margin
was a contrast as striking as it is possible to conceive.

I may here add that, although excision of the margin of the bell thus
completely destroys the spontaneity of the bell, it does not at all dimin-
ish the excitability of tl)e bell ; so that, although the mushroom-shaped
mass will never move of its own accord after having been thus muti-
lated, it will give any number of locomotor contractions in response to
an equal number of artificial stimulations, just in the same way as a
frog with its head (nerve-centres of spontaneity) removed will give any
number of hops in response to successive stimulations.

These experiments, therefore, prove conclusively that, in the extreme
marginal rim of all the numerous species of Medusae which I examined,
there is situated an intensely localized system of nervous centres, to
the functional activity of which the rhythmical contractions of the
swimming-bell are exclusively due. And as the Medusm are thus the
lowest animals in which a nervous system has yet been or probably
ever will be discovered, we have in them the animals upon which we
may experiment with the best hope of being able to elucidate all ques-
tions concerning the origin and endowments of primitive nervous tis-
sues. I may here add that these experiments were independently made
by Dr. Eimer, of Wiirzburg.

After I had made the observation which I have described, it seemed
to me desirable to follow it up with a number of other physiological, as
distinguished from histological, researches. For I was much struck by
the certainty and precision of the results which I had obtained by ex-
periment, as distinguished from the uncertainty and disagreement of
the results which had previously been obtained by the histological
methods. Accordingly, I decided, in the first instance, to feel my way
in the direction of physiological experiment before beginning that sys-
tematic histological research which, sooner or later, it was manifestly
imperative to make. Study of function having so far guided the study
of structure as to show that it was in the margin of the Medusae, that
we must look for the principal if not the exclusive supply of central
nervous tissue, it seemed desirable to ascertain hoAV much light a fur-
ther study of function might throw on the character and the distribu-
tion of the peripheral nervous tissue.' Accordingly, I began my physi-
ological work chiefly with the view of guiding my subsequent histo-

' Although it sounds somewhat paradoxical to speak of the central nervous tissue as
distributed ou the periphery of a circular animal, and of the peripheral nervous tissue as
occupying all the more centrally situated parts, the paradox is unavoidable.

BEGINNING OF NERVES.

307

logical work. But, as the physiology of the subject continued to open
up in the wonderful way in which it did, I felt it was undesirable either,
on the one hand, to suspend this part of the inquiry, or, on the other
hand, any longer to defer a thorough investigation of the histological
part. I therefore represented the case to my friend Mr. Schafer, who
very kindly consented to join me in Scotlandj with the view of cooper-
ating with me in the research. The histological results wdiich he has
obtained from a most skillful and painstaking investigation are in the
highest degree interesting. He worked chiefly with Aurelia aurita^
and found that the tissue which performs the ganglionic function in
the marginal bodies is of the nature of modified epithelium-cells, the
ganglionic function of which could scarcely have been suspected but
for the paralyzing effects which are produced by their excision. From
these marginal ganglia there radiate what he regards as delicate pale
nerve-fibres, which sometimes present the appearance of fibrillation.
These fibres spread over the entire expanse of the muscular sheet in
great numbers. It will thus be
seen that these microscopical
researches of Mr. Schafer fully
bear out my inference from the
result of physiological exper-
iments, which was previously
published at the Royal Society
— the inference, namely, that
the entire muscular sheet of
the 3fedusce is overspread by
a dense plexus of nervous chan-
nels. But these researches of
Mr. Schafer tend to negative
another inference which was
published at the Royal Insti-
tution— the inference, namely,
as to the degree in which these
channels are differentiated.^ As the facts on which this inference was
based have not been previously published in the Fortnightly Review.,
and as, apart from the dubious inference, they are facts of the first im-
portance, it is necessary that I should here very briefly restate them.
The annexed woodcut (Fig. 3) represents a specimen of Aurelia aurita
with its polypite cut off at the base, and the under or concave sur-
face of the bell exposed to view. The bell, when fully expanded,
as here represented, is about the size of a soup-plate, and in it all

' I may here state that, previous to Mr. Schiifer's researches, I had observed both
the tissue-elements which he describes ; but I hesitated to pronounce upon their nervous
character. It will thus be understood that even now, without wishing to dispute the
accuracy of his judgment in this matter, I do wish it to be known that the responsibility
of this judgment rests entirely with my friend.

Fig. -2.

3o8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the ganglia are collected into these eight marginal bodies, as proved
by the fact that on cutting out all the eight marginal bodies paralysis
of the bell ensues. Therefore, if the reader will imagine this diagram
to be overspread with a disk of muslin, the fibres of which start from one
or other of these marginal ganglia, he will gain a tolerably correct idea
of the lowest nervous system in the animal kingdom. Now suppose that
seven of these eight ganglia are cut out, the remaining one then con-
tinues to supply its rhythmical discharges to the muscular sheet of the
bell, the result being, at each discharge, two contractile waves, which
start at the same instant, one on each side of the ganglion, and which
then course with equal rapidity in opposite directions, and so meet at

the point of the disk which is
opposite to the ganglion. Sup-
pose now a number of radial cuts
are made in the disk, according
to such a plan as this, wherein
every radial cut deeply overlaps
those on either side of it. The
contractile waves which now ori-
ginate from the ganglion must
either become blocked and cease
to pass round the disk, or they
must zigzag round and round the
tops of these overlapping cuts.
Now, remembering that the pas-
sage of these contractile waves
is presumably dependent on the
nervous network progressively distributing the ganglionic impulse to
the muscular fibres, surely we should expect that two or three overlap-
ping cuts, by completely severing all the nerve-fibres lying between
them, ought to destroy the functional continuity of these fibres, and so
to block the passage of the contractile wave. Yet this is not the case ;
for, even in a specimen of Aurelia so severely cut as the one here rep-
resented, the contractile waves, starting from the ganglion, continued
to zigzag round and round the entire series of sections.

The same result attends other forms of section. Here, for instance,
seven of the marginal ganglia having been removed as before, the
eighth one was made the point of origin of a circumferential section,
which was then carried round and round the bell in the form of a con-
tinuous spiral — the result, of course, being this long ribbon-shaped
strip of tissue with the ganglion at one end, and the remainder of the
swimming-bell at the other. Well, as before, the contractile waves
always originated at the ganglion ; but now they had to course all
the way along the strip until they arrived at its other extremity ; and,
as each wave arrived at that extremity, it delivered its influence into
the remainder of the swimming-bell, which thereupon contracted.

BEGINNING OF NERVES.

309

Now, in this experiment, when the spiral strip is only made about half
an inch broad, it may be made more than a yard long before all the bell
is used up in making the strip ; and as nothing can well be imagined as
more destructive of the continuity of a nerve-plexus than this spiral
mode of section must be, we cannot but regard it as a very remarkable
fact that the nerve-plexus should still continue to discharge its functions.
Indeed, so remarkable does this fact appear, that to avoid accepting it

Fig. 4.

"we may well feel inclined to resort to another hypothesis — namely, that
these contractile waves do not depend for their passage on the nervous
network at all, but that they are of the nature of muscle-waves, or of
the waves which we see in indifferentiated protoplasm, where all parts
of the mass being equally excitable and equally contractile, however
severely we cut the mass, so long as we do not actuallj^ divide it, con-
tractile waves will pass throughout the whole mass. But this very rea-
sonable hypothesis of the contractile waves in the Medusce being possibly
nothing other than muscle-waves, is negatived by another fact of a most
extraordinary nature. At the beginning of this article I stated that the
distinguishing function of nerve consists in its power of conducting
stimuli to a distance, irrespective of the passage of a contractile wave ;
and I may here add that, when a stimulus so conducted reaches a gan-
glion or nerve-centre, it causes the ganglion to discharge by so-called
" reflex action." Now, this distinguishing function of nerve can plainly
be proved to be present in the Medusce. For instance, take such a sec-
tion of Aurelia as this one (Fig. 5), wherein the bell has been cut into
the form of a continuous parallelogram of tissue with the poiypite and

310

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a single remaining ganglion at one end. (The cuts interposed in the
parallelogram may for the present be neglected.) Now, if the end-
mark a of the nervo-muscular sheet most remote from the ganglion be
gently brushed with a camel's-hair brush — i. e., too gently to start a
responsive contractile wave — the ganglion at the other end will shortly
afterward discharge, as shown by its starting a contractile wave at its
own end of the parallelogram b, thus proving that the stimulus caused

I If - 1 '

Fig. 5.

by brushing the tissue at the other end, a, must have been conducted
all the way along the parallelogram to the terminal ganglion 5, so caus-
ing the terminal ganglion to discharge by reflex action. Indeed, in
many cases, the passage of this nervous wave of stimulation admits of
being actually see^i. For the numberless tentacles which fringe the
margin of Aurelia are more highly excitable than is the general con-
tractile tissue of the bell ; so that, on brushing the end a of the paral-
lelogram remote from the ganglion, the tentacles at this end respond to
the stimulus by a contraction, then those next in the series do the
same, and so on — a wave of contraction being thus set up in the ten-
tacular fringe, the passage of which is determined b}^ the passage of
the nervous wave of stimulation in the superjacent nervous network.
This tentacular wave is here represented as having traversed half the
whole distance to the terminal ganglion, and when it reaches that gan-
glion it will cause it to discharge by reflex action, so giving rise to a
visible wave of muscular contraction passing in the direction b a,
opposite to that which the nervous or tentacular wave had previously
pursued. Now, this tentacular wave, being an optical expression of
the passage of a wave of stimulation, is a sight as beautiful as it is
unique ; and it affords a first-rate opportunity of settling this all-impor-
tant question, namely — will this conductile or nervous function prove
itself as tolerant toward a section of the tissue as the contractile or
muscular function has already proved itself to be ? For, if so, we shall

BEGINNING OF NERVES. 311

gain nothing- on the side of simplicity by assuming that the contractile
waves are merely muscle-waves, so long as the undoubtedly nervous
waves are equally able to pass round sections interposed in their path.
Briefly, then, I find that the nervous waves of stimulation are quite as
able to pass round these interposed sections as are the waves of con-
traction. Thus, for instance, in this specimen (Fig. 5), the tentacular
wave of stimulation continued to pass as before, even after I had sub-
mitted the parallelogram of tissue to the tremendously severe form
of section which is represented in the diagram. And this fact, I am
not afraid to say, is one of the most important that has ever been
brought to light in the whole range of invertebrate physiology. For
what does it prove ? It proves that the distinguishing function of nerve,
where it first appears upon the scene of life, admits of being performed
vicariously to almost any extent by all parts of the same tissue-mass.
If we revert to our old illustration of the muslin as representing the
nerve-plexus, it is clear that, however much we choose to cut the sheet
of muslin with such radial or spiral sections as are represented in the dia-
gram, one could always trace the threads of the muslin with a needle
round and round the disk, without once interrupting the continuity of
the tracing; for, on coming to the end of a divided thread, one could
always double back on it and choose another thread which might be run-
ning in the required direction. And this is what we are now compelled
to believe takes place in the fibres of this nervous network, if we assume
that these visible fibres are the only conductive elements which are pres-
ent. Whenever a stimulus-wave reaches a cut, we must conclude that
it doubles back and passes into the neighboring fibres, and so on, time
after time, till it succeeds in passing round and round any number of
overlapping cuts.

Now, it was in view of this almost unlimited power of vicarious
action on the part of the fibres composing *the (then) hypothetical
nervous plexus, that I was in the first instance inclined to suppose these
nerve-fibres to be of a non-fully differentiated character ; and although
the above detailed experiments, and others of a similar kind, proved
that an intimate network of such channels was present, I scarcely ex-
pected that they would admit of being distinguished by the microscope.
But, not to give an inference the value of a fact, I was careful to state
in the publication where this inference was adduced — viz., in the printed
abstract of a Royal Institution lecture — that this position was only
" provisional," and that, until I should have had " time to conduct a
systematic inquiry concerning the histology of the Medusm^'' the infer-
ence in question must be regarded as premature and uncertain." ' Such
a systematic inquiry has now shown that this provisional inference was

' I guarded the inference in this way, lest the fibres in question should afterward
prove to be nerves ; and it will therefore be observed that, supposing them to be nerves,
the above inference cannot be negatived until it is shown that there are no other nervous
channels present of a less differentiated character.

312 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

perhaps erroneous, and that, in any case, when stained with gold, some
of the nervous channels show themselves in the form of fully differ-
entiated nerves. Now this fact, it is needless to say, greatly enhances
the interest of the previous experiments. If, as I formerly said, the
proof of vicarious action being possible to an almost unlimited extent
in these incipient nerve-fibres appeared to me one of the most interesting
among the additions to our knowledge of invertebrate physiology, much
more interesting does this proof become if we further learn that these
incipient nerve-fibres are only incipient in the sense of constituting the
earliest appearance of nerve-fibres in the animal kingdom. For if these
true nerve-fibres admit, from the peculiarly favorable plan of their ana-
tomical distribution, of being proved to be not improbably capable of
vicarious action to so extraordinary a degree, we may become the more
prepared to believe that nerve-fibres elsewhere are similarly capable of
vicarious action. But the interest does not end here, for Mr. Schafer's
numerous preparations all show the highly remarkable fact that the
nerve-fibres which so thickly overspread the muscular sheet of Attrelia
do not constitute a true plexus, but that each fibre is comparatively
short, and nowhere joins with any of the other fibres. That is to say,
although the constituent fibres of the network cross and recross one
another in all directions — sometimes, indeed, twisting around one an-
other like the strands of a rope — they can never be actually seen to
join, but remain anatomically isolated throughout their length. So
that the simile by which I have represented this nervous network — the
simile, namely, of a sheet of muslin overspreading the whole of the
muscular sheet — is as a simile even more accurate than has hitherto ap-
peared ; for just as in a piece of muslin the constituent threads, although
frequently meeting one another, never actually coalesce, so, in the
nervous network of Aurelia, the constituent fibres, although frequently
in contact, never actually unite.

Now, if it is a remarkable fact that in a fully differentiated nervous
network the constituent fibres are not improbably capable of vicarious
action to almost any extent, much more remarkable does this fact
become when we find that no two of these constituent nerve-fibres are
histologically continuous with one another. Indeed, it seems to me
that we have here a fact as startling as it is novel. There can scarcely
be any doubt that some influence is communicated from a stimulated
fibre a to the adjacent fibre h at the point where these fibres come into
close apposition. But what the nature of the process may be whereby
a disturbance in the excitable protoplasm of a sets up a sympathetic dis-
turbance in the anatomically separate protoplasm of b, supposing it to
be really such — this is a question concerning which it would as yet be
premature to speculate.' But if, for the sake of a name, Ave call this

* That it can scarcely be an electricalli/ inductive effect would seem to be shown by
the fact that such effects can only be produced on nerves by strong currents ; and also
by the fact that the salhie tissues of the swimming-bell must short-circuit any feeble
electrical currents as soon as they are generated.

BEGINNING OF NERVES.

313

process, whatever it may be, a process of physiological induction^ we
may apply a similar name to a process which seems closely analogous
to, if it is not really identical with, the process we are now considering.
I refer to some highly reQiarkable observations w^hich were published a
year or two ago in Mr. Darwin's work on " Insectivorous Plants." It is
there stated that, while looking at a linear series of excitable cells with
the microscope, Mr. Darwin could observe the passage of a stimulus
along the series, the protoplasm in the cells immediately stimulated first
undergoing aggregation, then the protoplasm in those next adjacent
doing the same, and so on. Now, the protoplasm in each cell was sepa-
rated from the protoplasm in the adjacent cell by the walls of both the
cells ; yet, notwithstanding there was no observable anatomical conti-
nuity between these masses of protoplasm, a disturbance set up in any
one of the series of masses immediately set up, by some process of phys-
iological induction, a sympathetic disturbance in the immediately adja-
cent masses.

This, then, is one case that seems to be comparable with the case
of physiological induction in the nerve-fibres of Aurelia, and I think it
may be well for physiologists to keep awake to the fact that a process
of this kind probably takes place in the case of these nerve-fibres. For
it thus becomes a possibility which ought not to be overlooked, that
in the fibres of the spinal cord, and in ganglia generally, where his-
tologists have hitherto been unable to trace any anatomical or struct-
ural continuity between cells and fibres, which must nevertheless be
supposed to possess physiological or functional continuity — it thus
becomes a possibility that in these cases no such anatomical continuity
exists, but that the physiological continuity is maintained by some
such process of physiological induction as probably takes place among
the nerve-fibres of Aurelia.

Before quitting the histological part of the subject, it is desirable
to state that at about the same time as Mr. Schafer's work was com-
municated to the Royal Society, tAvo other papers were published in
Germany on the same subject. One of these papers was by Messrs.
Hertwig, and the other by Dr. Eimer. Both memoirs display a large
amount of patient research, and describe the character and distribution
of the nervous tissues in various species of Meclusce. These authors,
however, do not describe the nervous network which has been described
by Mr. Schafer. I may add the interesting fact that the nervous tis-
sues in Medusoi appear to be exclusively restricted to tlie body-layer
which is called the ectoderm, and which is the structural homoloffue of
that body-layer in which the nervous tissues of all the higher animals
are known to have their origin during the life-history of the embryo.

Proceeding now to state some further results of various physio-
logical experiments, I shall begin with the department Stimulation.
And first to take the case of a physiological principle which I observed
in the jelly-fish, and which has also been found to run through all ex-

314 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

citable tissues. If a single stimulation is supplied to a paralyzed jelly-
fish, a short period, called the period of latency, will elapse, and then
the jelly-fish will give a single weak contraction. If, as soon as the
tissue has relaxed, the stimulation is again repeated, the period of
latency will be somewhat shorter, and will be followed by a somewhat
stronger contraction. Similarly, if the stimulation is repeated a third
time, the period of latency will be still shorter, and the ensuing con-
traction still stronger. And so on up to nine or ten times, when the
period of latency will be reduced to its minimwn, while the force of
the contraction will be raised to its maximum. So that in the jelly-
fish the effect of a series of excitations supplied at short intervals from
one another, is that of both arousing the tissue into a state of increased
activity, and also of producing in it a state of greater expectancy.
Now, effects very similar to these have been found to occur in the case
of the excitable plants by Dr. Burdon -Sanderson ; in the case of the
frog's heart by Dr. Bowditch ; and in the case of reflex action of the
spinal cord by Dr. Sterling. Indeed, the only diflference in this respect
between these four tissues, so widely separated from one another in
the biological scale, consists in the tim,e which may be allowed to elapse
between the occurrence of the successive stimuli, in order to produce
this so-called summating effect of one stimulus upon its successor : the
m,emory, so to speak, of the heart-tissue, for the occurrence of a for-
mer stimulus being longer than the memory of the jelly-fish tissue ;
while the memory of the latter is longer than that of the plant-tissue.
And I may here add that even in our own organization we may often
observe the action of this principle of the summation of stimuli. For
instance, we can tolerate for a time the irritation caused by a crumb
in our throats ; but very rapidly the sense of irritation accumulates to
a point at which it becomes impossible to avoid coughing. And simi-
larly with tickling generally, the convulsive reflex movements to which
it gives rise become more and more in controllable the longer the
stimulation is continued, until they reach a maximum point, where, in
persons susceptible of this kind of stimulation, the muscular action
passes completely beyond the power of the will. Lastly, I may further
observe, what I do. not think has ever been observed before, that even
in the domain of psychology the action of this principle admits of be-
ing clearly traced. Who, for instance, has not felt it in the case of the
ludicrous ? We can endure for a short time, without giving any visible
response, the psychological stimulation which is supplied by a comical
spectacle ; but if the latter continues sufficiently long in a sufficiently
ludicrous manner, our appropriate emotion very rapidly runs up to a
point at which it becomes incontrollable, and we burst into an ex-
plosion of ill-timed laughter. But in this case of psychological tick-
ling, as in the previous case of physiological tickling, some persons are
much more susceptible than others. Nevertheless, there can be no
doubt that, from the excitable tissues of a plant, through those of a

BEGINNING OF NERVES. 315

jelly-fish and a frog, up even to the most complex of our psychological
processes, we have in this recently discovered principle of the summa-
tion of stimuli a very remarkable uniformity of occurrence.

Hitherto light has never been actually proved to act as a direct
stimulus to ganglionic matter. It is therefore of interest to note that
it thus acts in the case of some species of Medusce. JSarsice, for instance,
almost invariably respond to a single flash by giving one or more con-
tractions. If the animal is vigorous, the effect of a momentary flash
thrown upon it during one of the natural pauses is immediately to
originate a bout of swimmipg ; but if the animal is non-vigorous, it
usually gives only one contraction in response to every flash. That it is
light per se, and not the sudden transition from darkness to light, which
here acts as the stimulus, is proved by the result of the converse experi-
ment, viz., placing a vigorous specimen in sunlight, waiting till the
middle of one of the natural pauses, and then suddenly darkening. In
no case did I thus obtain any response. Indeed, the effect of this con-
verse experiment is rather that of inhibiting contractions ; for if the
sunlight be suddenly shut off during the occurrence of a swimming-
bout, it frequently happens that the quiescent stage immediately sets
in. Again, in a general way, it is observable that Sarsice are more
active in the light than they are in the dark : it appears as though
light acts toward these animals as a constant stimulus. Nevertheless,
when the flashing method of experimentation is employed, it is observ-
able that the stimulating effect of the flashes progressively declines
with their repetition. The time during which the deleterious effect of
one such stimulus on its successor lasts appears to be about a quarter
of a minute. The period of latent stimulation is, judging by the eye,
as short in the case of luminous as in that of other stimulation ; but
when the efiicacy of luminous stimulation is being diminished by fre-
quent repetition, the period of latency is very much prolonged.

The question as to what part of the organism it is which is thus sus-
ceptible of luminous stimulation, was easily determined by detaching
various parts of the organism and experimenting with them separately.
I thus found that it is the marginal bodies alone which are thus affected
by light ; for, when these are removed, the swimming-bell, though still
able (in the case of Sarsia) * to contract spontaneously, no longer re-
sponds to luminous stimulation ; whereas, if only one marginal body be
left in situ, or if the severed margin, or even a single excised marginal
body, be experimented on, unfailing response to this mode of stimula-
tion may be obtained.

Responses to luminous stimulation occur in all cases equally well,
whether the light employed be direct sunlight, diffused daylight, polar-

' In all th'e waiei-eyed division of Medusce, to which Sarsia belonps, total paralysis of
the bell can only be obtained by removing the entire margin ; but in all the covered-eyed
. division, to which Anrelia belongs, paralysis of the bell ensues on removing the marginal
bodies alone.

3i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ized light, or any of the luminous rays of the spectrum employed sep-
arately. On the other ha-nd, neither the non-luminous rays beyond the
red, nor those beyond the violet, appear to exert the smallest degree
of stimulating effect. Hence, in all respects, the rudimentary eye of
jSarsia appears to be affected by the same qualities of light as are our
own.

Not so, however, in the case of another species of medusa, which T
have called Tiaropsis polydiademata. This jelly-fish responds to lu-
minous stimulation in the same peculiar manner as it responds to all
other artificial — as distinguished from natural ganglionic — stimulation ;
that is to say, instead of giving a locomotor contraction of the bell, it
throws the bell into a violent contraction of a long-sustained character,
resembling cramp or tonic spasm. Now, in the case of this medusa,
the luminous stimulation requires to act for a comparatively long time
in order to produce a response. For, while in Sarsia the period of
latent stimulation appears to be as short in the case of luminous as it
is in the case of other modes of stimulation, in the ease of Tiaropsis
this is not so, although, as regards all modes of stimulation other than
luminous, the latent period is as brief in the case of Tiarojysis as it is
in the case of JSarsia. In other words, while this period is quite as in-
stantaneous in the case of Tiaropsis as it is in the case of Sarsia when
the stimulus employed is other than luminous, in response to light the
characteristic spasm does not take place till slightly more than a second
has elapsed after the first occurrence of the stimulus. Now, as my ex-
periments on Sarsia proved that the only respect in which luminous
stimulation differs from other modes of stimulation consists in its being
exclusively a stimulation of ganglionic matter, we have evidence, in the
case of Tiaropsis, of an enormous difference between the rapidity of
response to stimuli by the contractile and by the ganglionic tissues
respectively. The next question, therefore, is as to whether the enor-
mous length of time occupied by the process of stimulation in the
ganglia is due to any necessity on the part of the latter to accumulate
the stimulatina* influence of light prior to originating a discharge, or to
an immensely lengthened period of latent stimulation manifested by
the ganglia under the influence of light.* To answer this question, I
first allowed a continuous flood of light to fall on the medusid, and then
noted the time at which the responsive spasm first began. This time,
as already stated, was slightly more than one second. I next threw in
single flashes of light of measured duration, and found that, unless the

' The period of latent stimulation merely means the time after the occurrence of an
excitation during which a series of physiological processes are taking place which termi-
nate in a contraction ; so that, whether the excitation is of a strong or of a weak inten-
sity, the period of latent stimulation is not much aifected. The above question, therefore,
was simply this : Does the prolonged delay on the part of these ganglia, in responding to
light, represent the time during which the series of physiological processes are taking
place in response to an adequate stimulus, or does it represent the time during which
light requires to act before it becomes an adequate stimulus ?

BEGINNING OF NERVES. 317

flash was of slightly more than one second's duration, no response was
given. That is to say, the minimal duration of a flash required to pro-
duce a responsive spasm was just the same as the time during which a
continuous flood of light required to operate in order to produce a
similar spasm. From this, therefore, I conclude that the enormously
long period of latent excitation in the case of luminous stimuli is not,
properly speaking, a period of latent excitation at all ; but that it rep-
resents the time during which a certain summation of stimulating in-
fluence is taking place in the ganglia, which requires somewhat more
than a second to accumulate, and which then causes the ganglia to origi-
nate an abnormally powerful discharge. So that in the action of light
upon the ganglionic matter of this medusid we have some analogy to
its action on certain chemical compounds in this respect — that, just as
in the case of those compounds which light is able to split up, a more
or less lengthened exposure to its influence is necessary in order to
admit of the summating influence of its vibrations on the molecules ;
so in the case of this ganglionic material, the decomposition which is
efi'ected in it by light, and which terminates in an explosion of nervous
energy, can only be efi'ected by a prolonged exposure of the unstable
material to the summating influence of the luminous vibrations. Prob-
ably, therefore, we have here the most rudimentary type of a visual
organ that is possible ; for it is evident that, if the ganglionic matter
were a very little more stable than it is, it would either altogether fail
to be thrown down by the luminous vibrations, or would occupy so long
a time in the process that the visual sense would be of no use to its
possessor. How great is the contrast between the excitability of such
a sense-organ and that of a fully evolved eye, which is able to eff'ect the
needful molecular changes in response to a flash as instantaneous as
that of lightning !

Before leaving the case of luminous stimulation, I may observe that
some of the Mediism appear to be very fond of light. For, on placing
a number of Sarsim in a large bell-jar in a dark room, and then throw-
ing a beam of light through a part of the water in the bell-jar, the
MeduscB all crowded into the path of the beam, and dashed themselves
against the glass nearest to the light, very much as moths might do un-
der the influence of similar stimulation. On moving the lamp round
the jar, a cluster of MeduscB always followed it. This latter experi-
ment is important, because it proves that the marginal ganglia are
so far coordinated in their action that they can steer the animal in
any particular direction.

Staurophora laciniata is a large species of naked-eyed medusa,
which responds to stimulation in two very difl"erent ways, according
as the stimulation is applied to the nervo-muscular sheet, or to the
marginal ganglia. For, if the stimulation is applied to the nervo-mus-
cular sheet, the response is an ordinary locomotor contraction ; Avhereas,
if the stimulation is applied to the marginal ganglia, the response is a

3i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tonic spasm of the same kind as that already alluded to in the case of
Tiaropsis polydiademata. Now, it is a remarkable fact that into what-
ever form the bell of this medusa is cut — saj, for instance, into the
form of a long ribbon — whenever a locomotor contraction is started by
stimulating an^- part of the general nervo-muscular sheet, it will pass
all through that sheet, from end to end of the ribbon, in the form of an
ordinary or gentle contractile wave. On the other hand, whenever a
spasmodic contraction is started in the nervo-muscular sheet by stimu-
lating any of the marginal ganglia, it will pass all through that sheet,
from end to end of the ribbon, in the form of a spasmodic or violent
contractile wave. Hence the muscular fibres of this medusa are capa-
ble of liberating this energy in either of two very different ways ; and
whenever some of them liberate their energy in one of these two ways,
they determine that all the other fibres in the nervo-muscular sheet
shall do the same. So that we may adopt a far-fetched but convenient
simile, and liken the muscular fibres in this medusa to the fibres in a
mass of gun-cotton. For in a mass of gun-cotton the fibres are like-
wise able to liberate their energy in either of two very different ways
— viz., either by burning in quiet flame when they are simply ignited,
or by exploding in a violent manner when they are detonated, as by a
percussion-cap. And both in the case of the muscle-fibres of Stauro-
phora and the cotton-fibres of gun-cotton, whenever any one of the
whole number is made by appropriate stimulation (i. e., muscular stim-
ulation or ignition) to liberate its energy in a quiet manner, then all
the other fibres in the mass do the same ; whereas, if any one of the
whole number is made by another appropriate stimulation (i. e., gan-
glionic stimulation or detonation) to liberate its energy in a violent
manner, then all the other fibres in the mass do the same. Now why
the ganglia of this medusa should thus act as detonators to the muscu-
lar fibres, and why, if they do, the muscular fibres should be capable of
two such different kinds of response — these are questions quite novel
in physiology, and as such I will not endeavor to answer them.

Poisons. — As my space is now very nearly exhausted, I will con-
clude this article by very briefly stating the general results of a large
number of observations concerning the action of various nerve-poisons
on the Medxisoe. It is easy to see that this is an important branch of
the inquiry on which I am engaged ; for in the nerve-poisons we have,
as it were, so many tests whereby to ascertain whether nerve-tissue,
where it first appears u2Don the scene of life, is of the same essential
character, as to its various functions, as is the nerve-tissue of higher
animals.

Chloroform, ether, morphia, etc., all exert their anaesthesiating influ-
ence on the Medusce quite as decidedly as they do on the higher ani-
mals. Soon after a few drops of the aneesthetic have been added to the
water in which the Medusm are contained, the swimming motions of the
latter become progressively slower and feebler, until in a minute or two

BEGINNING OF NERVES. 319

they cease altogether, the animals remaining at the bottom of the water,
apparently quite dead. No form or degree of stimulation will now elicit
the slightest response ; and this fact, it must be remembered, is quite as
remarkable in the case of the Jlediisw as in that of any other animal.
Recovery in normal sea-water is exceedingly rapid, especially in the
case of chloroform and ether.

The effects of strychnia may be best observed on a species called
Gyancea capillata., from the fact that, in water kept at a constant tem-
perature, the ordinary swimming motions of this animal are as regular
and sustained as the beating of a heart. But soon after the water has
been poisoned with strychnia, unmistakable signs of irregularity in the
swimming motions begin to show themselves. Gradually these signs
of irregularity become more and more pronounced, until at last they de-
velop into well-marked convulsions. The convulsions show themselves
in the form of extreme deviations from the natural rhythm of this ani-
mal's motion. Instead of the heart-like regularity with which systole
and diastole follow one another in the unpoisoned animal, we may now
observe prolonged periods of violent contraction, amounting in fact to
tonic spasm ; and even when this sj^asm is momentarily relieved, the
relaxation has no time to assert itself properly before another spasm
supervenes. Moreover, these convulsions are very plainly of a iKirox-
ysmal nature ; for after they have lasted from five to ten minutes, a
short period of absolute repose comes on, during which the jelly-fish
expands to its full dimensions, falls to the bottom of the water in which
it is contained, and looks in every way like a dead animal. Very soon,
however, another paroxysm sets in, and so on — prolonged periods of
convulsion alternating with shorter periods of repose for several hours,
until finally death puts an end to all these symptoms so characteristic
of strychnine-poisoning in the higher animals.

Similarly, without going into tedious details, I may say in general
terms that I have tried caffein, nitrite of anyl, nicotin, veratrium, digi-
talin, atropin, curare, cyanide of potassium, alcohol, as well as other
poisons ; and almost without any exception I find them to produce the
same effects on the JledusoB as they severally produce on the higher
animals. The case of alcohol is particularly interesting, not only be-
cause an intoxicated jelly-fish is a ludicrous object to observe, but also
because the experiments with alcohol show how precisely the specific
gravity of the Mednsm is adjusted to that of the sea-water. For if,
after a jelly-fish has become tolerably well drunk by immersion in a
mixture of alcohol-and-water, it is transferred to normal sea-water, the
exceedingly small amount of alcohol which it has imbibed is sufficient
to make the animal remain permanently floating at the surface of the
water until it again gets rid of the alcohol by osmosis.

As my space is now at an end, I must postpone for the present my
account of a number of other experiments which, in point of interest,
though not in point of systematic arrangement, have a better claim to

320 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

statement than some of those which I have now detailed. It is impos-
sible, however, in one article to treat of all the new facts which have
been yielded bj this research ; so that by making the present article
dovetail with the one which was previously pviblished in Nature, and
also with future articles on the same subject, I shall hope eventually to
lay all the results before the general public. — Fortnightly Heview.

■4«»

POPE AiS^D ANTI-POPE.^

By Peofessoe CAKL VOGT,

or THE UNIVEESITY OF GENEVA.

WHILE the political pope in Berlin and the clerical pope in Rome
are trjdng to come to an understanding with each other, the con-
troversy between the medical pope Virchow, of Berlin, and the zoological
pope Haeckel, of Jena, is just beginning. First come speeches, then
pamphlets, and very soon the heavy artillery of books will be brought
into the line of battle, for such is the strategy of the learned and the
tactics of the booksellers. The fray begins with Haeckel making a
speech at the Congress of German Naturalists and Physicians at Munich ;
next, Virchow hits back at the same congress ; then follows a sharp
fire i'rom the riflemen in the newspapers pro and con, according to the
side they take ; and, while this is going on, Haeckel sends into the field
a pamphlet of one hundred pages, as a storming battalion. We have
little doubt but that Virchow will answer with a volume twice as big,
and this is all the more to be expected since, as it seems to us, the
majority in this year's Congress of Naturalists (to judge from the
speeches and lectures delivered at Cassel) leaned 'to the side of
Haeckel. Then, too, the reception tendered to the two leaders in
Paris, where Haeckel was lionized, while Virchow was treated not very
kindly, will probably cause the latter to make another hostile movement.
Perhaps I ought to have entitled this article " Prophet and School-
master," for, while Haeckel confidently advances with his hypotheses
and phantasies, which he would fain palm off upon the public as " de-
monstrated truths," Virchow's manner is characterized by that school-
master air which is one of the prominent peculiarities of the Central
Prussians, and especially of the Berliners. You cannot be in the com-
pany of a man of Berlin for a quarter of an hour without feeling that
you are being corrected — in short, treated as a schoolboy ; and the men
of Berlin are surpassed in this respect only by the ladies. But, as in the
two contestants, with whom we have here principally to deal, the sense
of their own infallibility, which is the very note of the papal office, is
Specially prominent, and determines the whole tenor of their thoughts,

' Translated from the German bv Gustav Miller.

POPE AND ANTI-POPE. 321

the title given above may stand. True, it fares with their oracular
allocutions and their cmathema maranathas as with like utterances at
Rome : though many bow their heads and blindly believe, still there
are not a few doubters and unbelievers, and it is almost to be feared
that the latter will form the majority.

The pith of the matter in dispute between these two men it is not
difficult to get at : in short, it is Darwinism. Haeckel carries this
theory to extremes ; Virchow not only questions its legitimacy, but also
insists that it may have applications that would imperil the state. The
one wants to introduce the theory of evolution even into the schools,
though, indeed, without knowing exactly how ; the other would not only
reject it absolutely, but he even anticipates Prince Bismarck by holding
that Darwinism is in sympathy -with democratic socialism ; Haeckel
tries to prove that the tendency of Darwinism is aristocratic rather;
and, while Virchow sneers at the "souls of cells" and of " plastidules,"
Haeckel counters by affirming that these views are direct logical con-
clusions from the principle on which Virchow has staked his whole
scientific existence, viz., that every cell originates from a cell {omnis
cellula ex cellula).

I have already elsewhere expressed my views touching the quarrel
fomented by Virchow, and have become only more satisfied of their
correctness after reading Haeckel's pamphlet " Free Science and Free
Teaching." While Haeckel has laid himself open to attacks by his
exaggerations and by the brusqueness with which he has striven and
still strives to impose his exceedingly poetical fancies upon o-thers — a
course of conduct which he will as surely regret later, as he now rues,
accox'ding to his own confession, the " youthful extravagances " con-
tained in his " Generelle Morphologic " and in his " Natural History of
Creation ; " while he makes inconsiderate and yet practical demands,
without being clear about the possibility of their realization ; never-
theless on the whole he represents truly the correct basis of freedom
of science and of scientific teaching, so that one can without hesitation
agree with his conclusions in that respect. Virchow, on the other hand,
is the representative of the pedagogues' Philistia, which not only is
proud of its ignorance, where ignorance is excusable, but which coolly
denies everything that it does not understand, just as if it did not exist
at all ; and meanwhile appeals to the Church and to the police for aid
against the practical application of scientific doctrines in the field of
political action. Thus scientific research is to be free in the quiet of
the study so long as there is no special statute to extinguish its lamp ;
but when it comes to the question of teacliing science the situation is
altered, and such a thing is not to be permitted save under restrictions.

Now, let us follow for a while the train of thought of Haeckel's coun-
ter:pamphlet. In the first chapter, entitled " Evolution and Creation,"
he compares the two theories, which, according to him, may be held con-
cerning the origin of organisms, and, as I believe, of universal Nature :

TOL. XIV. — 21

322 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

Either organisms were evolved in a natural way, or they were created
in a supernatural way, independently of one another, Haeckel, then,
considers the evolution theory, first, as a universal cosmic idea, which
assumes one causal law for all natural phenomena — the theory of descent,
according to which all animals and plants are derived from simple pri-
mordial organisms ; and, second, as the theory of natural selection (Dar-
winism in the strict sense), according to which the transformation of
organisms has for its essential condition natural selection in the strug-
gle for existence. And, by-the-way, we here find in Haeckel for the
first time, if we are not mistaken, the admission that " the essence of
the theory of descent is not affected, whether we postulate one or
whether we postulate many common ancestral forms "(monophyletic
hypothesis, polyphyletic hypothesis). It used not to be so, and who-
ever did not believe in the primordial mammal, the primordial amniote,
the primordial fish, etc., was a lost man. In this admission we see the
signs of a reaction from the monophj^letic genealogies, which now fill
whole volumes. Haeckel then tries to prove that Virchow is a believer
in the creation theory, although he nowhere says as much openly. Vir-
chow's expression, which Haeckel quotes, that " the scheme of organiza-
tion within the species is immutable — like will beget like," is suscep-
tible of more than one interpretation.

In the second chapter, entitled " Sure Proofs of the Theory of De-
scent," Haeckel rejects experiment as the highest means of proof,
which Virchow requires ; at the same time he asks : " What is there to
be proved by experiments ? What can experiment prove in this case ? "
But I must confess that I am not at all of his opinion. Haeckel is right
in maintaining that the artificial breeding of our domestic animals, such
as the horse, the pigeon, and the dog, and the culture of our garden-
plants and culinary vegetables sufficiently demonstrate the mutability
of species ; that the forms purposely developed by us differ from one
another far more than wild species do ; that the evidence against the
evolution theory, which was intended to be deduced from hybridiza-
tion, is only empty talk, without sense, because several species do pro-
duce fruitful hybrids : but that the limits of experiment are here reached
we can in no wise admit. Experiments like those made by Madame von
Chauvin with salamanders can be repeated, not only with the lower
vertebrates but also with the invertebrata, and must surely lead to very
important results. I believe I can predict that the activity of working
naturalists, as soon as the present rather artificial methods of harden-
ing and dissection of organs and of whole animals, which reign now
almost exclusively, shall have exhausted themselves, will be devoted
to such experiments as have for their aim to prove that transforma-
tions, such as we see in Xature, can be produced at pleasure. To make
this point clear, I will mention the eyeless cave-animals and parasites.
To any one, however little familiar with the history of the evolution and
the relations of these animals to others, they furnish a complete demon-

POPE AND ANTI-POPE. 323

stration of the transformation of species once inhabiting open space
and endowed with visual power into bUnd creatures with a very re-
stricted range ; but for men who, like Virchow, do not know these
relations, the experimental proof might be given. Who will deny
that such experiments would further science ?

In the third chapter, " Cranium Theory and Ape Theory," Haeckel
considers a familiar question, treated already by Virchow in a lect-
ure delivered in 1869, on " The Crania of Men and Apes." Unfortu-
nately, in regard to this very question, Haeckel has, by his extravagant
theses, seriously weakened the ground on which he stands, if he has not
swept it clean away. Once you say " Man is a true catarrhine monkey,"
then it is difficult to meet the swarm of objections that will be raised.
Virchow's discourse was one of the weakest ever pviblished on this
subject, and, although the author directed his polemic chiefly against
me, I have not seen fit to make any reply, because I should have had
only to point out and meet a misunderstanding (whether intentional or
not I will not decide) of what myself and others have said. Virchow
himself, in that essay, declared that " the resemblance of young mon-
keys to human children is very much greater than that of old monkeys
to adult and fully developed men ;" but he is unable to see that this,
and the fact that as they advance in age the differences become more
pronounced, necessarily lead us to suppose a point of time in the re-
mote past at which the two types developed in divergent directions.
Haeckel, then, is perfectly justified when he says in his reply, " From
this inevitable grouping results the common origin of man and monkey
from one ancestral form ; " and I observe with pleasure that here, again,
Haeckel abandons his extravagant theses, and lays down propositions
which must be regarded as entirely tenable.

Even if to me, as to Oscar Schmidt, Haeckel's doctrines concerning
the " memory of the plastidules " and the " psychic activity of the cells "
appear only as a " shipwrecked hypothesis," and not, as their author
believes, "the sure foundation of empirical psychology," neverthe-
less, I must, on the other hand, admit that Haeckel simply demolishes
Virchow's position in his fourth chapter on " The Cell-Soul and Cellular
Psychology." That in the development of the psychic faculties of the
organism we have the same process of perfectionment, the same division
of labor, the same gradual differentiation, as in the development of the
bodily organs and tissues, cannot be doubted ; but when, at Munich,
Haeckel asserts that we have in the several individual cells the self-
sam,e manifestations of psychic life, of sensation, and of thought ( Vor-
stelhing), of will, and of movement, which are seen in higher animals
made up of many cells, he exaggerates ; this exaggeration can, however,
in part be accounted for by the fact that language possesses no terms to
denote the obscure and in some sense confluescent expressions of these
lowly psj'chic activities. But Virchow has the assurance to say to the
assembled naturalists and physicians : " There is no doubt that, for us,

324 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mental phenomena pertain to certain animals, not to the totality of all
organized beings, nor even to all animals ; this I maintain without hes-
itation. We have no reason yet to affirm that the lowest animals pos-
sess psychic attributes ; these we find only in the higher animals, and
with perfect certainty only in the highest." Verily, Haeckel is right
when he says that any zoologist, on reading this sentence, must throw
up his hands in astonishment and ask, " Where would Virchow fix the
point at which the soul suddenly enters the previously soulless body?"

But Haeckel deals his adversary a still more telling blow when, in
the fifth chapter, " Genetic and Dogmatic Method of Teaching," he
repudiates Virchow's theses touching the freedom of research and the
restriction of the liberty of teaching. Virchow would have only ob-
jective knowledge taught in educational institutions. Haeckel, on the
whole, only enlarges upon what I said in reply to Virchow eight months
ago, when I gave to the Virchovian prescription this form : Give the stu-
dent just so much as he requires to pass his examination and no more.
As Haeckel justly observes regarding Virchow's suggestion that noth-
ing should be taught which is not absolutely certain, all sciences, with
the exception of lower mathematics, would have to be stricken from the
lecture-list ; and, as Helmholtz very properly remarks, it behooves us
to declare that the teacher's work can never bear fruit, save inasmuch
as it conveys to the student a conception of " how the thoughts of in-
dependent thinkers are moving."

The chapter entitled "The Theory of Descent and Social Democracy "
is a brief one, because, as Haeckel tells us, the amazing denunciations
pronounced by Virchow called forth from the moment of their publica
tion the just indignation of thinking men, and were signally rebuked.
It is a pity that Haeckel did not himself conform to the principle which
he laid down toward the close of his chapter, where he says : " Wherein
does all this concern the scientific investigator ? His sole and only
problem is this, to ascertain the truth, and to teach what he has recog-
nized as true, without regard to what corollaries the various parties in
state and church may draw from it." This was the right reply, nay,
the only one, to make to Virchow's ill-judged utterance ; but, instead
of following it up, Haeckel endeavors to prove that the Darwinian ten-
dency can only be aristocratic. A man can read in the book of Nature
whatever he pleases, just as in the Bible ; but Darwinism is neither so-
cialistic nor aristocratic, neither republican nor monarchical ; it is an
explanation of the most diversified natural phenomena, but it rests on
one simple principle. Such is Darwinism — nothing more, nothing less.

In the closing chapter, " Ignorabimus et Restringamur," Haeckel
criticises Du Bois-Reymond and his speech made in 1872. Of this chap-
ter we have only to say that we fully accept all that the author writes con-
cerning the decline of natural science at the University of Berlin. How
far ossification has advanced there, may be understood when we reflect
that the chair once filled by Johannes Mtiller is to-day occupied by

BEL ATI ox OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 325

Reichert. Formerly in Hesse the pay of parsons was attached to the
cure. The result was, that good parishes always fell only to worn-out
parsons, deserving, indeed, of promotion, but who could no longer ren-
der much service. Berlin is steadily approaching the same state of
affairs. It is a pity that German universities cannot be dissolved every
thirty years and manned anew ! Perhaps some life would then flow
into those places of refuge, where the scientific big-wigs rest from the
toils of their youthful years !

SCIENTIFIC EELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO

BIOLOGY.'

By Peofessoe JOSEPH LE CONTE.

THE HiEKAPtCHT OF SciEXCE. — There is a well-recognized scale in
the hierachy of sciences. In the ascending order thestej^s are
— mathematics, mechanics, physics, chemistry, biology, and geology.
Mathematics deals only with space and time, number and quantity ;
and is therefore independent of matter and force. All other sciences
deal also with matter and force, and are therefore properly called
natural sciences, but they individuall}^ deal with different forms of mat-
ter and different grades of force. For example, the physical sciences
deal only with those universal phenomena produced by physical forces ;
chemistry, in addition to these, deals also with a higher but more lim-
ited and special group of phenom^ena, determined by a peculiar force
— chemical affinity; biology, in addition to all the preceding, deals also
with a still higher and far more limited and special group of phenomena
produced by a still more characteristic force — life.

The order of forces and phenomena-groups given above is, as we
see, the order of increasing complexity and of increasing specialty, and
therefore is also the order of their appearance in the evolution of the
cosmos. There can be no doubt that physical forces and their associ-

' The views here presented were first embodied in the form of a lecture in 1859, and
published in the Southern Presbyterian, Review in April, 1860. They are now rewritten
and condensed, the order of presentation entirely changed, and some new thoughts added.
I mention this only to show that they are larjrely the result of independent thought —
for they antedate the recent literature on the subject of sociology, as also Darwin's
work on " Origin of Species." This re-presentation has been afiPected by Darwin's work
only in one point, viz., the introduction of the principle of survival of the fittest. To
two authors only I acknowledge large indebtedness. To Comte I am indebted for the
general idea of a scientific connection between sociology and biology. To Agassiz I am
indebted for a clear conception of the characteristic doctrines and methods of biology. In
fact, all i\\(i formal laws of evolution, as now recognized, were announced by him, although
he did not accept the origin of species by derivation. For the application of these laws
to sociology, and for the mode of presentation, I am alone responsible.

326 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ated phenomena appeared first, then chemical, then vital, and, lastly,
rational (if these can be at all considered in the same categor}'). It is
also the order of dependence, and therefore, also, of historic development
of the sciences based upon them. Mechanics is absolutely dependent
on mathematics, and must, therefore, have awaited its development.
Similarly, physics is dependent on both mathematics and mechanics,
but especially the latter, and therefore must await its development.
Similarly, chemistry must wait on all the preceding, but especially on
physics ; and biology must patiently await the development of all the
preceding, but especially of chemistry.

But observe the following qualification : This is the necessary order
in which these departments taJce on true scientific form^ but not neces-
sarily the order in which they are first commenced to be cultivated.
Astronomy commenced to be cultivated by the Chaldeans long before
mathematics or mechanics was sufficiently advanced to be applied to
it. Biology commenced to be cultivated by Aristotle, or perhaps even
by Solomon, long before chemistry and physics were sufficiently ad-
vanced to be of any use in biological investigations, add indeed before
these sciences were born. In all sciences, but especially in the higher
and more complex departments, there are three distinct stages of ad-
vance : The first consists in the observation, collection, and arrange-
ment of facts — descriptive science. The second is the reduction of
these to formal laws — -formal science. Thus far the science is indepen-
dent of other sciences. The third is the reference of these laws to the
more general laws of a more fundamental science — in the hierarchy as
their cause — causal science. It is this last change only which neces-
sarily follows the order indicated above. Its effect is always to give
great impulse to scientific advance ; for then only does it take on the
highest scientific form, then only does it become one of the hierarchy
of sciences, and receives the aid of all. Thus to illustrate : Tycho-Brahe
laboriously gathered and collated a vast number of facts concerning
planetary motions — descriptive astronomy. Kepler reduced these to
the three great and beautiful laws known by his name — formal astron-
omy. But it was reserved for Xewton, by means of the theory of
gravitation, to explain the Keplerian laws by refemng them to the
more general and more fundamental laws of mechanics as their cause,
and thus he became the founder of physical or causal astronomy. In
other words, astronomy was first a separate science based on its own
facts. Newton connected it with mechanics, and thus made it one of
the hierarchy. From that time astronomy advanced with increased
rapidity and certainty. Astronomy first rose as a beavitiful shaft, un-
connected and unsupported, except on its own pediment. In the mears
time, however, another more solid and more central shaft had grown
up under the busy hands of many builders, viz., mechanics. Newton
connected the astronomical shaft with the central column of mechan-
ics, and thus formed a more soKd basis for a yet higher shaft.

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 327

Characteristic Ideas. — Such, then, is the hierarchy of science
and the mutual relations of the several orders. Now, each group of sci-
ences, as Whewell has shown, has its own characteristic fundamental
idea or ideas. For example, the fundamental ideas of mathematics —
the ideas underlying all its operations — are tliose of mimher and quan-
tity. The fundamental idea of mechanical and physical sciences is that
of physical force. The fundamental idea peculiar to chemistry and
underlying all its distinctive phenomena is that of affinity. The fun-
damental idea underlying all the distinctive phenomena of biology is
that of life. Subordinate ideas under these general heads we shall call,
after Comte, doctrines.

Characteristic Methods. — Again, each group of sciences has also
its characteristic method. The characteristic method of mathematics
is that of notation. We are all familiar with the wonderful power of
this method. By the use of a few figures, viz., the numeral digits, hav-
ing each a value of its own and another depending on position, a few
symbols, a and b, x and y, connected by signs, + ^^^ — ^"d =, the
veriest schoolboy may quickly solve problems which would defy the
unassisted efforts of the greatest genius. The characteristic method of
physics and chemistry is experiment : without the use of this potent
instrument these sciences could not advance a step. The characteristic
method of biological sciences is the method of comparison. The use
of this method we will illustrate after a while.

Now, each group, after it once enters the hierarchy, besides its own
characteristic ideas and methods, uses freely and with the greatest
advantage all the ideas and methods of the lower sciences, but espe-
cially those of the science immediately below, and with which, there-
fore, it is immediately connected. Thus chemistry uses the charac-
teristic ideas and methods of physics and mathematics, but espe-
cially of physics. Biology, besides its own characteristic ideas and
methods, uses freely the methods and ideas of chemistry — physics
and mathematics — but especially those of chemistry. If there be any
other still higher science, it must use with the greatest advantage
the ideas and methods of all lower sciences, but especially those of
biologv.

Again : although the ideas and methods of the lower groups are
imported into the higher groups and freely used there, yet we acquire
clear conceptions of such ideas and doctrines, and expertness in the
use of such methods, only in the group where they are native and
characteristic. Thus, each group of sciences becomes the appropriate
school for its own characteristic doctrines and methods. For example,
physics uses freely the method of notation, but mathematics is the
true school of this method. Biology uses experiment, but physics is
the true school of this method. If there be any other still higher sci-
ence which shall use the doctrines of life and the method of compari-
son, the cultivators of that science should first acquire clear concep-

328 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tions of these doctrines, and learn expertness in the use of this method
by the previous study of biology.

Now, there is, or shortly will be (for it is scarcely yet organized),
a science far higher than any yet mentioned — a science which is the
crown of human knowledge — a science to which all others are subsidi-
ary— sociology. I wish to show the close connection between this
science and biology. I wish to show that it only becomes truly scien-
tific by being connected with biology, and thus placed at the head of
the hierarchy. I wish to show that whatever of recent advance has
been made in this science has been made by the application of the
characteristic doctrines and methods of biology. I wish to show that
biology is an important — yea, more, the most important — preparatory
school for the study of sociology.

Biological Ideas applicable to Sociology. — As already stated,
the fundamental idea of biology is life. Under this general idea there
are two subordinate ideas or doctrines, viz., organization and progress
by evolution. Life is maintained through an organized structure.
Life advances from lower to higher grades by evolution. Now, is not
society, too, endowed with life ? Is not the social life maintained by
organization ; and does it not advance from lower to higher grades by
a process of evolution ? Let us examine in more detail :

1. Organization. — A living organized structure, or an organism,
may be defined as a structure consisting of many different parts, having
different forms, and performing different functions, but all cooperating
to one given end, viz., the life, growth, and development, of the whole.
The animal organism is composed wholly of cells, as a building is of
bricks ; all animal functions are performed by cells ; growth is continual
formation of new cells ; reproduction is the separation of cells to form
a new colony of cells. But the constituent cells of an organism, espe-
cially one of the higher organisms, are not all alike. On the contrary,
they are as diverse in form as they are in function. The many func-
tions of the body are parceled out among the cells by division of
labor, and thus there results an absolute mutual dependence of parts.
So societ\^, also, is composed of many structural elements (individuals),
having different pursuits, i. e., performing different social functions,
and therefore mutually dependent, but all cooperating to maintain the
life of the whole. Society, therefore, is in some sense an organism and
subject to the laws of life and organization.

Again, as in the animal organism, the structural elements, the cells,
are far more numerous than the functions : many cells of similar form
aggregate to form organs, all the cells of one organ cooperating to
perform its function, and all the organs cooperating for the life of the
whole organism. So in the social organism, the structural elements
(individuals) being much more numerous than the social functions,
many individuals of like pursuits or functions aggregate into cor-
porations, professions, trades-unions, etc. These are the organs of

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 329

the social body. They ought to cooperate for the welfare of the
whole,

2. Eoolution. — All the laws of evolution which have been discovered
in organisms apply also to society, but with certain limitations, which I
believe are very significant.

{a.) Laio of Differentiation. — Tlie most fundamental law of evolu-
tion is differentiation. The organism, as I have described it above,
with its cells of diverse forms and functions, was not thus constituted
in the beginning of its existence, but gradually became so by a process
of diflferentiation. In the early stages of an organism the constituent
cells are all alike in form, and each performs, though imperfectly, all the
functions necessary in this early stage. But, as the organism develops,
the cells begin to take on different forms, and to perform different func-
tions, and this process of differentiation continues until, in the mature
condition of the highest organisms, each group of cells (or each organ)
is limited to the performance of one function only. This one function
is its only evidence of life. Now, concurrently with this increasing
differentiation of form and limitation of function, there is, of necessity-,
an increasing mutual dependence of parts, and a sacrifice of the inde-
pendent life of the part to the common life of the whole. In the low-
est condition of the organism, where the cells are all alike, and each
performs, though imperfectly, all the functions, there is a very con-
siderable, sometimes a complete, independent life in each cell ; so that
it may be separated without injury either to itself or to the community
of cells : the independent life is large, the common life is feeble. But,
as we rise in the scale of organization, the independent life of the part
is merged more and more into the general life of the whole — is sacri-
ficed, and goes to make up the common life — until, in the mature con-
dition of the highest organisms, the independent life of the constituents
is reduced to a minimum, while the common life is advanced to a maxi-
mum. This complete merging of the independent life of the part into
the common life — this identification of life with function — is the ideal
of the animal organism : the nearer it approaches this condition the
higher manifestly is the organism.

Or take instead that larger organism, more nearly i-esembling, and
therefore better illustrating, the social organism, viz., the lohole organic
Jcingdom, — its present diverse condition has been reached also only by
a process of differentiation. Commencing in the earliest times, with
similar and independent beings, by a continual process of separation
and differentiation, animal forms have become more and more diverse,
occupying different places and performing different functions in the
economy of Nature ; the higher becoming still higher, and the lower
becoming lower ; the mutual dependence and interaction of all parts
becoming greater and greater, until the ideal seems almost reached in
the present fauna and flora. If we can conceive any organism still
higher than man, or lower than the monera — if we can conceive a re-

330 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lation and interaction between the different kinds constituting a fauna
and flora still more complex, and a struggle for life still fiercer than
now exists, then is the ideal not yet reached.

So society, also, has reached its present highly-organized condition
only gradually, by a process of differentiation. In the early stages of
society the constituent elements are all alike, and each performs, though
in an imperfect manner, all the social functions necessary in this early
condition. As society advances, the pursuits of man become more and
more different, the social function of each more and more limited, until
each is confined to one social function only. Concurrently with this
differentiation of pursuits, the independent life of the constituents, ab-
solutely perfect at first, is merged more and more into the common life
of society, with increasing mutual dependence, as in the animal organ-
ism ; and yet, alas ! with increasing selfish antagonism and competitive
strviggle for life, as in the organic kingdom. Here, too, from the purely
material point of view, the ideal, as in the animal organism, is com-
plete loss of independent life — the complete merging of the individual
independence into the common life of society — the identification of in-
dividual life with social function. Here, too, from the same point of
view, the ideal, as in the organic kingdom, is the highest high and the
lowest low, and the extremest diversity. The higher becomes the high,
the lower sinks the low, and the more extreme the diversity — the more
complete the loss of individuality and merging of constituent life into
social function — the more perfect the mutual dependence, and yet the
fiercer the antagonism and struggle — the nearer do we approach the
ideal. This is manifestly the ideal of material organization, and there-
fore of society, from a purely material point of view. If this ideal is not
only undesirable but impossible — if our whole better nature shrinks
asfhast from its realization — it is because it takes no cognizance of our
higher and distinctively human nature, i. e., our spiritual or moral na-
ture ; it is because the law of our spiritual or moral is different and
even antagonistic to the law of our animal or material nature. The
relation of material imits is by mutual dependence, and yet antago-
nism : the relation of moral units is by mutual sympathy and love.
The existence of a moral nature limits the laws of a purely material
organization. The essential difference, therefore, between the animal
organism and the social organism is that, in the former, the constitu-
ents exist only for the community, while in the latter the community
exists only for the constituents. This transcendent value of the con-
stituents is manifestly the result wholly of the moral or spiritual nature
of man.

There are, then, three stages of social advance : 1. Gregariousness^
or loose, unorganized association of s^»^^/ar constituents : this corre-
sponds in biology to the simplest form of cellular aggregation. 2.
Gradually increasing differentiation and consequent merging of the
constituent life into the common life by limitation of function, and

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 331

therefore mutual physical dependence, until the constituent life is finally
identified with the social function : this corresponds with the ideal of
material organization, 3. The reassertion of the independent person-
ality of the constituents, and the alliance of these by moral instead of
physical bonds — by mutual love instead of mutual dependence : this
has no correspondence in material organization, since it becomes pos-
sible only through a higher nature than the material. There are, there-
fore, two modes of subordinating the individual life to the race — one
by mutual dependence, the other by mutual love. The former destroys
our personality, the second enhances it. He who loses his independent
life by the first method, loses it irretrievably ; he who loses it by the
second method, shall find it again. The former is the ideal of material
organization, and has been partially attained in many forms of society,
ancient and modern ; the latter is the ideal of Christian ci\'ilization.
Society is even now in a state of transition between the two.

(b.) Progress. — The more fundamental law of differentiation limits,
and in the minds of many persons confuses, the idea of progress.
Progress as a law of evolution does not imply advance to successively
higher points along every line and in every part ; but only that the
highest parts become successively higher, and the whole becomes suc-
cessively greater. The constituent parts of a developing organism,
starting from a common level, are some of them advanced to the dignity
of brain-cells, and become the instruments of thought^ while others
sink to the condition of kidney-cells, whose function is only to secrete
urine. But the highest cells become higher and higher, and the whole
organism becomes greater and more complex.

Again, in the development of the organic kingdom, from the ear-
liest oreoloffical times until now, if w^e could trace the several lines of
genetic descent, we would doubtless find as many examples of retrograde
as of advance movement. This fact has given rise to most of the dis-
pute concerning the existence or non-existence of a law of evolution in
the organic kingdom. This dispute is mostly the result of a misappre-
hension of the law of evolution. In the process of differentiation of
the organic kingdom from a common level, the lines of descent went
some upv/ard, some downward, some sideways, every way and any way
to reach some unoccupied place and subserve some different function
in the economy of Nature, but the dominant classes became successive-
ly higher, and the whole organic kingdom successively greater and more
highly organized. The tree of life sent its branches, some upward, some
sideways, some downward, any way and every way for room and light,
but its top went higher and ever higher, and its whole clustering branches
became broader and ever broader.

So is it in society : if we could trace all the lines of genetic descent,
starting from a common level, some would go upward, some downward,
some this way and some that ; in social function some would advance
to the dignity of philosophic thinkers — the teachers of the race — and

332 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

some would sink to street-sweepers and sewer-cleansers. But the high-
est went progressively higher, and the whole became progressively
grander. We are saved from the real as well as apparent degradation
of these lower functionaries, only by the fact that the constituents can-
not in the social organism, as they can in the material organism, be
identified with and merged into their functions. Man has, fortunately,
many other functions besides his social functions, viz., those higher func-
tions connected with his moral nature.

In all progress, therefore, and as a necessary consequence of the law
of differentiation, there is a straight and very narrow way, from the
lowest to the highest, or ideal. Thus, in the progress of the organic
kingdom from the lowest eozoun to the final term, the ideal, of material
evolution — man — there is only one straight and narrow way onward
and upward. Any turning off from that way leads, perhaps, to some
other excellence, but not toward the highest — not toward man. Once
leave the straight way, and there is no getting back upon it. Progress
goes on, but only on the path chosen. The law, so far as material evo-
lution is concerned, is inexorable. The tree of evolution has but one
straight, ascending trunk leading upward to its terminal bud. A grow-
ing-point, once separated as a branch, continues, indeed, to grow, but
only on its own way.

The same is true of higher forms of evolution. The progress of
evolution of the organic kingdom, completed in man, is immediately
taken vip by man and carried forward on a higher plane in social evolu-
tion ; and here, again, we find the same law. In the progress from
primitive man to the condition of the most cultured races, there has
been but one straight and narrow way. Those nations who by difi"er-
entiation turned ofi" from that track, have gone each their separate
^vay — some this, some that — but cannot get back, or have not yet got
back, on the true line of progTess toward the highest. I do not say,
however, that it is impossible to get back, for Reason again comes in to
modify the material law and to confer plasticity on the nature of man.

The same law, again, appears epitomized with terrible significance
in the history of each individual human soul. In the progress of the
human spirit from childhood to the highest ideal of intellectual and
moral culture — the Christian ideal — there is the same straight and nar-
row way. If we turn off from that way, it is easy to go on, but alas !
how hard to get back I But for the modification of material laws by
the presence of a higher law, it would be impossible.

(e.) Cyclical 3fovement. — In all evolution the progress which we
have illustrated under the last head advances not at uniform rate, but
in a succession of cycles by the rise, culmination, and decline, of higher
and still higher dominant functions, principles, ideas, etc. Thus, in the
individual Imman organism, there rise, culminate, and decline, first in
childhood the nutritive functions ; then in youth and early manhood,
the reproductive and muscular functions ; and, lastly, in full maturity,

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 333

the cerebral functions. Or, in the development of the mind, there rise,
culminate, and decline, first in childhood, the perceptive faculties and
the memory ; then in youth atid young manhood, the imaginative and
Eesthetic faculties ; then in full manhood, or even beyond, the faculty o£
productive thought ; and, finally, only late in life, and if the life has
been noble, the moral and religious nature : the first, gathering and
storing the materials for intellectual growth ; the second, warming, vivi-
fying, vitalizing, the materials thus gathered ; the third, using them in
constructive mason-work — in building the temple of science and phi-
losophy ; the last beautifying and ennobling that temple and dedicating
it to holy purposes, thus connecting the evolution of the spirit in this
life with that which, as we hope, continues in another. Similarly, ir»
the development of that greater organism, viz., the organic kingdom,
we have the rise, culmination, and decline of successively higher and
higlier classes of organisms : first of mollusca, then of fishes, then of
amphibia, then of reptiles, then of mammals, and, finally, of man.
And here, too, in the last step we find again the lower or animal evo-
lution connected with and continued by a higher, viz., the social evo-
lution.

So is it also in society. Here, too, we find prog-ress is accomplished
by a successive rise, culmination, and decline, of higher and hig-heF
dominant ideas or principles, determining different phases of civiliza-
tion. The law may be traced not only in the general civilization of
successive epochs, but even in the component parts or principles of civ-
ilization. It is not only cycle beyond and above cj^cle, but also cycle
within cycle. Thus we have successively culminating and declining
Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and now rising but not yet culminating, mod-
ern civilization, confessed by higher and higher forms. In natural reli-
gion we have everywhere first fetichism, then polytheism,^ and then
monotheism. In the direct line of modern religious organization we
have the Jewish and the Christian form. In the Christian Church we
have the primitive or apostolic form, the Roman form, the Protestant
forms, and Ave j-et hope for a still higher and more rational form in the
future.

But, observe : in all development, when a dominant function, faculty,
principle, etc., declines, it does not perish, but only becomes subordinate
to the next rising and higher dominant function or principle, and thus
the whole organism becomes not only higher but also more complex.
Thus, when the perceptive faculties and memory decline in early man-
hood, they do not perish, but only become subordinate to the higher
dominant imaginative and aesthetic faculties characteristic of that age.
Again, when these latter decline they do not perish, but only in their
turn become subordinate to the still higher faculty of productive thought,
which in its turn, and with it the whole character, becomes subordinate
to the moral and religious nature. Thus the perfect man does not for-
get utterly the things of childhood and youth and early manhood, but

33+ THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

incorporates all that is best in each, and subordinates them to the high-
est ; and thus the whole character becomes broader and more universal
in its sj'mpathies, as well as higher. This is the true type of culture
— for culture is naught else than a natural evolution assisted by art.
True culture does not educate us out of sympathy with childhood and
youth, nor above sympathy with the lower classes of society ; it does
not simjDly raise us pygmies on a pla.tform above the heads of our fel-
low-men, but without increasing our stature. If our culture does so, it
is a false culture. The true cultured man stands on the same common
level with other men, only his higher parts rise higher. But see the
necessity which this law lays upon us of never-ceasing culture ! Beau-
tiful, joyous childhood cannot last, must decline. If we do not culti-
vate the higher imaginative and esthetic faculties, our nature inevitably
deteriorates from that time. Glorious youth and young manhood must
decline, and with it our whole nature must deteriorate if we do not cul-
tivate reflective and productive thought. Lofty intellectual power
must also decline. Alas ! how sad to see in old age the whole character
deteriorate for want of moral and religious culture, which alone insures
immortal progress !

The same law holds equally in the development of the organic king-
dom. When the class of fishes declined in power, it did not perish,
but became subordinate to the incoming higher dominant class of
reptiles, which, in its turn, sought safety in subordination to the still
higher incoming class of mammals, and this in its turn to the highest
dominant class, man / and thus the whole organic kingdom becomes not
only higher, but also broader, more complex, more diverse.

So, also, in society. When any dominant idea, principle, or social
force of any kind, characteristic of any phase of civilization, declines, it
does not perish, but becomes incorporated into the next higher phase
of civilization as a subordinate force or jDrinciple. Thus each age in-
corporates what is best in the previous age, and modern society is
the resultant of all the social forces which have acted from the begin-
ning— is the heir of all the ages; and the social organism has thus
become not only higher, but broader, stronger, and more complex.
And here, again, the same necessity is laid upon us, of continuous
progress or else of decline. No mere phase of civilization can last, no
social force can continue in its pristine power. That nation which
refuses to accept the incoming principle is left behind and inevitably
decays.

Observe again : the speediness of the rise, culmination, and decline
— the short-livedness — of any phase of civilization is in proportion to the
limited character of the principles involved — the partialness of the em-
bodiment of all the principles of our humanity. As society becomes
more complex, its cycles become longer, until it reaches continuous,
steady progress — immortality — only in the complete embodiment of an
ideal humanity. Such we believe is the ideal of a Christian civiKzatioru

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 335

Observe again : in all forms of development the culmination and
decline are in strength rather than in quality. This is only another
mode of expressing subordination to a higher force. The perceptive
and imaginative faculties, indeed, decline in strength and vigor as age
advances ; but they steadily progress in refinement, if intellectual cult-
ure continues. If, for example, relish for art is more intense in youth,
it is also more gross. If it declines with age, it becomes also more
refined, more discriminating, higher — i. e., it becomes subordinated to
higher faculties. The same is true of development of the organic king-
dom ; for, when a dominant class declines, it declines in strength^ not
in organization. So, also, is it in society. The principle of chivalry,
for example, culminated in the middle ages. It has since declined in
strength, but gained in refinement ; lost in quantity, but gained in
quality. It has become less fantastic, less extravagant, less affected ;
more rational and genuine. In other words, it has become subordi-
nated to still higher principles.

Observe again and finally : this idea of progress of society by cycli-
cal movement is comparatively modern, and even yet imperfectly appre-
hended. "Whence did it come ? We see no evidence of it among the
ancient Egyptians, Greeks, or Romans, nor among modern Chinese or
Japanese. None of these could conceive any civilization higher than
their own. None of these dreamed of an onward progress of the whole
race, of which their own civilization was only one temporary phase. The
Jews had it not. They could not conceive of their religion and polity
passing away. Is it to be wondered at, therefore, that they rejected
Christ, who preached the unheard-of doctrine of the introduction of a
new era? The idea was, in fact, first announced by Christ himself,
when he taught that the Jewish polity and ritual must pass away, and
yet the law he fulfilled ,' that the form is temporary, but the spirit
eternal ; that the form dies, but the spirit must take on higher and
higher forms. Until that time it is doubtful if the idea of any scheme
of religion or politics being a temporary phase of civilization, and
therefore passing away by the very law of human progress — the idea
that the forms of the social body like the forms of the animal body are
necessarily temporary — ever entered the human mind. How imper-
fectly it is yet apprehended, even by the most advanced peoples, is
plainly shown by the history of both church and state. Immutable
forms have ever been asserted and maintained by force until \'iolently
broken and thrown ofi^ by revolution. This great law is now gener-
alized and made a universal law of all evolution only by biological re-
search.

(c?.) Survival of the Fittest. — The survival of the fittest, in the
fierce struggle for life, is the best known and most universally recog-
nized factor of the evolution of the organic kingdom. The manner in
which this factor operates especially in successive differentiation, and
the increasing specialization of each differentiated form, in causing the

336 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tree of life to branch and again branch continuously, each branch push-
ing its shoot as far as possible in its own direction, are well understood.
The gradual but steady improvement, the strengthening of the blood,
increasing the energies, sharpening the instincts by ruthless destruc-
tion of the weak, the slow, the dull, the unfit in any way, and thus
adapting the remaining strong and active in the most perfect manner
to the various and varying conditions of life, is also clear. This pitiless
principle acts among animals without limit except in the case of the
young of the higher animals, and its good effect is just in proportion
to its pitilessness.

Now, in human society, also, the same principle must act and does
act as a powerful agent of progress, hut not without limit. There is
here introduced a higher moral or spiritual law which limits and modi-
fies the operation of the material law inherited from the animal king-
dom— a law which seeks the survival and improvement of all. As
animality gradually developed into humanity (if we accej^t this view),
this new principle of benevolence and mutual help was added to the
old principle of selfism and mutual antagonism inherited with the animal
nature. A new principle of altruism (as it is now fashionable to call
it) was added to the old principle of egoism, in small proiDortions at
first, but gradually increasing in strength as humanity' is developed.
Under the influence of the Christian ideal this principle has become so
active in modern society as to seriously impair the healthy operation of
the more fundamental principle of the struggle for life. There is little
doubt that the survival of the weak and helpless, and the sustentation
of the unfit and the vicious, are beginning to poison the blood and para-
lyze the energy of the race. Also the survival of so many who would
be eliminated by the operation of the old principle, increases the press-
ure of population on the means of subsistence, and thus also increases
the evil. How shall we, then, settle the claims of these two opposite
principles — the one necessary to the physical, the other to the moral im-
provement of the race ? It is evident that Reason must hold the bal-
ance, adjust the equilibrium, and repair any damage which has already
resulted. This she will CA'entually do by pointing out and enforcing
simpler and more rational modes of life, by sanitary regulations, and
by proper physical education. Thus will it gradually restore and
increase the vigor of the race. It will undoubtedly also prevent the
pressure of increasing population upon the means of subsistence by
limiting reproduction by rational, healthy, and moral methods. I call
special attention to this as another example of the limitation or even
reversal of a purely material law by a higher law connected with our
spiritual nature.

BLACK DIAMONDS. 337

BLACK DIAMOiSTDS.

By M. F. MAUEY.

AS we sit by our firesides and peer into the glowing coals, or watch
the bright jets of flame spring into existence to throw their
cheery light into the room, making weird, fantastic shadows on the
wall, and bringing with them such comforting cheer to our senses of
sight and feeling, we are often brought into very reflective moods, es-
pecially if we are sitting in the twilight, while the cold wind is whis-
tling, and the sharp snow and hail of winter are cUcking against the
windows. But how very few think, or care to know, whence comes
this black substance that adds so much to the comfort and ease and
luxury of life ! Yet an account of its uses and its history and the
story of its formation are instructive in the extreme, and as interesting
as those two great subjects of the day — the telephone and the pho-
nograph. Why the former excites so little comment, and the latter so
much, can be easily explained, for we were born and raised with the
blessings and comforts of the one, and they are of such every-day
occurrence as not to excite attention ; while the others, though less
beneficial to the race, are so new and startling in their wonders, that
they at once claim our thoughts and make us eager to learn of them
and their progress.

There is no one substance in all Nature that has done more to ame-
liorate the condition of mankind, to build up the pride and strength of
nations, to convert the world from barbarity to civilization, or add more
to our ease and luxury, than this black and uninviting-looking mineral.
Through its agency in producing the motive power for machinery
in the steam-engine, the wUd places of the earth are penetrated, men
have ready and quick transit thereto, all the benefits of civilization
flow in, cities spring up, the husbandman has facilities for sending his
surplus produce to the markets of the world, and wasfe places are made
to blossom like the rose. Those nations that possess it in the greatest
abundance and purity are those that rise the most rapidly to the high-
est and mightiest positions ; for it is the mainspring of all manufactures,
and it carries the products of such to the consumers in distant coun-
tries, across the trackless waste of waters, with a certainty and speed
unattainable by any other means ; it enables nations to stretch forth
their armies and navies with such promptness that insults are fol-
lowed by speedy retribution, and invasion met or guarded against.
The light for our homes and cities, the most beautiful and delicate
dyes for clothing fabrics, and the ink that prints our books and papers
to scatter knowledge through the world, all come from the products
of its distillation. In all the power exercised by it, it works greater
wonders than the magician's wand in the "Arabian Nights;" in its

VOL. XIT. — 22

338 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

beneficial effects to mankind, it may be said, like mercy, to shed its
gentle dews from heaven ; and, by being the prime cause of annihilat-
ing distances, it has brought the human race closer together, and is
thus the " one touch of nature that makes the whole world kin."

It is not only the most useful but it is the most valuable of all min-
erals, on account of the wealth that is produced through its agency.
It is well understood that money is a sequence of work, and a com-
munity that has small labor-bills can take the trade away from those
that have to pay high rates. Let us, therefore, see what work this sub-
stance can produce.

In mechanics the unit of work is the power necessary to raise one
pound one foot high, and this is known as a foot-pound. From numer-
ous experiments and observations, an able-bodied man, in working ten
hours a day, exerts an average force of 1,000,000 foot-pounds. "When
coal is burned under a boiler it produces steam, which in turn pro-
duces work as it drives machinery. Therefore, coal produces work,
the amount of which will vary according to the perfection of the ma-
chinery and the appliances for generating the steam. If we take an
average of all kinds of engines, one pound of coal will produce steam
sufficient to exercise a power of 500,000 foot-pounds. Hence the work
accomplished by two pounds of the fuel equals a man's day's work.
Now, mark the surprising results to which this leads us. The popula-
tion of the United States is about 40,000,000, and in 1877 we produced
50,000,000 tons of coal. If one-fourth of this were applied to manu-
facturing, etc., it would do as much work as our whole population, as-
suming them all to be able-bodied men, in 350 days. The coal at the
engine will average about four dollars a ton, while the price of unskilled
manual labor can be put down at one dollar a day. Applying these fig-
ures, we see that the work in the first case would have cost 150,000,000 ;
while in the latter, were it even possible to employ so many men, the
labor-bill would have been $14,000,000,000 ! Can any one for a moment
question the advantage or the value of the substance ?

In these days, accustomed as we are to its multitudinous uses, it is
difficult to imagine ourselves in the position of the early writers, who
touched with uncertain pen on what they thought to be the leading
characters of a rare and ambiguous mineral, or to conceive that its in-
troduction was accompanied by such prejudice and superstition that
laws were actually passed forbidding its use by the very countries that
now consider it as the greatest of their possessions. In fact, it is of
comparatively late date that it has sprung into the important position
which it i^ow occupies.

The earliest express mention made of it as a fuel was about 300 b. c,
in the writings of Theophrastus, the pupil of Aristotle, who speaks of
it as being found in Liguria (now the province of Genoa) and in Elis
on the way to Olympias, where it was used by smiths. Ampelitis, a
black stone "like bitumen," is mentioned by Pliny as available for

BLACK DIAMONDS. 339

medicinal purposes. It has been attempted to show that the ancient
Britons used it, but there is no satisfactory evidence on the subject
prior to the later days of the Roman occupation, and it is not until the
thirteenth century that we obtain clear proof that it was systematically
raised for fuel in England. In December, 1239, King Henry III.
granted a charter for this purpose to the townsmen of Newcastle-upon-
Tyne, and the coal soon found its way to London ; but the complaints
against it became so great, as it got to be more and more used, and the
city more smoky, that in 1306, on petition of Parliament, " King Ed-
ward I. by proclamation prohibyted the burneing of sea coale in Lon-
don and the suburbs to avoid the sulferous smoke and savour of the
firing, and commanded all persons to make their fires of wood" (Stow).
Nevertheless in about fifteen years it effected a lodgment even in the
royal palace, for in 1321-1322, in the " Petitiones in Parliamento," a
claim is made for ten shillings on account of fuel of that sort which
had been ordered by the clerk of the palace, and burned at the king's
coronation, but neglected to be paid for.

On the Continent of Europe the earliest coal known was in the
tenth century, in the coal-basin of Zwickau in Saxony, bui in 1348
the metal-workers of that town were forbidden to pollute the air with
coal-smoke.

In England, in 1577, an old writer (Harrison), in contrasting the
burning of coal in chimneys and of wood without them, alludes to this
prejudice when he says : " Now we have many chimnyes, and yet our
tenderlings complain of rewmes, catarres and poses ; then had we none
but reredoses, and our heads did never ake. For as the smoke in
those days was supposed to be a sufficient harding for the timber of
the house, so it was reputed a far better medicine to keep the good
man and his family from the quacke or pose, where with, as then very
few were acquainted. There are old men yet dwelling in the village
where I remain, which have noted the multitude of chimnyes lately
erected, whereas in their yoong days there was not above two or three,
if so many, in the most uplandish towns of the realme, but each one
made his fire against the reredose in the halle where he dined and
dressed his meate." In 1632 the historian, Stow, remarks, that " with-
in thirty years last, the nice dames of London would not come into any
house or roome where sea coales were burned, nor willingly eat of the
meate that was either sod or roasted with sea coale fire." In some
parts of France the prejudice against the fuel extended even to within
our own day — in 1840 — for St. John, in his "Journal of a Residence in
Normandy," mentions that Dr. Bennett, a Protestant clergyman, told
him that " he had received orders to quit his house, because he burned
coal ; and another English gentleman at Caen', who had invited a large
party, finding his drawing-room very thin, and inquiring the reason,
found that the French had staid away because it teas understood he
burned coal."

340 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

These latter, however, are isolated cases, for we see that its economy
as a fuel gradually beat down prejudice and opposition, and the con-
sumption steadily increased ; but up to the beginning of the eighteenth
century the only purpose for which it was used was for the production
of heat in houses. It was now to enter upon its second grand phase of
usefulness — that for the generation oi force, as manifested through the
agency of the steam-engine, which was first used for mining pxu-poses.
By this application of steam not only was the mining of the coal made
cheaper, but the facilities for distributing it enlarged, and as engines
were improved from time to time, their number increased, because they
could be economically employed in a greater number of industries, and
therefore the demand for this class of fuel rapidly extended.

About 1805 light established a new market and demand for the
black diamonds. For a hundred years or more there were various ex-
periments on the distillation of coal in order to produce tar and oils,
while the practical application of the in\asible gases that were set free
was not thought of till 1793, when WilUam Murdoch, engineer to Bol-
ton & Watt, employed coal-gas for lighting his house and offices, at
Redruth in Cornwall. The earliest application of this light, on a large
systematic scale, was in Manchester, where an apparatus for illuminat-
ing the cotton-mills of Messrs. Phillips & Lee was fitted up in 1804 and
1805, under the direction of Mr. Murdoch. This new invention rapidly
spread, and in 1807 public streets were thus lighted. During 1877 the
gas companies in New York City and the immediate vicinity alone re-
quired about 450,000 tons.

At Coalbrook Dale, in England, between 1730 and 1735, Abraham
Darby made successful experiments in substituting coal for charcoal, in
the manufacture of iron, in the blast-furnace, and thus made the first
step in an industry that now requires millions of tons annually ; though
it was not till 1830 that this trade really began to assume the gigantic
proportions which it now has. At that date Neilson, in Scotland, ap-
plied the hot-blast to iron-furnaces, for the purpose of economizing fuel,
and succeeded so well that a ton of coal now reduces three times as
much iron as it did before. This, like all other inventions tending to
economy, increased the manufacture of iron, and consequently de-
manded more fuel, exactly as the merchant finds it to his advantage to
have quick sales and small profits.

During the last twenty years chemistry has discovered many minor
but none the less striking applications of coal in utilizing the once
waste products of its distillation for gas. Among these may be cited
solid paraffin, which, when made into candles, equals in beauty those
of wax ; from its. analine are obtained many of the most exquisite
dyes, vs^hose shades and tints please the eye and gratify our tastes ; it
seems almost past belief that some of the delicate toilet perfumes come
from it, and that flavoring extracts to pander to our palates are dis-
tilled from the same black substance.

BLACK DIAMONDS. 341

In America it is remarkable that the first discovery of this mineral,
of which we have any written record, should have been made as far in
the interior as Illinois. It is mentioned by Father Hennepin in 1669,
when he found the outcrop of a seam on the Illinois River, where the town
of Ottawa now stands. The first that came into use, however, was that
from Virginia, near Richmond, which for a long time supplied the whole
Atlantic market. Anthracite (of which we produced over 21,000,000
tons in 1877) had quite a struggle to obtain a footing, as its value and
use were not known ; in fact, the first Lehigh coal sent to Philadelphia
in 1803 was considered worthless, and was broken up to be used on
the sidewalks.

In the early days of this country, wood was so abundant and cheap,
and the means of transportation from the interior so limited, that the
demand for fossil fuel in the United States could be met by a few
thousand tons a year. We have no accurate record of the tonnage
which VKis produced, but it was about 1,600 tons of anthracite and
about 80,000 tons of bituminous in 1820, Avhich was one ton to every
one hundred and twenty persons of the population. As the country
was settled, railroads built, furnaces erected, and steam and machinery
came into greater and greater use, the demand increased, until in 1877
the production was one and a quarter ton to every man, woman, and
child of the Union — or 50,000,000 tons. The vast quantity represented
hy these figures can be better brought before the mind by stating that,
if this amount were packed in a solid mass, it would make a wall from
New York to Washington — two hundred and forty miles — ten feet wide
and eighty-five feet high ; while, if it were put together in the broken
state in which coal is commonly used, the wall would be one hundred
and sixty-one feet high. This tonnage places our country as the second
coal-producer in the world. Great Britain being first, with an output
in 1877 of about 130,000,000 tons.

From what has been said regarding the power and wealth that this
article bestows, the following table shows that the American Union has
a most magnificent future prospect, as it is destined to become the
great fuel-producer of the earth ; and that not only because of the
vast area of its coal-fields, but because of the thousands of square miles
wherein the seams are so easily accessible to the miner; as they often
lie either above water-level or at very moderate depths, thus obviating
the expense of deep and costly shafts to reach them, and this is a very
great advantage. " So immense indeed are the riches of the American
coal-measures that, in their conception of the future development of
mankind, geographers, historians, philosophers, agree in the idea that
the United States have, especially in their coal-deposits, the elements
for the greatest and most perfect development of the human race"
(Lesquereux).

342

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

COUNTRIES.

Area of Coal-fields in
Square Miles.

Percentage of Total
Area.

TTnitpd States

192,000

18,000

11,900

3,000

1,800

1,800

1,800

900

28,800

73.85

N^ova Sootia

6.90

(xi'pat Britain

4.60

1.20

O.TO

O.VO

Austria

0.70

0.35

Cliili Australia India China, etc

11.00

Totals

260,000

100.00

And now for the story of how this wonderful mineral was formed.
It is one of the well-established facts of geology that it is of vegetable
origin. This is not simply a theory, for in Nature coal can be seen in
various stages of formation where vegetable tissue is heaped up and ac-
cumulated in bogs. As we dig down into these bogs where the woody
matter is surrounded by moisture, and in a favorable position for slow
decomposition, it is seen that it is transformed into a dark, combusti-
ble compound which is first called peat ; then, as it becomes harder
and more changed, lignite ; while the oldest peat-bogs in Europe have,
at or near their bottom, thin layers of hard, black matter that neither
examination by the eye nor analysis by the chemist can distinguish
from true coal, and which, therefore, must be true coal. " In Holland,
Denmark, and Sweden, the thick deposits of peat are separated into
distinct beds by strata of sand and mud, giving the best possible elucida-
tion of the process of stratification of the coal-measures" (Lesquereux).
For their formation these bogs require a basin rendered impermeable
by a substratum of clay and an active growth of aquatic or semi-aiirial
plants, having their roots in water, while their branches and leaves ex-
pand on the surface thereof, or rise in the air above it, constantly grow-
ing in the same place, whose debris, falling year after year, is heaped
up and preserved against atmospheric decomposition by stagnant water
or great humidity in the air. It was during the Carboniferous epoch,
when our principal and most valuable seams of coal were deposited,
that all these favorable circumstances were in their highest develop-
ment. For a dense vegetation we also want a warm, moist, and equable
climate, and air more or less charged with carbonic-acid gas, as that is
the food of plants (just as the oxygen gives life to man), though it is
poisonous to warm-blooded animals, it being impossible for such to live
in an atmosphere containing more than about one per cent, of it.

During the Carboniferous age of the earth's history the water cov-
ered very much more of area than it now does, and portions of the con-
tinents were so little raised above its surface that a slight elevation or
depression would change them from marshes and lagoons into dry land,
or sink them below the surface of the sea. When air passes over, or
rests on, oceans, or lakes, or rivers, etc., it becomes laden with vapor,

BLACK DIAMONDS. 343

whose influence is very potent, as its power of absorbing and retaining
heat is thousands of times greater than that of air. Hence, as the ocean
was so largely preponderant, there was an atmosphere heavily charged
with moisture, which in time was favorable to a warm and equable cli-
mate. In fact, the want of annual rings in carboniferous plants proves
that there was no winter, and, as the same coal-plants grew at the same
time in Europe and America, the same climate must have prevailed.
The air was also charged with carbonic acid, for there are no fossils
(which Prof. Huxley so beautifully says are the labels that an Almighty
hand has put upon the specimens in Nature's museum) in this or any
other earlier formation of warm-blooded animals.

In all these circumstances, therefore, there exist the most advan-
tageous conditions for the rapid and continuous growth of vegetation,
and, judging from the fossils thereof, it must have gone on with a
density and luxuriance that wellnigh surpasses conception. Floating
vegetables first made their appearance, spreading their branches and
leaves on the surface of the water, and filling the basin or lagoon with
their debris^ thus forming a support for the more aerial vegetation,
compared with which anything in our day of the same species, in re-
spect to size and quantity, fades into insignificance.

The exuberant growth of the tropics is astonishing to us ; but it is
as nothing when we contemplate that of the coal era. For example :
JEquisetum, the horse-tail flag, with us is never more than half an inch
in diameter, while in the coal-rocks gigantic reeds of this kind were as
much as fourteen inches in diameter. Living club-mosses, even in our
tropics, attain no great height, but there they were as thick as a man's
body and sixty and seventy feet high. Our ferns are of insignificant
size, but in those olden days they raised their feathery foliage to a
height of sixty feet and upward. There are others that grew to the
same wonderful proportions ; and as they fell others sprang up, and
thus the " heaping " process continued until Nature caused some sub-
sidence of the ground ; the water closed over it all, and the currents
deposited mud and sand upon it : if the former, a stratum of slate was
the ultimate result ; if the latter, a stratum of sandstone. When this
subsidence ceased, fresh growths sprang up and a new deposit was
formed, to sink and be covered in its turn ; and as often as these
periods of rest and submergence were repeated, so often did a new coal-
bed come into existence, and in this is a simple rational explanation
why the coal-measures have more than one seam in them.

If, on the other hand, an elevation took place, the roots of the
plants were deprived of their moisture, and they not only ceased grow-
ing and the deposit accumulating, but the rains and surface-drainage
graduallj' eroded the latter away, and, as it floated ofi*, it became mixed
with any earthy matter which the waters may have had in mechanical
suspension ; and, when it was finally deposited in some lagoon or over-
spread other formations, it ultimately made an inferior coal, or a black

344 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

slate, according to the preponderance of the mud which was with it.
Thus we can understand one of the causes why some regions have more
seams than others.

When the deposit was covered up, as before explained, a gradual de-
composition took place, which consisted in an evolution of a portion of
the carbon, and most of the hydrogen and oxygen, in the form of water
and gases from the woody tissue, leaving a larger and larger percentage
of the carbon of the plant behind, while the increased pressure of the
accumulating strata above served to compress and solidify the mass.
But before this solidification took place, as Liebig has proved, by direct
experiment in the process of slow decomposition of vegetable matter
in water, a softening occurred, and it is to this that we must ascribe
the fact that no delicate fossils are ever found in the coal itself, as
the tissue and form were destroyed by the softening and subsequent
pressure, though cases are met with where solid trunks of trees have
resisted this softening process, and are found standing erect in the
seams while their roots are plainly traced in the clay -slate below. In the
slates above and below, which, it must be remembered, were originally
soft, plastic mud, the plant-impressions, however, are as sharp and clear
as though they had been sketched with an artist's pencil.

The formation of different kinds of coals, such as anthracite, serai-
anthracite, semi-bituminous, and the many different varieties of bitu-
minous, is supposed to be owing to the different degrees of progress
made in the process of softening and carbonization, and to there hav-
ing been freer escape for the gaseous constituents in some cases than
in others. Chemists have actually converted vegetable matter into
coal of all degrees of hardness, and possessing all the various qualities
of that formed by Nature, and observation and their labors seem to
show that all coal was first formed of the bituminous variety, and
that anthracite is the result of igneous action to which it was subse-
quently subjected (MacFarlane). When this change has been carried
still further, the result is plumbago, or black-lead.

I have thus endeavored to set forth in a plain, comprehensible man-
ner the theories of the formation of our fossil fuels, and, while difficul-
ties may suggest themselves to the reader, still that the}'^ are derived
from the vegetable kingdom admits of no doubt, this being one of the
well-established facts of geology.

There is one more benefit that coal has been the cause of bestowing
upon mankind that is as striking as all those previously set forth, to
which I would call attention before closing. The Bible tells us that the
beasts of the field and the fowls of the air were not created until after
the earth brought forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree
yielding fruit after his kind ; and with the aid of science we can see a
reason for this. It has been stated that one of the requisites for the
vegetation of the coal era to flourish as it did was that the atmosphere
should be charged with a compound of carbon and oxygen known as

THE DEVIL-FISH AND ITS RELATIVES. 345

carbonic-acid gas, and that this gas, except in very small proportion,
destroys life in warm-blooded animals. It was the tree that drank in
the noxious vapor through its leaves, decomposed it, took of the carbon
to add to its stature, and to yield seed and fruit after its kind, while it
breathed the life-producing oxygen back into the air, and in this way
the atmosphere was purified for the use of man and beast.

Thus in the economy and wonderful working of Nature not only
was this gas, that precluded life, removed, but it was stored up for the
future use of that same life that its removal made possible, so that coal,
besides giving light and warmth, and a thousand other material bless-
ings, was the prime cause of the very air we breathe. Surely it is,
and it has been, a wonderful and blessed boon to the earth and its pop-
ulation, and it is of no wonder that it has been given the name of the
most costly gem we know when it is called black " diamond."

-♦♦V-

THE DEYIL-FISII AND ITS EELATIYES.*

Br W. E. DAMON.

PERHAPS no better introduction to this chapter can be given than
to recall to the minds of our readers the terribly vivid description
of the devil-fish by that grand master of romance, Victor Hugo ; for,
though incorrect in several scientific details, the general description is
the best we have had, though Jules Verne's is almost as dramatic and
nearer to Nature. In " Les Travailleurs de la Mer " M. Hugo says :
" To believe in the existence of the devil-fish, one must have seen it.
Compared to it the ancient hydras were insignificant. Orpheus, Homer,
and Hesiod, imagined only the chimajra — Providence created the octo-
pus. If terror was the object of its creation, it is perfection. The devil-
fish has no muscular organization, no menacing cry, no breastplate, no
horn, no dart, no tail with which to hold or bruise, no cutting fins, or
wings with claws, no prickles, no sword, no electric discharge, no venom,
no talons, no beak (?), no teeth. It has no bones, no blood, no flesh.
It is soft and flabby, ... a skin with nothing inside of it. Its imder
surface is yellowish ; its upper earthy. Its dusty hue can neither be
imitated nor explained ; it might be called a beast made of ashes which
inhabits the water. Irritated, it becomes violet. It is a spider in form,
a chameleon in coloration.

" Seized by this animal," he adds, " you enter into the beast ; the
hydra incorporates itself with the man ; the man is amalgamated with
the hydra. You become one. The tiger can only devour you ; the
devil-fish inhales you. He draws you to him, into him ; and, bound and

' From " Ocean Wonders." in the press qf D. Appleton & Co.

346

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

helpless, you feel yourself slowly emptied into this frightful sac, which
is a monster. To be eaten alive is more than terrible ; but to be drunk
alive is inexpressible ! "

This overwrought but wonderfully dramatic description (but a small
part of which we have quoted) at once excited a popular interest in the
habits and history of the octopus, though it was well known and de-
scribed by Aristotle before the Christian era. Moreover, the animal so

Fig 1.— Octopus or Devil-Fish ( Octopus vulgaris).

graphically pictured by the novelist was a mere " baby devil " in com-
parison with many which exist, and which have been described by that
enthusiastic naturalist, Prof. Verrill, of Yale College.

In a letter addressed to me on this subject by Prof. Spencer F.
Baird, under date of April 1, 1878, this distinguished naturalist says :
"The giant squid in the New York Aquarium can only be designated
as an infant or dwarf in comparison with the gigantic species of the
Pacific Ocean— those upon which the sperm-whale is known to feed.
Chunks of squid-remains are not infrequently found in the throat or
stomach of the sperm-whale, apparently indicating specimens from ten
to fifty times the size of the Newfoundland variety. I was informed
that a considerably larger specimen than that at New York was cast
ashore at Newfoundland later in the season. The arms of the latter, if
I recollect right, were some ten feet longer than those of the other."

The specimen referred to by Prof. Baird, as at the public aquarium
in New York, is of the species known as Architeuthis princeps. It
measures about forty feet, and is preserved in alcohol. I have in a bot-
tle some specimen portions of the sucking-disks, showing the serrated
edges, from the arms of this terrible animal ; and I have also a perfect
specimen of a smaller species of the animal itself in my private collec-
tion.

Prof. Yerrill's reports apply to the devil-fish found in our northern
seas, and Prof. Baird mentions those cast ashore at Newfoundland; but

THE DEVIL-FISH AND ITS RELATIVES.

347

that they are not limited to the northern waters is certain. Tlie late
Captain Frederick Reimer, of New Jersey, a very intelligent observer,
who was in Beaufort Harbor, North Carolina, in 1863, described one
that he saw there which measured fully thirty feet in length. Any one
who has seen the specimen captured at Newfoundland can readily con-
ceive how such a monster could stretch out its two long arms and seize its
prey. These arms together form a pair of powerful pincers at their ex-
treme ends, and are furnished for their whole length with two rows of

Fig. 2.— The Giant Squid.

perfect sucking-disks, or some two thousand air-pumps ; the edges are
also cut into sharp, saw-like teeth, as hard as steel, and these are buried
in the flesh of its prey. With all these appliances it could easily reach
a distance of twenty -five feet, and bring the body of a man to its mouth,

348

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

where, with its powerful iron-like beak, it crushes the helpless form, and
swallows or drhiks it down, as Victor Hugo says.

My own experience with these creatures has been principally in the
Bermudas. They are there caught in basket-traps, formed of wood.
With a trap baited with mussel, crab, or lobster, of which the octopus
is particularly fond, we row along the island-shore, among the more
rocky parts, until we discover some indication of the animal's retreat.
Their hiding-places can only be discovered by experts, but one of the
trails by Avhich they are traced is the presence of dead shells in un-
usual quantities, particularly skeletons of crabs, which will be pretty
certainly seen near the water's edge, or at the mouth of the cave
inhabited by a " devil." The clearness of the waters greatly aids in
the search. When a promising location is reached, we throw over-
board the trap, which sinks to the bottom of some ledge, or rests upon
a reef of coral. A rope, which is attached to it, is secured to a buoy
to mark its place on the surface of the sea, and it is left for twenty-four
hours. Then we return and haul it up, and, if the place of deposit has
been well chosen, we shall soon see the long arms of Mr. Devil protrud-
ing through the basket, searching and stretching in all directions, seek-
ing to understand how it is that positions have become so reversed
— that he is the captured instead of the capturing party. His color
changes with anger and vexation, and his body then displays numerous
bunches or tubercles, which always appear when the animal anticipates
danger.

The trap being opened, we seize him quickly by what we must call
neck, the portion between the head and trunk, while his eight arms
or legs, as you may choose to call them, are struggling and twisting in
all directions, sometimes becoming attached to our own arms and twin-

FiG. 3.— An Octopus running.

ing about them. Those which I caught and handled had arms of re-
markable softness and suppleness, so that their contact felt more like a
running liquid upon my flesh than a structural substance ; * and, indeed,
though so formidable under certain circumstances, the preponderance
of fluidity in their composition may be judged from the fact that I my-
^ This lack of tension probably resulted from my pressure upon the neck.

THE DEVIL-FISH AND ITS RELATIVES.

349

self saw one, which measured three feet in length by five or six inches
in width, sqeeze or mn itself through a crevice not over half aii inch
in width !

I should have mentioned that if it is desired to preserve the octopus
alive, the pressure on the neck should not be too severe, for that is their
vulnerable point ; and a person attacked by one should never lose time
in striving to loosen its arms, but grasp if possible this portion connect-
ing the head and body, in which way they may be easily killed.

In regard to their powers of locomotion upon land, on which there
has been considerable controversy, I can assure the reader that I have
seen a full-grown octopus at the Bermudas spring up out of the water,
only a few feet forward of the boat I was in, and run up a perpendicular
rocky cliff for more than two hundred feet ! This ledge of rock bore a
general resemblance to our Hudson River Palisades at their steepest
portion. We soon learned the cause of this seemingly strange perform-
ance, when we discovered one of those beautiful bright-red crabs, which
are native to the locality, trying to escape from the clutches of this
devil-fish. The crab, being frightened almost out of its simple wits,
had run up the rocks for safety ; but its tactics proved sure death in
the end. As to the speed of the octopus, it appeared tome to travel
much faster than I could run. At least, 1 should not care, if unarmed,
to engage in a race with one, unless Mr. Devil started a good way
ahead.

In this case I soon came into closer acquaintance with our agile
friend, for the next morning 'I had the satisfaction of discovering that
he had walked into our trap, which
had carefully placed near his

we

cave ; and now that we could see
him face to face, we found that his
strength was enormous as compared
with his moderate size. Being placed
in a bucket of water, such as is usual-
ly found on a ship's deck, he attached
his eio'ht arms to the bottom and sides,
by means of his powerful and perfect-
working suction-disks, so firmly, that
I several times lifted the bucket,
water and all, by taking hold of the
animal's body, and twirled it over my
head. The more I twirled the more

firralv it stuck. An octopus will not Fig. 4.— Peaelt Nautitits {mmtilm pom-
•' , . „ iJiwws), showing chambers inside of Bhell.

relax its hold "on compulsion, any

more than Falstaff would " give reasons." It is as self-willed as some

human animals.

According to scientific classification, the octopus belongs to the

division of soft-bodied Mollusca, and the class of Cephalopoda — mean-

35°

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing "feet proceeding from the head." Of these the octopus, as its
name indicates, has eight feet, or arms ; for, though these long append-
ages are sometimes used as feet, they are habitually used as arms.

Of the octopoda family is the small paper nautilus or argonaut.
How few of our readers who have admired this beautiful shell, with its
mother-of-pearl lining, have realized that its former inhabitant was own
cousin to the horrible devil-fish ! — a female cousin, we must add, for the
shell is not connected with the animal organically, but is held in posi-
tion by two of the long arms, with the sole purpose of protecting the
eggs. The male argonaut has no shell.

Though all the octopods, large or small, can swim freely at will,
such is not their habit ; they prefer to lie concealed, or partially so, on

Fig. 3.— Paper Nautilus (Argonauta argo).

the side or in the clefts of rocks. There the octopod's body is protected
from the attacks of other animals, whUe it can extend its long feelers in
search of prey, of which fish, mollusks, and crustaceans, are the principal
objects. Its movements, when an object of food is perceived, are marvel-
ously rapid, swifter than the flight of an arrow from the bow of an expe-
rienced hunter. The long, flexible arms grasp the victim ; its hundreds
of suckers, acting like pneumatic holders, make escape impossible ; and,
as the long arms draw the object nearer and nearer, the other shorter
arms add their multiplied disks, forming " a perfect mitrailleuse of in-
verted air-guns, which take horrid hold, and the pressure of air is so
great that nothing but closing the throttle-valve can produce relaxa-
tion." This throttle-valve is the neck, as we have before described.
Those lengthy appendages, the limbs, are rather in the way when the
animal is swimming, and would act as drag-anchors if left pendent ;
but the octopus usualh' draws them close alongside, whence they extend
in an horizontal position, acting the part of a tail to a kite. It propels
itself by drawing in and expelling water through its locomotory tube.

THE DEVIL-FISH AND ITS RELATIVES.

351

The octopus swims backward, and it has been remarked that it changes
its color to a darker hue when it starts out for a swim.

This change of hue, apparently at will, is one of the most pe-
culiar characteristics of the octopus. It may be considered the cha-
meleon of the sea. Its ordinary color when in repose is a mottled
brown ; but if irritated it assumes a reddish hue, approaching to purple.
Nature seems to have been almost superfluously careful in furnishing
this animal with protecting elements ; for this coloring-matter, which
resides between the inner and outer skin, enables it even to assume the
color of the ground or rocks over which it travels, so that one can
hardly say what color it is before it may have changed to something
quite different. When exhausted after a battle or a struggle to get
out of a trap, it turns pale, like a human being.

Fig. 6.— Argonaut without the Shell.

Others besides Victor Hugo's hero have had a chance to test
the strength of these devil-fishes. Major Newsome, R. E., when sta-
tioned on the east coast of Africa in 1856-'o7, undertook to bathe in a
pool of water left by the retiring waves. He says : " As I swam from
one end to the other, I was horrified at feeling something around my
ankle, and made for the side as speedily as I could. I thought at first
it was only sea-weed ; but as I landed and trod with my foot on the
rock, my disgust was heightened at feeling a fleshy and slippery sub-
stance under me. I was, I confess, alarmed ; and so apparently was
the beast on which I trod, for he detached himself and made for the
water. Some fellow -bathers came to my assistance, and he was event-
ually landed. ... As the grasp of an ordinar3"-sized octopus holding
to a rock is not less than thirty pounds, while the floating power of a
man is between five and six pounds, I believe if I had not kept in mid-
channel it would have been a life-and-death struggle between myself
and the beast on my ankle. In the open water I was the best man ; but
near the bottom or sides, which he could have reached with his arms,
but which I could not have reached with mine, he would certainly have
drowned me."

The major was right ; he had every chance of sharing the fate of
the immortal Clubin.

352 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

When a crustacean casts a limb from its junction with the body, it
is after a time reproduced ; if injured below this point, it has no re-
cuperative power. But our " devil-fish," which really seems favored
beyond its deserts, will reproduce any injured portion of its arms, at
whatever point they may have been severed ; of the numerous speci-
mens which have been scientifically examined, many showed that one,
two, or more arms have been either repaired or reproduced ; and some
of the female specimens have shown a loss of the whole eight arms,
but all more or less restored.

Fig. 7. — Aegonaut witu the Shell.

Another kind of exuviae observed with the octopods is the outer
skin of their long limbs, which they not infrequently shed. These
cast-off skins float upon the water, and are one of the indications which
lead to the discovery of their retreats. When the outer skin becomes
too tight for the growing animal, or is worn too smooth by frequent
contact with the rocks, the creature may be seen rubbing its arms
against each otiier as if they were undergoing a scrubbing or cleansing
process, and soon these thin, filmy skins may be seen floating away on
the surface of the water.

At certain periods there appears in the male octopus what is called
the hectocotylus development in one of the arms. When this gentle-
man would a-wooing go, as Mr. Lee says in his valuable little book on
this subject, and " he ofi"ers his hand in marriage to a lady octopus, she
accepts it most literally, Jceeps it, and walks away with it ; for this
sino^ular outgrowth is detached from the arm of the suitor, and becomes
a separate living creature," specimens of which have been preserved in
the Museum of Natural History in Paris. This hectocotylized arm is
afterward reproduced in the male.

It is surprising with what care the female watches over the devel-
opment of the eggs. Having selected a snug retreat in the rocks, she
will barricade it by dragging to the entrance other portions of rock, or
perhaps a pile of oysters — anything out of which she can make a strong
breastwork or line of defense ; and then she sits ~*on guard ready to
attack any intruder, even though it be her own mate. The eggs when
first laid are about the size of grains of rice, and are arranged upon a

THE DEVIL-FISH AND ITS RELATIVES. 353

stalk which is attached to the rock by a cement secreted by the parent,
and to which each egg is separately attached, like a mass of bananas
on its stalk, only much more closely packed, the number being im-
mense ; an octojDus will produce in one laying from forty to fifty thou-
sand. Mr. Lee describes one that he had under observation in an
aquarium, which he says " would pass one of her arms beneath the
hanffingr bunches of her esfffs, and, dilating the membrane on each side
of it into a boat-shaped hollow, would gather and hold them in, as in a
trough or cradle. Then she would caress and gently rub them, occa-
sionally turning toward them the mouth of her flexible exhalent and
locomotor tube, which resembles the nozzle of a hose-pipe, and direct
upon them a jet of water." The object of the syringing process was
probably to free the eggs from parasites, or to prevent the growth of
confervse upon them. At the end of five weeks some of the eggs were
taken from the nest for observation under the microscope, which showed
that the young octopods were already alive and freely swimming within
the shell ; and most extraordinary was it to see that these immature
creatures exhibited the characteristic changes of color at that early

Fig. 8.— Sepia officinaus and Shell.

stage of development, flushing red apparently with anger when dis-
turbed. The period of incubation is about fifty days, and during all
that time the mother octopus brooded her eggs with the tenderest care ;
so that the observer almost ceased to look upon her in the light of a
" devil-fi.sh," and recognized that at least the maternal instinct was
not dependent for its development upon external beauty.

When the young octopus emerges from the egg it is about the size
of a large flea, but has none of the arms developed ; these appear sim-
ply as "rudimentary conical excrescences, having points of hair-like
fineness arranged in the form of an eight-rayed coronet upon the head."
The amiable disposition of all female devil-fish is not perhaps equal to
that of the one described above ; but it is not an unusual event for
VOL. XIV. — 23

354 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them to die from the effects of exhaustion at the end of the long brood-
ing period. This may perhaps partly result from insufficient nourish-
ment, as they must evidently miss many chances of obtaining food,
which others, unburdened with family cares, avail themselves of.

The nearest relations of the octopus are the cuttle-fish and squids.
The former, Sepia officinalis, is best kno.wn as the animal which pro-
duces that fine black-coloring fluid known as sepia-ink, and for its use-
ful se^nostaii'e or internal shell, which is usually hung in the cages of
canary-birds.

Though the cuttle-fish resembles in its general structure its relative
the octopus, it varies in several particulars. Instead of eight arms, it
has ten, eight short and two long. Some persons have pronounced
them " beautiful " — in which opinion we cannot coincide ; but their
manners are decidedly more genial than those of the octopus. Instead
of lurking in semi-concealed caves or behind rocks, and springing upon
the unwary like a tiger from its jungle, the cuttle-fish comes out to
the light and gi\?es his intended victim a fair chance, having more the
habits of a bird of prey than its congener the devil-fish. It is, however,
very voracious, and fishermen have often cause to regret its proximity
to the fishing-grounds, as it will attack fish while entangled in the nets
and drag them out or bite and mutilate them. When attacked, its best
defense is the sepia-bag, from which it ejects the black fluid, thus dis-
coloring the water and escaping in the obscurity.

The eggs of the cuttle-fish are usually found attached to a branch
of sea-weed and very ingeniously hung by a perfect loop, each one
separately upon the twig, where together they somewhat resemble a
bunch of grapes. As soon as the young are released, they seek the
light and approach the surface of the water. The sepia is naturally
very shy, and at the slightest alarm shoots forth with wonderful rapidity
its foe-defying ink ; but in captivity its fears may be overcom.e by kind-
ness. It is not difficult to tame, and in time it appears to recognize and
appreciate its protector, ceasing to discolor the water when sufficient
familiarity has been established between them.

The eyes of the cuttle are so solid as to be almost calcareous, and
are divided by a groove in the centre ; these halves are nearly globose
at their outer surfaces, and reflect light with a " beautiful nacreous
opalescence and play of colors." In Italy they are made into beads for
necklaces. The cuttlp-bone when pounded is used as a polishing pow-
der by jewelers, under the name of " pounce." It is also manufactured
into a dentifrice, and sold under the name of " white coi'al-powder."
Artists still use the natural se^na to some extent.

The common squid {Loligo vulgaris) has the same number of arms
as the cuttle, but differs in form and some other particulars. The body
of the cuttle is of a broad oval shape, with no perceptible neck ; the
squid is nearly triangular in shape, and has two plainly defined necks,
one much smaller inserted within the other and projecting beyond it.

THE DEVIL-FISH AND ITS RELATIVES. 355

It has also very large eyes in proportion to its size. It is a free SAvim-
mer like the cuttle ; its spawn is also left to float freely, but in a large
circular mass, consisting of an immense number of branches, all con-
taining quantities of ova and united to a common centre. It has been
estimated that these " mop-like " masses contain nearly forty thousand
eggs. The squid is also privileged to carry an ink-bag, of which he makes
very free use ; and many fishermen attempting to catch them have ex-
perienced the fate of Tom Hood, of whom Mr. Lee tells the anecdote
that, being unaware of this propensity of the cuttle-fish and squid, and
having caught one of the former on his hook while angling in Love
Harbor, he laid hold of it to unhook it, and received its full Je^ d'eau in
the face. On being asked what he had on his line, he replied that he
did not know exactly, but he thought he had caught a young garden
engine !

As these sorts of creatures are never eaten in this country, it may
be news to some that they are very extensively used as food in many
countries at the present time, and that the ancient as well as the mod-
ern Greeks considered them a delicacy when properly cooked. One
cause of the favor in which they are held by the Orthodox Greek Cath-
olics on the shores of the -^gean Sea is the substitute which they oflFer
in place of meat and fish, both of which are forbidden during the long
fasts of the Greek Church. A cuttle is practically declared not to be
a fish, and certainly it is not meat ; and so it finds its way into the pots
and frying-pans even of the ecclesiastics during Lent and other fasts in
great quantities. A common way of catching them in the Mediterra-
nean is by planting traps of stone jars or earthenware tubes, into M'hich
they creep, and are thus drawn up and secured. Everywhere they are
used for bait, and the Indians of Vancouver's Island and Alaska eat them
with relish, as do the inhabitants of China and the western coast of
South America. There is a good story told of a party of savants in
England endeavoring to make a dish of one, at a special dinner given
for the purpose ; but the attempt was a complete failure — no one could
swallow a morsel. The ancients described them under the name of
polypus, and all classical scholars will recall the frequent references to
these animals as articles of diet, especially by the comic poets.

The greatest enemies to the class of cephalopods are the porpoises,
dolphins, and conger-eels. The last do not hesitate to attack ^ven a
devil-fish of considerable size, while the young are snapped up by a
great variety of fishes. In fact, if the great mass of all the spawn pro-
duced by the denizens of the ocean were not devoured or otherwise de-
stroyed, the watery world would long ago have become so over-popu-
lated as to be unnavigable, and its condition incompatible with the
health of the human race.

356 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

HEEEDITY.

By GEORGE ILES.

HAWTHORNE in his masterpiece, the " Scarlet Letter," makes
his heroine, Hester Prynne, a woman who has sinned, resolutely
refuse to tell the name of her partner in guilt when the Puritan in-
quisitors urge her to do so. The ministers of justice and vengeance
then turn to her child, and sharply scrutinize her features, to find if
possible some trace of her father's look, that the wrong done may be
punished. Here, too, they are unsuccessful — the face of the little elf
tells no story that they can read, gives them no clew in their task of
detection ; they are obliged to withdraw, baffled and surly. This inci-
dent in the greatest of American romances is true to experience ;
while the inheritance from parents of form and character is general,
yet it is not universal, and while some of the exceptions, when ex-
plained, afford very interesting studies of the play of natural forces,
too subtile to be noticed by simple inspection of their results, yet
many anomalies exist in heredity w^hich the science of to-day is quite
incompetent to explain.

The inheritance of the peculiarities of physical structure is a mat-
ter of daily and hourly observ-ation, and the minute fidelity of it is at
times very remarkable. Agassiz placed on record cases where traces
of surgical operations had been transmitted. Sometimes parent and
child are not only alike in form and feature, but even in tricks of tone
and gesture, handwriting and gait.

The predisposition to certain diseases, like gout or insanity, often
developed after maturity, is transmissible ; and also the liability to die
about a certain age. The famous Turgots, for more than a century,
rarely exceeded fifty years of age ; and insanity often appears after the
meridian of life in several successive generations of a family. The
remarkable faithfulness of reproduction in the majority of cases is a
fact somewhat parallel to the growth and maintenance of an organism,
Avherein, with the constant succession of cells each of brief existence,
substantial identity is kept up. There do not seem to be very marked
differences in babes, yet from the same food one will become a man of
muscle and energy, another of nerve and brain, a third a portly man
of ease-loving habits. All the original peculiarities of each tiny hu-
man nucleus pick out from a common nourishment elements like them-
selves, rejecting the rest.

Inheritance is not only physical, but inte'llectual as well ; great
ability in mathematics, painting, music, and other departments of
effort, has clearly been received at birth in many thousands of exam-
ples. The Bach family for two hundred years maintained exalted rank
in music. Tiie direct succession of very able men in the families of

HEREDITY.

357

Pitt, Napier, Fox, Herschel, Darwin, and many more, is evidence that
mind and will are as transmissible as complexion and stature. This
is more apparent in a country like England, where the institutions and
customs favor and confirm the results of heredity, than in America,
where there is no law of entail, and as yet little of the ambitious found-
ing of families.

There is abundant testimony to prove that heredity can be moral
as well as physical and intellectual. The Stuarts were as constant in
the presentation of certain moral traits as the family of the Churchills
or the American Adamses are in others. Imprudence, penuriousness,
dishonesty, or good judgment, once thoroughly established in a stock,
persists with quite as much tenacity as the familiar eyes or nose. The
inheritance by posterity of the changes wrought on individuals by
their experience is the basis of the modern explanation of the growth
of instinct and the evolution of human intelligence. Darwin has de-
veloped this theory in a masterly manner. He gives as an illustration
that between the finished skill of the honey-bee and the rude capabili-
ties of the humble-bee stand the intermediate powers of the Mexican
melipona. This last insect constructs a comb of wax, almost regular in
form, consisting of cylindrical cells, in which the larvae are hatched,
and a certain number of large cells to hold its store of honej'. The
latter cells are nearly spherical and situated at a considerable distance
from each other. Now, any slight variation of organization or instinct,
by which the melipona would construct its cells more uniformly and
compactly, would economize its wax and labor, and bring it up toward
the plane of the honey-bee. The generations of insects succeed each
other so rapidly that no modification can be detected among species
low in the scale. Honey-bees, however, are not possessed of unadapt-
able and rigid instincts, for ihey have been observed to spring arches
and buttresses in their hives to avoid glass rods purposely inserted.
An organism's advantage plainly lies in an increase of its skill and
ingenuity, and any slight advance made by individuals is preserved by
heredity, persists in tendencies and habit, and becomes fixed as in-
stinct.

The development of intelligence among mankind is accounted for
in the same manner : efforts at first painfully made by our ancestors
in new paths were at last rewarded by the facility that comes with
repetition ; their immediate descendants were born with new aptitudes
and an organization with a wider range of powers ; the acquisitions
thus gained and transmitted have grown into the varied faculties of
the men and women of to-day. " Mankind," Comte says, " is as one
man, always living and always learning." The passing away of one
generation and the birth of another do not interfere with the con-
stant progress of the race.

The method applied to the explication of the growth of instinct
and intelligence has been used by Darwin in approaching the problem

358 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the origin of the conscience from the side of natural history. He
deems it to have had its beginning- when an animal could contrast the
transient pleasui-e given by the gratification of a passion -with the
abiding pain afterward felt. An enlargement of memory must have
come before the immediate and remote effects of actions could be com-
pared in consciousness, and the greater good recognized and chosen.

This theory of conscience, which holds it to have been created by
the experiences of the race confirming habits best suited for social Hfe,
well accords with the theory of morals which takes benefit or utility,
in its largest sense, as the test and sanction of right conduct.

While the manifestations of heredity in their obvious effects are
interesting, yet the laws brought to light by an examination of some
results apparently exceptional and contradictory are of still .deeper in-
terest. A single great law may underlie a large group of problems,
yet many other principles of minor weight may cooperate with it and
obscure its direct force. The study of residual phenomena is ever
fraught with increased knowledge and the unfailing testimony that
where law seems to be at fault it is only so from our ignorance of
the varied energies at work, which are constantly revealed to the pa-
tient searcher for truth. In the science of heredity many apparent
anomalies have been resolved in allowing for the action of forces newly
discovered or applied.

The study of the unconscious powers of the mind has of late years
attracted much attention ; observation has found that there may lie
latent in a man tendencies and forces whose existence he may never
suspect, but which he is capable of transmitting to children who shall
palpably develop them. Insanity, gout, and melancholia, frequently skip
a generation and reappear when hopes have been entertained that the
evil trait had died out in the family. A son may resemble his mother
very markedly, and have children with the features and character of
his father. The evidence of heredity is thus borne out frequently in
the long-run, when to a contracted view it would seem at fault. An
individual inherits not only from his parents but from all their prede-
cessors in the line of life, and just what of them shall appear evidently
in him, and what be hidden in unconsciousness, none can tell. The
surface forces of the man may be like the momentum of a tree falhng
down a mountain-slope, but the inner and donnant powers never to be
manifested during a lifetime may as far transcend the energies actually
shown as the force of the fire which the tree may feed excels that of
its mere bodily impact in descent.

The dormancy of traits accounts for atavism or the reversion of an
organism to the form and character of ancestral stock. Pigeons, dogs,
and horses, frequently relapse, so to speak, to the inferior type from
which they have been bred, and so exhibit a wide divergence from their
immediate parents. Reversion of this kind has been noticed in the
silkworm after a hundred generations. So long in Nature does an

HEREDITY. 359

organism retain substantially the same form, that when art produces
a rapid modification of structure, or desires to seize upon a valuable
and marked variety, repeated and careful selection is required to give
it permanence.

The principle of atavism explains the curious resemblance often »
seen in a human family between uncle and nephew ; the likeness in
such cases is derived from some common ancestor, the grandfather most

usually.

Mr. Galton, in his work on " Hereditary Genius," adopts the sta-
tistical method to prove that illustrious men arise oftenest from fami-
lies displaying eminent talent, and have relatives approaching to them-
selves in ability in a degree proportioned to the nearness of kinship.
A man of genius is much more likely to have a remarkable father or
son, than a nephew or cousin. Great men, Galton says, seem to arise
like islands, isolated and unaccountable ; but this is an illusion — they ^
are given to us usually by parents unknown from the necessarily nar-
row limitations of fame ; islands are but the tops of hills whose whole
extent is hidden by obscuring ocean. Yet the exceptions to this rule
are very numerous : why should Cromwell, Milton, Goethe, and so many
others, leave behind them unworthy children ? Was it from unfortu-
nate mating with an inferior mother, or because the vitality, physical
and mental, was too much drawn upon by the individual life for worthy
continuation ? How can it be explained that men like Burns and
Faraday should come up from families in which even enthusiastic biog-
raphers can find nothing to distinguish them from their neighbors ?

The wide unlikeness frequently observed between parents and chil-
dren in talent and character suggests an analogy with a familiar fact in
chemistry. A compound's color, weight, and other properties, may be
changed almost bej^ond recognition by adding or eliminating a single
element. It is somewhat so in human nature ; a father of warm pas-
sions or strong acquisitive impulses may transmit all his traits to a son,
except prudence ; and the omission may cause much sympathy for a
reputable and worthy man's being afflicted with a boy so unlike him-
self. If the lack in inheritance be in perseverance and application,
of what value are splendid talents without them ?

A lens externally not to be distinguished from a perfect one may,
from some slight defect in composition or handling, give images blurred
and distorted, instead of true and beautiful. A chain is no stronger
than its weakest link, and a small lack or discordance in the elements
of character may exclude it from the exacting demands of high place.
We often hear regrets that men of genius so rarely have living de-
scendants, but we must not overrate the persistence of ordinar}'^ fami-
lies : taking the first eleven names of acquaintances that occurred to
me, I found that three of them were in a fair way of being the last of
their race ; every old person can recollect the dying out of many once
numerous families.

360 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

Ribot, the French authority on heredity, alleges two causes as
among the chief at work in cases where the law of transmission does
not obviously manifest itself. The first is the disproportion of an ini-
tiator}^ force to the amount of energy it may liberate or direct, as in
the slight agencies by which fires are lit or explosions set off. The
accidental surroundings of a mother before the birth of her child may
affect it for life in a way altogether disproportioned to the forces at
work. The military excitements in which Madame Bonaparte lived
just prior to Napoleon's birth are well known. Anxiety, grief, elation,
an unusual degree of physical health or debility at such times are pro-
ductive of very striking effects, quite capable of masking the likeness
between parent and child in form and disposition. The Greeks believed
so strongly in the potency of prenatal conditions that they not only
guarded mothers who were bearing with the kindest care, bvit used
even to surround them with beautiful works of art, that imagination
might act a favorable part.

The second cause which Ribot thinks often tends to obscure the
evidence of heredity is the transformation in development of charac-
teristics which are the same at root. Thus a consumptive father has a
son who suffers from rheumatism or paralysis. Here the transmission
has simply been that of a feeble constitution, which gives way in the
first circumstances of severe trial — those favoring rheumatism, paraly-
sis, or other disease. The crystal of life, to use Galton's figure, is dis-
turbed, and reposes on a new facet. In cases where talent appears con-
spicuously in a family, it may be that energy and patience, productive
of but ox'dinary results in a father, are directed by his son to supply-
ing some new public want, or filling 'a position created by some sudden
national emergency. The constructive powers of Stephenson were less
remarkable than his dogged perseverance ; and when the world needed
steam locomotion he was the man to give it, and surmount the immense
difficulties in the way. His strong will is not a rare trait of character,
but, joined to his ingenuity, it won him success in his great opportunit3\
Had Charles I. been a good king, Cromwell would probably have died
a brewer. Unbending will was also his chief characteristic, but at
Huntingdon it could have enjoyed but narrow play.

Readers of the Monthly may remember Galton's paper on " Twins,"
published in January, 1876. In that paper, based on wide and carefully-
made comparisons, it was proved that in the production of character
original constitution is a much more important factor than either edu-
cation or surroundings. The resemblance of twins when it occurs, as it
frequently does very strongly, continues through life in a large propor-
tion of cases. The same author has confirmed his opinion that Nature
is more powerful than nurture in moulding men, by collecting elaborate
testimony from all the illustrious Englishmen of science now living,
who say for the most part that their tastes were either innate or mani-
fested thems,elves very early under the influence of training, and in

HEREDITY. 361

some few cases were developed in antagonism to a particular kind of
education imparted to them.

Galton thinks that the natural differences among men are far wider
than commonly supposed : from a careful study of the statistics of
Cambrido-e examinations, he estimates that the capacity in mathemat-
ics of a senior wrangler is to the lowest in the scale of students taking
honors as three hundred to one. Similar results have been arrived at
by comparisons made in other branches of learning. From all this, it
would seem that the popular mind not only underrates the natural dif-
ferences of men, but also exaggerates the real limits of the improva-
bility of the masses of mankind. Education can only call out one's
powers, not bestow them where they are lacking ; and supreme minds
almost seem to be independent of education, or, at least, always able
to get all they need. The task of diffusing information is compara-
tively an easy one, but the absorption and vitalization of it in the
receiving minds is a matter quite beyond the teacher's skill. While
we should not expect too much from instruction, we may rightly expect
a great deal if it be wisely given ; and here it may be fitting to draw
attention to a danger in our modern schemes of education, very ably
pointed out by Johnson in his recent work on China. The increasing
uniformity in methods of instruction, while it may tend to the adoption
of the one best plan for an average scholar, has a disadvantage in
repressing individuality, and abolishing the many special kinds of teach-
ing for which some teachers are peculiarly fit, and by which some of
the best kinds of scholars, different from the average, are notably bene-
fited. The narrow line of a great circle is undoubtedly the shortest
path for a ship to take, but, if we would explore new seas and find new
truths, the sharply-defined curve of economic navigation must be de-
parted from ; and the more diverse the tracks of the ship-master, the
more of the deep waters of the unknown will he map out for us.

Instructors sometimes err in being too early in their work, as well
as too uniform in their methods ; so that matters of great moment lose
the bloom of novelty before the reason needed to grasp them matures.
One of the compensations for an education coming late in life by one's
ovvn effort or otherwise is, that the wonderfulness and suggestiveness
of truths come to the mind undampened by any early and useless famil-
iarity.

In the cause of education it is to be regretted that men of the
greatest natural endowments can so rarely describe their processes of
thought, or analyze their methods of arriving at results. The intuitive
perceptions derived from inheritance or long personal experience are
of coalescent quality, and are of too rapid awakening to be capable of
explanation and record in consciousness. The most original thinkers
are, therefore, seldom gifted with the teaching-talent ; just as orators
and statesmen are not often eminent as authorities in elocution or polit-
ical economy. Few of the ways and means of intellectual acumen can

362 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

be reduced to rule and definitely expressed, yet the error is perennial
of regarding logic as reason, and calculations, necessarily imperfect
from the extent and complexity of the forces at work, as sound judg-
ment.

The modern view that human intelligence is due to the experiences
of the race organized in the brain gives an explanation to a very inter-
esting group of facts. When the education of an individual is totally
unlike that received b}- his line of progenitors, it cannot take deep root
in his nature. Every conscientious Christian missionary laments the
difficulty of making a really deep impression on a pagan mind. The
momentum of ages cannot be changed in direction in a single- life, and,
if it could, the pledges of human jDrogress, which after all are based on
human permanence, would be done away. In the conflict between
inherited instincts and personally-acquired convictions, it is as if the
man were attempting to fight all his ancestry at once, and he is usually
worsted in the fray. Natural historians are familiar with the survival
in animals of habits once useful to them in the distant past, but in
their changed conditions no longer so. Some reptiles now living on
land possess the remnants of organs once used in their perfection by
their remote ancestry in aquatic life. In a somewhat parallel way, the
superstitions of our progenitors persist in many persons of undoubted
common-sense. Madame de Stael said, when asked if she believed in
ghosts, " No, but I am afraid of them." When we consider the great
problems of life and death in hours of calm reason, our reflections are
apt to take a direction very different from that along which our instinc-
tive feelings may impel us in seasons of pain and distress. It is a poor
apology for a crude theological belief that our instincts declare it to be
true, however much reason may contradict it. Instinct has no infalli-
bility : in the human mind it is simply the register of thoughts and
experiences during the long, primitive ages of our race ; and our own
opinions formed by personal accumulation since birth more probably
point toward truth, than the lines of feeling laid down in our fibres in
times of struggling intelligence and fierce strifes with natural powers,
awful and unknown. In the conflict between instinct and reason, it
would be strange indeed to contemn that reason which is only a better
instinct than we have now, in the making. The study of race-impulses
in an individual makes clear why it is that a man will do generous,
heroic deeds, from which it is impossible for him to derive advantage.
He acts as he does not from calculation, but from instinctive incite-
ments inherited from parentage of noble blood ; the line of race-bene-
fit may not always coincide with that of indi^'idual good, but the impe-
tus of ancestral forces transcends self-regard, and leaves the account of
debit and credit apparently unbalanced. Not only are human instincts
at times noble and heroic, but also, unfertunately more often, cruel
and destructive. When a war breaks out, or any great public dissen-
sion arises, how speedily can the thin plating of civilization be abraded

HEREDITY. 363

away, exposing tlie old barbarism of the under-nature ! The sanguinary
and destructive instincts of a people, once thoroughly let loose, can
overturn in a few days a social fabric painfully wrought by generations.
Of popular outbreaks of fury history has many terrible records, and
none more so than of those revolts against order which, as in the
French Revolution, had a core of justice in them. The natural diifer-
ences among men in ability are very marked ; much less so are their
different capabilities of enjoying the rewards of skill and power: hence
inevitably arise discontent and the ignoble spirit of envy ; any arti-
ficial increase of the gulfs drawn by Nature between one man and
another excites this discontent and envy by a conviction of injustice,
and endano-ers order. From these causes the artificial enrichment of
nobles and clergy by exemption from taxation has again and again
deluo-ed Europe with blood ; and the enormous accumulations of prop-
erty in private hands by bequest and increment have even in Amer-
ica excited concern. In considering this subject. Mill proposed that
there should be a moderate limit to the amount one might legally re-
ceive by gifts and bequests ; and the same thinker, and others of equal
eminence, have declared their conviction that land shall at some future
time, near or remote, be redistributed on some equitable plan.

The law of heredity has an important bearing, not onl}'- on questions
of education and property, but also on the problem as to the best treat-
ment of the criminal classes. Since the human character is so much
dependent on inheritance, and so indelibly impressed by depraved asso-
ciations in early life, it is thought that all incorrigible offenders, as
soon as their state can be proved, should in some right way, by impris-
onment or otherwise, be prevented from propagating their kind. Dr.
Duo-dale, of New York, followed the lines of descent from one Mar-
garet Jukes, through six generations, including in all seven hundred
and nine persons — thieves, prostitutes, murderers, and idiots. The
Chinese so firmly believe depravity to be a taint of blood, that a crimi-
nal's father and grandfather are sometimes required to perish with him ;
conversely, this nation of ancestor-worshipers deem a man so much
indebted to his parents for all that makes him great, that when a citi-
zen is ennobled for eminent services, titles are bestowed upon the as-
cending line of the family, and not the descending, as with us.

Important as the relations of the law of heredity may be in the
various topics adverted to in this paper, none can be so much so as the
comprehension of the law, and obedience to it in marriage. The lower
animals are carefully bred, while men and women mate with rarely any
rational reflection as to their fitness for each other, thus often entailing
upon themselves and their offspring woes unspeakable. The plain sense
which should forbid the consumptive, syphilitic, or scrofulous, from
marrying is disregarded, and the results are terrible. When one's con-
stitution is impaired by some not serious organic ailment, special pains
should be taken to avoid the like in selecting a partner for life. Physi-

364 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

ologists deem consanguineous unions to result as badly as they often
do from the parents inheriting from their one common stock similar
weaknesses which unite in their children to form a lower deep of organ-
ic deficiency. With very good constitutions, men have been known to
marry their sisters with impunity, as some of the Ptolemies did ; but,
when the stock of the Egyptian monarchs declined in soundness, their
close intermarriages resulted in a rapid and frightful degeneracv.

"Where there is no blood relationship between parents, they some-
times produce booby children, from having a too close temperamental
similarity. The most trustworthy authorities on this subject say that
in marriage a moderate difference between the constitutions and char-
acters of the parties, and complementary rather than antagonistic, is
best. A. noteworthy consideration in selecting a wife is, that as a
mother has much more influence on a child's character than a father, if
she has any marked bad trait, as a violent temper, laziness, or vanit}',
and if that trait be transmitted to her offspring, then the child will be
brought up by a woman the least fit of her sex to recognize the child's
faults, and eradicate them as far as possible by proper training. In the
rearing of young children, close associations have great influence. A
professor of McGill University assures me that the infants of his family
acquire a resemblance to their nurse in expression, which only disap-
pears when they are removed from her.

A happy and hopeful marriage may be marred in its results from
procreation taking place while sickness, anxiety, or grief, has lowered
vitality ; and the too frequent bearing of children is very seriously det-
rimental to both mother and progeny.

W^hen a parent transmits a malady, carefulness in living can fre-
quently prevent its development ; but when disease or predisposition to
it is acquired from a parent together with the carelessness or self-
indulgence of character which originally induced the disease, then the
taint of blood is confirmed and increased. Many perso«s of w-eak frame
prolong life to old age by prudence and abstemiousness, whereas the
conscious possession of a vigorous constitution is a constant tempta-
tion to abuses of it. Length of days depends less upon the quantity of
vital energy received at birth, than on the jealous care of health and
strength.

In these matters, as in all others, we not only need to know much,
but to know it so long that we shall act upon our knowledge. The
discrepancy between the intellectual acceptance of truth and moral
obedience to it is wide as the gap between Ideal and Real.

THE PHYSICAL FUNCTIONS OF LEAVES. 365

THE PHYSICAL FUXCTIOXS OF LEAVES.

AN elaborate study on the above subject has lately been published
by Prof. J. Boussingault, of Paris, in the " Annales de Chimie et
de Physique " (vol. xiii., pp. 289-394), in which the phenomena of ab-
sorption and transpiration by leaves are treated at great length. Since
the memorable experiments of Hales in 1727, recounted in his work on
" Vegetable Statics," this branch of vegetable physiology has been
rarely touched, and the carefully recorded observations of Boussingault,
carried out with the best of modern scientific appliances, possess an un-
usual value.

The first point studied was the loss of water by transpiration from
the leaves of plants under normal circumstances. For this purpose a
healthy Jerusalem artichoke [Helianthus tuherosus) in a roomy flower-
pot wa's chosen. The top of the pot was covered with a sheet of India-
rubber, tightly inclosing the stem of the plant, and provided with an
opening for the admission of water. The whole was then weighed, and
the loss noted which ensued under various circumstances, by evapora-
tion of water from the leaves, the plant receiving during the experiment
weighed normal amounts of water. The total surface of the leaves of
the plant (both upper and lower sides) was carefully estimated, and the
result reckoned on the square metre. The averages oL fourteen experi-
ments showed that the artichoke lost hourly, for every square metre of
foliage, the following amounts of water : in the sunshine sixty-five
grammes, in the shade eight grammes, during the night three grammes.

In the next place the question was investigated whether the absorp-
tion of water by plants and the ascent of the sap are due to the force
resulting from the transpiration on the surface of the leaves, or whether
the roots exercise also a certain amount of force to this end. For this
purpose experiments similar to the above were carried out with various
plants, firstly under normal circumstances, secondly with the stem minus
the roots immersed in water. As an instance we can take mint. The
plant with roots showed an hourly evaporation per metre of eighty-
two grammes in the sunshine and thirty-six in the shade. Under the
same condition without roots, the evaporation Avas sixteen and fifteen
grammes respectively.

The results show that the absorption of water by plants is deter-
mined in a great measure by the transpiration occurring in the leaves,
that this is maintained for a certain length of time without the assist-
ance of the roots, but cannot continue long, being dependent on the
injective power possessed by the roots. The efi'ect of pressure on the
absorption was next examined, and it was found possible by this means
for a time in certain cases to even more than replace the water lost by
transpiration. For example : a chestnut-branch dipped in water was

366

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

found to transpire hourly per metre of foliage sixteen grammes. It
was then inserted into a tube of water, and subjected to the pressure
of a column of water two and a half metres high. Under these con-
ditions the evaporation mounted to fifty-five grammes per hour, and the
branch at the end of five hours weighed more than at the commence-
ment.

The general result of these experiments shows the mutual working
of the various parts of the plant with reference to the phenomena of
transpiration. The roots, absorbing water from the soil by endosmose,
direct it toward the stem. Whether the motive force here is injection
by the roots or absorption resulting from the transpiration in the green
parts of the plant, or a union of both, is a question still unsettled. The

Fig. 1.

Fio. 2.

stem serves not only as a passage for the water to reach the leaves, but
also as a reservoir to be drawn on during rapid evaporation. In the
leaves the sap is concentrated by the transpiration, and the matters in
solution enter into the cell formation, or, changed by the action of light,
are distributed throughout the plant by the descending sap. The cir-
culation would be quite similar to that in an animal, were it not for the
irregularity. While the supply of water from the roots varies but
slightly, the loss by evaporation from the leaves is subject to the great-
est fluctuations, according to the temperature and hygroscopic condi-
tion of the surrounding air. During these periods the leaves draw on
their stock of constitution water and the supply in the stem ; and when
both fail, the phenomenon of wilting ensues.

THE PHYSICAL FUNCTIONS OF LEAVES. 367

Numerous experiments were made on the difference in evajjoratioii
during the day and during the night. Those carried out with leaves
of the grapevine gave the following hourly averages per square metre
of foliage : in sunshine, thirty-five grammes ; in shade, eleven ; during
the night, 0.5. The trellis on which the vine was trained was one metre
high and thirty-eight metres long, and presented a surface of one hun-
dred and thirty-eight square metres of foliage. In sunny weather this
would lose by evaporation, in the course of twenty-four hours, forty-
eight kilogrammes of water, and nearly half of that amount during
cloudy weather. To give an idea of the enormous amount of aqueous
vapor dissipated by plants in the sunshine, calculation showed that an
acre of beets could lose in the course of twenty-four hours between
8,000 and 9,000 kilogrammes. Another experiment made with a chest-
nut-tree thirty-five years old showed that it lost over sixty litres of
water in the course of twenty-four hours. The structure of the leaf,
however, containing seventy to eighty per cent, of water, and possessing
a thickness frequently of but one-tenth of a millimetre, would suggest
the question why the evaporation is not much more rapid. The answer
to this is found in the peculiar structure of the tissue forming the epi-
dermis, designed especially to moderate the transpiration. In order to
see the remarkable retentive powder exercised by this epidennis, one
can expose for a few hours to the sun two cactus-leaves of the same su-
perficies, one of which has been deprived of its epidermis. The evap-
oration in the latter case will be about fifteen times as rapid as in the
other. It is the presence of a similar tissue forming the skin of fruits
which prevents an otherwise rapid evaporation. For instance, an apple
deprived of its skin loses fifty-five times as much water as a whole spe-
cimen in the same time. Losses by rapid evaporation lessen notably
the physiological energy of leaves. Thus an oleander-leaf containing
sixty per cent, of water, when introduced into an atmosphere containing
carbonic acid, decomposed sixteen centimetres of this gas ; one con-
taining thirty -six per cent, decomposed eleven centimetres ; and one
containing but twenty-nine per cent, was without action.

A series of observations was made on the relative powers of eva2D-
oration on the upper and lower sides of leaves. They consisted in
plucking two leaves of the same kind at the same moment, covering on
the one the upper, oil the other the lower side with melted tallow, and
then noticing the loss of weight by evaporation in a given time. The
average of the results showed that the proportion between the amounts
of water evaporated on the upper and lower side of a dozen varieties of
leaves was 1 : 4.3. In all cases the amount evaporated from the two
exposed sides of two equal leaves was greater than from the entire sur-
face of a similar leaf under the same circumstances.

A point of no small interest with regard to the physical function of
leaves is that of their ability to replace the roots of a plant in serving
as the agent of absorption. A variety of tests were undertaken to set-

368

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tie this question ; among them the following : A forked branch of lilac
(Fig. 1) was so disposed that the one branch was immersed in water,
while the other was exposed to the ordinary atmospheric conditions.
The superficies of foliage was the same on both branches. The transpi-
ration from the surface of the leaves on the latter branch was the same
as under normal circumstances, and after the lapse of two weeks the
foHage was as fresh as at the commencement, showing that the sub-
merged leaves were fully able to replace the roots in one of their func-
tions. In an experiment with a beet in which one-half of the leaves
were in water and one-half in the air, communication being maintained
by means of the root, the free portion of the leaves Avilted in the course
of a day, the neck of the root apparently not offering a sufficient means
of communication with the submerged leaves A grapevine shoot half
plunged in water (Fig. 2) maintained a normal evaporation in the free
foliage, and remained fresh for over a month. An oleander shoot under
similar conditions maintained its normal appearance for four months.
With the artichoke it was found necessary that the surface of the leaves
beneath the water should be four times that of the leaves above.

Closely bordering on this question is another which has excited
much dispute, viz., the ability of leaves to draw water from the sur-
rounding air or by immersion, after having suffered losses by transpira-
tion. Prof. Boussingault's numerous experiments show that leaves,
after having been exposed to influences causing a rapid evaporation,
are able to absorb water rapidly on immersion, and even from an atmos-
phere saturated with aqueous vapor. There is, however, in both cases
no absorption unless the leaves have lost a portion of their water of
constitution, i. e., that which is essential to their normal existence.
Thus, a wilted branch of periwinkle weighing 4 grammes, after re-
maining in an atmosphere saturated with aqueous vapor for a day and
a half, weighed 4'2 grammes, and after twelve hours' immersion in
water 9'4 grammes.

Fig. 3.-4, drop of solution ; B, watch-glass.

The last function of leaves studied by Prof. Boussingault is their
ability to absorb solutions of mineral matter, i. e., perform another of
the ordinary duties of the roots. For this purpose a solution of gypsum
containing ^ q-„ q- of solid matter was used. Drops of this solution were
placed on the leaves of a great variety of plants — under conditions fa-
voring absorption, as in the experiments just described — and protected

CURARI OR WOORARA POISON. 369

from evaporation by superincumbent watch-glasses with greased edges
(Fig. 3).

In most instances the drops were absorbed entirely, leaving no
traces of the mineral matter ; in some cases a slight residue was left,
which the addition of a minute quantity of water caused to disappear.
As in the case of pure water, the -under side of the leaves absorbed
much more rapidly than the upper side. Solutions of sulphate and
nitrate of potassium gave quite similar results ; the absorption of solu-
tions of chloride of sodium and nitrate of ammonium was not so per-
fect. These results would tend to show that the foliage of a plant is
able to supply it with perhaps no small portion of its saline constituents
by means of the ammoniacal salts formed in the air, and the alkaline
and earthy salts suspended there which are deposited on the surface of
the leaves by rain and dew. — Nature.

-♦♦♦-

CUEAKI OE WOOEAEA POISOJ^.'

Br MAURICE GIRAED.

IT is almost three centuries since Sir Walter Raleigh, after the dis-
covery of Guiana, brought to Europe some arrows poisoned with a
substance called by him curari. This poison was then in general use
among the tribes inhabiting the Atlantic slope of South America.
To-day we must penetrate into the depths of the forests to find the
remnants of the ancient populations who possess the recipe for prepar-
ing curari. It may safely be affirmed that by next century it will have
disappeared, either through the annihilation of these races, who are
vanishing before the whites, or blending with them by intermarriage,
or, above all, because firearms, obtained by way of barter from Euro-
pean traders, are steadily superseding the ancient implements of war
and of the chase.

The arrow-poison is usually prepared from a substance often called
veneno by the Spanish-Americans, and which occasionally happens to
be brought to Europe under the name of curari. This substance,
which the natives carry about in little earthenware pots or in cala-
bashes, is a black, solid extract, with glistening fracture, in appearance
very much like the black, inspissated juice of licorice. The active
principle of curari is soluble in water, alcohol, blood, and all animal
fluids ; it is mixed with many impurities, which remain suspended in
the solution, and among which the microscope detects vegetable de^
bris, cells, and fibres. Ether and spirits of turpentine precipitate the
curari poison, and in this way Messrs. Boussingault and Roulin have
been able to isolate the active principle of curari, which they call cu-

' Translated from La Nature by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.
VOL. XIV. — 24

370 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rarin. Its chemical constitution is not yet made out ; it is not crystal-
lizable, has the look of horn, is very hygroscopic, and easily soluble in
water and iu alcohol. The watery solution is not affected by boiling,
and appears to preserve its toxic property for an indefinite time, pre-
cisely like the dried curari on the tips of arrows, a circumstance which
renders these weapons very dangerous objects to handle.

Curari is prepared at long intervals by the natives of South America,
whenever the supply, which is divided between the hunters and the
warriors, has become exhausted. The mode of preparation differs
according to locaUty, but these differences are not essential. The in-
gredients are everywhere either the same or at least analogous, for the
curaris manufactured in different regions amid the almost unexplored
forests of Guiana and Brazil always present the same toxic properties.
Sometimes curari is prepared openly and without mystery on some
high festival of the tribe, with the usual accompaniment of copious
libations of strong drink. And, by-the-way, it has been remarked by
Humboldt that during a festival it is a rare thing to find a native that
is not intoxicated, drunkenness being unfortunate!}', in all latitudes, the
habitual expression of gladness among the ruder classes of mankind.

At other times the arrow-poison is prepared only by the medicine-
men, who hedge its preparation around with superstitious practices
and mystic ceremonies, designed to enhance their own prestige and
influence. The exaggerated reports of travelers have still further
complicated the matter, as when we are assured that in the prepara-
tion of the curari some old hag of the tribe shuts herself up in a but
with the kettle in which the poisonous ingredients are boiled, and that,
if the process is successful, she herself dies by inhaling their noxious
emanations. This is a fable, for curari is not volatile.

It has also been stated that, when the curari begins to thicken, the
natives throw into the pot ants with venomous stings, and the fangs
and poison-glands of the most deadly serpents, such as the rattlesnake.
Possibly these accessories may have sometimes been employed, but we
now know that they are not essential, and that excellent curaris are
prepared solely from vegetal substances. According to Goudot, the
tribes living on the New Granada frontier cut down in the woods cer-
tain climbing plants of the genus Strychnos^ from which exudes at
the cuts a quantity of acrid sap. The wood is crushed and macer-
ated in water for forty-eight hours ; it is then pressed, and the liquid
is carefully filtered. After filtration it is slowly evaporated, till it
reaches the required degree of concentration. It is now distributed
among a number of little earthenware pots, which are placed on hot
embers, and the process of evaporation is carried on with still greater
care, till the poison acquires the consistence of a soft paste and is per-
fectly free from water.

Dr. Jobert is now engaged in studying in their native habitat the
properties of the various plants which are known to have been em-

CUE ART OR WOOEAEA POISON. 371

ployed in the preparation of curari, and he has had prepared under his
own supervision, entirely from vegetal substances, one of the best of
American curaris, that of the Tecuna Indians living' on the Calderao,
Brazil, near the Peruvian border. Some fine scrapings of Urari uva^
a climbing plant of the genus Strychnos, and of the Eko or Pani, of
the family Menispermacem, also a climber, were steeped in cold water.
This liquid was then boiled for six hours, and there were thrown into
it fragments of various plants, among them an Aroiclea (Taja), and
three different species of Piperacece. In this way the liquid was made
to assume the consistency of mucilage ; it was then suiFered to cool,
and became as thick as shoe-blacking. Dr. Jobert has found by ex-
periment that the Urari and the Taja are the most rapidly fatal in
their effects of all the ingredients, and that the Pani, administered by
itself, is less rapid.

The Indians use curari to poison their arrows both for hunting and
for war. The hunting-arrows, intended to be shot from a bow, have a
detachable point ; those shot from the sarbacand or blow-gun are very
small, and consist of a slender shaft of iron-wood with a very sharp
point, which bears the poison. Sometimes the poison is used highly
diluted or in very small quantity, so as to produce in the victim simply
a numbness, which passes away by degrees, but which in the mean time
checks the animal in its course or in its flight, or causes it to fall from
tho tree in which it may happen to be. It is thus, we are told, that
tho Indians capture monkeys and parrots for sale to the European
traders. Often the animal is killed by the arrow, but nevertheless its
flesh may be eaten with impunity, for the very minute dose of the
curari which enters the stomach with a mass of food is innocuous.
Indeed, we know that curari, like the venom of serpents and the saliva
of a rabid dog, may be introduced without injury into the digestive
organs, provided the mucous surfaces of the latter are free from all
lesion.

Curari has been mixed with the food given to dogs and rabbits in
quantity far more than enough to produce fatal poisoning through a
wound, and yet the animals have suffered no inconvenience.

Claude Bernard, however, has very clearly shown that this innocu-
ousness of curari when administered through the stomach is relative
only. In this respect curari resembles many other substances, both
medicines and poisons. The peculiarity of their action is explained by
the property which amorphous substances possess of being very slowly
absorbed by the mucous membranes. By young mammals and birds
while fasting, and while intestinal absorption is very active, curari
cannot be taken into the stomach with impunity. We can only say
that it takes a much larger quantity of curari to produce poisoning
through the digestive organs than through an external wound.

Curari introduced into living tissues produces death all the sooner
the more quickly it enters the circulation. Death comes quicker when

372 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a solution of curari is injected under the skin than when the dry poison
is introduced by the point of an arrow. Vigorous animals with rapid
circulation of blood are more easily poisoned than those which are
weakly ; and with an equal dose of poison and with animals of equal
size, those whose temperature is constant die more quickly than those
whose temperature is variable (reptiles, batrachians, fishes), and, among
the former, birds succumb more quickly than mammals.

The animal at first does not feel the wound, for curari possesses no
caustic property. In the case of very small animals death is almost
instantaneous. In birds and mammals of a large size, and in all ani-
mals of variable temperature, death usually occurs in from five to twelve
minutes, if there is an excess of the poison. The animal lies down as
though it would sleep, keeping the eyes open, with a placid expression.
Soon it is seized with a progressive paralysis of the motor nerves, pro-
ceeding from the extremities to the centre. The muscles of respiratory
movement are the last to succumb, and the animal dies from asphyxia.

To all appearance, nothing could be calmer than this progressive
state of stupor ; there is no agitation, no expression of sufi"ering. The
mouth remains shut, without foam or saliva. Life seems to be extin-
guished slowly, like some liquid that gradually flows away. In view
of these treacherous symptoms, a member of the Society for the Pre-
vention of Cruelty to Animals might be tempted to urge the use of
curari in lieu of the brutal modes at present in vogue for slaughtering
old, worn-out horses.

To Claude Bernard science is indebted for the exact determination
of the specific action of curari. Vital activity presents a threefold
series of distinct and coordinated organic elements, which play the
part of excitants of one another. The starting-point of physiological
action is the sensitive nerve-element. Its vibration is transmitted
along its axis, and on reaching the nerve-cell — a regular relay — the
sensory vibration is transformed into a motor vibration. This lat-
ter, in turn, is propagated through the motor nerve-element, and on
reaching its peripheric extremity causes the fibre of the muscle to
vibrate, and this, reacting in virtue of its essential property, produces
contraction, and consequently motion.

Now, each of the three elements, sensory, motor, and muscular, lives
and dies after a fashion of its own, and there are poisons proper to
each. But, inasmuch as vital manifestations require the cooperation
of these three activities, if one be suppressed, the other two continue
to live indeed, but they no longer mean anything, just as a phrase loses
its meaning if one of its members be dropped out. Claude Bernard's
experiments have proved that the motor nerve-element alone is affected
by curari, and that the other two organic elements of the animal retain
their physiological properties. Tlie mind is not destroyed, the muscu-
lar fibre still has the power of contraction, and indeed does contract
under the influence of electric discharges. Motor power alone is de-

MOLECULAR DYNAMICS. 373

stroyed ; if the characteristic manifestations of life have disappeared,
it is not because they are really extinguished, but because they have
been one after another turned back by the paralyzing action of the
poison. In that motionless body, back of that lack-lustre eye, with all
these semblances of death, sensibility and mind still persist intact ;
what looks to be a dead carcass hears and knows all that goes on
around it ; it feels pain when its body is pinched or burned; it still
has feelinsr and will, but it has lost the instrument needed for mani-
festing them. The movements which are most expressive are the ear-
liest to disappear — first voice, then the movements of the limbs, those
of the face and the thorax, and lastly the movements of the eyes.

Is it possible to conceive a more dreadful torture than that endured
by a mind which thus witnesses the privation of its organs one after
another, and shut up, as it were, in the fullness of life within a corpse?

MOLECULAE DYNAMICS.

By L. E. CUETISS.

DYNAMICS refers to force or power. It deals with the primary
conceptions of energy in its relations to subjects that are suscep-
tible of numerical estimation, such as time, space, and velocity. Or,
again, dynamics is that branch of science which measures the energies
producing motion as Avell as those produced by motion, and is divided
into two parts — kinematics, which pertains to motion without regard to
the bodies acted upon ; and kinetics, which refers to the cause of ener-
gies whereby motion is given to bodies, each of which is the antithesis
of static energy or energy at rest. Molecular dj^namics has for its
domain the actual working forces inherent in the atoms and molecules
of matter. This branch of the subject bears the same relation to phys-
ics as the differential calculus does to mathematics, and by thus dealing
with the physical molecules and atoms we are enabled to extend the
kinetic chain of causation down toward the infinitely small with a cer-
tainty almost parallel to the accuracy with which the integral calculus
defines the motion of the planets.

The text-books teach us that one of the properties of matter is iner-
tia, including both that of rest and that of motion, the former being
defined as the passive condition of bodies Avhen at rest. This definition
refers to matter as a mass. The new philosophy, however, teaches
that, since molecular motion refers to the invisible movements of the
particles of the mass, there is no such thing as complete rest of the
ultimate particles of matter short of absolute zero of temperature, which,
if universal, means total frigidity of every sun and orb in the universe.

The current of scientific thought tends to demonstrate that all the

374 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

phenomena of Nature are to be regarded merely as varieties of motion,
one guiding principle of which is conservation of energy. This being
an established fact in science, it fortifies us in our position of reasoning
downward in the direction of primary causes. By conservation of ener-
gy we are to understand that, while matter exists throughout the uni-
verse in definite quantity, there is also existing, as an attribute of mat-
ter, a definite amount of energy or force ; and just so sure as matter is
indestructible and ^^?^changeable, just so sure is force or energy inde-
structible and inter ch.a,ngeah\Q. That is, matter and force are both
indestructible, but force or energy (synonymous terms) is convertible
into the several modes of force. The attributes of matter are attrac-
tion of gravitation, attraction of cohesion, and chemical affinity. At-
traction of gravitation is a force exerted upon each and every atom
of matter throughout the universe, with a never-ending geometric ratio,
varying directly as the mass and inversely as the square of the distance.
The force known as chemical affinity binds the integral particles of
compounds in an embrace many millions of times stronger than that of
gravitation, but, like cohesive attraction, is incompetent to exert its
power beyond very short distances, such as those measured by the
limits of the molecule.

The correlation of physical forces has for its domain the interchange-
ableness and universality of the forces of Nature. It is competent to
solve the dynamical problems of vital and physical phenomena, demand-
ing from every antecedent its consequent, and exacting from every
consequent an equivalency of antecedent. All sound experience of
whatever kind justifies this affirmation. These views compel the idea
of the universality of motion, and that force is the eternal causation of
each and every phenomenon, and that the existing relations between
matter and force remain constant throughout the universe. The same
forces that whirl suns and planets in a restless march through shoreless
space measure the phenomena of the moments of life.

The different consequents of molecular motion are sound, light,
heat, etc., the antecedents of them all being some mode of motion.
By the term " mode of motion " is meant the manner in which ener-
gies are made sensible to our understanding. Thus, the terms heat,
light, etc., are but familiar ones by which we express the various modes
in which force is exhibited to our senses in its action upon matter.
Conservation of energy was denominated by Faraday as " the highest
law in physical science which our faculties permit us to perceive." Its
unfoldings mark an intellectual epoch which divides the old from the
new. It teaches of the unity of the universe ; it tells us how the
sun's rays constitute the mighty energies of daily life and action upon
every hand, warming, illuminating, and vivifying the surface of the globe.
As an illustration of this interchangeableness of force : suppose two
files of men to be arranged in proper order, between which we roll a
cannon-ball with a certain initial velocity. This ball runs the gantlet

MOLECULAR DYNAMICS. 375

of those files of men, it being the individual duty of each man to re-
tard the momentum of the* ball by interposing his hand in its path. It
is evident that each hand so interposed will receive a shock, the force
of which is just equivalent to the amount parted with by the ball itself.
Finally, the ball comes to rest. The original momentum of the ball has
for its equivalency the sum total of the lesser energies imparted to the
several hands interposed. Or again, if, instead of hands interposed, we
substitute a row of smaller balls, and let them receive the impact of
the moving one, the result will be just the same. Each and every ball
interposed will have the motion of its constituent particles augmented
by an amount of energy of motion exactly equivalent to that parted
with by the larger ball ; and, when the moving ball finally comes to
rest, the sum total of molecular energies in the interior of each ball is
exactly equal to the original momentum of the larger ball. Thus we
have an illustration of the transference of molar into molecular motion,
the molecular motion making its appearance as heat, one of the modes
of force. If you push endwise against a stick of wood, the force ap-
plied will immediately appear at the other end. This is transmission
of force by means of molecular action. The force being applied to one
end of the bar is transmitted from particle to particle with great veloci-
ty its entire length. If a row of bricks be properly placed, any force
applied to the first of the row, sufficient to topple it against the next,
will be transmitted throughout from the first to the last of the series.
Or again, if the bar of wood be pushed against one end of our imagi-
nary row of bricks, we shall have in the rod and in the falling bricks a
continuous chain of similar phenomena, the action of the bricks being
a visible illustration of the transmission of force, and highly analogous
to that invisible transmission along the molecules of the bar.

Apart from the difi"erent modes of force, we have energy in two
forms — static or potential, and actual or dynamic. The potential has
been likened to a weight wound up, and the actual to a weight in the
act of falling. The amount of energy expended in winding up the
weight, less the friction, is exactly equivalent to the potential energy
of the weight so raised, also to the dynamic energy given out by its
falling or running down. The inherent measure of force possessed by
each and every atom is its kinetic energy, and this energy is the cor-
relative and antecedent of all the modes of force which characterize
the various phenomena of the visible universe. The condition in which
matter presents itself to our senses depends upon the degree in which
these several forces are made manifest. All the phenomena of Nature
consist in transformations of energy only, the working force of the uni-
verse being previously invested in the kinetic energy of its atoms.

The potential energies of the atoms of matter, in their free condi-
tion, are almost beyond human comprehension. Thus, heat a pound of
charcoal to the point of incandescence. The vibratory motion of the
atoms of carbon will then have reached an amazing velocity ; oxygen

376 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rushes in to form new compounds; the oxygen-atom, by its impact upon
the coal, has its motion of translation converted into vibratory motion,
which immediately appears as heat. The clash of these atoms makes
up the sum total of the energies of the combustion. The actual amount
of dynamical energy set free by the union of this pound of charcoal
with atmospheric oxygen is equivalent to the mechanical raising of
eleven and a quarter million pounds one foot high. Let us further con-
sider the dynamical forces inherent in the molecules of free gases, and
look to a molecular explanation of the three states of matter, the solid,
fluid, and gaseous. In solids the atoms are held together with a rigid-
ity that develops the full strength of cohesive force. In liquids the
same attraction is so far lessened that a definite form can only be pre-
served in a limited degree, as in drops of water maintaining a spheroidal,
shape against the force of gravity. In the gaseous form atoms do not
cohere, the cohesive force having been translated into the energy of
motion, and it is this energy of motion which constitutes the expansive
force of confined gases.

Suppose we have a vessel containing eight pounds of oxygen and one
pound of hydrogen. This mechanical mixture of gases, invisible though
it be, and harmless as it appears, is the theatre of energies wholly beyond
our conceptions. Figure to your imagination these gases made up of
atoms so small that a billion times a billion would scarcel}'^ fill a cubic
inch, and all these atoms vibrating among themselves without actual
contact. Although the minute distances over which these atoms travel
are utterly immeasurable by direct appliances, we shall presently see that
the energies evolved by the clash of their chemical union is something
prodigious. The concussion of atoms at the union of eight pounds of
oxygen with one pound of hydrogen sets free an amount of energy, in
the form of heat, equivalent in mechanical value to 47,246,400 pounds
let fall one foot, or the crash of a ton's weight as an avalanche down a
precipice of 23,623 feet.

The three states of matter have been likened to three planes, of
which the gaseous is the uppermost, the fluid occupying the interme-
diate plane, and the solid state for the lower one. The clash of atoms
at the union of the two gases has resulted in the liberation of the ener-
gy above mentioned, but a change of state has taken place, and we now
have water in the vaporous condition occujDying the intermediate plane.
This nine pounds of steam in condensing to water sets free an energy, the
mechanical equivalent of 6,722,000 pounds let fall through the space of
one foot. The next change takes us past the reduction of the temper-
ature of the water from the boiling to the freezing point, setting free
both the specific and latent heat of the water. This final fall to the
plane of congelation occasions a further dissipation of energy equiva-
lent to 2,237,256 foot-pounds, making a grand total of 56,000,000 foot-
pounds as the measure of energy in our nine pounds of invisible gas.

The verity of these statements might be questioned were it not that

MOLECULAR DYNAMICS. 377

the most refined researclies give unvarying results. Suppose we reverse
this experiment, and, commencing with nine pounds of ice, we will, by a
process of mental abstraction, again bring our conceptions down to the
immeasurably small, and fix our attention upon the molecules of the ice.
Figure to yourself the atoms of each molecule as being in oscillation
through points of equilibrium. And, while your attention is centred
upon the motions taking place in the interior of the mass, we will let
fall upon the block of ice a concentrated beam of sunlight, and see
how it deals with the inherent forces of cohesion and chemical affinity.
The solar undulations impinge upon the molecules of the ice, and,
under this bombardment of heat waves, see how rapidly the atoms
accelerate their motions ! All this wliile the contest is going on be-
tween the dynamic energy of the sun's waves of heat and the cohesive
force of the molecules. Beautifully and symmetrically the forces of
Nature built up the crystalline mass, and as silently and surely the
sun's competency of heat Avill effect its liquefaction. Thus far we have
seen the atoms accelerating in velocity by virtue of the energy imparted
by the solar-heat waves, and all this time they are vibrating within the
definite limits of the molecule. A further increase of heat will increase
the motion of the atoms, thus tending to a rupture of the bonds of
cohesive attraction. The struggle goes on until the ice melts, by which
process we have solar energy conserved in the latent heat of water.
The molecules being thrown almost beyond the range of cohesive
force, their movements are no longer confined to their former limits,
but may extend throughout the length and breadth of the mass. This is
the fluid state. The amount of energy required to swing the atoms
so nearly beyond the range of cohesive attraction, or simply to melt
the ice, is equal to 500 tons raised one foot high. This force still
exists as transmuted energy, and is the latent heat of water. A fur-
ther addition of heat takes the form of increased vibratory action up
to the boiling-point. Then comes another struggle seven times greater
than the first. This last remnant of cohesive force of water must; be
surrendered, and the heat-energy necessary to perform the act is con-
served or transmuted into the latent heat of steam. The last vestige
of cohesive force now being gone, the molecules of steam are free to
oscillate in all directions, and impinge against the walls of the contain-
ing vessel. If we continue the application of heat to the point of dis-
sociation, the molecules of vapor will have acquired a momentum suffi-
cient to rupture the bonds of chemical affinity. And here the energy
required to separate the molecules of steam into its constituent atoms
of oxygen and hydrogen is simply prodigious, being about forty-eight
times as much as was necessary for the process of liquefaction. Thus
the aggregated energies required to set free the oxygen and hydrogen
in our nine pounds of ice are equivalent to the raising of a ton's weight
28,000 feet, and we now have the original nine pounds of gas, laden
with the potential energies of 56,000,000 foot-pounds, which is just

378 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

equivalent to the requisite liberation of force necessary to reduce the
gases back again to the solid form of ice. A cubic foot of water yields
1,862 cubic feet of the separate gases when at normal condition, and
no human device is competent to overcome this expansion by pressure
sufficient to reduce them back again to the liquid condition. Upon the
evidence of Faraday we have it that " the decomposition of a single
drop of water by electricity calls for an expenditure of more electromo-
tive force than would suffice to charge a thunder-cloud."

Our main source of dynamic energy is from the sun. His energy is
exhibited in every wind that blows, in every shower that falls, and in
the history of every snow-flake — in the glare of gaslights, in the heat
of the furnace, in the colors of the rainbow, and in the gorgeous sun-
set, in the beauty of vegetation and its silent growth. Thus, in an
almost infinite variety of physical phenomena we see this transmuta-
tion of solar energy. This energy, after doing its allotted work, is in
time dissipated into space by radiation. And, were it not for the inter-
mediate position of the vegetable kingdom to check this degradation
of energy and raise the elementary constituents from the chemical to
the organic plane, man's duration here would be short indeed. The
locking up of potential energy in the protoplasmic cell of the plant
requires the expenditure of a vast amount of energy, but the solar ray,
aided by the subtile alchemy of the leaf, is competent for the task ;
and, while the chlorophyl of the leaf assists in weaving organic tissues
from the air, this outward dissipation of energy is delayed for a while,
giving us food for our bodies and fuel for our fires. This final process
of combustion once more converts these potential energies into the
dynamic form and sets them free to dissipate into space. All the me-
chanical power which comes from the combustion of fuel and all the
muscular force of the animal kingdom is but the transmutation of solar
energy through the mediumship of plant -life. "Well might we say, as
did the pagans of old, " We are children of the sun." This flood of
solar force is unceasing. Waves of ether may conduct a store of ener-
gies across the universe and invest them in a wealth of carbonaceous
flora ; these energies may lie dormant in vegetable fossils for untold
eras ; man may delve in mines and exhume the coal, and enlist the aid
of oxygen to break the bonds of chemical affinity, setting free those
energies stored away in the countless ages of the past ; he may unfold
link after link of the great dynamic chain of causation, and subject
them to the scrutinizing analysis of the physicist ; he may survey the
rocks and tell us of their radiations of internal heat, or by his calculus
tell us for how long in the past this planet may have been the theatre
of life and death ; he may tell us, not only of the energies in the
atoms of a drop of water, but of a world of atoms — nay, more, of a
universe made up of atoms with their energies drifting out into meas-
ureless space ; but he can tell us naught of that unseen universe into
which the energies of the visible creation are ever tending.

EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL ON CHARACTER. 379

"While dealing with the forces of Nature from an atomic standpoint,
we are treading upon the border-land of science, beyond which all sen-
sible phenomena have their origin.

Science may, by spectrum analysis, determine the constitution of
the irresolvable nebulae ; it may tell us of the millions upon millions
of ethereal waves necessary to impinge upon the retina to produce a
given chromatic effect ; it may measure the waves of air that roll as
music down upon the tympanum of the ear : but how undulations upon
the retina or vibrations of the auditory nerve are converted into con-
sciousness of sight or sound, is a question which, like the causation
and mystery of life, belongs to that realm outside of the domain of
science — a realm the infinite mystery of which transcends all analysis !

In conclusion, let us not be led into a rigid belief that the present
views of molecular physics are competent to explain all the phenomena
that may be presented for solution for all time to come. It is enough
to say that it answers our purpose in giving a satisfactory explanation
of a large class of natural phenomena as they are exhibited to us in
daily life. But, as we know the favored ideas of scientists and scholars
in generations preceding ours have given way to newer and better ones,
so, in turn, the popular conceptions of to-day may serve as stepping-
stones to coming ideas, each destined to take its place as the predeces-
sor of a higher and better intelligence.

■♦«♦•

EFFECTS OF ALCOHOLIC EXCESS OX CHARACTER.'

By J. MILNEE FOTHEEGILL, M. D.

A GREAT deal of attention has of late years been bestowed upon
the subject of alcoholic indulgence. The importance of the
subject warrants this, and even calls for still further attention. There
are differences of opinion as to the use of alcohol ; there are compara-
tively none as to the abuse of it. Leaving then, for the present, the
question of the use of alcohol in disease, its effect upon the body tem-
perature, and its position as a food, we may profitably engage ourselves
for a little time with its social effects, alike upon the individual and the
masses, especially in reference to its influence upon the mental mani-
festations of brain-activity. It is now universally acknowledged that
mental alterations follow physical modifications of the brain, as seen
in the various forms of insanity. We well know how profound is the
influence exerted by alcoholic excess upon the brain, and through it
upon the character. Unfortunately, the effects of continued alcoholic
excess are but too frequently forced upon our attention.

1 Read before the Social Science Congress at Liverpool.

38o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The most pronounced product is found in the hopeless drunkard,
who, in squalid rags, with rotten tissues, the embodiment of intellectual
and moral degradation, utterly beyond hope, the line of possible resto-
ration long past, hangs around the tavern-door, and, with the odor of
alcohol floating on his breast, whiningly begs a copper from the mass
of vitality around him, of which he himself is a withered and decaying
branch. This man is incapable of labor ; he is unwilling to entertain
the idea of toil. He is beyond any capacity for labor ; he is no longer
capable of discharging his duty as a citizen ; he is a social parasite of
the lowest and foulest order, as useless as a tapeworm. He has aban-
doned all self-respect, because there is nothing left in him for himself
or any one else to respect. He is a shameless liar, who will make the
most solemn protestations as to the truth of what it is patent enough
is false. There is no depth of moral degradation to which he will not
descend for the means to purchase a little more of the fluid which has
ever been his bane.

Betwixt him, however, and his patrons, many of whom enter the
tavern to celebrate some little matter by a glass together, there is a
potential association, not always at first sight readily apparent. The
effect of alcoholic indulgence is seductive ; and it often creeps on
unobserved, doing much irretrievable mischief ere its presence is unmis-
takable. It is not the intention of the writer here to discuss the ques-
tion of the moderate use of alcoholic beverages, but rather to point
out the fruits, the evil consequences, of excess. Betwixt the hopeless
drunkard and the casual taker of a social glass there are a thousand
grades and modifications. Nor does it necessarily follow that the one
shall degenerate into the other ; very commonly he does not ; but,
unfortunately, he may, and not unfrequently does. Too frequently,
indeed, the practice grows, especially in those who naturally lack self-
restraint, or cannot control their impulses, however capable in other
respects. The dangers of alcoholic allurement are various in their
degrees of potency in difl"erent individuals.

Not only that, but there is no little influence exercised by the im-
mediate motives for which alcohol is taken. The future progress of
the individual indulging in alcoholic excess is widely different, accord-
ing to the mental attitude at the time. Thus, betwixt the man who
has been taking alcohol to excess at intervals extending over many
years, and the young woman who is just commencing to drink because
she is unhappy, there is a wide gulf. The one, so far as the alcohol is
concerned, will probably live to an advanced age ; the prospects of life
in the other are very poor, and the ruin -will be swift and complete. In
the one there are long intervals of sobriety, during which the effects of
the debauch will, to a great extent, wear off ; in the other the act will
be repeated as often as opportunity will permit ; one act of indulgence
will lead to, indeed will induce another, and the oft and quickly re-
peated act will become a constant habit, whose effects are soon felt.

EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL OX CHARACTER. 381

It is not in women alone that the hopeless nature of drinking habits in
certain susceptible organisms is manifested ; it is equally seen in men
where the nervous system lacks stability.

The deceptiveness, the utter untrustworthiness, the subtle craft, the
falsehood, which women of culture even will develop under the influ-
ence of alcoholic cravings, have shocked many persons. The habitual
drunkard, however produced, always exhibits these characteristic signs
of moral degradation. The deterioration of character produced by pro-
tracted drunkenness is notorious. While the intellect becomes en-
feebled by excess, the moral character becomes profoundly modified ;
the forces which ordinarily restrain others are in abeyance — jDcrhaps
too often their influence has gone forever; the indifference toward the
interests of others progresses alongside a waxing selfishness, a complete
absorption in self. So long as they can procure what they themselves
crave for, confirmed drunkards are indifierent as to how others may
suffer for, or be injured by, their selfishness. The ordinary feelings of
parent or husband are too often overruled by the consuming passion ;
the wonted consideration for those who used to be dear to them has
given way to an inordinate egotism. Not uncommonly, indeed, there
is developed a vein of devilish mischievousuess which delights in injur-
ing those whom they ought to protect — a sort of malice, closely resem-
bling the viciousness of certain animals. Of course, all drunkards are
not exactly alike ; the ruin still preserves the general outline of the
primitive structure.

These statements may seem to some to be unnecessary as being
already too well known, and too notorious to need any reference to
them. But it is just because they are so well known and so indispu-
table that they are adduced here. Having thus laid firmly down the
•well-marked consequences of persistent alcoholic excess, it is possible
to proceed to consider the less pronounced conditions, and to trace the
course of the downward progress. It is evident that there must be
many intermediate stages betwixt the commencement and the end of
such a course — that some of the deteriorating effects of alcohol must
be experienced long before the final stage is reached.

It may be well to speak in general terms of the indication of this
direction, of this retrograding and degenerative process. The best
subjects for the study of the social effects of alcoholic excess are fur-
nished by the humbler classes: firstly, because the effects are more
palpable among them with their limited resources, where excess in one
direction means deprivation in another ; and, secondly, because they
present fewer complications, fewer elements of error to be encountered,
than is the case in the more complex condition of affluence. It must
not, however, for one moment be assumed that the evil consequences
of alcoholic excess are confined to the humbler classes. No position in
life will secure the individual against the unpleasant consequences of
such self-indulgence, or prevent his reaping as he has sown.

382 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A momentary dig-ression may be permissible at this point ; it will
help to illustrate what is to be said shortly. In an elaborate paper on
alcohol, read before the Medical Society of London last winter, by Dr.
Lauder Brunton, F. R. S., to which was awarded the society's medal,
it was stated that the first eflfects of alcohol are felt in the higher or
controlling portions of the brain. The consequences are, that the lower
or animal impulses manifest themselves, freed from the control to which
they are ordinarily subject. Such are the first symptoms of intoxica-
tion, after the stage of exhilaration has been passed. Then the motor
centres are implicated ; and complex movements, like walking, ordi-
narily habitual, require a conscious effort for their execution, and even
then the performance is imperfect. After this the lower portions at
the base of the brain are involved, leaving nothing but the respiration
and the circulation in action; while still further intoxication arrests
these movements, and the organism perishes.

It is this effect upon the higher centres of the brain Avhich induces
the most disastrous social outcomes of alcoholic indulgence. The per-
son who takes alcohol to excess becomes a lower form of being by com-
parison with those around him. This is seen alike in the individual
and in the aggregate. There is a diminution so brought about in the
power to exercise self-control, and to estimate aright the claims of the
future upon the present ; there is produced a state of thrif tlessness and
recklessness, and a lack of consideration for others. These effects are
demonstrated distinctly in two out of many practices. The one is that
form of improvident self-indulgence — early and premature marriage,
where the rite is robbed of all sacredness, and degraded to a mere form
of license for unrestrained indulgence. This is common in the pit dis-
tricts of Durham, where comparative children present themselves to be
married, who can scarcely have realized the gravity of the step they
are taking. Another form, sadly too common, is that of living in any
hovel where the rent is small, so that a larger sum weekly remains
over to be spent in drink. This is especially found amid the Irish in
towns. The moral effects of decent houses, with sufficient sleeping ac-
commodation for the two sexes, are well known; the disastrous im-
moral effects of huddling different sexes and ages together, from want
of proper sleeping-space, are equally notorious. Not only are these evil
consequences of such overcrowding produced, but, when alcohol gives
the rein to the passions, these consequences are aggravated and inten-
sified. There are then blen-ded the direct and the indirect outcomes of
alcoholic excess, each of which aggravates and adds to the other.

It is unnecessary to multiply illustrations of the deterioration of
character induced by alcoholic indulgence. Just one more may be ad-
duced. When recently on a visit to the South Yorkshire Asylum, near
Sheffield, Dr. Mitchell, its accomplished superintendent, informed me
that even in the victims of mania and general paralysis there was a
marked contrast in the degree of violence manifested betwixt the pa-

EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL OiV CHARACTER. 383

dents arriving from the purely agricultural districts and those from
the iron- work and colliery districts. This he attributed partly to their
rougher ways and to the nature of their occupations, but still more to
the drinking habits of the latter. That these last formed the chief fac-
tor in the production of the result was rendered probable by the large
proportion of female subjects of general paralysis in that asylum. This
disease is comparatively rare among women ; and its prevalence among
females from these districts Dr. Mitchell attributed to the habits of the
women being allied to those of the men, especially as regards indul-
gence in drink.

Such, then, are some of the grave social outcomes of systematic
indulgence in alcohol which arrest our attention. We have seen that
its effects upon the nervous system are such as to give the rein to the
lower centres, chiefly by lessening the control exercised by the higher
and restraining portions of the brain. Man escapes from his wonted
self-restraint when under the influence of alcohol, and stands before us
with his fundamental character revealed. The groundwork of his char-
acter is exposed by the removal of the demeanor which he has carefully
cultivated. The outside cover is withdrawn ; all, or nearly all, that self-
education or cultivation has given, is temporarily taken away. Through
the revelations so made by alcohol we not rarely find that even in staid
and proper men the tiger and the ape have not entirely died out. The
animal propensities are thus discovered to have been concealed rather
than subdued. For the time being the intoxicated individual is reft of
much that not only he but his ancestors for generations back have
studiously cultivated. For the time being he is a lower type of man.
About the truth of this statement there can be no doubt.

The progress of physiological psychology, of the investigation of
the workings of the mind, has taught us, in unmistakable accents, the
strong tendency which exists for a habit to be formed by repetition of
anything. After a thing has been done several times it becomes ex-
ceedingly easy to do it again. There is, in fact, in the nervous system
a great readiness to take on an attitude which has been assumed before.
We all recognize how it becomes necessarj' for every one to rehearse a
part before acting it, and how quickly a species of habit or imitative
attitude is formed. It is widely recognized that practice makes per-
fect, and that what was once difficult becomes easy by repetition of it.
These are but illustrations of a law universally acknowledged. We
all know how important it is to avoid what may become a habit. Con-
sequently, we can see distinctly and with painful clearness that re-
peated indulgence in alcoholic stimulation, not necessarily extending to
visible intoxication, must tend, by virtue of this law, to modifj' and
mould the character. Under alcohol the individual becomes sanguine,
reckless, careless of consequences, boastful, and indisposed to sober cal-
culation ; he also becomes self-assertive, arrogant, and boisterous ; there
exist £#certain impulsiveness and impatience of control, and a distinct

384 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

tendency to reacli certain ends by violence, if other measures do not
seem likely to be successful. In fact, we see the habitual self-restraint
slowly developed by the exertions of many ancestors, by the efforts of
the individual himself, aided by the training given by education, for
the time being withdrawn to a great extent. Every time this act is
repeated the greater the tendency for the character to manifest its low-
er rather than its higher forms. The character is indeed being slowly
modified, and that, too, in a most undesirable direction. It is being
gradually deprived of much that a slow process of civilization has
given it.

It must be patent to all that the direction just depicted is that in
which our town populations are distinctly moving. I have sketched
elsewhere (the Alliance JVews, July 22 and 29, 1876) those circum-
stances in the condition of the masses which, in my opinion, render
something more than the mere removal of temptation necessary in
the practical treatment of intemperance. Whatever may be the ef-
fect of monotonous occupations, of bad hygienic surroundings, of im-
proper food in infancy, and the physical deterioration which results
from large aggregations of individuals, there can be no question but
that repeated alcoholic indulgence is gradually modifying the character
of the masses. It is seen in the growing insubordination, in the turbu-
lence, the impatience of control, in the tendency to assert their opinion
on subjects of which they are not in a position to judge ; it is demon-
strated in the growing thriftlessness, in the marked inclination to in-
crease the number of their holidays, in the spending of a large portion
of their weekly earnings on Saturdays and Sundays, till the middle of
the week is a time of comparative destitution. It is illustrated by the
columns of our daily press in the increased acts of violence perpetrated
under the infiuence of alcohol by men accustomed to be intoxicated ;
and by the increase of disease of the nervous system, especially exci-
table forms of mania, found most commonly amid the population of
certain industrial districts. Doubtless there are many thrifty, sober,
self-respecting, and industrious working-men ; but it caxmot be denied
that the proportion of such men to the whole body is less now than
it was in days not far gone by. The character of the masses has been
undergoing grave modifications in recent times ; and the fashioning
hand of alcohol can be clearly traced in the production of the results.

There is, however, a still grimmer aspect of this subject than even
the effects of repeated indulgence upon the mental attitude of the in-
dividual himself, and that is the influence which such indulgence will
and must exercise upon the nervous system of his offspring. We are
all of us " the outcome of the cooperation of countless ancestral forces,"
and each of us is individually indebted to his ancestors for every act of
self-restraint, every act of self-denial or control exercised by each of
them. Our forefathers, in forming their own character, were insensibly
fashioning ours. "The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and tlw chil-

EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL ON CHARACTER. 385

dren's teetli are set on edge," is sternly true. What, then, can we legiti-
mately expect to be manifested in the next generation ? Further, if
children are taught to frequent taverns, and drink there on holidays and
Sundays, by their fond but foolish parents, what eifect must this exert
upon the character during the plastic period of youth and growth ? How
far are the inherited mental constitution and nervous system, already
depraved to start with, still further modified by such experience of the
individual in childhood, when " wax to receive but marble to retain ? "
Conditions already hard enough upon the child are aggravated by indis-
cretions perpetrated toward the infant before its own free will and
choice can be called into play, before it is responsible for its own ac-
tions. Not only have its parents given it an imperfect organization,
but they are prejudicing its chances of self-evolution before it has had
an opportunity of forming its own decision — it is handicapped alike by
descent and by mischievous early training.

The habit of frequenting taverns, of drinking, and of feeling the
self-satisfaction so induced, leads to still further indulgence in alcohol
by half-grown youths ; and so the inherited character is still further
deteriorated. The increasing loss of self-control leaves such beings
less and less capable of resisting the temptations, the allurements of
the public-house. The impulsive and less perfectly controlled nervous
system craves more and more for the alcoholic stimulant ; and the
longings are intensified accordingly. The repeated visits to the tavern
grow into a custom, and what commences as an irregular practice be-
comes crystallized into a habit.

Nor is it in youths alone that the drinking customs of the day are
seen in their evil and sombre aspects. The number of respectable girls
seen now at public bars is a contrast to what obtained but a few years
ago. Up to a recent period, if a girl were known to frequent taverns,
her character was gone ; and it was rarely that a well-conducted girl
was seen in a public-house, and then only with her sweetheart or some
male relatives. But now it is sadly difi'erent. From familiarity with
bars as an outcome of excursions, and even more from the associations
of the music-hall, girls, capable of better things, are not now apparently
conscious of any impropriety in being in a public-house without male
friends ; and the painful spectacle of seeing young girls under twenty
treating each other at a public bar is a sadly too common occurrence.
How can a girl, with the mobile nervous system of her sex, be fitted
to be a mother, and to counteract the evil tendencies of alcoholic in-
dulgence in the father, if she herself have been subjected to the same
influence ? With the facts of inheritance before us, what may we ex-
pect, what must we apprehend as to the condition — the future pros-
pects— of the generation following immediately after this one ? As our
forefathers insensibly and unconsciously built up the character of the
present generation, so it, in its turn, is fashioning the character of its
successors, its unborn offspring. No wonder, then, that the morale as

TOL. XIT. — 25

386 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

well as the physique of the masses in large towns is undergoing already
retrograde changes ; and that the present condition fills the minds of
observers of social progress with gloomy forebodings as to the future.
The progress of civilization has endowed us with a measure of self-con-
trol, has tended to subordinate the unit of the mass — to encourage the
evolution of the citizen as compared to the mere individual. The effect
of alcoholic indulgence to excess is to institute retrogressive changes,
and to undo, to a great extent, what civilization has slowly achieved. —
Sanitary Becorcl.

SKETCH OF GUSTAY WALLIS.

aUSTAV WALLIS, the indefatigable traveler and botanist, whose
death at Cuenca, Ecuador, we recently announced, was born
May 1, 1830, at LUneburg, Prussia, where his father was an advocate
and proctor of the superior court. He died at the early age of forty-
eight years, of which the last eighteen were spent in incessant travel
and research. We have not been able to learn any particulars concern-
ing the early life of this distinguished traveler, for the compilers of
biographical dictionaries have utterly ignored the man whose merit is
simply that he has enriched horticulture with no less than one thousand
new species. And here we may remark that works of the class just
named are as a rule singularly neglectful of the representatives of sci-
ence : while every divine and politician that rises ever so little above the
average of his class is mentioned, scientific men whose fame is world-
wide are passed by in silence. For the biographical items contained
in the present sketch we gratefully acknowledge our indebtedness to
our German contemporary, Die Natur, in which is published a brief
but appreciative memoir of Wallis by his friend Dr. Karl Mliller, editor
of that very able magazine.

Wallis's travels in quest of botanical rarities began in 18G0, his first
field of labor being the same which, with the exception of two years,
engaged his attention down to the day of his death — tropical America.
In that year we find him exploring the banks of the Lower Amazon and
a few of its principal tributaries, the Tapajos, Madeira, Purus, etc. In
1863, quitting the course of the great stream, he made an excursion
northward, crossing the Rio Negro and the Rio Branco and penetrating
to the Sierra Parima on the southern frontier of Venezuela, in longitude
west 64°, and nearly under the equator. Returning to the Amazon, he
explored the left bank for some distance up-stream ; then swimming
across the river, he followed the right bank westward into Peru and
Ecuador, crossing the Cordilleras, and in 1866 arriving at the city of
Guayaquil. Here he took ship for the port of Buenaventura in the

SKETCH OF GUSTAV WALLIS.

387

Corombian State of the same name ; and thence, after explorino- the
coast Cordillera of the State of Choco, visited the valley of the Cauca.
In 1867 he reached Panama and explored the Isthmus up to the volcano
of Chiriqui. Turning back he traveled along the northern coast of
Colombia till he reached the State of Santa Marta, and then turning
south he crossed the Sierra Nevada, and made his way to Santa Fe
de Bogotd, traversing the intermediate provinces. In the same year
(1868) he sailed on his return voyage to Europe, having traversed the
whole extent of tropical America from north to south. He reached his
German home in a state of complete physical exhaustion, as very plainly
appears from the photograph taken at this time, of which our engraving
is a copy.

Hitherto he had been in the employ of a well-known horticultural
establishment in Brussels, that of Linden ; but in 1869 he received a
commission from the London house of Veitch & Co. to visit the Philip-
pines on an errand similar to that from which he had so recently re-
turned. He accordingly took passage for the United States, traveled
overland to California, and thence reached Manila by way of China and
Japan. He specially studied the mountain-chains of Luzon for plants
and other natural-history specimens. In 1871 he returned home by way
of Singapore and the Suez Canal.

Before the year was at an end he was again m route for the tropical
regions of South America. These countries had cast their spell upon
him, and he could with justice say that, of all botanical travelers, he
knew them best. At the same time he was in hopes that he might be
able to visit and botanically explore a region that was in bad repute,
owing to the hostile character of the neighboring Indians, viz., the
"Pongo de Manseriche "— the grand rocky chasm through which the
Maranon forces its way. He had once before approached very near to
this locality from the Ecuador side, but had been obliged to give it a
wide berth, the natives manifesting their hostility. But his explora-
tions this time extended only to the Paramo country in New Granada,
and in 1873 he went back to Europe. This expedition was made at the
expense of the house of Linden. Again he explored the elevated moun-
tain-chains of the United States of Colombia ; and finally, at his own
charges, he began an exploration of the Pacific coast of Ecuador.

The hardships endured by Wallis during these fifteen years of con-
stant pioneering in tropical forests and swamps finally undermined his
strength, and he was seized with a complication of diseases. He died,
penniless and friendless, in the hospital of the Sisters of Charity at
Cuenca, Ecuador, on the 20th of June, 1878.

388

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

COIlIlESPON"DEN C E .

IS YELLOW FEVER EITDEMIC IN THE
GULF STATES?

To tlie Editors of the Popular Science Monthly.

GENTLEilEN : Mr. L. C. Fisher, of Gal-
veston, Texas, has seen fit, in a recent
pamptilet,' to attack my article on " Yellow
Fever," published in the October number of
your valuable magazine, with considerable
"warmth and even asperity. He considers
himself aggrieved by the statement that yel-
low fever is endemic in the cities of the Gulf
and South Atlantic coast. If the gentleman
wishes to enter into a controversy on the
subject, I must certainly decline to meet him,
for two reasons : first, because your space
is too valuable for interminable discussions ;
and, second, it is a matter of general experi-
ence that arguments on professional ques-
tions with non-professional persons are very
unsatisfactory. A few explanatory words,
however, I may be allowed to say, and fur-
ther than this I shall decline to discuss
medical questions with a layman.

He says, " If it is only endemic in the
Gulf and" South Atlantic cities, will Dr.
Tracy explain why the disease appeared in
Boston and Philadelphia so many years be-
fore it appeared in New Orleans?" The
answer is a simple one. It was brought to
the Northern cities earlier because of their
earlier commercial relations with the West
Indies, and the difference in the two cases
is, that the disease never appears in the
Northern cities unless it is imported, while
in New Orleans it has never left the city
since it was first brought there. New Or-
leans was exempt up to 1796, but, according
to Dr. J. C. Nott, " from that time to the
present (1870) there has never been a sin-
gle year without sporadic cases when they
escaped epidemics." Mr. Fisher appears to
have the idea that a dis:ease cannot be called
endemic excepting where it originates de
novo, like the malarial poison, for instance.
In this sense it cannot be proved that yel-
low fever is endemic anywhere ; for, however
it may have first started, it is now the ac-
cepted belief that it only occurs as a result
of previous cases, and it is fairly said to be
endemic in places where the poison does not
appear to have ever been destroyed since it
was first brought to them. The occasional
dormancy of the disease does not imply its
extinction, for there is no place in the world
where it rages as an epidemic the year round.

Mr. Fisher is also perturbed in spirit
because I spoke of yellow fever as " begin-
ning its march" and "following water-
courses and lines of ocean-travel." He
thinks a metaphor out of place in a scien-
tific article, and suggests that " a truly sci-
entific physician would say yellow fever, or
its germs or fomites, is carried," etc. The
use of metaphor is of course a matter of
taste. He does not like it. I do. And that
is the end of it. But when he attributes to
the " truly scientific physician " such an
expression as the fomites of yellow fever,
he shows that he is getting out of his depth.
Let him look up the word fomites and see
what it means.

His suggestion that my unpretending
article was the result of a deep-laid plot to
ruin the commerce of Southern cities is
really too funny for sober consideration.
Why did he not go a little further, and ac-
cuse me of ulterior designs on the throne of
Mexico?

I am sure I should be the last to wish to
injure the prospects of any section of our
country, and if the present efforts to estab-
lish a national quarantine should be success-
ful, and the disease should actually be ex-
terminated in our Southern cities, I should
be very much gratified. But, until that is
accomplished, I may surely be allowed to
have my own opinion on a question on which
opinions are, and always have been, so much
divided, and to believe that quarantine alone
will not banish yellow fever from our Gulf
cities at least. Mr. Fisher's energy and
earnestness in the matter are to be highly
commended, however, and I certainly shall
not try to put any obstacles in his way,
however much I may disagree with his
theories. Yours, very respectfully,

Roger S. Tract.
New York, November 18, 18"S.

1 " Yellow Fever's Oriffin.
Endemic in this Country."
Galveston, Texas.

The Disease not
By L. C. Fisher.

SCIENCE LECTUEES IN JAPAN.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

My dear Professor : How I wish you
were here to see the eager way in which an
audience of intelligent Japanese listen to
lectures from their own countrymen and
from a few of us who have been fortunate
enough to be invited to address them !

I have just finished a course of four
lectures on Darwinism. Mr. Kikuchi, a na-
tive professor in the university, and a grad-
uate of Cambridge, England, and a wran-

EDITOR'S TABLE.

389

gler besides, interpreted for me. I had my
blackboard and chalk, and did my best to
make the principles of natural selection
clear. As soon as I can write them out
they will be published in Japanese, with
illustrations, which I shall draw as far as
possible from Japanese animals. Prof.
PenoUosa, one of the new foreign profess-
ors at the university, follows with a course
of four lectures on the evolution of reli-
gions.

It seems such a delight to these people
to find that there are some other views held
abroad besides those taught by the mission-
aries, and the hearty way in which they ap-
plaud shows how welcome rational views are.

Prof. Mendenhall, of the university,
formerly of the Ohio State University, will
give a course of lectures on the magnet,
capillarity, gravitation, and other subjects.

before the same audience — Mr. Agee, the
originator of the course, interpreting for
him. All the money raised in this way will
be devoted to buiJding a lecture-hall in
Tokio.

At present the lectures are given in a
large tea-house on Sunday afternoons — the
large audience seated in the usual Japan-
ese fashion on the floor, with boxes of hot
coals here and there for the convenience of
pipe-smokers. The audience have pre-
sented to them from four to five lectures
succeeding each other, with but a few min-
utes' intermission between each lecturer.
Their endurance in this respect is remark-
able. I hope to lecture for them repeatedly
during the winter.

Faithfully yours,

Edward S. Morse.
Tokio, November 10, 18T8.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

PROTECTION AND SOCIALISM.

THOSE who studv the influence of
legislation in a careful, dispas-
sionate way, and merely as a problem
of science, will soon be struck by two
things: first, that laws frequently fail
to produce their expected effects ; and,
second, that they give rise to many re-
sults which were not at all anticipated.
There are various reasons for this ;
among which are the intrinsic difficul-
ties of a complex subject, false notions
in regard to it, and the arrant incapaci-
ty of the men who deal with it. In
the first place, human society is regu-
lated by laws of its own, which can-
not be suspended in their operation by
civil interference, and which are, more-
over, highly complicated and often ob-
scure and unresolved. And wlien to
the complexities which belong to each
locality there are superadded the di-
versified conditions — climatic, indus-
trial, and racial — which pertain to a
vast region of country, the complica-
tion of social forces is vastly augment-
ed. Even the most powerful minds,
after long application to the subject, are
unable to grasp these multifarious con-
ditions so as to know liow laws will

take effect. Hence the ablest thinkers
on social "matters are the most cautious,
and have least confidence in the pro-
duction of social good by legislative
projects.

But even in those cases that are suffi-
ciently understood to make knowledge
valuable for the law-maker's guidance,
it is difficult to get the actual benefit
of it. Our " legislative wisdom " is too
apt to be swamped in legislative folly.
There are prevalent superstitions about
the dignity, and grand offices, and mys-
terious potencies of government, which
lead people enormously to exaggerate
what can really be got out of it.
Stripped of this glamour, what is popu-
lar government at any time but the
office-holding politicians that have been
got together to represent and embody
it ? Constitutions and laws derive their
value and virtue from the competency
and character of the men chosen to in-
terpret and apply them. If these are
low, legislation will be degraded. "What
government is and does is determined
by the quality of those who carry it
on. The American Congress is invest-
ed . with power to abolish past legis-
lation and substitute new legislation ;

39°

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

but who will pretend that it is consti-
tuted of men capable of comprehend-
ing even the rudimental interactions
of social forces, much less the far-
reaching consequences of experimental
legislation ? A large number of tliem
are illiterate blockheads, who have
never seriously studied anything — men
who have made money and used it to
get otBce. Many Congressmen are mere
practised political bullies and intriguers.
Many are shrewd lawyers who know
the technicalities of their profession,
and but little else. Others are edu-
cated men, but in whose education no
science of any sort ever entered. And
there are a few Congressmen of able
minds, who have critically studied the
facts and principles relating to human
society which should underlie sound
legislation. But they are precious few ;
their chances of getting into Congress
are slender, and of remaining there
next to impossible — even if their self-
respect would permit them to wish it.
And what chance would really profound
men have of influence upon the con-
gressional body ? He who speaks of dis-
tant results, and the indirect operation
of measures, is pooh-poohed as an ab-
stractionist and an impracticable. The
statesman is the man of far-sighted
forecast, who can act with a reference
to remote results ; the politician recog-
nizes only that which is direct, imme-
diate, and palpable, such as foolish con-
stituencies can appreciate, and of such
is our national Congress mainly made
up. If a man of mental grasp and force
should undertake to discuss questions of
social interest from the scientific point
of view, he would not be understood,
could not be followed, and would be
voted a bore by the majority of medi-
ocrities in the assemblage. Hence the
neglect of those remote but often potent
consequences of legislation of which
short-sighted partisans are apt to take
but little account.

An illustration of this is furnished
by the long congressional treatment of

the subject of "protection." The pro-
tective policy has always been defended
and urged on the lowest grounds of
immediate, palpable, pecuniary advan-
tage, such as unthinking and sordid
people can best appreciate. How such
legislation will affect this or that busi-
ness, or operate in this or that locality,
has ever been the vital consideration
that has obscured all other considera-
tions. "What is to be the ultimate out-
come of protective legislation in its
wide, indirect, subtile influence upon the
minds of the people is a question which
our national law-makers have not
troubled themselves to investigate. Yet
agencies that act quietly and take time
to develop are often the most moment-
ous at last. Congress has been busy
with inquiries as to how tariffs would
affect trade and manufactures, but it
has had no concern about the habits of
thought that the protective system
might finally engender among the peo-
ple. Yet we now begin to be con-
fronted with this serious question.
That there is a tendency to the spread
of socialistic and communistic doc-
trines in this country is undeniable;
and it is equally certain that the fact
inspires grave anxiety on the part of
thoughtful and conservative men. Not-
withstanding our popular educational
system, our numerous colleges, our
abundant newspapers and cheap books
— unparalleled agencies for the diffusion
of intelligence — doctrines are making
headway, and are extensively accepted,
that threaten the entire subversion of
our social fabric. It has not needed
much acuteness to connect communistic
tendencies with the system of paternal
care-taking and protective government
which has been growing in strength in
this republic for many years. But an
English writer of ability on economical
questions has lately presented this mat-
ter in a way that will command the
attention of reflecting people. Prof.
Fawcett, who occupies the chair of Po-
litical Economy in the University of

EDITOR'S TABLE.

391

Cambridge, and is besides an author
on economical subjects, and a member
of the House of Commons, has pub-
lished an article in the Fortnightly
Bevieic,^ " On the Recent Development
of Socialism in Germany and the
United States." He takes the ground
that this development is but the natu-
ral result of the doctrine of unlimited
state functions, and the extravagant
notions of what government is capable
of accomplishing, which are widely
disseminated in both of these countries.
In Germany, paternal government, cen-
tralization, bureaucracy, and compul-
sory military service, all conspire to fix
deep in the national mind the idea of
the omnipotence of the state, which
has therefore only to exert its power
and it can confer boundless good upon
aU its subjects. In this country gov-
ernmental care-taking is most con-
spicuous in that protective system by
which the people's industries are taken
charge of by the state. The notion is
thus fostered that the people owe their
prosperity to the Government, and
from this the inference is ready that
the state is responsible for their pros-
perity. But the logic of protection
does not stop with its application to
business ; if it can help people materi-
ally it can also help them mentally, and
so the belief is now widely maintained
that the state owes every citizen an
education. With so much conceded,
the socialist has no difficulty in draw-
ing still further conclusions in the same
direction, and so he plants himself at
last on the high protective ground that
Government shall take possession of all
property and take care of everybody.
After a careful survey of the claims of
socialists and communists as shown by
their works, and the proceedings of
their Congresses, Prof. Fawcett sums
up their programme in the following
propositions :

" 1. That there should be no private prop-

' Reprinted in The Populae Science Monthly
Supplement for December.

erty, and that no one should be permitted
to acquire property by inheritance. That
all should be compelled to labor, no one
having a right to live without labor.

" 2. The nationalization of the land, and
of the other instruments of production ; or,
in other words, the state should own all
the land, capital, machinery — in fact, every-
thing which constitutes the industrial plant
of a country, in order that every industry
may be carried on by the state."

The essence of socialism is thus the
subversion of private independence and
the substitution for it of entire depend-
ence upon the state ; that is, the pro-
tection of the citizen is to be no half-
w^ay matter, but thorough-going and
complete. Carried to this conclusion,
the doctrine is of course palpably ab-
surd and insane, but have the people
not been actually educated toward it
by the established and extending doc-
trine of state omnipotence and protec-
tive guardianship of the people's busi-
ness interests ? It is now demanded that
the state shall be simply consistent, and
carry out its policy. The state has
already far transcended its legitimate
function of protecting the rights of its
citizens by the enforcement of justice in
social relations. It has, in fact, neglect-
ed and half forgotten this legitimate and
incumbent duty in its zeal to take care
of those interests and affairs of citizens
with which it has no concern, because
they are parts of the liberty and re-
sponsibility of individuals in free so-
ciety. Yet this meddling policy of Gov-
ernment is undoubtedly strengthening,
notwithstanding its multiform evils.
We are boastfully told that the protec-
tive system is not declining in this coun-
try, as is evinced by the fact that four-
teen hundred articles of commerce are
the subjects of protective taxation, so
that the prices of almost every purchas-
able thing are dependent upon legisla-
tion, while the people acquiesce in the
policy as wise and proper. But this is
only so much vantage-ground for the
communist who demands the enlarge-
ment of the svstem on the basis of its

392

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

acknowledged benefits. As Prof. Faw-
cett justly remarks :

"Eacb fresh extension of the principles
of centralization or of industrial protection
may be regarded as directly promoting the
growth of socialistic ideas, A people who
from their earliest childhood are accustomed
to believe that state management is better
than individual effort, will not unnaturally
think that, if they can place themselves in a
position to control the state, they will then
possess a power which will enable them to
redress every grievance from which they are
suffering, and to remedy everything which
they may regard as unsatisfactory in their
condition."

No doubt these radical communistic
claims are too wild and ridiculous to
be entertained by intelligent and sober-
minded people, but many people are
neither intelligent nor sober-minded.
There is of course no danger that their
programme will be carried out, but
grave mischief cannot fail to result
from the diffusion of such poisonous
and destructive notions, and we are
now compelled to consider to what ex-
tent Government is not itself charge-
able with having fostered and encour-
aged them. At any rate, the honest
advocates of the protective system may
be led to consider whether it is not pro-
ductive of an order of evil consequences
not foreseen by the politicians who have
maintained it.

THE RELIGIOUS RECOGNITION OF

NATURE.

Peof. Joseph Hexrt was a religious
man as well as a man of science. He
wrote a brief letter to a friend just be-
fore his death, suggesting at its close
that it is in the "line of theological
speculation ; " and being an eminent
scientist, his religious views are so
prized by religious people that this let-
ter has been printed as a tract for gra-
tuitous distribution, and is to be had at
the American Tract Society, 150 Nassau
Street, New York. It is an encouraging
sign of the times to see devout people
showing in this way aa increasing ap-

preciation of the importance of the be-
liefs of scientific men concerning theo-
logical matters. We heartily commend
this practice, for if theological discords
are ever to come to an end it must be
by the substitution of scientific ideas
for dogmatic creeds. The sects will ul-
timately harmonize just in proportion
as they absorb scientific truth.

Prof. Henry did not live to revise
his letter (usually a careful habit with
him), and it therefore has the interest
and value of a spontaneous private ex-
pression of his convictions, and it was
made, he says, " without stopping to in-
quire whether what I have written may
be logical or orthodox." "With this can-
did carelessness about his orthodoxy we
entirely sympathize, and are here in-
terested in this unconstrained avowal
of his religious views because of their
relation to science.

In the true scientific spirit and meth-
od he begins by looking out upon Na-
ture and regarding it as presenting
problems that require to be solved.
Largely viewed, we are in the midst of
its mighty movement; we are a part
of it; we emerge and quickly disap-
pear— what view shall we take of it ?
on what hypothesis explain it ? Among
the various theories of the universe he
accepts the theistic theory as the " sim-
plest conception," and giving the most
satisfactory account of things. His so-
lution is that the order of the world is
originated and directed by a Divine Be-
ing who has made man with a capacity
of understanding the universe by means
of science. As his own statement is
important, we quote his words :

" "We live in a universe of change : noth-
ing remains the same from one moment till
another, and each moment of recorded time
has its separate history. We are carried on
by the ever-changing events in the line of
our destiny, and at the end of the year we
are always at a .lonsideraible distance from
the point of its beginning. How short the
space between the two cardinal points of an
earthly career, the point of birth and that of
death ; and yet what a universe of wonders
are presented to us in our rapid flight

EDITOR'S TABLE.

393

through tins space ! How small the ■wisdom
obtained by a single life in its passage ; and
how smttU the known wlien compared with
the unknown by the accumulation of the
millions of lives through tlie art of printing
in hundreds of years !

" How many questions press themselves
upon us in these contemplations ! Whence
come we? Whither are we going? What
is our final destiny ? What the object of our
creation ? What mysteries of unfuthomable
depth environ us on every side ! But after
all our speculations, and an attempt to grap-
ple with the problem of the universe, the
simplest conception which explains and con-
nects the phenomena is that of the existence
of one spiritual Being, infinite in wisdom, in
power, and all divine perfections ; which
exists always and everywhere ; which has
created us with intellectual faculties suffi-
cient in some degree to comprehend his
operations as they are developed in Nature
by what is called ' science.' "

Prof. Henry here begins with Na-
ture, and deduces from its study the
fundamental conception of religion —
the idea of a Divine Spiritual Ruler of
the universe, who has made man capa-
ble of penetrating its secrets and un-
derstanding its laws by the faculty of
reason applied to scientific investiga-
tion. Nature, God, religion, and sci-
ence, are thus bound together in one
grand synthetic and harmonized con-
ception. In this view Prof. Henry rep-
resented the most advanced intelligence
of his time, and how advanced was his
view we can best appreciate by con-
trasting it with other states of mind in
the theological sphere.

It is well known that, in the lan-
guage of a recent writer, " the men of
the first Christian generation, includ-
ing the apostles and the writers of the
New Testament, lived in the almost
daily expectation of the Lord and the
end of the world," The notion of the
world's coming to an end was an easy
one in a state of perfect ignorance of
the nature of the world. When it was
supposed to be flat and small, and sta-
tionary, and there was no such idea as
that of the universe, and not the slight-
est conception of anything like order and

stability in the constitution of subluna-
ry things, there was certainly no rea-
son why the world should not come to
an end at almost any time. It was
supposed to have been made in a some-
what hurried manner, not very long
ago, and it was natural to think that it
might terminate at almost any hour in
a similar sudden way. And, as its cre-
ation was considered as belonging to
theology, its extinction, it was supposed,
would come by a theological catastro-
phe. The idea that the world might
come to an end was made possible by
the ignorance of the time, and as men
knew nothing about its shape, magni-
tude, motions, relations, and antiquity,
they could not be expected to know
anything in favor of its duration. No
'blame can therefore be attached to
the primitive Christians who were in
daily expectation of the end of the
world.

But when we pass over a period of
eighteen hundred years and reach the
nineteenth century, the case is differ-
ent. It is not surprising that the early
traditions should have long been tena-
ciously held in the sphere of theology,
but it certainly is a matter of some
amazement that a belief in the pre-
dicted destruction of the earth as the
sequel of a theological programme
oould have been seriously entertained
so late as the middle of the present
century. Yet the sudden ending of
mundane affairs in accordance with
Scripture predictions was not only pro-
foundly believed by multitudes, but the
exact time was assigned and extensive
preparations made for the grand event.
The epidemic of Millerism spread over
large parts of the country not many
years ago, and, although the exact cal-
culations were discredited, revised cal-
culations took their jdace, and societies
of " Second Adventists " in different
parts of the country have kept alive
the exhilarating prospect that the earth
would soon be wrapped in conflagration,
and, if not reduced to nothing, that the

394

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

terrestrial order would at any rate come
to an end.

A Second Advent Convention Ims
recently been held in New York, wliicli
was devoted to a modified form of this
old doctrine. A church was crowded
with its adherents, coming from all the
religious denominations in various parts
of the country, and the subject was
discussed for days with great fervor
and enthusiasm. Nothing was said in
the proceedings about the end of the
world, but they were redolent of the
expectation of great supernatural events
which it was supposed by many may
happen at any time. A great array of
theological talent was present, and
many learned disquisitions were read.
The conference was Pre-millenarian in
sentiment, and Dr. West, a Presbyte-
rian clergyman of Cincinnati, explained
the doctrine as follows : " Christian
Chiliasm, or Pre-millenarianisra, is the
doctrine of the personal reign of Christ
one thousand years after beast, false
prophet, and apostate Christendom,
have been judged and perished in a
common doom. It is the doctrine of a
visible and external sovereignty of
Christ upon earth as the outcome of
history, the redeemed church of all
ages rejoicing in the fullness of a resur-
rection-life, in the actual presence of
Him who is the ' Prince of the kings
of the earth ' — a kingdom of outward
glory established upon the ruin of the
polities of all nations wide as the can-
opy of heaven."

Furthermore, " Pre-millennialism is
a protest against the doctrine of the
unbroken evolution of the kingdom of
God to absolute perfection on earth
apart from the visible and miraculous
intervention of Christ. It is an equal
protest against that vapid idealism
which volatilizes the perfect kingdom
into a spiritual abstraction apart from
the regenesis of the earth."

"What Dr. West here understands by
" vapid idealism " and volatilizing the
kingdom into a " spiritual abstraction "

is simply a protest against the enlarged
interpretation of Scripture passages in
which many modern theologians are
inclined to indulge. The convention
went unanimously for the literal mean-
ing of Biblical texts. " Outside of its
lids " (the Bible), said Dr. Tyng, Jr..
" we decline to follow our disputants."
Again: "One verse in every twenty-
five or about three hundred verses of
the New Testament speak of this future
event." Dr. Goodwin planted himself
" on the self-sufficiency of the Script-
ures to explain themselves." The dis-
cussion throughout was filled with theo-
logical technicalities, the import of ad-
verbs and pronouns, the rendering of
Greek and Hebrew passages, and the
ransacking of Biblical books from the
Pentateuch to the Apocalypse for hints,
allusions, and declarations, that might
be made to sustain the hypothesis to
which the body was committed.

AVe refer to all this merely as a cu-
rious and instructive phenomenon of
our times. There was but one refer-
ence, as we observe, to science in all
the proceedings. A distinguished cler-
gyman remarked: "Look at that audi-
ence ; you can't get such a gathering at
secular conferences. Why, at a scien-
tific convention a paper an hour long
nearly always succeeds in thinning the
audience down to the specialists in the
topic of which it treats." This obser-
vation seems to have exhausted the
entire interest of the convocation in
scientific matters. All the knowledge
that has been developed in the last five
hundred years regarding the order of
the world was as so much idle wind
to these Second Advent theologians.
Prof. Henry, as we have seen, began
his theology with the consideration of
Nature ; this conference neither began
with Nature nor ended with it, nor
made any more reference to it than as
if it had been composed of disembod-
ied beings who had never heard of
natural things. Though their theories
were maintained as taking effect upon

EDITOR'S TABLE.

395

human life and the earthly destiny of
humanity, there was not a reference to
the natural world as heing in its exist-
ing order an embodiment of Divine
wisdom, or entitled to the slightest
serious consideration. In fact, the
whole scheme of doctrine put forth was
impliedly based upon the old assump-
tion that Nature belongs to Satan, and
deserves destruction as the embodi-
ment of all sin. Dr. Brookes, of St.
Louis, discussed the doctrine of the
convention in relation to the fall of
Adam and the universal curse that it
entailed, saying, "From that day to
this the curse has smitten the old and
the young, the rich and tlie poor, the
king and the peasant, the philosopher
and the savage alike, and diffused its
virulent poison through the whole sys-
tem of Nature."

It is clear that a great deal is yet to
be done before such enlightened opin-
ions as those of Prof. Henry become
accepted and assimilated in the religious
world ; and such conventions as this of
the Second Adventists are extremely
useful as indicating the amount of con-
scientious ignorance that has yet to be
overcome before the scientific truths of
Nature are even so much as recognized.

IMPROVED DOMESTIC ECONOMY.

The Princess Louisa received an ad-
dress from a deputation of the Ladies'
Educational Association of Montreal,
and they got from her a very sensible
reply. But what will the operators of
our fashionable girls' schools and of our
female colleges and normal schools say
to the closing observation of this royal
and court-bred lady, which was as fol-
lows: "May I venture to suggest the
importance of giving special attention
to the subject of domestic economy,
which properly lies at the root of the
highest life of every true woman ? "
This is a momentous truth; none the
more true, of course, because uttered

by a princess, but perhaps some will
be induced to reflect upon it on account
of the distinguished source from which
it comes. For if what the princess here
says is correct, our schools for the edu-
cation of women are very far from what
they should be. Domestic economy, in
its full significance as a foundation of
the highest life of woman, happens to
be just the one particular thing which
our female boarding-schools, colleges,
and normal schools systematically avoid.
They learn languages, and history, and
algebra, and music, and many other
fashionable things, but the science of
domestic life and the art of home-mak-
ing find noplace in the feminine scheme
of studies. Here and there a little at-
tention is paid to it, but it nowhere
has the rank and importance which is
rightfully its due, and which this most
sensible princess claims for it.

The term "domestic economy" has
been hitherto used in so narrow and
misleading a sense that there is con-
siderable prejudice in regard to it. Its
common implication is a mere improved
mechanical housekeeping, or domestic
drudgery made methodical, with a chief
view to economy in home expenditures.
The term has participated in the vul-
garity that attaches to the menial and
servile associations of the kitchen, so
that little books upon domestic econo-
my are thought the proper things to
put into the hands of cooks and hire-
ling housekeepers. But domestic econ-
omy, as something " which properly lies
at the root of the highest life of every
true woman," is a very different thing,
implying culture and intelligence in the
whole circle of home duties and re-
sponsibilities, and the consequent ren-
ovation and elevation of the domestic
sphere. This view happily begins to
be more clearly and widely appreciated.
"We have just read with great interest
a lecture on scientific housekeeping de-
livered by Mrs. Arthur Bate before the
Popular Science Society at Milwaukee
College, which explains in an admirable

39^

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

way how many new subjects and ques-
tions there are upon which women re-
quire to be trained in order to make
them competent and skillful administra-
tors of home affairs. Mrs. Bate shows
conclusively that science has exactly
the same office to perform in guiding
domestic art that it has had to perform
in giving efficiency to all the other arts,
and that it will confer the same interest
and dignity upon household affairs that
it has already conferred upon other de-
partments of acti\aty. She well ob-
serves that in gaining tlie knowledge
necessary to make the home a sanita-
rium—the house of health — educated
housekeepers would do more to eman-
cipate the world from fleshly ills than
doctors have ever done or ever can do.
Mrs. Bate makes an important point
in showing that the ignorance of wom-
en is a fatal hindrance to the introduc-
tion of many improvements by which
domestic operations could be greatly
facilitated, if only housekeepers knew
enough to make them available. An
illustration of this is just now at hand.
The use of gas-stoves for cooking is
one of the most important ameliora-
tions that have been conferred upon the
kitchen in a long time ; but, as that
realm is given over to tradition and
blind habit, but little advantage has
been taken of the improvement. Gas-
stock holders are losing their sleep for
fear Edison is going to destroy their
business, but, if the benefits to be gained
by the consumption of gas in cooking
were generally understood, there would
be but little occasion to fear from a
diminished consumption of the article.
A lady trained in the South Kensington
Cooking-School, and who has taught in
the Culinary College of Edinburgh, has
recently come to this country and giv-
en a course of demonstrative lessons in
cookery in New York. Her mode of
working has been a sort of new reve-
lation to the large class of ladies wliich
has attended ber instructions. Cook-
ing has liitherto been associated with

dingy kitchens and fiery ranges that
evoked the free perspiration of the at-
tendant ; but Miss Dods uses a gas-
stove, and does her work so neatly that
it might be carried on in a parlor. In
the dozen lessons she gave, scores of
dishes of all kinds were prepared rapid-
ly by the use of gas, and that they were
well made was suflQciently evinced by
the eagerness of the ladies to purchase
them at tlie close of each lecture. To
a curious inquirer she said, that in her
jjractical demonstrations she had cooked
by gas alone for years in preparing hun-
dreds of dishes of a great variety in
teaching. This is but one example, of
which many might be cited, showing
how people suffer in their domestic life
because women are not properly in-
structed in the principles of practical
household art, and in the resources that
might be commanded for its improve-
ment.

LITERARY NOTICES.

The Bible of To-day : A Course of Lect-
ures by Rev. John W. Chadwick.
New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons. Pp.
304. Price, $1.50.

On a subject of profound interest
throughout Christendom, and upon which
there is great discordance of opinion, cou-
pled with intense feeling, Mr. Chad wick has
produced an independent and instructive
work, which is at the same time both rev-
erent and rational.

The more liberal and catholic spirit of
modern inquiry is undoubtedly due to the
influence of science, which reaches far be-
yond the field of physical experiment. The
attacks upon the Bible by the skeptics of
the last century were made in the spirit of
the age, which was polemical and disputa-
tious, as it had been from the middle ages.
Discussion was filled with the irritations,
acerbities, bitterness, and the rancors of
personal controversy. The Bible was argued
over much like a party at the bar of our
courts by the lawyers, one of whom wishes
to set him free and the other to get him
hanged. The Bible was attacked, as it was

LITERARY NOTICES.

397

defended, and in spirit the skeptics were as
much theologians as their opponents. But
science has very much changed all this, and
what was long an exasperating controver-
sy is now becoming a quiet and rational in-
vestigation. While in the disputatious era
it was maintained, ou the one side, that the
Bible is an exceptional and supernatural
book — the plenary inspiration of God, and
all its parts perfect and infallible — on the
other hand, it was asserted to be a fabrica-
tion and an imposture. We have now pret-
ty much passed out of that phase, and en-
tered into the phase of calm and critical
inquiry as to the origin and history of the
various books which appeared at different
times, and were at length collected to form
the Christian Scriptures. The inquiry should
be candid and dispassionate, but conducted
with inexorable reference simply to the es-
tablishment of truth.

Much has been done in recent years, by
scholars of various countries, to throw light
on the historic origin of the Biblical books,
and Mr. Chadwick has done the public an
invaluable service in presenting, in a com-
pendious form, the main results of this most
interesting research. Of his treatment of
the subject the author says :

"My object is to condense into a single vol-
ume, modest in size and cost, the principal re-
enltsofthe best tiistorical and scientific criti-
cism of ihe separate books of the Bible, and of
their mutual relations. I am not aware of any
other volume which has made exactly this at- i
tempt, and it is high time that somebody should
make it. The truth of these results, if truth it
be, is scattered up and down through scores of
volumes, which few public libraries, even in our
great cities, have upon their shelves, and which
it would cost the individual reader hundreds of
dollars to procure. Nevertheless, I shall be dis-
appointed if one effect of these lectures is not
to impel the reader to procure for himself some
of the books which I have found most helpful
and inspiring. Much, however, that has been
written is not only costly and inaccessible, but
is BO laboriously and minutely critical in its
form as to repel the ave-rage reader. I dare not
hope that my own treatment will be entertain-
ing, but for bu?y men and women I trust it will
have some advantage over that of the great Bib-
lical scholars in that it is at once compact and
comprehensive."

Mr. Chadwiek's volume consists of eight
lectures, which were first delivered to his
own people in Brooklyn — four on the Old

Testament, one on the Apocrypha, and three
on the New Testament. The first is on the
Prophets, and is preceded by a brief history
of the Old Testament canon. The arrange-
ment of the lectures is intended to be sim-
ply chronological, and the prophets are con-
sidered first because it was evidently Mr.
Chadwick's idea that, with some inconsider-
able exceptions, we have in the prophets
the earliest writers of the Old Testament.
The Histories are next considered, because
these are believed to have been written, for
the most part, before the " Law."

The " Psalms and other writings " come
last, as bemg written after the " Law."
The Prophets are first taken in the order of
our common version, and the date and au-
thorship and character of each discussed.
An inquiry is instituted as to the nature of
prophetism, and reasons are assigned for
the belief that the early prophets were not
monotheists; the writing prophets of the
eighth century b. c. being probably the first
monotheists.

In his lecture on the Histories Mr.
Chadwick finds them not to be histories in
the ordinary sense of the word, but didactic
compositions. In his lecture on the Penta-
teuch Mr. Chadsvick considers it as a strati-
fied series. The oldest or bottom layer,
richest in narration, is a prophetic one, dat-
ing from the eighth century before Christ.
The next layer he designates as priestly-
prophetic, and which includes the whole of
Deuteronomy. Its date is fixed at 621 b. c.
The next and topmost layer is altogether
priestly, and includes all of Leviticus, a good
deal of Numbers, and much besides. This
upper stratum is what critics call the Book
of Onr/im, and its date is the crucial ques-
tion of Old Testament criticism. And Mr.
Chadwick, following Kuenen, assigns it to
the fifth century b. c, and 800 years after
the time of Moses. By this mode of treat-
ment he apprehends the entire history of
Israel as an evolution from a simple to a
complex worship, from the spontaneity of
prophetism to fixity and formalism, from
fetichism and Nature-worship up through
monolatry to monotheism.

In the foufth lecture these principles
are applied to the Psalms and other writings.
In regard to the Psalms, Proverbs, Eccle-
siastes, etc., the old interpretations are

398

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

thoroughly traversed. The Song of Songs is
characterized as a very noble poem, and
the earliest complete book in the Old Tes-
tament, its date being about 800 b. c.

The Apocrypha is treated as the " miss-
ing link " between the New Testament and
the Old. The apocryphal literature goes a
great way, and shows how gradual was the
evolution from Malachi to Jesus. The book
of Enoch, which only the Abyssinian canon
has retained, is further evidence of this, and
is of the first importance. We are now al-
ready in the New Testament atmosphere,
especially in that of the Apocalypse.

The sixth lecture, after a brief history
of the formation of the New Testament,
proceeds to consider the Epistles. Of the
fourteen commonly ascribed to Paul only
eight are found to be authentic — Romans,
Galatians, and Corinthians, surely so ; the
others not so certainly. From Thessalo-
nians and Philippians we have the evolution
of Paul's ideal Christ from simple manhood
to superangelic power and grace.

In the seventh lecture the Apocalypse
is assigned to the year 69 b. c. The last
lecture is on the Four Gospels, and Matthew
is assigned to the year 100 a. d. ; Luke to
115 A. D. ; Mark to 120 a. d. ; and John to
140 a. d. ; these dates are, however, only
approximate. A full chronological table,
setting forth the dates of all the separate
books of the Bible, is prefixed to the vol-
ume, in the shape of an analytical index.

This book represents a great amount of
labor and research, and is executed in a
manner highly creditable to the scholarship
of the author. Though following the great
authorities that have preceded him, he is
not a servile follower but an independent
student. The style of the work is spirited
and attractive, and it is inspired with a
moral earnestness and a reverent sincerity
that will commend it to all unprejudiced
and fair-minded readers.

STOCK-BREEniNG : A Practical Treatise on
the Application of the Laws of Develop-
ment and Heredity to the Improvement
and Breeding of Domestic Animals. By
Manly Miles, M. D., late Professor of
Agriculture in the Michigan State Agri-
cultural College. D. Appleton & Co.
Pp. 424. Price $1.50.

We have here a timely and valuable
manual upon a subject the practical impor-

tance of which is only equaled by its theo-
retical interest. A well-digested treatise on
the art of cultivating animals through the
control of genetic conditions has been long
needed. Upon this point the author justly
observes, " It is somewhat remarkable, in
this book-making age, that there is no sys-
tematic work accessible to the student in
which the known facts and principles of the
art of improving and breeding domestic ani-
mals are presented, in convenient form, for
study and reference, notwithstanding the
importance of live-stock to the farmer, and
the wonderful progress that has been made
in its improvement since the time of Bake-
well." The art of breeding was long pursued
empirically, and was developed by number-
'ess experiments fi-om which rules were de-
duced that, though not rationally understood,
were still sufficient to guide breeders in the
improvement of stock. Modern biology has
given greater precision to observations, has
indicated new lines of experimental research,
and has established various principles that
are of controlling utility in practice. Much
is still unsettled, and many questions remain
in profound obscurity, yet there has been
such a clearing up of old difficulties and
such an extension of positive knowledge in
this field that it is now necessary to deal
with the subject from the scientific point of
view. Dr. Miles's work is rich in the varied
facts which constitute the foundation of the
art, and which have been selected with care-
ful judgment in regard to their authenticity,
but in the classification and interpretation
of his data the author follows the scientific
method. Indeed, if a book were to be se-
lected simply to illustrate the practical fruit-
fulness of modern scientific inquiry, in one
of its most recent lines of exploration, we
are inclined to think the present volume
might well be chosen for the purpose. The
book is so full of interesting and valuable
information that we should like to trans-
fer large portions of it to our columns ;
but, as this is impossible, we must content
ourselves with quoting a few remarks from
the author's preface, indicating the main
features of his work :

" In a popular exposition of the principles of
an art that is almost exclusively based upon the
experience of practical men there is little oppor-
tunity for originality, aside from the classifica-
tion and arrangement of facts, and the infer-

LITERARY NOTICES.

399

ences, in some instances, that may be drawn
from them in explaiuing the practices -jf the
most successful breeders. It is believed that a
systematic statement of what is already known
in the practice of the art is of greater importance,
at the present lime, than any new truths, as it
must furnish the only consistent foundation for
future profjress and improvement. The numer-
ous cases that have been collected to illus-
trate the various topics under discussion have
been compiled, as far as possible, from original
sources, and presented in their original form-
preferences, in nearly all cases, being given to
the works from which they are quoted. This
feature of the work will be of interest to the
student who wishes to study the subject in great-
er detail, as it will, to some extent, serve as an
index to authorities that may be profitably con-
sulted. In the limits of a popular work it is of
course impossible to treat each topic exhaus-
tively, and the attempt has been made to present
only such an outline of the principles of the art
as would be required in a text-book for students,
or a work of reference for farmers."

Outlines of Ontological Science ; or, A
Philosophy op Knowledge and of Be-
ing. Ry Henry N. Day, author of
"Psychology," " Logic," " Ethics," etc.
New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons. Pp.
441. Price, $1.75,

The present work is an attempt to grap-
ple with the profoundest problems of phi-
losophy by determining the nature and lim-
its of genuine knowledge, and to determine
the relations and interdependences of its sev-
eral parts. The author claims for his book
nothing of novelty in its design, but alleges,
as a reason for undertaking it, that " the
recent rapid developments of science, both
mental and physical, with their widely-diver-
sified results, seem to invite a fresh endeavor
in this direction, as they furnish new facili-
ties and helps for prosecuting it." As might
be expected from the point of view here
taken, modern scientific and philosophical
ideas are brought under review and esti-
mated, the result being, as we gather from
the writer, that fundamental questions of
speculative inquiry have not been much dis-
turbed by modern research. In his last
chapter on " Cosmogony " the author takes
up the doctrine of evolution, which he says is
philosophically " mere hypothesis," " irrec-
oncilable with facts claimed to be ascer-
tained by science," " repugnant to reason,"
and " as a theory of causal agency in the
cosmos is a failure."

Life in Other Worlds : including a Brief
Statement of the Origin and Progress of
Life in our World. By Adam Miller,
M. D. With an Appendix of Three Ser-
mons by Rev. H. W. Thomas, D. D.
Chicago": Fox, Cole & Co. Pp. 282,
Price, 11,50,

A BOOK of multifarious speculations, theo-
logical, historical, moral, astronomical, and
physical. The author says that it was orig-
inally written with no intention of publica-
tion, but he got so much comfort out of the
contemplations it embodies that he was im-
pelled to print it. He remarks, " With a
hope that some one who will read these
pages will find encouragement for a union in
the great future with friends that have gone
before, as well as for an acquaintance with the
millions of happy spirits who have passed
through the vale of sorrow to their final
home, I submit this work to a generous pub-
lic." Our attention has been especially called
to the author's three chapters on " Solar
Light and Heat," in which he differs from
the ideas that men of science are in the
habit of taking. The cause of solar heat he
holds to be the refraction of light, and says :
" The atmosphere that surrounds our earth
is in the form of a concavo-convex lens.
The aqueous vapor in the upper regions of
the atmosphere is intensely cold, yet, acting
on the rays of light like a cold-water lens,
produces heat ; and here is the secret of solar
temperature on the earth, and the change in
temperature is caused by the varying angles
at which the solar rays strike the atmos-
phere. I repeat, it cannot be denied that
refraction of the rays of light will produce
heat. The heat at the focus of a 32-inch
lens exceeds almost every kind and intensity
of heat known to terrestrial chemistry.
Again, it cannot be denied that the earth's
atmosphere is a refracting medium, and that
as such it is capable of producing heat from
rays of light."

The book is printed on tinted paper, and
contains a portrait of the author.

Filtration of Potable Water. By Prof,
William Ripley Nichols. From Mas-
sachusetts Health Reports, 1878. Pp,
90,

The author of this valuable report con-
siders the subject of filtration under the three
heads of " Artificial Filtration on the Large

LCO

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Scale," " Natural Filtration," and " House-
hold Filtration." Tlie two former sections
will be read with interest by the civil and
sanitary engineer ; the last, that on " House-
hold Filtration," directly concerns every fam-
ily in the land. Too often the quality of
water supplied to the inhabitants of our
cities is truly described as in the following
reply to a letter of inquiry: "When the
river is clear we have clear water ; when
the river is muddy we have muddy water."
Such a state of things necessitates the use
of domestic filters, many different forms of
which are described and criticised by Dr.
Nichols.

The Old House altered. By G. C. Ma-
son, Architect. With Illustrations. New
York : G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1878. Pp.
185. Price, $2.50.

The problem here considered is one that
is every day arising for solution — how to
modernize and beautify an old house. In a
series of chapters which take the form of
familiar letters the author first describes
the original form of an old mansion ; then
details the changes in its internal arrange-
ment and in its exterior, necessitated by
the requirements of modern life and of
modem culture ; finally, he tells us how these
changes have been made. Nor does Mr. Ma-
son restrict himself to the consideration of
the purely architectural aspects of the prob-
lem, for the old mansion had to be trans-
formed not only in itself, but also in its
fittings and furniture. There is room for
difference of opinion as to the desirability
of such transformations, and most persons*
would perhaps think it the better way to pull
down and build anew ; but, if regard for an
old house interferes to prevent its demoli-
tion, our author's plan of transforming and
modernizing it will deserve to be considered.

Goethe's Faust. Erstek Theil. With In-
troduction and Notes by James Morgan
Hart. New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons,
1878. Pp. 286. Price, $1.25.

The first part of " Faust " forms Vol. lY.
of Prof. Hart's series of" German Classics."
The English student of German will derive
from the editor's very brief grammatical and
critical notes, and from his learned intro-
duction, material aid in overcoming the dif-
ficulties of the text.

Practical Chemistry for Medical Stu-
dents. By M. M. Pattison Muir. Lou-
don and New York : Macmillan & Co.,
1878. Pp. 64. Price, 60 cents.

The medical student will here find pre-
cisely that measure of information in pi-ac-
tical chemistry which is absclutely indispen-
sable for him to possess. The author's ob-
ject is in no wise to "cram" the student
for examination-day, but to put him in pos-
session of a few chemical principles, and to
famiharize him with certain chemical pro-
cesses, without which he cannot hope for
success in his chosen profession.

The Blessed Bees. By John Allen. New
York : G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1878. Pp.
169. Price, $1.

Under this quaint title, Mr. Allen pub-
lishes the record of a year's experience and
results in bee-keeping. Persons who may
be thinking of engaging in that pursuit will
doubtless learn much from this Httle book.
Bee-keeping, by modern methods, the author
informs us in the preface, is an art just as
much as growing wheat or fruit or stock ;
the profits which may be gained from it are
just as certain as the profits from any other
branch of rural labor, and are much larger.

The Relative Proportions of the Steam-
Engine. By William D. Marks. Phila-
delphia: Lippincott, 1878. Pp. 161.
Price, $1.50.

A long-felt want is here supplied, viz.,
simple, practical formula? for the determina-
tion of the relative proportions of the com-
ponent parts of the steam-engine. Rankine
appears to be the only author in English
who has attempted to do this ; but his treat-
ment of the subject is so brief as to be
obscure. The present work is therefore a
very welcome contribution to the science of
the steam-engine.

Flower-Painting. By Mrs. William Duf-

FIELD. New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons,
1878. Pp. 46. Price, 50 cents.
The fact that this handbook of flower-
painting has already passed through twelve
editions in England speaks well for its pop-
ular character. Like all the volumes of the
series of " Art Handbooks " to which it be-
longs, it is a model of tasteful book-making.

LITERARY NOTICES.

401

The Railway in its Relation to Public
AND Private Interests. Bv Simon
Sterne. New York, 1878. Press of
the Chamber of Commerce. Pp. 38.

Mr. Sterne advocates governmental con-
trol of the railway lines. The cry that this
is "centralization" does not frighten him,
because " whether centralization is objec-
tionable depends upon whether it is good
or bad, and whether it supersedes a better
or a worse system." And he quotes with
approval the remarks made by Burke : " If
I am not able to correct a system of oppres-
sion and tyranny that goes to the utter ruin
of 30,000,000 of my fellow-creatures, but by
some increase of the influence of the crown,
I am ready here to declare that I, who have
been active to reduce it, shall be as active
and strenuous to restore it again. I am no
lover of names ; I contend for the substance
of good and protecting government, let it
come from what quarter it will."

Golden Songs of Great Poets. Illustrated
by Darley, Moran, Hart, Fredericks,
Smillie, and McEntee. New York :
Sarah H. Leggett. Price, $5.

Few books have fallen into our hands
having a more distinguished paternity than
this one. It contains six poems, not else-
where published, from six of the leading
American poets of the century, and its
pages are embellished with thirty-six beau-
tiful illustrations, by artists of scarcely in-
ferior rank. Holmes contributes the intro-
duction, " On the Threshold ; " Bryant fol-
lows with a pleasant bit of Nature entitled
" The Song Sparrow ; " and Longfellow
writes of what he is supposed to know most
about, " The Poets." "June on the Merri-
mac," by Whittier, is a gem well worth the
price of the book, and there follows Lowell
on " The Fire-Fly," and Bayard Taylor on
"The Lost Caryatid" The printer and
binder have done their share of the work in
befitting style, making the volume, taken
altogether, one of the handsomest and most
interesting holiday books we have seen.

Geology OF Wisconsin. Vol.11. Madison:
Published by the Commissioners of Pub-
lic Printing, 1877. Pp. 797.
Though this volume is numbered II., it

is in fact the first of the series in the order

of publication, and Vol. I. is yet to follow.

Tlie reason of this reversal of the logical
VOL. XIT. — 26

sequence is that, while the matter belonging
to Vol. II. is completed, that which of right
belongs to Vol. I. has to await the comple-
tion of the survey. The volume, which, by-
the-way, is highly creditable to Wisconsin
lithography and typography, consists of four
parts, viz. : Part I., containing the annual
reports for 1873, 1874, and 1875, now first
published. During the two former years,
the survey was under the general direction
of Dr. Increase A. Lapham, and during the
last year under Dr. 0. W. Wight. Part II.
treats of the geology of Eastern Wisconsin,
and is written by the geologist-in-chief, Mr.
T. C. Chamberlin. Part III., by Roland D.
Irving, treats of the geology of Central Wis-
consin. Finally, Part IV., on the " Geology
and Topography of the Lead-Region," is by
Moses Strong. Accompanying the volume
is a set of maps, fourteen in number. Nu-
merous colored and plain lithographic plates
and wood-engravings serve to embellish the
volume and to illustrate the text.

First Annual Report of the United States
Entomological Commission, for the Year
1877, relating to the Rocky Mountain
Locust. With Maps and Illustrations.
Washington : Government Printing-Of-
fice, 1878. Pp. 787.

The vast fund of information acquired
by the Entomological Commission during
the first year of its labors is in this report
laid before the agricultural population of
the States and Territories exposed to the
locust-plague. The commissioners, Messrs.
Riley, Packard, and Thomas, justly con-
gratulate themselves on the success which
has attended their efforts to determine cer-
tain cardinal points touching the origin and
distribution of the Rocky Mountain locust —
its breeding-grounds, geographical range,
migrations, habits and natural history, the
means of checking its ravages, etc. Much,
indeed, has been done toward accomplish-
ing the purpose for which the commission
was appointed ; but still more remains to
be done, both in the way of research and,
above all, in the way of applying on the
large scale the remedies and devices for ex-
terminating the locust which are here ex-
plained. " Further surveys need to be made
of the permanent breeding-grounds in the
Northwestern Territories ; more facts are
needed to perfect our knowledge of the mi-

402

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

gratioDS in this area ; the cooperation of our
Government with Canada is needed to work
up the subject properly in the locust-region
north of the United States boundary-line ;
and some other problems remain to be
solved." This done, it is hoped that it will
be "possible at least to greatly modify or
lessen these invasions, and diminish the
losses resulting therefrom. If not entirely
prevent them."

Dangers from Color-Blindness in Rail-
road Employees and Pilots. By B. j
Joy Jeffries, M. D. Pp. 40. Incura- [
bility op Congenital ColorBlind- '
NESS. Pp. 8. Color-Blindness and its I
Practical Relations. Pp. 4. Same _au-
thor. Boston : Rand, Avery & Co. print. ,

The very title of the first of the above- i
named pubUcations will win for it the ear. j
nest attention of ihe public. The dangers
from the color-blindness of railroad-men and
pilots are obvious, and it is time that effi-
cient measures should be taken to obviate
them. The Massachusetts Board of Health
is to be highly commended for having pro-
cured the publication of Dr. Jeffries's ob-
servations on this subject.

Elementary Course of Geometrical Draw-
ing. ByG. L.VosE. Illustrated by ^38
Plates. Boston : Lee & Shepard, 1878.
Price, $5.

This course is designed to meet the
wants of the lower classes in engineering
schools ; it will also be of service to those
who wish to pursue this branch of study by
themselves. The system here followed has
been subjected for many years to the test
of practical experience in the class of civil
engineering in Bowdoin College.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

Report of the Chief Signal -Officer for the
Year 1877. With numerou? Charts. Washing-
ton : Government Printing-Offlce. 1877. I p. 5(0.

A Face illumined. By E. P. Roe. New York :
Dodd, Mead & Co. Pp. 658. $1.50.

Report of the Board of Regents of the Smith-
sonian Institution for the Year 1877. Washing-
ton : Government Printing-Offlce. 1878. Pp.
500.

The Telegraph in America. By James D.
Reid. With numerous Portraits. New York :
Derby Brothers. 1878. Pp.846. $6.

The Races of European Turkey. By Edson
L Clark. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co. 1878.
Pp. .538. $3.

Daily Bulletin of Weather-Reporis for Janu-
ary, Fehruarv, and March, 1877. Washington :
Government Printing-Offlce. 1878.

First Quarter Century of the Home Insurance
Company Newlork: Printed by order of the
Boarl 1878. Pp.80.

Astronomy. Bv R. S. Ball. New York : Holt
ACo". 1873. Pp.107. 60 cents.

Science News. Published fortnightly by S.
E. Cassino, Salem, Mass. Vol. I., No. 1. Pp. 16.
$2 per annum.

Geoloo-ical and Natural History Survey of
Minnesota. Report for the Year 1877. Minne-
apolis : Johnson, Smith & Harrison. 1878. Pp.
225.

Third Annual Report of the Johns Hopkins
University. Baltimore : Murphy print. 1878.

Annual Report on the Operations of the De-
partment of the Interior for the Year ending
June 30, 1878. Washinu;ton : Government Pnut-
ing-Offlce. Pp. 48.

An Essay on Free Trade. By Richard Haw-
ley. New York : Putnam's Sons. 18i8. Pp. bd-
25 cents.

Dissipation of Electricity in Gases. By De-
metrieff Bobonlieff. From the Amcncan Jour-
nal of Science and Arts. Pp. 13.

Report of the New York Association for im-
proving the Condition of the Poor. Pp. 64.

Laws affecting Tenement and Lodging
Houses in New York and Brooklyn. Printed by
the Association. Pp. 11-

Constituents of Climate, with Special Refer-
ence to Florida. By F. D. Lenie M. D. Louis-
ville, Kentucky: Bichmond and Louisville Meai-
cal Journal priut. Pp.56.

On the Genealogy of Plants. By Lester F.
Ward. Pp.378.

Report of the Survey of the Northern and
Northwestern Lakes and the Mississippi River,
in Charge of C. B. Comstock and M. H. Adams.
Washington : Government Printii.g;pfflce. From
Report Sf Chief of Engineers. 1877. Pp.100.

Catalogue of the Iron Age Library. New
York: David Williams. Pp.50.

General Vaccination throughout the Country.
By Elisha Harris. Pp. 16. Records ot Deaths
and Causes of Death, ^.a^e author Pp. 16.
From Papers of the American Public Health Aa-
sociatiou. Cambridge : Riverside press. 1877.
Art Anatomy. By A. J. Howe, M.D. Pp.23.
Note on Cladocera. By Edward A. Birge, Ph.
D. With Plates. Pp. 34.

A Collection from the Ancient Cemetery at
the Bay of Chacota, Peru. By John H. Blake.
Pruited at the Salem press. Pp. 304.

The Halifax Fishery Award. By Alexander
Bliss. Washington : Beresford prmt. 18(8. Pp.

24. ^ ^

American Jurassic Dinosaurs. By O. C.
Marsh. With Plates. Reprinted from ^ffimca?t
Journal of Science. Pp. 6.

Evolution of Character. By J. L D. Hands.
Nashville, Tennessee : Ligon & Co. print, f p.
11. ^ .-

Air and Moisture on Shipboard. By T. J.
Turner, M. D. Pp. 16.

Chemical Constitution of the Atmosphere.
By Albert R. Leeds, Ph. D. From Annals of New
York Academy of Sciences. Pp. 27.

Eradication of Syphilis and Crime By George
F. French, M. D. Portland, Maine : Berry prmt.

Conservation of Force. By Thos H M^gjc^j.
Mexico, Missouri : Unionprint. 18(8- Pp- 5b.

The Amateur's Handbook of Practical In-
formation for the Workshop and Laboratory.
New York : The Industrial Pubhcation Co. 18 18.
Pp. 44. 10 cents.

Natural Succession of the Dicotyledons. By
Lester F. Ward. From the Ame7ican J\atu7'al-
ist. Pp.11.

POPULAR MISCELLANY,

403

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

What Medicine owes to Galileo. — In a

lecture on the history of instruments of pre-
cision in medicine, a synopsis of which is
published in the Medical Record, Dr. S.
Weir Mitchell gives to Galileo Galilei the
credit of having contrived the first instru-
ment of this kind, viz., the pulsilogon. De-
siring to apply some test of the regularity
of the swing of the lamp-pendulum in the
Pisa cathedral, he is said to have used that
most wonderful of clocks, the pulse, for that
purpose. This was a grave moment in the
history of medicine — "the birth of pre-
cision," says Dr. Mitchell. From this use
of the pulse as a test of the regularity of
the pendulum he was led to use the pendu-
lum as a measure of pulse-rate — thus mak-
ing the pendulum a pulsilogon. The method
of using it was most ingenious. Having al-
ways a pendulum of equal weight, he set it
swinging, and then shortened or lengthened
the string until the beats corresponded with
those of the patient's pulse. Then he meas-
ured the length of the string, and one per-
son's pulse would be represented arbitrarily
but most precisely by say ten inches, an-
other's by eight inches, and so on. Galileo
seems to have given little thought to the
perfection of this instrument, and does not
speak in any of his essays of the medical
use of the pendulum. Many years later
Sanctorius described an instrument for meas-
uring the pulse which was in no respect
different from that of Galileo, and which
was called by the same name — pulsilogon.

Plaut-Respiration. — From experiments
made by Mr. J. Jamieson, and published in
Nature, it would appear that fresh sections
of many fruits and other vegetable struct-
ures, as potato, give the. characteristic re-
actions of ozone, viz., causing separation
of iodine from iodide of potassium, and
turning tincture of guaiacum blue, the in-
tensity of the reactions depending mainly
on the comparative freshness of the fruits
and vegetables. Mr. Jamieson further finds
that these structures contain a substance
which acts as an ozone-carrier, or Ozon-
trdger, to use Schonbein's expression, a
substance which transfers ozone from hy-
drogen-peroxide, and similar bodies. This

is shown by the fact that, if the guaiacum
is not blued at all, or only slightly, the blue
color becomes very marked when a drop
of ethereal solution of hydrogen-peroxide is
added. From these observations the author
infers — 1. That the oxygen inhaled by liv-
ing plants, and even by pulled fruits, for a
time is ozonized, probably by entering into
loose combination, as is the case with oxy-
gen in the blood of animals ; and, 2. That
it is probable that the ozone-transferring
substance existing in almost every fresh
vegetable structure is that with which it is
loosely combined, as the oxygen in the
blood is with the haemoglobin of the red
corpuscles. This element in plants is grad-
ually destroyed as decay comes on, and
ceases to perform its ozone-transferring
function when the fruit, etc., containing it
is cooked. It is not chlorophyl, as is
shown by its situation, and it seems to be
intimately associated with the vascular
tissue. From analogy with the animal sub-
stances, haemoglobin, fibrin, myosin, etc.,
which have a similar action, it may be pre-
sumed to be proteinaceous, though the au-
thor is unable more exactly to indicate its
chemical and other characters.

Growth of Mining Engineering In the
United States. — Thirty years ago the pro-
fession of the mining engineer was almost
unknown in the United States ; to-day the
American Institute of Mining Engineers
numbers over 700 members. The state of
things which existed thirty years ago. will
be understood from the following passage,
which we take from Mr. E. B. Coxe's presi-
dential address to the members of the In-
stitute at its last meeting: "Of the few we
then had worthy of the name of ' mining
engineer,' some studied in the Continental
academies, and others were graduates in
the school of practical experience, and had
learned their profession in mines and smelt-
ing-works. Their work consisted princi-
pally in making surveys and maps of mines
and mining properties, geological reports,
and analyses of ores ; but the mining engi-
neer, whom we often meet with now, who
has studied chemistry, physics, mineralogy,
geology, mechanics, and drawing ; who is
more or less familiar with machinery and
its construction, and with the practical

404

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

management of mines or smelting-works,
and who is an expert in some one branch of
his profession — would have been very diffi-
cult if not impossible to find in the United
States. The inducements held out to am-
bitious and talented young men to enter
the profession were, it must be admitted,
very small. By a large portion of the com-
munity, a mining engineer was considered
to be merely a bait with which unsophisti-
cated capitalists were to be caught, and his
opinions were considered to be worth so
much a page, and to favor any view which
his employer wished to have advocated.
He was seldom consulted as to the proper
method of working a mine or running a
furnace ; he was rarely called upon by di-
rectors of works, except for extraordinary
work, such as to give the direction in which
a timoel should be driven, or to analyze a
new ore or limestone. There was no rec-
ognized standard in the profession, and
there were great openings for miprincipled
adventurers, of which many charlatans took
advantage. Up to within fifteen years, min-
ing engineers were too often regarded by
those who had dealings with them with
great distrust, and well-educated persons
may yet be found who have no idea what a
mining engineer is, nor what he is called
upon to undertake. This feeling is, how-
ever, wearing away. We now have mining
engineers whose names are as well known
abroad as at home ; whose opinions are re-
spected and paid for, although, I am proud
to say, they cannot be bought. We have
schools whose graduates are well qualified
to enter the ranks of the profession when
they have obtained the proper practical ex-
perience ; and there are few parts of the
country without mining engineers of estab-
lished reputation, unless, in consequence of
the peculiar condition of the locality, there
is no need of their services."

Studies of a Mnmmy. — Mr. Frank Buck-
land, having received from a friend who had
been visiting Egypt a mummy-head, set
about examining the curiosity, with what
results he informs us through the columns
of Land and Water. From the general con-
tour of the head he infers that it is that of
a woman. The actual features cannot be
seen, being covered with a sort of mask of

linen cloth. Underneath this can be dis-
cerned the outlines of the face ; the pu-
pils of the eyes are marked with a black
spot. The mummy wears a wig ! Mr. Buck-
land found the whole head covered with
what at first appeared to be rolls of hair,
but which turned out to be an imitation of
hair. The rows forming this wig are ar-
rayed in three tiers, overlapping each other.
The lowest tier begins from the top of the
ear, and runs almost straight across the
forehead ; it is not unlike the fashion of
hair worn by some ladies of the present
day. " To try the efiect," adds Mr. Buck-
land, " I put a modern, smartly-trimmed hat
on the head of this Egyptian lady. I see
that the fringe of hair is the same as the
fringe of the present time. On the whole,
there is a little more chic about it." Having
washed one side of the mummy's face with
warm water and a sponge, and again put on
a modern hat, he was more convinced than
ever that the head is that of a lady — " very
good-natured and smiling."

Effects of English Rule in India.— Mr.

C. Macnamara, surgeon to the Westminster
Hospital, London, was for twenty years en-
gaged in practice in India, and during that
time had every opportunity of learning the
feelings and opinions of the natives regard-
ing the present state of things in that coun-
try. According to Mr. Macnamara, the deep
and growing conviction of many of them is
that, although England has in India pre-
served many millions of human beings from
the calamities of anarchy and chronic war-
fare, nevertheless native society is becoming
rapidly disorganized. A vast number of the
old families have disappeared ; the mothers
and wives of the rising generation see their
educated sons and husbands given over to
vices formerly never heard of, utterly heed-
less of family or any other ties, and they
contrast all this with times past, when there
was not so much law, education, or taxa-
tion, but when the greatest stain that could
be cast on a man's name was that of being
an undutiful son. In Mr. Macnamara's opin-
ion all this results from " purely secular edu-
cation." The rising generation of educated
Hindoos break away from the native religion,
entirely ignore the existence of a God, and
live absolutely for self. " The outcome of a

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY.

405

purely secular education," writes Mr. Mac-
namara, " is gross materialism and rank so-
cialism. Hence the necessity of suppressing
the vernacular press, a measure calculated,
it may be, to smother for a period one of
the many outlets by means of which Euro-
peans had an opportunity of ascertaining
the state of feeling among the natives of
the country, and which [«ic] I fear will too
certainly burst forth in an insurrection in
comparison with which the mutiny was a
mere brawl."

Our Parks. — In a recent paper on " Our
Parks," read before the New York Acad-
emy of Sciences, Dr. E. Seguin vigorously
protests against the policy that is rapidly
surrendering the Battery to commercial
uses, and destroying its value for esthetic
and health-giving purposes. The beautiful
view of the harbor which the Battery once
afforded is gradually being narrowed: to
the west by Castle Garden, formerly a sim-
ple terrace — a lookout, now an immigrant-
shed ; toward the east six buildings form an
immense barrier, behind which none would
suspect how near the ocean displayed its
ever-changing scenes ; from the sea the city
looks as if inclosed by barracks, from the
land it is the sea that appears to be im-
prisoned. The little space for an outlook
remaining is now threatened with invasion
by Government buildings, the city consent-
ing with offers of additional land if required.
A total obstruction of the view will follow
next, completing the severance of the city
from the bay, and presenting the shocking
contrast of a harbor unequaled in grandeur
leading up to a row of barracks on the
water-front — no monuments in view, the
ocean-breeze shut out, all perspective de-
stroyed ; the whole scene a violence to the
eye and an humiliation to patriotic pride.

Preceded by the destruction of St. John's
Park, and the attempt of last year to ruin
the Washington play-ground, Dr. Seguin
regards this as a third plot against the best
interests of the city, coolly set to execution
for no apparent purpose save the destruc-
tion of what is both a health resort and a
powerful educating agency for the children
and youth of the metropolis ; and thus
blunting the sense of the beautiful by cut-
ting them off from the enjoyment of the

natural scenery of which New York, above

all other cities, is the fortunate possessor.

All right thinking people will agree with
Dr. Seguin that an exactly opposite policy
should be adopted and carried out by the
municipal authorities. This whole shore
up to its original limits should be thrown
open to the bay, and made to present to
the stranger the noble face of a great city,
the hospitable welcome of a great nation.
It should be made an entrance of honor for
distinguished guests, where the greetings of
a cultured people could not be drowned by
the rush and turmoil of trade. It should
be rescued from its present and prospec-
tive degradation, and, by a wise combina-
tion of Nature with art, converted into a
school for the millions that in future gen-
erations would make it a resort. To this
end says Dr. Seguin : " The waves of the
bay should be made to expire in marble
basins, fronting the widened entrance to
Broadway, perceptible through the trees.
Where the land and water meet the vegeta-
tion, transformed from terrestrial to aquatic,
may extend from the shore to the reefs be-
yond, and here also could be established
subterranean aquaria, whose population
might be made more varied and rich in the
life of the sea than that which now delights
and instructs the visitors at Brighton."
Dr. Seguin gave several interesting illustra-
tions of the great influence exerted by early
impressions in shaping the future of the
individual, and contended that every oppor-
tunity should be seized to make ^ch im-
pressions contribute to elevation of charac-
ter, and to the encouragement of noble
aims. He also called attention to the ad-
vantages that would follow the union of
outdoor with indoor teaching by what he
terms the mobilization of the schools.

The Lifcht of the Son's Corona.— Before

the occurrence of the solar eclipse of 1878,
Mr. W. T. Sampson, U. S. N., made elabo-
rate preparations for studying minutely the
corona's spectrum, with the sole view of
deciding, by the absence or the presence in
it of dark lines, whether the light is reflected
sunlight, whether it is due to the self-lu-
minous matter of the corona, or whether it
is due to both of these causes combined.
In the American Journal of Science he

4o6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

describes the instruments used for this
research, and the manner in which they
were employed. His conclusion is that, in-
asmuch as he failed to see in the corona
spectrum the dark lines of the sun's spec-
trum, therefore the light of the corona is
not all reflected light. The considerations
which confirm him in this conclusion he
states as follows : " Until this eclipse no
observer has ever seen the dark lines in the
spectrum of the corona except M. Janssen^
who reported dark lines, notably D in 18*71,
but much more difficult to see than the
bright lines. Several observers during the
recent eclipse failed to see the dark lines,
though they looked for them carefully.
While I do not question the results of ob-
servers who report the presence of dark
lines, I think all the observations taken to-
gether show that the continuous spectrum
of the corona is not the spectrum of the
sun. Aside from this, Prof. Arthur W.
Wright made measurements of the polari-
zation of the light of the corona, the first
time, I think, it has been attempted, aad
has found the polarization to be but a small
percentage of the whole Hght emitted. Al-
though all reflected light does not reach us
as polarized light, yet I think the small per-
centage of polarization, taken with the faint-
ness of the dark lines, indicates that the co-
rona is, to a considerable extent, self-lumi-
nous. The meteoric dust not only reflects
the sun's light, but it is continually shower-
ing upon the sun, and in its passage through
the atmosphere is rendered incandescent."

Investigating the Cotton-Worm.— Prof

A. R. Grote is at present visiting the cotton-
growing States for the purpose of studying
there the habits of the cotton-worm, and
more particularly of determining whether
the fly from which it comes is acclimated
in those States, or whether it is annually
imported. The latter opinion, as our read-
ers are aware, is the one held by Prof
Grote, and it appears to be confirmed by
this later investigation. According to his
theory, the fly comes from the West Indies
with the south winds every year. Having
reached our cotton-producing States it there
raises its first brood. The eggs are depos-
ited on the under side of the cotton-plant
leaf In about three weeks the young worm

" webs up " and becomes a black chrysalis
in a thin cotton-cocoon within a fold of the
leaf, and in due time the perfect insect
emerges. This new fly, born in the South,
moves in a general northerly direction, and
in this way the country is overrun by the
several ensuing broods. If the worm ap-
pears while yet the plant is young, the
planter can exterminate it by the use of
poison ; but if it comes late it will not do
harm enough to warrant much expense in
killing it. Paris-green in a liquid form, or
dilute carbolic acid, kills the worm when
applied to the under side of the leaf as spray.
Care must be taken to keep these poisons
from the seed-cotton, and they should only
be employed against the first brood of worms
*before the bolls open.

An Eastern Fish-Story. — A series of in-
teresting letters is now appearing in Land
and Water, entitled " Recollections of Bang-
kok," and in one of them a good descrip-
tion is given of the mode of capturing in-
sect prey, followed by a species of " archer
fishes," several specimens of which are kept
in a small pond in the grounds attached to
the palace of the " Second King '* of Siam,
It is much to be regretted that the author
neither describes these fishes nor notes any
particulars by which the species might be
determined. Our readers will find in the
Monthly for January, 18*78, an illustrated
paper on " Archer-Fishes." When the
writer in Land and Water came to the
pond its finny inhabitants were found to be
in a high state of excitement, the cause of
which was soon evident. " A small branch
covered Avith black ants had been picked
by one of the attendants off one of the over-
hanging trees ; and, holding this a few feet
over the pond, volleys of minute globules
of water were directed at it from the mouths
of all the little fishes crowded underneath.
This was continued until all the ants were
knocked off into the water. Then ensued a
scramble for the prey. Any small insect
within their range met the same fate, and
they shot with the most unerring aim. As
I stood watching the curious sight, close to
the edge of the pond, a small fly lighted on
my hand, but was hardly seated before a
volley of watery bullets knocked him off his
perch, though at a range of four or five feet.

NOTES.

407

These little fishes are, I believe, only known
in some parts of Siam and Burmah ; they
are small, not more than six or seven inches,
and in shape like a smelt. I am not aware
that I have ever seen any description of
them."

"Are the Elements elementary?" — Mr.

Norman Lockyer has realized the alche-
mist's dream, the transmutation of metals.
In the presence of a small party of scien-
tific men, Mr. Lockyer, by the aid of a pow-
erful voltaic current, volatilized copper
within a glass tube, dissolved the deposit
formed within the tube in hydrochloric acid,
and then showed, by means of the spectro-
scope, that the solution contained no longer
copper, but another metal, calcium, the base
of ordinary lime. The experiment was re-
peated with other metals and with corre-
sponding results. Nickel was thus changed
into cobalt, and calcium into strontium. All
these bodies, as is well known, have ever
been regarded as elementary — that is, as in-
capable of being resolved into any compo-
nents, or of being changed one into another.
It is on this basis that all modern chemistry
is founded, and, should Mr. Lockyer's dis-
covery bear the test of further trial, our
entire system of chemistry will require re-
vision. The future possibilities of the dis-
covery it is difficult to limit. The great ob-
ject of the old alchemists was, of course, to
transmute base metals into gold, and so far
as our knowledge goes there is no reason
why copper should not be changed into gold
as well as into calcium. The means at pres-
ent employed are obviously such as to ren-
der the process far more costly than any
possible results can be worth ; but this is
necessarily the case with most scientific dis-
coveries before they are turned into com-
mercial facts. Mr. Lockyer is one of our
best living spectroscopists, and no man with
a reputation such as his would risk the pub-
lication of so startling a fact as he has just
announced to the scientific world without
the very surest grounds. He is known by
his friends as somewhat sanguine, and he
does not pretend to be an accomplished
chemist, but he was supported yesterday by
some of our leading chemists, all of whom
admitted that the results of his experiments
were inexplicable on any other grounds but
those admitting of the change of one ele-

ment into another, unless indeed our whole
system of spectrum analysis is to be upset,
the other horn of a very awkward dilemma.
Since a hundred years ago Priestley discov-
ered oxygen and founded modern chemistry
there has been — there could be — no discov-
ery made which would have such an effect
on modern science as that the so-called ele-
ments were no longer to be considered ele-
mentary.— London Daily News.

NOTES.

A GOLD medal has been awarded to Mr.
Edward R. Andrews, of Boston, for his ex-
hibit of creosoted wood at the Exhibition
of the Mechanics' Charitable Association in
Boston. The article on the Teredo ncwalis,
by Prof, von Baumhauer, in the August and
September numbers of this journal, was
translated by Mr. Andrews. This paper
explains the merits of creosote-oil in pro-
tecting timber from destruction by marine
worms and insects.

Concerning the manner of Mr. Thomas
Belt's death, the American Journal of Sci-
ence has the following information : "About
two weeks previous to his death Mr. Belt
had shown signs of insanity, and it was
thought best to remove him to New York.
Mr. Silas Lloyd, who had for a short time
been associated with him, accompanied him.
Just before arriving at Kansas City, Mr.
Lloyd had occasion to leave him for a few
minutes. On returning, he found the door
locked. Mr. Belt refused to let him in. and
commenced a furious onslaught on furni-
ture and car. Parties crawled through the
broken windows, and succeeded in pacifymg
him. Getting him oif the train, he was pre-
vailed upon to drink a glass of milk, and
about twenty minutes afterward be died."

A NOTE was read in a recent meeting of
the Paris Academy of Sciences, from Mr. J.
Norman Lockyer, in which the author says
that he believes he has succeeded in prov-
ing that many of the " elements " are in
reality compound bodies.

The L-on Age reports the discovery in
Franklin County, Pennsylvania, of very rich
deposits of copper, occurring in the form of
hydrous carbonate or malachite, containing
about seventy-two per cent, of copper oxide
or fifty-seven and a half per cent, of me-
tallic copper. Some of the deposits show-
even a higher percentage than this.

A MONKEY in the Alexandra Palace,
London, had a decaying tooth, and suffered
from a large abscess in the lower jaw. It

4o8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

was decided to extract the tooth, but, as
the animal was at times very vicious, it was
thought that chloroform would have to be
employed. He showed fight on being taken
out of his cage, and struggled hard against
being put into a sack, snapping and scream-
ing at the attendants. But so soon as the
dentist managed to get his hand on the ab-
scess, and so gave a little relief, the mon-
key's demeanor changed entirely : he laid
his head down quietly for examination, and
quietly submitted to the removal of a stump
and a tooth.

In a series of experiments undertaken
with a view to discover an efiective method
of preserving animal substances, Dr. B. W.
Richardson discovered that flesh which is
alive in the body of an animal possesses a
neutral reaction, being neither acid nor al-
kaline ; but that after an animal is killed,
and the flesh is exposed to the air, there is
quickly set up an acid reaction which lasts
as long as the dead structui'e remains
" fresh." As the structure begins to change,
the acid reaction becomes neutral, and from
that it soon passes to become alkaline.
This alkaline reaction may be considered as
an evidence of putrefaction.

A SELECT committee of the National
Academy of Sciences, appointed to consider
what changes are needed in the conduct of
the surveys of our Western States and Ter-
ritories, has made a report in which they
recommend a radical change. They favor
the abohtion of the present surveys under
Hayden, Powell, and Wheeler, respectively,
and the transfer of the work to the Interior
Department. It is proposed to make the
Coast Survey the nucleus of a grand system
of scientific exploration and survey.

The efforts of the Fish Commissioners
of Maryland to stock the waters of that
State with California salmon are proving
eminently successful. At Havre de Grace
and other points on the Susquehanna, sal-
mon are beginning to make their appear-
ance, and many of good size have been
taken. During the season of 1878 three
hundred thousand salmon have been dis-
tributed in Maryland waters.

A LUDICROUS miscarriage of justice has
occurred in England. Judgment having
been entered against a shopkeeper for sell-
ing watered milk to a food-inspector, appeal
was made to the Lord Chief Justice, who
reversed the original judgment. An appeal
in Scotland has had a like result. The
ground of this judgment of the higher
courts is the fact that, in order to make the
seller of an adulterated article liable, the
sale must have been made " to the prejudice
of the purchaser." But as the inspector is
not " prejudiced," the seller must go free !

It is firmly believed by the people wTio
inhabit the region around Mount Ararat
that no man has ever ascended to its sum-
mit— indeed, that the feat is impossible.
But precisely this impossible feat has been
performed by an Englishman — Mr. Bryce.
But the popular belief persists all the same.
W^hen Mr. Bryce told the archimandrite of
the district that he had made the ascent,
the old man merely smiled, and reaffirmed
the impossibility of reaching the summit.

The best quality of lime-juice for anti-
scorbutic purposes is produced in the island
of Montserrat, West Indies, where three
hundred acres of orchard-ground are de-
voted to this culture, the number of lime-
trees being about a hundred and twenty
thousand.

In advocating the projected astronomico-
meteorological observatory of Mount Etna,
Mr. G. F. Kodwell takes occasion to mention
the extraordinary brilliancy of the midnight
sky as observed by him during an ascen-
sion of Etna in August, ISVV. Myriads of
stars which he had never seen before were
visible, and the whole sky was studded
with stars of every magnitude, color, and
brightness. The meteors were " too numer-
ous to count ; " the stars themselves shone
with extraordinary scintillations. One effect
in particular was noticed, for which it is not
easy to account, viz., the apparent lowness
of the sky, which " appeared to be almost
pressing down upon one's head, while the
larger stars seemed to be suspended below
the sky. A good telescope," he adds,
" brought to bear on such a sky would reap
a harvest of results."

In the root of the strawberry-plant
{Fragaria vcsca) Dr. T. L. Phipson has dis-
covered certain substances closely allied to
those obtained from cinchona-bark. There
exists in this root a sort of tannin of a very
pale-yellow color, soluble in water and in
alcohol, and which strikes a green color
with iron salts. It is soluble in water slight-
ly acidulated with hydrochloric acid ; but
with more hydrochloric acid it combines to
an insoluble compound. This substance,
called by Phipson Fragarianine, is really a
sort of tannin, closely allied to quinotannic
acid, but instead of yielding cinchona red
like the latter, it yields a somewhat similar
substance, which Phipson calls Fragarinc.
The process by which this substance is ob-
tained is fully described by Phipson in a
paper read before the British Association.

Iridescent glass is made by burning
chloride of tin in the furnace. Fumes are
thus produced for which warm glass has
great afiBnity, and which immediately pro-
duce an iridescent ' surface upon it. To
heighten the effect, a small quantity of the
nitrates of baryta and strontia may be used.

ELISHA GRAY.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

FEBRTJARY, 1879,

DARWIN VS. GALIANI.'

By Professor EMIL DU BOIS-EEYMOND,
of the university of berlin.

IT was a hundred years ago, in the salofi of the Grand-Val, after
dinner. Here was assembled that fastidious company of wits as
well known to us through the letters of Diderot to Mademoiselle Voland
as though we, too, had been guests under Holbach's roof. There was
Diderot himself, the most German-like of Frenchmen, and Grimm, the
most Frenchy of Germans ^ ; that peevish Scot, Hoop, and the little
Neapolitan abbe, Galiani,' in whom playfulness and levity often con-
cealed profound thinking. There, too, were those women whose re-
doubtable charms are immortalized in Rousseau's " Confessions," as
those of Helen in the " Hiad " and " Odyssey."

The fortunate ones of this world had then a good time, especially
in France. The trammels of superstition which for seventeen centu-
ries had made slaves of the human race seemed to have been burst
asunder. The sun of a cloudless day was illumining and warming the
intellectual world ; while on the other side of the Atlantic the dawn of
popular freedom and human dignity was beginning to appear. Des-
potism in church and state was tottering before assaults which daily

' Translated from the German, by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

2 Sainte-Beuve, " Causeries du Lundi," third edition, vol. ii., 1858, p. 203.

2 Ferdinand Galiani was a native of the province of Abruzzo, Naples, born in 1728.
He was no less remarkable for wit than for solid acquirements. Having made a collec-
tion of specimens of the volcanic products of Vesuvius he sent them to the Pope in a
box thus labeled, " Beatissime pater, fac ut lapides isti panes fiant " (i. e.. Most Holy
Father, command that these stones be made bread) ; in answer to which the Pope gave
him the canonry of Amalfi, with four hundred ducats per annum. He wrote a treatise
on " Money," " Annotations upon Horace," " Dialogues on the Corn Trade," etc. He held
several important offices under the Neapolitan Government, and died, greatly esteemed, in
1787. — (Gates's " Biographical Dictionary.")
VOL. XIV. — 27

410 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

grew bolder ; and Gazette's prophecy ' had not as yet cast its ominous
shadow over this gay and brilliant coterie. Moreover, what was there
now that man might not do, after Montgolfier had ascended in the air,
and Franklin had subdued the lightning ?

The company talked first of the great American citizen ; then of the
great Frederick, who also was conceded to be somebody ; next of Vol-
taire, with whom Frederick seemed to be fully reconciled. But, with all
their worship of Voltaire, and with all their willingness to recognize
his services in the cause of enlightenment, there was no getting over
the fact that, in truth, he was an incorrigible deist.^

" How childish," remarked the host, '^ is his conception of the uni-
verse as a watch from which we may infer the watch-maker ! Inasmuch
as nothing is certain save the existence of matter, why look for any
other causes than the forces of matter ? What is there so inconceiv-
able in the idea that an infinity of atoms, acting upon one another from
eternity, should assume a definite arrangement, and so form worlds ;
that when in these worlds light, heat, moisture, and certain elements
were present in the right proportions, the phenomenon which we call
life should first appear as a germ, and then expand into ever-widening
and more varied circles ; that in this way the animal mechanism, and,
finally, that of man himself, should have come into being ?— a Avell-con-
trived mechanism, indeed, but not without many an imperfection ; en-
dowed with strength and beauty, but also afflicted with many a sad in-
firmity ; capable of enjoying many a pleasure, but also threatened, alas !
with still crueler sufferings."

There was general assent, but then were heard coming from a cor-
ner the piping tones of Galiani's voice :

" Ladies and gentlemen, for Heaven's sake, no metaphysics to-day !
Let us talk of something else. Suppose I tell you of an occurrence I
once witnessed on the Marina at Naples. A juggler had set up his
booth, around which stood a group of lazzaroni and other folk, myself
among them. After performing sundry tricks which have escaped my
memo°ry, the fellow offered us a wager that he could every time, with
Ms dice, throw sixes. One or two of the gapers took up the bet.^ He
did, in fact, throw sixes the first time, the second, third, fourth—"

« But, monsignor, this is a farce ; either you are joking, or else the
dice were cogged."

» Of course they were," Galiani replied. He had, as was his wont,
climbed into his arm-chair, on which he squatted with his legs doubled
up beneath him ; he had his wig poised on his left hand, for the weather
was hot, and, with his right, he gesticulated wildly, after the maimer of
his countrymen. " Of course they were cogged, and that was just the
trick. The juggler did not say that he would throw sixes every time

' " (Euvres choisips et posthumes de M. de la Harpe," Paris, 1806, tome i., p. 62.
2 E. du Bois-Reymond, " Voltaire in seiner Beziehung zur Naturwissenschaft," Berlin,
1868, p. 19.

DARWIN VS. GALIANI. 411

•with honest dice. Any man in his senses might have known beforehand
that the dice were cogged, and the fellows who found this out only after
their money was gone were laughed at heartily. But the point of the
story is this : If two dice fall on the same side four times in succession,
you, not being lazzaroni, hold it to be impossible that the thing should
happen by accident. You conclude, with undoubting certitude, that a
hidden cause, designed to produce this effect, has been incorporated in
the dice, in the shape of a little lead. But, when you see all around
you this universe, with its innumerable suns, planets, and moons, which,
poised in vacancy, have for thousands of years been rhythmically travel-
ing in their courses, without ever a collision ; when you see on this
globe dry land, sea and atmosphere, sunshine and rain, so distributed that
myriads of plants and of terrestrial, aquatic, and aerial animals swarm
in joyous life ; when, for all these creatures, you see the alternation of
day and night, of winter and summer, beneficently answering, in all re-
spects, to the requirements of activity and rest, cessation and growth ;
when, in your own body, you see each particle of its ineffably compli-
cated structure performing exactly the functions which the good of the
whole organism demands, while in turn it can itself subsist only in the
whole ; when, in your own members, your eye, your ear, you see the
profoundest science of the mechanician or the optician so far transcend-
ed that our friend D'Alembert and the great Euler yonder in St. Pe-
tersburg, e tutti quanti, appear as fools ; when you see this machine —
alongside of which your Le Roy's finest watch is, as it were, some coarse
piece of mill-gearing, your Vaucanson's most ingenious automaton a
wretched toy — perfecting itself by practice, making its own repairs ;
when you see it even reproduce its own kind, and male and female most
charmingly, mother and child most beautifully adapted to each other ;
when, in the Jardin du Roi, under a thousand animal forms, from the
elephant to the shrew-mouse, M. de Buffon shows you as many types of
your own organization, each one adapted in its own way for the enjoy-
ment of life and the pursuit of its prey, for defense against its foesf
for propagation of its kind, and for care of its young; when jmu see the
bees solving their cell-problem as correctly as the most learned of
mathematicians, the spiders bracing their polygons of silken threads,
the mole excavating its galleries, the beaver constructing its dams ;
when, further, in all these instances you see the agreeable combined
with the useful, and magnificence, ornament, and grace everywhere
lavishly displayed— Flora's children clothed with beauty, the gaudy
butterfly flitting about among them, the peacock spreading his tail-
feathers ; finally, when Mr. Needham shows you, under his microscope,
how each drop of vinegar or of paste is alive with creatures as numerous
as the worlds you have been able to descry through M. de Cassini's
telescope — you confidently say that all this is chance. And yet the
spectacle presented to us by nature is the same as though some one
were every instant, with an infinite number of dice, to make exactly the

412 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

throw which he announces in advance. I judge differently, ladies and
gentlemen. I say that nature's dice are cogged, and there, above, is
the greatest of jugglers making sport of us."

What reply was, on the spot, made to the abbe we know not. But
of the impression which the apologue of the cogged dice made on the
encyclopaedists we learn something from a passage in the " Systeme de
la Nature," that work which, in the opinion of the young Goethe and
his Strasburg associates, was " senile, cimmerian, cadaverous, the very
quintessence of senility, offensive to all correct taste, nay, insipid."
And yet it is not to be denied that the " Systeme de la Nature," in
most points, very nearly represents the idea of the universe now held by
scientific men.

In that work Holbach vainly squirms to escape from the snare in
which he had been caught by the Neapolitan. "The molecules of
matter," says he, " may be likened to cogged dice, i. e., they always pro-
duce certain effects of a determinate kind. Inasmuch as these molecules
are in themselves and by their combinations essentially diverse, we may
say that they are cogged in infinitely diversified ways. The brain of
Homer or of Virgil was nothing but an aggregate of molecules, or if
you please of cogged dice — i. e., things so constituted and so elaborated
that they must of necessity produce an Iliad or an JEneid."

To say nothing of the fact that Holbach speaks of mental phenom-
ena being produced by material conditions as of a self-evident propo-
sition, nothing could be more awkward than the mode in which he
strives to wrest the weapon from the hand of his opponent. By adopt-
ing the comparison of the molecules of matter with cogged dice, he
unwittingly admits that in nature, just as in a gambler's den, there is
trickery ; whereas the problem before him was to explain how material
particles not directed toward any definite end should nevertheless co-
operate to that end.

Here is the knot, here the enormous difliiculty, that racks every
linderstanding that would comprehend the universe. Whoever will
not surrender all occurrences into the hand of Epicurus's Chance, who-
ever admits even the veriest tittle of the doctrine of teleology, must
perforce accept Paley's disparaged natural theology, and this the more
inevitably the more clearly and accurately he reasons, the more inde-
pendently he exercises his judgment. But so weighty and so numerous
are the facts which seem to favor teleology ; so irresistibly do these
facts daily force themselves upon us in common life ; so interwoven are
final causes with time-honored imaginations of our race instilled into
us during childhood, that even minds possessed of considerable powers
of abstraction can not in their habitual thoughts refrain from postulating
them. A man may, with Lichtenberg, ridicule the teleological explana-
tions offered in earlier times. Be he ever so determined to regard the
processes occurring in the animal body simply as effects produced b}'^
the mechanical or chemical organs, and so to represent them to others,

DARWIN VS. GALIANI. 413

nevertheless presently he finds himself speaking of the use, functions,
and purposes of the organs.

The possibility, however remote, of banishing out of nature this
apparent adaptation to ends (teleology), and of everywhere setting up
blind necessity in the place of final causes, is to be regarded as one of
the greatest advances ever made in the world of thought, as a step
from which will be dated a new epoch in the treatment of these prob-
lems. That he has in some measure diminished that torture of the
mind which tries to understand the universe, will be Charles Darwin's
highest title to fame so long as there exists a philosophic student of
nature.

Mr. Darwin's " Origin of Species " undoubtedly found zoology,
botany, and paleontology in a state bordering on doctrmaire lethargy.
The knowledge of organic forms was daily increasing in an overwhelm-
ing proportion. The sole concernment of scientific men was, as far as
possible, to classify the superabundant harvest in the existing system-
atic frame-work ; and where this could not be done, to extend the latter
and add to it on this side and on that, as need was. Natural history in
its narrower sense, i. e., the study of the modes of life and the instincts
of animals, was hardly to be found anywhere save in books for children.
As for ascertaining the meaning of the facts gathered up by natural-
ists, as for any theory of organic beings, such things were hardly so
much as thought of. The ancient dogmas of the immutability of
species — a conception which, however, no one was able to define — of
the infertility of hybrids, of successive acts of creation, of the impossi-
bility of spontaneous generation, of the recent origin of the human race
— these dogmas precluded all effort in that direction. The earlier at-
tempts, in our own time brought to light again, of Lamarck and others,
at solving this problem with the aid of insufficient data, and in part
from the point of view of nature-philosophy, had fallen into oblivion,
and long since it was the custom to regard it as irresolvable by natural
science. Independent thinkers who would not bow down before the
infallibility of the school were solemnly admonished of the error of
their ways. For there existed a hidden community, composed for the
most part of people who were unconnected Avith the zoological school,
but to which many also within the school now profess to have belonged,
though at the time they showed no symptom of it : this party already
entertained secret doubts concerning the inerrancy of the received dog-
mas. Johannes Muller himself, who in other respects clung to these
dogmas with strict orthodox}^, who as a professor inculcated them on
his pupils, and who labored with indefatigable industry in building up
the orthodox system, betrayed, on the occasion of his discovery of the
development of Mollusea in holothurians, heretical tendencies Avhich
brought him into no little trouble with the school.

It is a pity that he did not live to witness the catastrophe which
only one year after his death overtook this very self-assured school.

414 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The disaster was of a kind never before seen in the history of Science —
so long preparing and yet so sudden ; so quietly planned and yet so
mighty in its effect ; a scientific event without a parallel, whether we
consider the extent and the importance of the system which was over-
turned, or the reverberations of the downfall to the uttermost limits of
human knowledge. Just as, after the overturning of thrones, the neigh-
boring countries are for a long time all commotion and tumult, whereas
in the center of the disturbance itself new institutions are beginning to
take root, so in consequence of the Darwinian movement the always
unsettled border-land between science and philosophy is yet in a state
of violent fermentation, as we see nearly every day from the many-hued
bubbles of literary effort which come to the- surface. But in the field
of calm and earnest science this first turmoil has given way to more quiet
contemplation. Already a new generation, which has grown up amid
this revolution, is beginning to take the lead with renewed courage.
Leaving out of the account a few cross-grained geniuses, whose lamenta-
tions we can disregard and pass to the order of the day, it is on all
sides admitted that the old ground was untenable, and that in the place
of Cuvier's and Agassiz's series of creations must be substituted Mr,
Darwin's doctrine of descent.

At the same time the opinion seems to be steadily growing that the
evolution of organic nature is to be explained only by the so-called
laws of organic structure. The peculiar merit assigned to Darwin is
that he has gained the victory for the doctrine of descent. On the
other hand, the doctrine of natural selection is regarded, at the best, as
an ingenious idea, set forth with much skill, but in point of fact of no
value.

This view, in my opinion, calls in question the very best portion of
the new advance in science.

Compared, indeed, with the doctrine of the systematic school, as it
reigned unquestioned in manuals and lecture-rooms down to the publi-
cation of Darwin's work, the doctrine of descent appears in itself to be
a great step of progress. None can be more ready to admit this than
they who therein see the triumph of their own views, silently enter-
tained ; none can more highly esteem than these pre-Darwinian Dar-
winists the merit of having aided in giving to the doctrine of descent its
present commanding position. Still it was not to be expected that these
men should feel as much indebted, intellectually, to the doctrine of de-
scent, as others who before were not quite certain whether whales didn't
come forth ready made out of nothing ; whether each species manu-
factured at pleasure by the ornithologist or the entomologist was not
created in the beginning, and did not enter Noah's ark. If naturalists of
this class, though now they accept the doctrine of descent, are neverthe-
less a little uneasy in their consciences, and wonder at their own audacity,
it is, on the other hand, perfectly natural that those older adherents of
the doctrine of descent should not rest content with the triumph of their

DARWIN VS. GALIANI.

415

views, but that they should follow even in his further conquests the
great leader who by a single blow won the victory for their side. But
the end which he points out to us is high above the doctrine of descent,
which doctrine, in so far as it attempts to explain the evolution of or-
ganic nature solely by its laws of development, is in fact still of little
avail to us.

We must remark, in the first place, that what morphologists denomi-
nate laws are not laws at all in the sense of theoretical science. These
so-called laws are simply rules deduced from a greater or less number
of cases, and like grammatical rules only serve to classify and explain,
by a process of vicious circle-reasoning, other facts embraced within the
same definition. Even Kepler's laws were but rules of this kind, until
Newton deduced them from the universal law of gravitation, and so
raised them to the dignity of laws. But now that they are firmly based
on the principle of gravitation, the whole doctrine of the movements
of the heavenly bodies may be inferred from Kepler's laws with the
highest attainable degree of certitude; and our longing to know the causes
of things is as fully appeased by this explanation as the nature of the
human understanding will permit. We know, with that kind of certitude
which we denominate absolute, that, like the planets of our own solar
system, so those of unseen suns move in ellipses whose radii vectores
describe equal areas in equal times, and that the squares of their revolu-
tion times are as the cubes of their distances from their suns.

It is very different Avith the laws of organic structure. If in a Juras-
sic rock we find a fragment of a rhombic enameled scale, we infer with
a very high degree of probability that the fish of whose panoply this
scale was a part thousands of years ago had an independently pulsating
aorta-peduncle. If on breaking up a shapeless piece of fossil bone we
discover a spiral auditory cochlea, we know that the animal of whose
skull the fragment was a part was a mammal. It is no small triumph
that we dare make such assertions as these. Still, there is not absolute
certitude here. Even the most firmly established laws of organic struc-
ture possess only a greater or less probability. Absolute characters are
in systematics the philosopher's stone. True, in some cases the prob-
ability grounded on laws of organic development borders on certitude.
That we shall never find a centaur, pegasus, griffin, a configuration like
that of an angel or a demon, whether living or fossil, we may affirm
with almost the same certainty as that a planet which has never been
observed will obey the laws of Kepler. Whether we can with equal
certitude affirm that never will a vertebrate be found in which by a
transposition of the central nervous sj'stem the posterior and the an-
terior roots of the spinal-cord nerves will have interchanged functions,
may perhaps be open to doubt, however improbable such a thing may
be. Would the comparative anatomist ever have supposed a priori
that such a structure could exist as that of the PleuronectCB ? Then,
in the Invertebrata the uncertainty of the laws of organic structure is

41 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

in so much greater as the Invertebrata, with perhaps the exception of
the Articuhita and the Radiata, are less pronouncedly typical and
physiologically less intelligible.

This uncertainty of the laws of organic structure comes from the
fact that these laws themselves are purely experimental, containing in
themselves no ultimate, logically cogent truth such as we find in physico-
mathematical laws. Hence, a departure of nature from these rules im-
plies no contradiction, no impossibility ; and if a thing is not impossible,
of course it is possible.

Physico-mathematical laws form, as it were, a resting-place on which
we may safely step without fearing that it will ever fail under our
weight. In the history of development, on the other hand, what has
been our experience ? Within a short period of time, a very restricted
survey of the animal world, a survey guided by chance, made us ac-
quainted with a series of facts that conflict with all our previous knowl-
edge. Discoveries like that of the inverted position of the embryo in
'certain rodents, of the development in the deer, of alternate gen-
erations, of the development of the echinoderms, of the Entocoiicha
mirabUis, of parthenogenesis, of hectocotjly — all these are calculated
to put us on our guard against premature generalization in this field.
But in fact such anomalies as these are only counterparts of others with
which we have long been familiar, as the marsupials, viviparous fishes,
etc., which make no impression on us, because already known to science.

Under such circumstances the application of the biogenetic funda-
mental law to individual cases is very hazardous, even though we admit
the principle in a general sense. The inferences which ontogeny,
guided by a few scattered paleontological characters, permits us to draw
with regard to phylogeny, will never possess more than a very restrict-
ed degree of probability. It will ever be open to the individual under-
standing to take whatever way it chooses amid the confusion of innu-
merable and complex possibilities, and, excepting a few indisputable
points, which, however, were understood long ago, to conceive a great
many diff'erent modes of development of the organic world as it exists
now. As for certain genealogies of our race drawn up in unfettered
presumptuousness rather by an artistic imagination than by a scientifi-
cally trained mind, they are of about the same value as the pedigrees
of Homeric heroes in the eyes of the histoi'ical critic. For my part, if
I want to read a w^ork of fiction, I can find something better than a
*' History of Creation."

But this is not the point which concerns us just now. Granting the
scheme of descent from the little mass of protoplasm with which
life is supposed to have begun, up to man himself, to be clearly made
out (which it is not), the fashioning of organic nature will, after all, be
as great a riddle as ever, if laws of structure have alone determined its
development.

And this, not because molecular mechanics, which produces modifi-

DARWIN VS. GALIANI. 417

cations of structure, is a sealed book to us, and will for ever remain so.
The molecular mechanics of crystallization, of chemical processes, seems,
it is true, to be more easily understood than that of cells; still, for the
present it is as hidden from us as is the latter, though its unintelligi-
bility is of a different kind. It is the adaptation seen in the develop-
ment and in the functions of the cell which, even were we acquainted
with the descent of all forms, would still leave organic nature a mystery.
By laws of structure alone we can not explain adaptation in organic be-
ings. Hence, however complete our doctrine of descent, the ancient
riddle which has confronted mankind from the beginning persists with
all its original obscurity, unless something else comes to succor us.
The sphinx of teleology still threatens unconquered from her crag.
What boots it to know the reason why all vertebrates are made up of
the self-same homologous parts, if we do not further know what natural
cause so transformed these parts as to make them exactly answer to the
purposes of each separate species ? If, to explain this latter fact, a
supernaturalistic intervention is still necessary, then we are yet in
about the same old rut. Formerly the question used to be why, in
repeated creative acts, Omnipotence always clung to the same models,
and at times did only indifferent work ? But now we must ask why it
should, in advance, have tied its own hands, committing itself to faulty
constructions and making it impossible for itself, e. g., to create a verte-
brate with six extremities, though in a given case such a plan might
be a very serviceable one. Hence we are, on the whole, no better off,
and have only altered the form of the problem, without coming nearer
to a solution.

In these straits we find in the doctrine of natural selection a mea-
surably acceptable solution. Associated with the laws of structure, it
would forthwith enable us to understand why organized beings are so
wonderfully adapted to one another and to the world around them ; why
in themselves they are adapted to these ends, at the same time, however,
exhibiting many an inadaptation ; why they always stand in groups
made up of the self-same parts, as though Nature had not been able to
invent something new, while nevertheless each one of these parts is
cleverly so transformed as to answer a special purpose in each species.
Sexual selection, then, comes in to perfect the weapons, offensive and
defensive, of the wooing male animal, and furnishes the answer to the
question how animated nature happens to lavish plumage adornment
on birds; whereas Maupertuis's theorem of the smallest action pre-
cludes any superfluity in inanimate nature. Even the glowing hue of
Alpine flowers is accounted for by the attraction which brighter-col-
ored individuals exercise upon the insects scarce in those heights, and
necessary for fertilization. And mimicry, a fact brought to light by Mr,
Alfred Russel Wallace, to whom we owe an important share in the dis-
covery of the grand principle of natural selection, still further multi-
plies the conditions under which new forms come into existence and

41 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

become fixed. Finally, this principle extends into the field of psychol-
ogy and throws light even upon the origin of our ethical aspirations.
In short, in lieu of final causes we would have in organic nature a
most complex but blindly acting mechanism ; and the cosmic problem
would be reduced to the two enigmas : " What are matter and force ? "
and, "How can these think?"

The objections to this doctrine of natural selection are esseritially
three in number :

The first group of its opponents simply question the facts on which
the theory is based, namely, the tendency to variation, the transmissi-
bility of varieties, the fecundity of hybrids, the mutability of species ;
above all, Darwin's very ingenious explanation of the dying out of
intermediate forms. These opponents, however, urge but little be-
yond the arguments on which the doctrine of the old systematic school
rested, and which have been shown by Darwin to be untenable. Still,
there is one objection which possesses undoubted weight. I myself
early called attention to it in my lectures, in which I believe I was the
first public expositor of the new doctrine in Germany. The objection
was not printed till much later, so far as I know, and then by Prof. A.
W. Volkmann. It is this, that the minute variations in which new
species are supposed to have their rise can not be of any material ad-
vantage to the individual in which they appear. Still, in my opinion,
this objection applies only in certain cases, and perhaps only provision-
ally. In the case of electrical organs, for instance, it still seems to be
unanswerable, for we can not assign any possible use for the so-called
pseudo-electrical organs. But, as concerns wings, we see in the example
of the flying opossum, the flying lemur, and of the flying frog, dis-
covered by Wallace, how difficult it is to say of a rudimentary organ
whether it is or is not of advantage to an animal. In short, the ques-
tion is not whether this or that definite structure, but whether any
adapted structure whatever, can be explained in the way pointed out
bj^ Mr. Darwin. In many cases of adaptation by mimicry, and of sexual
selection, this is admitted by the great majority of naturalists ; and
this, as we shall see, is for the present enough.

The second group of opponents do not question the general correct-
ness of the principle or the validity of natural selection in certain cases.
But they object that the principle does not explain all structures. To
suppose that it must, implies a misapprehension. It never was pre-
tended that natural selection could, by itself alone, account for the
fashioning of organic nature ; laws of organic structure have always
been supposed to act simultaneously with it. Mr. Darwin himself has
dwelt on this aspect of the problem, but, as was natural, it has no para-
mount place in his treatise, despite its importance. If I mistake not,
in the innumerable essays which have been written on the Darwinian
theory, sufficient stress has not been laid on the fact that the laws of
organic structure must account for whatever in organisms is either not

DARWIN VS. GALIANI. 419

adapted or is even dysteleological ; while, on the other hand, natural
and sexual selection has to account for most of what is adapted or what
is present for ornament's sake only, and which is therefore unexplain-
able by the simple laws of structure. So truly is this the correct view
of the case, that in fact the structure of organisms seems everywhere to
be a compromise between the requirements of the laws of structure
and the effects of natural selection, as we see — to employ an illustration
familiar to the physiologist — in the crossing of the air-passage by the
digestive passage in lung-breathing vertebrates, an arrangement full of
peril to life. On a previous occasion I showed that, in accounting for
this state of things, the Darwinian theory coincides, in its results, with
the optimism of Leibnitz. Still I am very far from overlooking the
difficulties which still remain on this point. One of the most serious
of these, in my opinion, is the power of regeneration, as it is called by
physiologists, and the nearly allied v?s medicatrix naturce, whether as
seen in the healing of wounds, in the circumscription and compensation
of internal morbid processes, or — at the outermost end of the series —
in the reproduction of a complete fresh-water polyp out of each of the
two halves into which one such polyp has been divided. This power
could not have been acquired through natural selection; and here it
seems inevitable for us to recognize laws of structure working toward
an end. But have we not a like phenomenon in the restoration of
mutilated crystals, a fact observed by Jordan, Lavalle, Pasteur, Senar-
mont, Scharff, and others ? So, too, the power which organisms possess
of perfecting themselves by practice appears to me not to have yet
been sufficiently studied with reference to natural selection.

As a third argument against the theory of natural selection — one
which is supposed to negative all its claims to consideration — its op-
ponents always urge in the last place that in no single instance has
any one ever actually observed adaptive transformation of an organ by
inheritance and selection of the fittest forms. What transformations
have been thus effected in the past no man can tell, it is objected; and
inasmuch as, even in the future, observations and experiments on this
subject seem to be impracticable on many accounts, it is "claimed that
the doctrine of natural selection is not only an unproved hypothesis
now, but that it is fated for ever to remain so. Taking their stand
upon this ground, and contrasting themselves with the believers in
Darwinism, its opponents boast not a little that they are upholding the
standard of strict method, which requires us to accept as demonstrated
only what is proved by experiment or by mathematical reasoning.

But this again is a mistake. If it is conceded that any one adapted
structure can be explained by natural selection, and if therefore this
theory is admitted to be legitimately deduced from legitimate premises,
then, in order to suppose the operation of natural selection, wherever
it is needed to explain phenomena, it is not necessary for us to actually
demonstrate such operation in the individual instance. It might be an

420 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

exceedingly difficult thing to distinguish, in the performance of a com-
plex machine, the part played by certain forces, as gravity and inertia,
everywhere operating according to known laws. Nevertheless, no one
would doubt that gravity and inertia do cooperate in the machine, nor
should we for a moment hesitate to ascribe to the one or the other of
these two forces whatever subordinate eflPects are only explainable by
each respectively. And so in the present case. Natural selection is
not, like the supposititious laws of organic structure, an empirical rule
which may to-morrow, perhaps, prove nugatory. Neither, indeed, is it,
like mathematico-physical laws, an infallible leading principle govern-
ing material events. But, as being a proposition deduced by a chain
of valid inferences from universally admitted facts, and at the same time
a proposition necessary in se, natural selection stands midway between
a rule and a law, though it comes nearer to the latter. Hence, of the
two evolution principles of organic nature, laws of structure and natural
selection, the latter is in theory the surer, whatever may be its short-
comings in practice.

Undoubtedly it were much to be desired that we could in the in-
dividual instance demonstrate the woi'king of natural selection, and
follow the process step by step. But this we can not reasonably expect
to do. Between the work of natural selection for one generation and
the result after 100,000 generations, there subsists about the same
ratio as between diflFerential and integral. How seldom it is that we
are able to understand this latter ratio, even though we subject it to
calculation ! But do we for that reason question the correctness of our
integration ? The corresponding problem, in the present instance,
would be to investigate and ascertain the evolution of a species through
an endless line of generations and under diverse external conditions,
while at the same time, as has been already stated, unintelligible laws
of structure, working either not adaptively or only accidentally so, enter
the problem as undetermined constants, or even as undetermined func-
tions. Though this can not be done, it does not follow that we must
misapprehend the ratio between the differential and the integral found
for us by nature, as though by a calculating-machine.

Thus, then, so far as the validity of the principle in general is con-
cerned, it may be for us a matter of indifference whether or not in the
individual instance we can discern and demonstrate the operation of
natural selection. As things stand, it must be operative, and the only
question is, whether its influence, as regards quantity, is comparable
to that of the laws of structure, or whether other more powerful influ-
ences obliterate its effects, so that the adaptation prevailing throughout
nature would be attributable solely to the action of these laws. In
view of this question, the following appears to me to be the proper
attitude of the investigator of nature :

That natural selection can perform what we must ascribe to it in

DARWIN VS. GALIANI. 421

order to explain thereby the adaptation of organic nature, is no more
demonstrated than is the contrar}^ proposition. The aim of the theoret-
ical investigator of nature is to understand nature. If this aim is not to
be an absurdity, the man of science must presuppose the intelligibility
of nature. Final causes in nature are incompatible with nature's in-
telligibility. Hence, if there is any way of banishing teleology from
nature, the man of science is bound to take it. Such a way is found
in the theory of natural selection ; and hence we must follow in it. Be
it that, in holding this theory, we experience the sensations of a man
who as his only hoj^e of rescue from drowning clambers on a plank
which can only just keep him above the water : when the choice lies
between a plank and drowning, the plank has a decided advantage.

Galiani's apologue does not now puzzle us as once it puzzled the
encyclopaedists. We should have known how to reply to it, for Mr.
Darwin has enabled us to see why it is that nature generally, though
not always, throws doubles, and that, too, without cogged dice. And,
as in our opinion systematics did not attain its true significance and its
full value till now, when it no longer deludes itself with its artificial
frame-work of classification, so even in physiology we continue to make
use of teleology as an aid in discovery, but with the understanding thatj
the teleology of organs being apparent only, there will also be much
that is unteleological, or even antiteleological.

On the other hand, a man is not to be censured who, under the
influence of such impressions as we have described, finds it impossible
to believe that all nature, the human brain included, was created by the
forces of matter out of a chaotic nebulous sphere. What, at the Utmost,
seems possible when applied to a minute mass of protoplasm, will ap-
pear rather hard to believe even to the most uncompromising monist,
when he looks at a human blossom, beaming with grace and genius ;
and yet the difference between such mass of protoplasm and a human
being is a difference simply of degree ; in fact, the human being was
once a mass of protoplasm. In matters of this kind, personal bias,
determined by natural constitution, education, and accidental influences,
will ever play a great part : Teleology and Vitalism— both in one shape
or another as old as mankind— will last as long as the race itself.
Hence, let every man take his own course ; only, the partisans of Final
Causes must not imagine, as they are wont to do, that they offer a better
solution of the problem, or any solution at all that is worthy of that
name, when they invoke the aid of supernatural conceptions of any sort.

This was well understood by Leibnitz. True, he did indeed suppose
that he had discovered a dualistic theory of the universe, but the part
he there assigns to final causes proves the correctness of the remark
just made. Leibnitz utterly rejected teleology in the material world.
Here, for him, reigns mechanical causalit}^, and nothing else. Matter
IS, according to him, created by God, but at the same time it is so
invested once for all with motive force that there is no need of setting

422 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

the clock of the universe to make it go right. The sum of matter, like
the sum of motive force, remains ever the same. Whatsoever has oc-
curred or ever shall occur in the material world is ideally determinable
mathematically. In a word, the material world is a mechanism, only
infinitely more ingenious than any mechanism contrived by man, and
composed of an infinity of parts inclosed one in the other.

Alongside of this machine of the corporeal world, Leibnitz sup-
posed a spirit world — the world of his monads — whose ideas, from
their creation down, keep pace with the changes of the corporeal world
and answer to them ; but between them and the corporeal world no
reciprocal action of cause and efi"ect is possible. On this theory, when
we suppose we are working for ends, or that we have sensations pro-
duced by external causes, such ideas are preestablished phantasms of
our soul-monad, which is ever presenting to itself exactly the course of
things that is passing outside at the same instant, and that seeming-
ly, but not in reality, works through or upon the monad. Once only,
miracles apart, has anything been done in the universe for an end, ac-
cording to Leibnitz, and that was when God created the universe as
perfect as he could. How Leibnitz supposed it possible to reconcile
his theory with freedom of will, is a question which does not concern
us here.

Thus, there was no doubt in Leibnitz's mind that material particles
may, in virtue of the forces imparted to them, constitute an apparently
teleological universe. Nay, all • difi"erence between his and our theory
of the material universe vanishes if God created the world infinite ages
ao-o. But even if God created the universe at the finite time —t, the
course of events necessitated by Leibnitz's theory corresponds perfectly
with what it would be in our theory, onward from the instant —t. For,
inasmuch as Leibnitz looks on the condition of the universe at each
instant as a function of time, God could, according to him, create the
world in the instant -t only in that condition in which it was at that
time, according to our view.

Take away from Leibnitz's theory of the universe the illusory ap-
pendage of the monadoloffy, of preestablished harmony, and of optunism,
and the onlv solid nucleus that remains is his mechanical conception of
the material world, and his perception of the impossibility of explammg
on supernatural grounds a material fact, or, conversely, of explaining on
mechanical grounds a spiritual fact. His having, over and over again,
clearly and sharply expressed this perception— indeed, it was this per-
ception that forced him to resort to the hopeless idea of preestabhshed
harmony— may well be esteemed to be Leibnitz's special service to
metaphysics, though he himself, and his followers, hitherto make that
claim rather for those more brilliant speculations. Certain it is that
matter, as we have to do with matter in physico-mathematical studies,
is not all, not the substance of things. But what there is over and
above matter is hidden from us ; and when we strive to set up before

DAE win VS. GALIxiNI. 423

our mind's eye objectively a spiritual substance, we simply deny the
properties of matter as reported to us by our senses, and hence the
product of our phantasy proves incapable of causal action and reaction
with matter.

How profoundly in error, then, are they who, often in a tone of
scientific pharisaism, lament our blindness in trying to account for the
universe without final causes which so easily and so beautifully solve
all problems, even those of ethics ! These people simply show that at
bottom they are ignorant of what knowledge means. For us there is
no other knowledge save mechanical knowledge, however beggarly a
substitute that may be for true knowledge, and consequently there is
only one truly scientific form of thought, the physico-mathematical one.
Hence there can be no more mischievous illusion than that whereby we
are led to believe that we explain the teleology of organic nature by
calUng to our aid an immaterial intelligence, conceived in our own like-
• ness, and working for ends. It is of no consequence what form we give
to this anthropomorphism ; whether with the " Timseus " of Plato we
postulate as an emanation of Deity in living beings moving ideas, with
which never any definite conception has been connected in anybody's
mind ; whether with other philosophers we suppose an unconscious soul
which constructs bodies after the types of their various kinds ever present
to itself, which sees through all the enigmas of physics and chemistry,
and which is thus far more intelligent than the conscious soul ; or, final-
ly, whether with Leibnitz we suppose God to have once for all in the
beginning ordered the universe with a view to ends. It is, I repeat, of
no consequence under which of these forms one attempts the impos-
sible. So soon as one quits the region of mechanical necessity, he
enters the boundless cloud-land of speculation. But it is all to no pur-
pose ; for, if the teleological character of nature weaves a crown of
thorns for monism, at the same time her occasional antiteleology is
anything but a bed of roses for dualism. The appeal to the advantages
presented by dualism for the explication of ethical problems is of no
avail with one who knows the true state of the case. Must we over
again be reminded of the obscurity which Leibnitz vainly labored to
remove in his " Theodicy " ?

The student of nature in the present day can only assume the atti-
tude of resignation toward the ultimate principles of things. I have in
another place shown how the palpable errors of sudi thinkers as Leib-
nitz can be explained by the times in which they live. Between Leib-
nitz and ourselves there is an enormous chasm dug by scientific research,
reenforced by observation and experiment, by calculation and induction.

Above all, qualitative research, so called, has on the scientific mind
an educating influence, like that of life on character. Being corrected
at every step by nature, and constantly reminded of the uncertainty of
his judgments and the fallaciousness of his apparently most firm con-

424 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

elusions ; being sooner or later infallibly punished for every over-hasty
opinion, for every act of blind trust in appearances : such is the dis-
cipline which accustoms the experimental scientist to be chary about
rapid and brilliant conquests ; to attack the truth which he fain would
discover by gradual approaches ; to test it as impartially as though his
aim were to prove the contrary ; and finally, when he is arrived at a
number of perhaps mutually contradictory facts held together by a
tissue of still obscure relations, and the whole looking toward sundry
possibilities whereof experience alone can decide which is stronger,
resignedly to keep that state of things present to his mind as the best
it is conceded him to know.

Surel^^ it appears as though mathematical research, too, which
proceeds inductively to a greater extent than is commonly supposed,
might have a like educating efi'ect. It, too, possesses what is lacking
to metaphysical speculation, the sure means of determining whether its
judgments are correct or not. But the mathematician draws this deter-
mination from himself, and hence his occupation is less adapted than
experiment for weakening one's trust in speculation. Hence it is that
mankind could for two thousand years busy itself about problems in
mathematics, without ever curbing their propensity to speculation ;
hence, again, Descartes and Leibnitz, two of the greatest mathemati-
cians of the seventeenth century, were also the boldest metaphysicians
of the same period.

Hardly two centuries have elapsed since chemists, physicists, and
physiologists went to work steadily and systematically, and already we
see the fruits of their teaching, as transmitted from generation to genera-
tion. In this school the human mind has lost the habit of childish rever-
ence and juvenile enthusiasm, grown up to the discretion of manhood,
and learned to comport itself modestly in presence of insoluble enigmas.
A new phase of its history is observable, partly in the decay of specula-
tivism, and partly in the style of philosophizing now adopted by the
best minds.

The practice acquired by the man of science in the small warfare of
the laboratory fits him to deal with the great mystery of the universe.
The sti'iving which we observe in Leibnitz, toward constructing by
hook or by crook a universe wherein preconceptions inherited from
the childhood of the race are blended with the insight of an already
well-matured physico-mathematical mind, is a thing so foreign to the
man of science that he could no more think of adopting that point
of view than of adopting the mythological cosmogony of the Hel-
lenes or of the Brahmans. The complacent assurance with which
Leibnitz looks on his scheme as demonstrated, reminds him of similar
illusions in the beginning of his own scientific development, for in
the domain of mind, too, the biogenetic principle holds good. Know-
ing well how immovably fixed are the bounds set to man's understand-

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 425

ing, he has no longing to transcend them. He sees that his field of
research lies between the problems, " What are matter and force ? " on
the one hand, and " How do matter and force think ? " on the other ; out-
side of this field he knows only that he knows nothing, can know no-
thing, and will know nothing. Standing without vertigo on this moun-
tain-summit of Pyrrhonism, he scorns to people the vacuity round about
him with the images of his own phantasy and surveys unappalled the
unpitying drift of nature without gods. He is not disheartened at the
thought that he stands face to face with eternal enigmas. He does
not, like an Empedocles, cast himself into the physical abyss whose
secrets he is vmable to fathom ; nor, like a Faust, into the ethical
abyss, although no unworthy trammels restrain him from yielding to
its temptations. For he contemns not reason and science, though it
be denied him to recognize the first cause of things. Like Lessing,
he holds the higher good to consist not in the possession but in
the pursuit of truth ; and therefore does he find solace and exalta-
tion in labor which increases the store of human knowledge ; which by
healthy effort enhances the powers and the capacities of our race, ex-
tends our dominion over nature, ennobles our being by enriching our
mind, and beautifies it by multiplying our joys.

From the disheartening conclusion, " Ignorahhnxis^'^ the student of
nature recovers as he pronounces the stirring countersign given by the
dying Septimius Severus to his legionaries — '

" Laboremus ! "

SCIENTIFIC RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO

BIOLOGY.

By Professor JOSEPH LE CONTE.

II.

BIOLOGICiVL Methods applicable to Sociology. — We have thus
shown the use in sociology of the ideas and doctrines character-
istic of biology. We have shown that they are applicable, but with
some limitations and modifications imposed by the presence of a nature
higher than the animal. We come now to show the use of biological
methods in the cultivation of sociology.

The great characteristic method of biology is the method of com-
parison. The reason is obvious. The phenomena of life are so com-
plex that it is impossible to reduce them to law without simplifying

' Jussit deinde signum tribuno dari Laboremus^ quia Pertinax quando in imperium
adscitus est signum dederat Militemus. — " Scriptores Hist. August, ab Hadr. ad Nume-

VOL. xiy. — 28

426 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them. But the mode of simplification adopted in physics and chemis-
try, viz., experiment, or the arranging of simple artificial conditions, is
only to a slight extent applicable to biology. The phenomena are not
only complex, but they are so delicately balanced that the introduc-
tion of our rude hands in the way of experiment often overthrows the
equilibrium, destroys the conditions of biological experiment, viz., life,
and thus throws the whole subject into the realm of chemistry and
physics. But, fortunately, nature has prepared for us an elaborate se-
ries of experiments. We have organisms of every degree of increasing
simplicity, from the body of man to the microscopic spherule of almost
unorganized protoplasm called a moner. The complex problem of life,
as we go down this scale, is made simpler by the successive removal of
added complications, until it is finally reduced to its simplest terms,
and thus only we begin to understand the essential phenomena — thus
only may we find the value of the unknown quantity. It is, therefore,
by extensive comparison of organisms in all stages of complication with
each other, that the foundations of a scientific biology have been laid.
Anatomy has become scientific only through comparative anatomy ;
physiology through comparative physiology; and, we may add, psy-
chology is now awaiting the development of comparative psychology.

But this general method of comparison is subdivided into three or
four sub-methods. Nature has prepared not only one but three or four
series, not identical, not mere duplicates of each other, but varied, yet
resembling and illustrating each other. The first of these is the natural
history or taxonomic series. It consists of the whole series of organ-
isms as they now exist, from the complexly structured mammal to the
simple unicelled plant or animal. The second of these is the embrjonic
or ontogenic series. It consists of the successive stages of development
of one of the higher animals, from the germ-cell to the mature condition.
The third is the geological or phylogenic series. It consists of the
organisms inhabiting the earth in successive epochs, from the Archsean
until now. The fourth is the pathological series. It consists of all
possible variations from the normal type by monstrosity or by disease.
Though much less full than either of the others, it must not be neglected
by biologists.

It is wholly by extensive comparison in these four series that biology
has recently risen to the rank of a true science. In this great work, the
chief credit is due to three men, viz., Cuvier, Agassiz, and Darwin ; for
these three are the great founders of the comparative method. Cuvier
laid the foundations of comparative anatomy and physiology, by com-
parison in the taxonomic series. Agassiz extended the comparison to
the ontogenic and phylogenic series, showed the resemblance between
the three, and determined and announced all i\ie formal laws of evolu-
tion of the oro;anic kinofdom as now recosrnized. Darwin has made the
bold and in large measure successful attempt to explain these laws by
the operation of secondary causes. If Agassiz may be called the Kepler

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 427

of the time universe, Darwin ma}' with some though with much less
show of reason be called its Newton. I say with less show of reason,
for the causes of evolution are yet very imperfectly known.

Now, not only are all these methods applicable to the study of
sociolog}', but all the advance in this science which has taken place in
recent times has been the result of their apphcation. For how has
sociology been advanced, and must continue to be advanced ? 1. By
the comparison of social organisms, nations, tribes, etc., as they now
exist in different portions of the earth and in different grades and kinds
of civilization, with each other, in institutions, habits, customs, forms
of government, etc. Is not this the taxonomic series ? 3. By compar-
ing the different stages of development of the same social organism,
from savagism to the highest degree of civilization, and marking the
origin, growth, and modification of government, institutions, customs,
etc. Is not this the embryonic or ontogenic series ? 3. By comparing
with each other the successive stages of advance of all social organisms
of the whole race through the rude stone, the polished stone, the bronze,
and the iron conditions. This is M. Comte's historic method ; but is it
not the geological or phylogenic series ? 4. By comparing the same
social organism with itself in its normal and abnormal conditions, i. e.,
in a state of peace, prosperity, social health, and social sanity, with the
same in various states of commotion, revolution, anarchy, social fever,
and social frenzy. Is not this the pathological series ? It is impos-
sible to doubt that these are the true scientific methods of sociology.
But they were all first used in biology, and only afterward imported
into sociology.

But it will perhaps be objected : " This supposed relation of sociology
to biology is but an analogy which has not even the merit of being new
or recent. It has always been recognized. It is well expressed by the
story told by Menenius Agrippa to the mutinous Roman plebeians, in
which he showed the absurdity of their conduct by comparing the con-
dition of Rome to a state of war among the members of the body. It
is also admirably expressed by St. Paul in his comparison of the church
to a well-organized body with different members having different func-
tions. The analogy has always been recognized, but has not borne any
special fruit in the advancement of social science, or the betterment of
the social condition." To this I answer : Yes, it has always been recog-
nized ; but there are different degrees of recognition, and it is only the
higher degrees ichich bear any scientific fruit. In this, as in other
departments, a recognition of the laws of nature by the imagination
gives rise to metaphor, simile, poetry, art, and in its highest manifesta-
tions is what we call genius. A dim, imperfect recognition of the same
by the reason constitutes analogy. The clear recognition by the rea-
son of the same in all its details, so that the application of appropriate
methods becomes possible, constitutes science. Tims sociology, like

428 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

all other sciences, has its three stages : 1. The facts of sociology are
collected and recorded in chronicle and history. This is descriptive
sociology. 2. These facts are reduced more or less successfully to gen-
eral formal laws. This is philosophical history, or formal sociology.
Thus far sociology is built upon its own basis of facts and phenomena ;
an analogical connection with biology may have been recognized, but
not a scientific connection. 3. These formal laws are connected with
and explained by the fundamental laws controlling organisms as their
cause, and sociology becomes finally a causal science. In this, as in all
other sciences, this last step is attended with prodigious impulse -and
steady advance, for it is this last step which connects it with the
hierarchy and gives it the assistance of all other sciences. It is this
step which has only recently been made, and its effect is already
visible.

But it will be again objected that society is already highly organized ;
how, then, can it be said that the science of social organization is of recent
origin? How could the principles of social organization be embodied
without a knowledge of those principles? The answer to this is quite
plain, and brings to view an additional resemblance between society
and other lower forms of organization. As the organic body passes from
lower to higher and still higher forms without any will or consciousness
or knowledge of the process on the part of the organism itself — or, still
better, because more closely analogous to the social organism, as the
organic kingdom, regarded as an organism, throughout all geological
times developed into higher conditions without any intention on the
part of the many individuals of which it is composed, but only as the
natural result of each seeking its own ends in the struggle for life — even
so society advances to more and more highly organized conditions with-
out any intention on the part of the individual members, much less any
knowledge of the principles of social organization, but purely as the
natural result of the struggle for life, and each member seeking his own
immediate ends. In both cases it is natural law working out its legiti-
mate result. In both cases it is God (for natural law is the mode of
Divine activity) working to a given end without the conscious coopera-
tion of individuals. But there is this wide difference : In the latter
case, if the development continues, there inevitably comes a time when
man turns about and reflects upon what he has imconsciously or at least
intuitively done : there eventually comes a time when he consciously
cooperates with God or nature, and strives by the use of reason and
science to modify and improve the social organism.

Or, regarding it from a slightly different point of view, the social
organism is a work of art, the noblest of all arts. Now art always pre-
cedes science, and not the reverse, as many seem to suppose. It is for-
tunate that it is so, or emergence from barbarism would be impossible.
The art of walking is acquired in great perfection before the principles
of equilibrium involved are understood. Handspikes and pulleys and

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 429

screws were used before the principles of the lever and inclined plane
involved in their use were understood. The art of music was carried
to exquisite perfection before the scientific principles of harmony were
known. Pottery, agriculture, and many other useful arts were not only
practiced, but carried to a high degree of perfection, before the corre-
sponding sciences were born. The capacity for art is inherited from the
animal kingdom. Science is born of humanity, and is therefore distinc-
tively human. Art is born of instinct or intuition ; science of the con-
scious reason. Art is the result, at first, of the empirical method ;
science always of the rational method. I repeat, then, art precedes,
leads upward to the comprehension of science ; but science, when suffi-
ciently perfect, turns again and perfects art. Art is the earthly mother
of science ; but the celestial daughter, when mature, turns again and
blesses and helps her mother. Even so is it with human society. The
art of government and of social organization precedes the corresponding
science, and is its necessary condition ; but when sufficiently perfect,
sociology will undertake to modify and better the social organization,
and guide the social development.

But I said, art is inherited from the animal kingdom ; science is
born of humanity. For this reason art is of itself limited ; science is
unlimited, for it is connected only with the highest nature of man, the
spiritual and eternal. Art may be carried to a high degree of perfec-
tion, but unless assisted by science quickly culminates and declines, or
else becomes petrified and immutable ; but if its principles be under-
stood, if it becomes allied with science, if it passes under the dominion
of the self-conscious reason, it then becomes indefinitely progressive.
So also that highest art, the art of government and social organization,
may reach, unassisted by science, a high degree of perfection ; but if it
be simply an art it quickly culminates and declines, or else becomes
petrified and immutable, as we see in the Chinese and Japanese. As
in the organic kingdom each organic form is specialized to the greatest
extent and then becomes immutable and generally perishes ; as the tree
of life branches, and each branch grows its several way — flowers, fruits,
and dies — even so each isolated nation, or branch of the social tree,
pushes its growth it knows not whither, but as far as possible in its
direction, then flowers, fruits, and dies. But if the scientific principles
of sociology be once understood, if science or self-conscious reason guide
the social development, there can no longer be any limit to its progress.
But observe : this indefinite progress is due wholly to the introduction
of other principles than those derived from purely animal nature ; ft
violates the perfect analogy to material organisms. In fact science,
which determines and guides that indefinite progress, is itself born only
of that higher nature.

But again : all who have reflected much on the relation of science
to art can not fail to have observed that while a mature science guides
art with certainty, and continues to perfect it without limit, yet there

430 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is a certain stage in the development of science when its influence may-
be even disastrous. In the passage from art to science there is a cer-
tain stage vs^hen the presumptuous application of an imperfect science
interferes with the truer and better results of a perfect empiricism, and
art is thereby hurt. This is true especially of the more complex arts
and sciences. Thus the principles of science must be held in subordi-
nation to an enlightened empiricism in such arts as medicine, agricul-
ture, etc. Science can not yet undertake to guide these arts with confi-
dence. So is it also, and in a much greater degree, in the case of human
society ; for here we have the most difficult art, and the most complex
and imperfect science. It must be yet a very long time before the
science of sociology can presume to guide the course of social progress.
Premature interference with the results of an enlightened empiricism
can do nothing but harm.

I have now covered the ground which is implied in the title of this
article. I have shown the close connection, both in doctrine and
method, between social and organic sciences — a connection similar to
that which exists between organic science and that immediately below
it in the hierarchy. I have shown that sociology is one of that hierarchy,
and the highest. I have shown that the cultivation of this science
requires acquaintance with all other and simpler sciences, but especially
biology. My task would seem to be done. But I would do violence
to my feelings and convictions, and would be liable to serious miscon-
struction, if I stopped here. What I have thus far said gives but an
imperfect idea of the comprehensiveness and complexity of social science.
I have yet shown but one side of this complex subject, although the side
which is most familiar to my thoughts, and, I believe, also the best de-
veloped. It is necessary at least to glance at the other side. I have
developed one of the foundations or basic connections of sociology ; but
there is another, as I now proceed to show.

All along, in the course of this discussion, I have from time to time
shown that there are certain limitations to the application of the doc-
trines and methods of biology to sociology, and that in every case such
limitation is the result of the introduction of some new principle charac-
teristic of humanity as distinguished from animality, of reason as dis-
tinguished from instinct, of spirit as distinguished from matter. This
is precisely what, even from a purely scientific point of view, we ought
to expect, and is in fact necessary. For in the scientific hierarchy each
^ience, in addition to the forces and phenomena of the lower sciences,
deals with a new force and a new group of phenomena, and therefore
with new doctrines and new methods. In going up the scale of sciences
we rise successively to a higher and higher plane of activity. On the
plane of dead matter only physical and chemical forces operate, and
only physical and chemical phenomena occur. On the plane of living
matter, in addition to the preceding, we have also vital forces and

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 431

phenomena. On the plane of sentient existence we have, in addition,
nerve force and phenomena. On the plane of rational and moral exist-
ence we have, in addition to all the preceding, also rational and moral
forces and their corresponding phenomena. With every rise to a higher
plane we have also, as has already been shown, new doctrines and new
characteristic methods. Shall we not, then, on this highest plane also,
viz., on the plane of rational and moral existence, the plane of humanity,
shall we not have here also new characteristic methods and doctrines
connected with this new and higher form of force? It is evident that
we must. All the doctrines and methods which I have developed are
imported from biology. I have said nothing of characteristic methods
and doctrines of sociology. Comte clearly saw the necessity, in accord-
ance with the principles of a scientific hierarchy, of a characteristic
method, and he thous-ht he had found it in what he calls the historic
method. But Comte's historic method, as we have already shown, is
nothing but comparison in the phylogenic series — a method which is
imported from geology. There must be characteristic methods and
doctrines in this highest science also. What are they ? Man is cer-
tainly something more than an animal. What is that something more?
The answer to these two questions is the same. The characteristic
doctrines and methods of sociology are evidently connected with man's
higher rational and moral nature — with his distinctive humanity. But
the science of this side of our nature is yet so imperfectly developed,
our knowledge of these higher phenomena is yet so imperfectly reduced
to law, that these characteristic doctrines and methods are not clearly
recognized and distinctly formulated. In a word, our knowledge here
is not yet scientific; the department has not yet even a distinctive
name. For want of a better we shall call it psychology, although it
really includes much more than usually goes under that name. But
when (if ever) this department of knowledge shall take on a scientific
form, then it also must become another basis, another fundamental
science, on which must rest sociology. And what sociology is now
waiting for, more than for anything else, is the scientific development
of this second basis.

Thus then sociology, unlike other sciences, and because of man's
twofold nature, rests not on one only but on tioo more fundamental
sciences. The basis which I have developed is the material basis. This
is all that the materialists admit. If a pure material philosophy were
sufficient, this is all the basis which sociology requires. The fact that
it is not suflficient, the fact that another basis is required, is demonstra-
tive against a pure material philosophy. According to a pure material
philosophy science is a straight shaft rising ever until it pierces heaven.
But, on the contrary, if we watch its progress closely, we perceive that
it indeed rises straight enough at first ; but as it approaches the plane
of humanity it begins to lean and curve to one side, until it inevitably
falls over, unless it be supported on that side also. That support which

432 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

it must receive is, or should be, the rising and arching shaft of psychol-
ogy. But, alas ! this shaft is yet too imperfectly built to support effec-
tively, and hence the present unsteady condition of the whole fabric of
science so far as it relates to man.

Thus, then, there are two fundamental sciences upon which sociology
must rest. These are on the material side biology and on the spiritual
side psychology. But sociology, like all other sciences, must first rise
on its own basis of observed and collated facts and phenomena. There-
fore we may describe the process of the building of a scientific sociology
as follows : First, social facts, or building materials, are gathered in
chronicles and detailed histories : this is descriptive sociology. Then
these facts are collated and reduced to laws, the materials are chiseled
and fitted and cemented into a rising column : this is formal sociology,
or philosophic history and political economy. Then the column arches
and connects in one direction with the more fundamental science of
biology, and in another direction with that of psychology, and thus
becomes causal or true scientific sociology. On this triune arch (not
double arch, for the columns stand in triangle) rests the broad triply-
supported platform of social science, and from this must hereafter rise
the beautiful shaft of increasing social knowledge.

On this triply-supported platform there are three regions from which
spring respectively three shafts, distinct yet united to form one. The
social organism is composed of three subordinate organisms ; the social
body is composed of three fundamental coordinate corporations, con-
nected each most closely with one of the supporting columns. These
are — 1. The political organization ; 2. The moral and religious organi-
zation ; and, 3. The industrial organization : or the state, the church,
and the guild. The first is connected directly with the history column;
the second with the psychology column ; and the third with the scien-
tific column. They may be compared (though the comparison may be
considered fanciful) to the three great regions of the organic body, viz.,
the head, the thoraoc, and the abdomen, or rather to the three great co-
ordinate systems of the animal organism, viz., the nervous system, the
blood and respiratory system, and the digestive system ; the first con-
trolling and directing, the second warming and vivifying, the third
furnishing aliment. They correspond also to the three great divisions
of the psyche, viz., the intellect, the affections, the will : the first di-
recting and controlling; the second giving motive-stimulus, energy ;
the third, active and executive. They correspond finally to the three
subordinate and coordinate courses of a perfect human culture insisted
upon in my article " On Liberal Education," ' viz. : 1. The Language-
Art course, commencing with language, ancient and modern, passing
upward through literature, art, history, philosophical history, and thus
connecting with sociology through the political organizaticm or the
state; 3. The Philosophic course, commencing with logic and passing

' "Southern Presbyterian Review," 1859.

RELATION OF SOCIOLOGY TO BIOLOGY. 433

upward through mental philosophy, moral philosophy, and so connect-
ino- again with sociology through the religious organization, the church ;
3. The Scientific course, commencing with mathematics and passing up
through the hierarchy of science, as already given, and so connecting
again with sociology through the industrial organization, the guild.

I have made only three fundamental corporations of the social or-
ganism. Friedrich Schlegel, the celebrated writer on philosophy of his-
tory, in a series of articles entitled " Characteristics of the Age," makes
five essential corporations rising one above the other in the following
order, viz., the family, the guild, the state, the school, the church.
But the least reflection, I thmk, will show that the family and the school
belong to a different order from the other three, being subordinate and
preparatory to them, not coordinate with them. The former are inter-
nal, elahorative ; the latter external, visible, public, final results. I am
sure that the more we reflect upon this subject, the more we will be
convinced that there are only three fundamental and strictly coordinate
corporations.

We have seen that it is the guild which is most directly and closely
connected with the scientific column, and with our material nature. In
accordance with this fact we find that it is this sub-organism which is
by far the most perfectly organized. It is in this that we see most
perfectly carried out the law of differentiation and specialization of
social functions and mutual dependence of parts ; and the strongest
tendency to identification of the individual life with the social function.
In other words, it is precisely here, as Ave should expect, that we find
the nearest approach to the ideal of material organization. In accord-
ance with the same fact we also find that the corresponding department
of social science, viz., political economy, is that which is by far the most
perfectly developed.

There are three mistakes made by thinkers on the subject of sociol-
ogy, all founded on a too limited view of the structure of the social
organism, each consisting of an attempt to absorb the whole organism
into one of the fundamental corporations — to regard the great field of
sociology as connected with only one of the supporting columns men-
tioned above. Lawyers, politicians, statesmen, and indeed people gen-
erally, regard sociology as most closely connected with the history
column, and would make the state paramount. The state is for them
the social organism. Theologians and moralists, on the other hand,
would make the church paramount in importance if not absolutely
absorbing the others, and sociology as most closely connected with the
psychology column. The modern materialist would make the guild the
paramount corporation, and sociology as most closely connected through
biology with the scientific column. The political philosopher is apt,
therefore, to cling only to empirical laws and so-called practical methods,
unaware of or denying the connection of sociology with any more fun-
damental departments of science, and especially its connection with

434 ^^^ POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

biology. The psychologist and the theologian are apt to ignore too
much the material basis of sociolog}', the organic laws which through
our material nature impress themselves upon the structure and develop-
ment of society ; while the materialist and the political economist are
apt to overlook or belittle the importance of the other essential cor-
porations, especially the church, and make sociology nothing more than
the highest of the material sciences. But no steady, safe progress in
social organization can be made unless we fully recognize the coordi-
nate value of these three, nor in the science of sociology unless we ap-
proach the subject from these three sides.

-♦•♦-

THE CKYSTALLIZATION OF GOLD, SILVER, AND

OTHEE METALS.

By THOMAS J. GEEGAN.

THERE are tew chemical experiments so well known as the growth
of the " lead-tree " and " silver-tree." These carrj' our minds
back to the times of the alchemists, who called the first " Arbor Sa-
turni," and the second "Arbor DianEe," and they may be looked upon
as the type of a large number of phenomena in which the salt of one
metal in solution is decomposed by some other metal.

My assistant, Dr. Hand, and myself have lately been experimenting
on these replacements, the metallic crystals which are thus produced,
and the forces that act through the liquid. Our more special attention
has been given to the mutual action of copper and nitrate of silver.
If these two substances be brought into contact by the intervention of
water, there grows on the red metal what may be called " trees," and,
though the analogy between the crystals and the plants is a very
superficial one, still the resemblances of external form are sufficiently
striking, and a nomenclature drawn from the garden seems the most
expressive.

A microscopic view of the growth of these silver crystals round a
piece of copper is a truly beautiful sight ; a blue glass underneath
increases the efiect, but they are best seen when they reflect a strong
light thrown upon them. They may also be thrown upon a screen as
opaque objects, but the beauty and luster of their surfaces are in this way
lost. The crystals of silver thus produced differ both in color and form
according to the strength of the solution. If it be very weak — say one
per cent. — the copper is fringed with black bushes of the metal, which
in growing change color to white without any alteration of crystalline
form that can be detected by a powerful microscope. A stronger solu-
tion gives white crystals from the commencement, which frequently

CRYSTALLIZATION OF GOLD^ SILVER, ETC. 435

assume the appearance of fern-leaves ; while the growth from a still
stronger liquid reminds us rather of a furze-bush. If the nitrate of sil-
ver amount to fifteen per cent, or thereabouts, there occurs a steady
•advance of brilliantly white moss ; and, if the solution be saturated, or
nearly so — say forty per cent. — this moss is very sturdy, often ending
in solid crystalline knobs, or stretching out into the liquid as an arbo-
rescent fringe.

In all these cases, however, when the solution in front of the grow-
ing crystals has been somewhat exhausted, certain prominent or well-
circumstanced crystals seem to monopolize the power, and to push for-
ward through the remaining portions of the liquid. This raises beauti-
ful branches which assume a variety of graceful forms, which it is hope-
less to attempt to portray by diagrams, but the subjoined figures give
some of the more characteristic outlines greatly magnified. The weak
solutions produce feathery crystals, as somev/hat in Fig. 1, consisting of

Fig. 1.

Fig. 2.

a straight central stem from which grow on either side crystalline rays
that terminate in a sharp point, and frequently become themselves the
center stem of a similar crystalline structure.

In the outlying growth of a moderately strong solution the apparent
regularity of the crystalline form is lost ; the main stem is built of a
confused mass of hexagonal plates, while the side branches are an ag-
glomeration of minute pointed crystals turning in every direction, and
producing such jagged outlines as in Fig 2.

Fig. 3.

Fig. 4.

In still stronger solutions the branches lose every appearance of
straightness, and they are built of hexagonal plates so studded with

436

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

crystalline specks that the whole has the rounded appearance as in Fig.
3. The arborescent crystals that succeed the fringes, from a saturated
solution, are smaller in their foliage than the last, and end in small
spherical or botryoidal knobs.

Besides these various forms, there occur all kinds of crystalline com-
binations, as for instance the spray sketched in Fig. 4, when the long

and rough branches have terminated
each in a large hexagonal plate and the
flowing past of a weak solution has
afterward caused the growth of delicate
fern-leaves. Often, also, a large expan-
sion will take place in every direction,
though joined to the parent stem by
an almost invisible thread ; or, from
the point of a long crystal there will
branch out to right and left crescent-
shaped structures, a process the commencement of which is seen in one
of the side rays of Fig. 1. The last traces of silver will frequently give
rise to delicate crystalline filaments wandering over the surface of the
glass, as in Fig. 5.

If a piece of zinc be placed in a solution of neutral terchloride of

Fig. 5.

Fig. 6.

gold, containing about nine per cent, of salt, there is an immediate out-
growth of black gold, which speedily changes to an advancing mass
of yellow or perhaps lilac metal of lichen-like forms, from which
proceed beautiful fringes of yellow or black, ending generally in such

CRYSTALLIZATION OF GOLD, SILVER, ETC. 437

arborescent forms as are represented in Fig, 6. As these branches
push into the yellow liquid, it becomes colorless even in advance of
their points, and it frequently happens that yellow crystals of some
salt shoot out in front of the crystallizing metal, which follows them
and builds up its advancing fronds at their expense. This is shown in
the figure. The gold will generally shoot its yellow branches rapidly
round the margin of the drop. Such a running branch has been seen
to stop on coming in contact with a loose piece of gold, which imme-
diately in its turn becomes active, and commences to sprout on its
farther side. Copper salts give round nodules, which have no crystal-
line appearance when deposited from moderately weak solutions, but a
very strong solution of the chloride — about forty per cent. — yields with
zinc, first a thick, black growth, then arborescent fringes of red metal,
terminating in crystals of very appreciable size.

The fringes referred to in the case of these three metals are still
more characteristically developed by bismuth. When a solution of the
terchloride of bismuth acts on zinc there
is an immediate outgrowth of black fringes,
as in Fig. 7, where they are seen on an
illuminated field. As they advance, these
become more arborescent, and as the crys-
talline character becomes more developed
they change from black to gray. Some-
times bismuth presents itself in botryoidal
masses, but the tendency to form the fringes
is verv strons;.

Chloride of antimony with zinc also
gives black fringes. Lead salts yield crys-
tals resembling those of silver, but leaves
of irregular, hexagonal plates prevail, and
frequently become of large size.

A solution of acetate of thallium, of
twenty per cent, of salt, quickly gives a
beautiful forest of thorny crystals. Sul-
phate of cadmium gives rise to a small,
leaf-like growth on zinc ; but a strong solution of the chloride produces
an appearance of sticks covered with small spines or knobs. The new
metal indium is thrown down upon zinc in the form of thick, white
crystals. The deposition is promoted by touching the zinc with a piece
of iron.

Tin gives beautiful results. If zinc be placed in a solution of stan-
nous chloride it is quickly surrounded with a growth of prolonged octo-
hedra, and as these advance into the liquid it is easy to observe that
the additions of new metal commence at the apex, and that the wave
of chemical change proceeds down the lateral edge, occupying some
seconds of time in depositing the new layer of material. Frequently,

Fig. 7.

438 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

also, there is a luxuriant growth of large, flat leaflets, or symmetrical
structures resembling fern-leaves, but with the fronds arranged at right

angles, or combinations of these with
octohedra, as shown in Fig. 8, These
fern-leaves often begin of a dull-gray
color, but, as they advance, suddenly
change to a brilliant white. The
particular form of these crystalline
growths depends, therefore, primarily
on the specific character of the metal,
^J^^^^^^^^^^' but this is greatly modified by the

strength of the solution.
The forms assumed by native metals resemble those produced by
the process of substitution. In some cases, indeed, it seems almost
certain that the deposition of these minerals was effected in the same
way — as, for instance, the silver on the native copper of the Lake
Superior district.

Gold is frequently found in cubes more or less rolled, but the leaf-
gold from Transylvania bears a striking likeness to the crystals that
form in our laboratory experiments.

Silver is often found native as twisted hairs or wires of metal — a
form that never occurs in the decomposition of its nitrate by copper,
but which can be artificially produced in another way. There has been
noticed a singular tendency in old silver ornaments and coins to be-
come crystalline and friable. I have an ancient fibula from the island
of Cyprus, supposed to be at least fifteen hundred years old, which,
through the greater portion of its substance, presents a fracture some-
thing like that of cast iron, and its specific gravity has been reduced in
round numbers from ten to nine.

It contains a little copper. This property of certain metals, or their
alloys, to change in condition and in volume, is worthy the attention of
those whose duty it is to make our standards. Experiments should be
instituted for the purpose of learning what metals or combinations of
metals are least subject to this secular change.

These metallic crystals are Nature's first attempt at building. The
material is the simplest possible — in fact, what chemists look upon as
elementary. But how is the building carried on ? What are the tools
employed ? Where are the bearers of burdens that bring and prepare
the pieces and lay them together according to the plan of the Great
Architect ? We must imagine what is taking place in the transparent
solution. The silver, of course, existed at first in combination with
the nitric element, and for every particle of silver deposited on the
growing tree an equivalent particle of copper is dissolved from the
surface of the plate. The nitric element never ceases to be in combi-
nation with a metal, but is transferred from the one metal to the other.
On the " polarization theory " the positive and negative elements of

CRYSTALLIZATION OF GOLD, SILVER, ETC. 439

the salt constantly change places and enter into fresh combination, one
consequence of which would be a gradual passage of the nitric element
from the growing silver to the copper plate. This actually takes place,
and there is a diminution of the salt at the ends of the silver branches,
giving rise to an upward current and a condensation of nitrate of cop-
per against the copper plate, which gives rise to a downward current.
These two currents are seen in every reaction of this nature. In the
case of silver and copper, however, it has been proved that the crowd-
ing of the salt toward the copper plate is more rapid than would follow
in the usual " polarization theory." The instrument used in determin-
ing this point was a divided cell in which two plates, one of silver and
one of copper, connected with a wire, are each immersed in a solution
of its own nitrate, contained in each division of the cell, and separated
merely by parchment paper. The crystals of silver deposited on the
silver plate in this experiment are very brilliant. There are indica-
tions of the liquid being put into a special condition by the presence
of two metals which touch one another. Zinc alone is incapable of
decomposing pure water, but if copper or platinum be deposited on
the zinc in such manner that the water can have free access to the junc-
tion of the two metals, a decomposition is effected ; oxide of zinc is
formed and hydrogen gas is evolved. At ordinary temperature the
bubbles of gas rise slowly through the liquid, but, if the whole be
placed in a flask and heated, pure hydrogen is given off in large quan-
tity. We have also found that iron or lead similarly brought into inti-
mate union with a more electro-negative metal, and well washed, will
decompose in pure water.

As might be expected, the action of magnesium on water may be
greatly enhanced by this method ; and a pretty and instructive experi-
ment may be made by placing a coil of magnesium in pure water at
the ordinary temperature, when there will be scarcely any visible effect,
and, then adding a solution of sulphate of copper, the magnesium is
instantly covered with a growth of the other metals, and at the same
time the liquid seems to boil with the rapid evolution of the hydrogen-
bubbles from the decomposed water.

When, however, the force of the two metals in contact has to trav-
erse a layer of water, the resistence offered by the fluid prevents its
decomposition. This must also be an important element in the decom-
position of a metallic salt dissolved in water — and, in fact, we have
found that the addition of some neutral salt, such as nitrate of potas-
sium, increases the action, apparently by diminishing the resistance of
the liquid. If, too, we increase the quantity of the dissolved salt, we
get more than a proportional increase of deposited metal. Thus, in an
experiment made with different strengths of nitrate of silver, the follow-
ing results were obtained in ten minutes, all the circumstances being
the same except the strength of the solution :

440 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

1 per cent, solution, 0259 copper.

2 " " 078 "
4 " " 224 "

In fact, it has been found that, in solutions not exceeding five per
cent., twice the amount of nitrate of silver dissolved in water gives
three times the amount of chemical action ; and this is true with other
metals also in weak solution. It may be that this is not the precise
expression of a physical law, but it agrees at least closely with the
results of experiment.

The power arising from this action of two metals on a binary liquid
may be carried to a distance and produce similar decompositions there.
This is ordinary electrolysis. Metals have often been crystallized from
their solutions in this way, and I have seen excellent preparations of
crystalline silver, gold, tin, copper, platinum, etc., by using poles of the
same metal as that intended to be deposited upon them. The forms
thus obtained are precisely analogous to those produced by the simple
immersion of one metal into a soluble salt of another, and illustrate
still further the essential unity of the force that originates the two
classes of phenomena.

-♦♦♦-

HEKBEET SPENCEE BEFOEE THE ENGLISH COPY-
EIGHT COMMISSION.'

II.

QUESTION [Chairman). I will ask you if you have any explana-
tions you wish to offer on any point connected with the evidence
which you gave on the last occasion ?

Answer. Yes ; I have to rectify some misapprehensions. From the
restatement made by Mr. Farrar, it would appear that, in discussing the
question of profits from republication of one of my works, I said I had
"found that no other publisher would undertake the work without an
additional profit of ten per cent.," which implies that I had endeavored
to obtain another publisher. My meaning was, that I ascertained that
any other publisher who thought of issuing a rival edition would expect
to make a profit of ten per cent, beyond the ten per cent, commission
for doing the business. Further, I have to remark that the case I took
as illustrating the improbability that I should obtain any considerable
compensation from increased sales under the royalty system was the.
case of one of my works only, the " Principles of Psychology," and in
respect of this I may admit that there would be little danger of a rival

1 March 20, 1^1 : Lord John Manners, M. P., in the chair. Present, Sir Henry T.
Holland, Sir Louis Mallet, Dr. William Smith, Anthony Trollope ; J. Leybourn Goddard,
Esq., Secretary.

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 441

edition. But it is not so with others of my works — with the work on
" Education," now in its fourth thousand ; with " First Principles,"
now in its fourth thousand; and especially with the just-issued first vol-
ume of the " Principles of Sociology." These are now sufficiently in
demand, and, especially the last, sufficiently popular in manner and
matter, to make rival editions quite probable.

Q. Now, with respect to the stereotype plates, would they not
enable you to exclude the rival editions of which you speak ?

A. I think not. In the first place, the assumption that other pub-
lishers would be deterred from issuing rival editions by my stereotype
plates, implies that other publishers would know I had them. I do not
see how other publishers are to know it, until after I had myself printed
new editions — even English publishers — and it is out of the question
that colonial publishers should know it. Hence, therefore, the fact of
my having stereotype plates would not prevent such rival editions.
Consequently these rival editions, making their appearance unawares,
would compete with my existing stock, printed in a comparatively ex-
pensive style, and would oblige me either to sacrifice that stock or to
lower the price to one far less remunerative. Then, subsequently, there
would not be the supposed ability to compete so advantageously with
editions published by others. An edition to be sold at a cheap rate
must not be in large type, well spaced, and with ample margins, but
must be in small type, and much matter put into the page. Hence the
existing stereotype plates, adapted for printing only books in a supe-
rior st^le, could not be used to print cheap books : the quantity of
paper and the cost of printing w'ould be much larger items than to one
who arranged the matter fitly for a cheap edition.

Q. Then we are to gather that you do not think that from any such
cheap edition you would derive a profit from the royalty compensating
you for your loss ?

A. Nothing like compensating. Although the sales of these more
readable books I have instanced might be considerably increased, the
increase could not be anything like as great as would be required to
produce the return I now have. Even supposing the price of the rival
edition were the same, which of course it would not be, the ten per
cent, royalty would bring in the same amount, only supposing four
times the number were sold that I sell now ; and as, by the hypothesis,
the price of the volume, to get any such larger sale, must be much
lower, the royalty would bring in so much the less. If, say, " First
Principles " were issued at half the present price, eight thousand would
have to be sold instead of one thousand, to bring in by royalty the
present returns. Such an increase of the sale would be out of the
question ; even one half of it would be improbable ; so that certainly
one half of my returns would be lost.

Q. Have you any other personal experience that you wish to bring
before the commission to show that such a modification of the copy-
voL. XIV. — 29

442 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

right law as you have been discussmg would be disadvantageous to
literature of the graver kind ?

A. I think I have. " First Principles " was published in 1863, and
in the course of some years the doctrine it contains underwent, in my
mind, a considerable further development, and I found it needful to re-
organize the book. I spent five months in doing this ; canceled a large
number of the stereotype plates ; and was thus at considerable cost of
time and money. As I have already pointed out, the work being now
in its fourth thousand, has had a degree of success such that there
might, under the proposed arrangement, very possibly have been a rival
edition at the time I proposed to make these alterations. Had there
been such a rival edition, this cost of reorganization to me would have
been more serious even than it was ; since the difTerence between the
original and the improved edition, adequately known only to those who
bought the improved edition, would not have prevented the sale of the
rival edition ; and the sale of the improved edition would have greatly
diminished. In any case the errors of the first edition would have been
more widely spread ; and, in the absence of ability to bear considerable
loss, it would have been needful to let them go and become permanent.
A kindred tendency to the arrest of improvements would occur with
all scientific books and all books of the higher kind, treating of subjects
in a state of growth.

Q. With the object of rendering useful books as accessible as pos-
sible to the public, do you think that those engaged in their production
and distribution should be restrained from making what might be called
undue profits ?

A. In answer to the first part of the question I hope to say some-
thing presently, showing that the advantage of increased accessibility
of books is by no means unqualified ; since greater accessibility may be
a mischief, if it tells in favor of worthless books instead of valuable
books. But, passing this for the present, I would comment on the
proposition, which I perceive has been made before the commission,
that it is desirable to secure for books "• the cheapest possible price con-
sistent with a fair profit to those concerned." I here venture to draw
a parallel. What is now thought so desirable respecting books was in
old times thought desirable respecting food — " the cheapest possible
price consistent with a fair profit to those concerned." And to secure
this all-essential advantage, more peremptory, indeed, than that now to
be secured, there were regulations of various kinds extending thi'ough
centuries — alike in England and on the Continent — forbiddina: of ex-
ports, removing of middlemen, punishing of forestallers. But I need
hardly recall the fact that all these attempts to interfere with the ordi-
nary course of trade failed, and after doing much mischief were abolished.
The attempt to secure cheap books by legislative arrangements seems
to me nothing less than a return to the long-abandoned system of trade
regulations ; and is allied to the fixing of rates of interest, of prices,

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 443

of wages. In the past it was the greediness of money-lenders that had
to be checked, or, as in France for many generations, the greediness of
hotel-keepers ; and now it appears to be the greediness of book-pro-
ducers that needs checking, I do not see, however, any reason for be-
lieving that, regulations made by law to secure cheap bread for the body
having failed, there is likelihood of success for regulations aiming to
secure cheap bread for the mind.

Q. Then do we understand you to mean that no analogy furnished
by past experience in commercial affairs can be held to imply that the
proposed royalty plan would succeed ?

A. I think that all the facts are against it. I find it stated in the
evidence lately given that there has not been raised "an insuperable
objection in point of principle" to the plan of a royalty. If no such
objection in point of principle has been raised, I think one may be
raised ; the objection, namely, that it is distinctly opposed to the prin-
ciples of free trade. One of the aims of the plan, as expressed in the
words of the same witness, is the " preservation of a fair profit to the
author." Now, on the face of it, it seems to me that any proposal to
secure fair profits by legislation is entirely at variance with free-trade
principles, which imply that profits are to be determined by the ordi-
nary course of business. But, further, I would point out that, if it is
competent for the legislature to say what is a " fair profit to the au-
thor," I do not see why it is not competent for the legislature to say
what is a fair profit to the publisher : indeed, I may say that it is not
only as competent but much more competent. I take it to be impos-
sible for the legislature to fix with anything like equity the profit of
authors, if profit is to bear any relation to either skill or labor, as it
should do ; inasmuch as one author puts into a page of his book ten
times as much skill as another, and, in other cases, ten times as much
labor as another. Hence, therefore, if they are to be paid at the same
percentage on the price, there is no proportion in that case secured be-
tween the value of the labor and what they receive. Similarly, if we
consider the numbers sold, the royalty which might afford ample return
to an author who sold a popular book in large numbers would afford
little return to an author wlio produced a grave book selling in small
numbers. Obviously, then, it is extremely difficult, and in fact impos-
sible, for the legislature to fix an equitable royalty ; but it is by no
means so difficult for the legislature to fix an equitable rate of profit for
the publisher. The function of the publisher is a comparatively me-
chanical and uniform function : the same practically for all books, the
same for all publishers, and hence is a thing very much easier to esti-
mate in respect of the proportion ; and in fact we have the evidence
that it can be fixed with something like fairness, inasmuch as publishers
themselves voluntarily accept a ten per cent, commission. Hence, I
say, not only does the carrying out of the principle imply that if, in
pursuit of alleged public advantage, the profit of the author should be

444 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

fixed, then also should the profit of the publisher be fixed, but that it is
much easier to do the last than to do the first. If so, then, it is com-
petent for the legislature to go a step further. If there is to be a Gov-
ernment officer to issue royalty stamps, there may as well be a Govern-
ment officer to whom a publisher shall take his printers' bills, and who
adding to these the trade allowances, authors' ten per cent royalty, and
publishers' ten per cent, commission, shall tell him at what price he
may advertise the book. This is the logical issue of the plan ; and this
is not free trade.

Q. {Sir If. Solland). You will hardly contend that the system of
royalty is less in accord with free trade than the existing system of
monopoly ; you will not carry it so far as that, will you f

A. I do not admit the propriety of the word " monopoly."

Q. Without using the word " monopoly," let me saj', than the
present system of copyright for a certain term of years ?

Jl. I regard that as just as much coming within the limits of free
trade as I hold the possession, or monopoly, of any other kind of prop-
erty to be consistent with free trade. There are people who call the
capitalist a monopolist : many working-men do that. I do not think he
is rightly so called ; and similarly if it is alleged that the author's claim
to the product of his brain-work is a monopoly, I do not admit it to be
a monopoly. I regard both the term "free trade" as applied to the
unrestrained issue of rival editions and the term " monopoly " as ap-
plied to the author's copyright as question-begging terms.

Q. Without saying what opinion I hold upon the point, and avoid-
ing the use of the words " monopoly " and " free trade," I wish to know
whether you think it most consistent with the doctrines of political
economy that every person should be able, upon payment, to publish a
particular book, or that only one person should have it in his power to
do so for a certain time ?

A. Every person is allowed and perfectly free to publish a book on
any subject. An author has no monopoly of a subject. An author
writes a novel ; another man may write a novel. An author writes a
book on geology ; another man may write a book on geology. He no
more monopolizes the subject than any trader who buys raw material
and shapes it into an article of trade is a monopolist. There is more
raw material which another man may buy. The only thing that the
author claims is, that part of the value of the article which has been
given to it by his shaping process ; which is what any artisan does.
The way in which this position of authors is spoken of as "monopoly"
reminds me of the doctrine of Proudhon — " Property is robbery." You
may give a stigma to a thing by attaching to it a name not in the least
appropriate.

Q. {3fr. Trollope). I understand your objection to a system of
royalties to be this, that no possible quota that could be fixed would be
a j[ust payment for all works ?

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 445

A. That is one objection. There is no possibility of fixing one that
would apply to all works, inasmuch as the thing paid for is an extremely
variable thing, more variable than in almost any other occupation.

Q. I put that question to another witness before you, but I am
afraid failed to make him understand me. I am therefore glad to have
the answer from you, in order that we may show (I think you will agree
with me) that no special royalty specified by act of Parliament could
be just to poetry, and to the drama, and to fiction, and to science, and
to history at the same time ?

A. Quite so. I think it is obvious, when it is put clearly, that it
can not be ; and that is an all-essential objection.

Q. (Sir JT. Holland). Nor would it in your opinion be desirable
that the question of determining what amount of royalty is proper in
each case should be vested in some registrar or some single person ?

A. It would make the matter still worse. It would be bad to vest
it anywhere, but especially bad to vest it in any single official.

Q. {Chairmaii). Are we to assume that you think the plan of a
royalty to be at variance with the established principles of the science
of political economy ?

A. I think quite at variance with the principles of political economy.
The proposal is to benefit the consumer of books by cheapening books.
A measure effecting this will either change, or will not change, the re-
turns of those engaged in producing books. That it will change them
may be taken as certain : the chances are infinity to one against such
a system leaving the returns as they are. What will the change be ?
Either to increase or decrease those returns. Is it said that by this
regulation the returns to producers of books will be increased, and that
they only require forcing to issue cheaper editions, to reap greater profit
themselves, at the same time that they benefit the public ? Then the
proposition is that book-producers and distributors do not understand
their business, but require to be instructed by the state how to carry it
on more advantageously. Few will, I think, deliberately assert this.
There is, then, the other alternative : the returns will be decreased. At
whose expense decreased — printers', authors', or publishers' ? Not at
the expense of the printers : competition keeps down their profits at
the normal level. Scarcely at the cost of the authors ; for abundant
evidence has shown that, on the average, authors' profits are extremely
small. Were there no other motive for authorship than money-getting,
there would be very few authors. Clearly, then, the reduction of re-
turns is to be at the cost of the publisher. The assumption is that, for
some reason or other, the publishing business, unlike any other busi-
ness, needs its returns regulated by law. Thinking, apparently, of
prosperous publishers onl}-, and forgetting that there are many who
make but moderate incomes and very many who fail, and thinking only
of books which sell largely, while forgetting that very many books bring
no profits and still more entail loss, it is assumed that the publishing

446 ■ THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

business, notwithstanding the competition among publishers, is abnor-
mally profitable. This seems to me a remarkable assumption. Embark-
ing in the business of publishing, like embarking in any other business,
is determined partly by the relative attractiveness of the occupation
and partly by the promised returns of capital. There is no reason to
think that the occupation of publishing differs widely from other occu-
pations in attractiveness ; and hence we must say that, competing for
recruits with many other businesses, it must on the average offer a like
return on capital. Were it found that the average return on capital in
publishing was larger than in other businesses, there would immediately
be more publishers, and competition would lower the returns. If, then,
we must infer that, taking the returns of all publishers on the average
of books, their profits are not higher than those of other businesses,
what would be the effect of such a measure as that proposed, if, as an-
ticij^ated, it lowered publishers' returns ? Simply that it would drive
away a certain amount of capital out of the publishing business into
more remunerative businesses. Competition among publishers would
decrease ; and, as competition decreased, their profits would begin to
rise again, until, by and by, after a sufficient amount of perturbation
and bankruptcy, there would be a return to the ordinary rates of profit
on capital, and the proposed benefit to the public at the cost of pub-
lishers would disappear.

Q. Then, with a view to the permanent cheapening of books, we
may gather that your opinion is that it would not be effected in the
way suggested ?

A. I think not. The natural cheapening of books is beneficial ; the
artificial cheapening is mischievous.

Q. May I ask you to explain what you mean by contrasting the
natural and the artificial cheapening of books ?

A. By natural cheapening I mean that lowering of prices which fol-
lows increase of demand. I see no reason, a priori, for supposing that
publishers differ from other traders in their readiness to cater for a
larger public, if they see their way to making a profit by so doing; and,
a posteriori, there is abundant proof that they do this. The various
series of cheap books, bringing down even the whole of Shakespeare to
a shilling, and all Byron to a shilling, and each of Scott's novels to six-
pence, sufiiciently prove that prices will be lowered in the publishing
trade if the market is adequately extensive, just as in any other trade.
If it be said that in this case authors have not to be paid, I would sim-
ply refer to such a series as that of Mr. Bohn, who, notwithstanding the
payments to translators and others, published numerous valuable books
at low rates. Moreover, we have conclusive evidence that with the
works of still living authors the same thing happens, when the market
becomes sufficiently large to make a low price profitable. Witness not
only the cheap editions of many modem novels, but the cheap editions
even of Mr. Carlyle's works and Mr. Mill's works. Deductively and indue-

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 447

tively, theo, we may say that there is a natural cheapening of books, go-
ing as far as trade-profits allow; as there is a natural cheapening of other
things. Conversely, I mean by artificial cheapening, that kind which
is anticipated from the measure proposed ; for it is expected by means
of this measure to make publishers issue books at lower rates than they
otherwise do. And this is essentially a proposal to make them publish
at a relative loss. If, as already argued, the average rates of publishers'
profits are not above those of ordinary business-profits, these measures
for lowering their prices must either drive them out of the business or
be inoperative. To put the point briefly — if there is an obvious profit
to be obtained, publishers will lower their prices of their own accord ;
and the proposed competitive system will not make profits obvious
where they were not so before.

Q. But if there was free competition on the payment of the author's
royalty, might it not be that another publisher would be led to issue a
cheap edition when the original publisher would not ?

A. I see no reason to think this. The assumption appears to be
that everybody but author and original publisher can see the advantage
of a cheap edition, but that author and original publisher are blind.
Contrariwise, it seems to me that the original producers of the book
are those best enabled to say when a cheap edition will answer. The
original producers of the book know all the data — number sold, cost,
return, etc. ; and can judge of the probable demand. Another pub-
lisher is in the dark, and it does not seem a reasonable proposition
that the publisher who is in the dark can best estimate the remuner-
ativeness of a cheap edition. If it is hoped that, being in the dark, he
may rashly venture, and the public may so profit, then the hope is that
he may be tempted into a losing business. But the public can not profit
in the long run by losing businesses.

Q. {Sir H. Holland). Take the "Life of Lord Macaulay"; you
know that Tauchnitz has published a cheap edition in four volumes — a
very neat edition, good paper and good print. Is it not possible that
if this system of royalty is introduced, without considering whether the
author would lose by it, a cheap edition like that would be put upon
the market at once, and would pay the publisher ?

A. It is possible that it would be done earlier than it is now done.
I take it that the normal course of things is that, first of all, the dear
edition should be published and have its sale, and supply its market,
and that then, when that sale has flagged, there should come the aim to
supply a wider market by publishing a cheap edition.

Q. You are aware that one of the advantages which the advocates
of this royalty system most strongly dwell upon is that under the pres-
ent system the great mass of the reading public are not able to pur-
chase the books ; those who have the advantage of circulating libraries
can get them and read them, but poorer persons can neither purchase
nor read tliem, whereas under the other system an edition like Tauch-

448 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

nitz's would be at once put out, and it is contended that this, though it
might be a loss to the author, would be a benefit to the public ?

A, Then I take it that the proposal really amounts to this : that
whereas, at present, the poorer class of readers are inconvenienced by
having to wait for a cheap edition a certain number of years, they shall,
by this arrangement, be advantaged by having a cheap edition forth-
with ; which is to say that people with smaller amounts of money shall
have no disadvantages from their smaller amounts of money. It is
communistic practically — it is simply equalizing the advantages of
wealth and poverty.

Q. {Chairman). Then we may assume that in your opinion the
royalty system would not operate in cheapening books in the long run ?

A. I think that in the first place, supposing it should act in the man-
ner intended, by producing rival editions, it would act in cheapening
just that class of books which it would be a mischief to cheapen. I
have already intimated, in a previous reply, that the alleged advantage
of cheapening books is to be taken with a qualification ; inasmuch as
there is a cheapening which is beneficial and a cheapening which is in-
jurious. And I have got, I think, pretty clear evidence that the class
of books cheapened would be a class which it is undesirable to cheapen.
Being one of the committee of the London Library, I have some facili-
ties for obtaining evidence with regard to the circulation of various
classes of books ; and I have got the librarian to draw me up what he
entitles — "Recorded circulation of the following books during the three
years following their introduction into the London Library." Here, in
the first place, is a book of science — Lyell's " Principles of Geology " ;
that went out twenty-eight times. Here, on the other hand, is a sen-
sational book — Dixon's " Spiritual Wives " ; that went out orfe hundred
and twenty times. Here, again, is a highly instructive book — Maine's
" Ancient Law " ; that went out twenty-nine times. Here is a book of
tittle-tattle about old times — " Her Majesty's Tower " ; that went out
one hundred and twenty-seven times. Here, again, is another book of
valuable inquiry — Lecky's " European Morals " ; that went out twenty-
three times. Here is a book of gossip — Crabb Robinson's " Diary " ;
that went out one hundred and fifty-four times. Lecky's "History of
Rationalism " went out thirteen times ; Greville's " Memoirs " went out
one hundred and sixteen times. Herschel's "Astronomy" went out
twenty-five times ; Jesse's " George IH." went out sixty-seven times.
I have added together these contrasted results, and the grave, instruc-
tive books, taken altogether, number one hundred and eighteen issues,
while the sensational and gossiping books number five hundred and
eighty-four issues; that is to say, more than five times the number
of issues. Now, the London library is, among circulating libraries at
least, the one which is of all the highest in respect of the quality of
its readers : it is the library of the elite of London. If, then, we see
that there go out to these readers five times as many of these books

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 449

whicli minister to the craving for excitement, and are really dissipating
books, as there go out the grave, serious, instructive books, Ave may
judge what will be the proportion of demand for such books in the pub-
lic at large. Now let us ask what a publisher will do in face of these
facts. He knows what these demands are, and he has to choose what
books he vpill reprint. A publisher who has laid himself out for rival
editions is comparatively unlikely to choose one of the really valuable
books, which needs more circulating. I will not say he will never do it.
He will do it sometimes ; but he will be far more likely to choose one
of these books appealing to a numerous public, and of which a cheap
edition will sell largely. -Hence, therefore, the obvious result will be to
multiply these books of an inferior kind. Now, already that class of
books is detrimentally large : already books that are bad in art, bad in
tone, bad in substance, come pouring out from the press in such torrents
as to very much submerge the really instructive books ; and this mea-
sure would have the eflfect of making that torrent still greater, and of
still more submerging the really instructive books. Therefore, I hold
that, if the stimulus to rival editions acted as it is expected to act, the
result would be to multiply the mischievous books.

Q. {Mr. Trollope). Do you not think that, in making the parallel
that you have there made, you have failed to consider the mental ca-
pacities of readers ?

A. I was about, in answering the next question, to deal indirectly
with that ; pointing out that whUe there is a certain determining of the
quality of reading by the mental capacity, there is a certain range within
which you maj' minister more or you may minister less. There are peo-
ple who, if they are tempted, will spend all their time on light litera-
ture, and if they are less tempted will devote some of their time to
grave literature. Already the graver books, the instructive books, those
that really need circulating, are impeded very much by this enormous
solicitation from the multitude of books of a gossipy, sensational kind.
People have but a certain amount of time and a certain amount of
money to spend upon books. Hence what is taken of time and money
for uninstructive books is time and money taken away from the instruc-
tive ; and I contend that, if there were a diminution in the quantity of
the books of this sensational kind published, there would be a larger
reading of the really instructive books ; and that, conversely, the mul-
tiplication of this class of lighter books would tend to diminish the
reading of instructive books. I am now speaking, not, of course, of
the higher amusing books, because there are many that are works of
value, but of the lower novels, Miss Braddon's and others such.

Q. Do you think that a man coming home, say, from his eight or
ten hours' labor in court day after day is in a condition to read Lyell's
"Geology" as men read one of Miss Braddon's novels?

A. We are speaking of some ordinary man. No, not an ordinary
man, certainly.

45 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Q. Have we not to deal with literature for ordinary men ?

A. For both ordinary and extraordinary men ; the whole public.

Q. Are not the ordinary men very much the more numerous ?

A. Certainly.

Q. Is it not, therefore, necessary to provide some kind of literature,
as good as you can, but such that the ordinary mind can receive and
can turn into some profit, together with the normal work of life ?

A. I am not calling into question in the least the desirableness of a
large supply of literature of an enlivening and amusing and pleasant
kind, as well as a large supply of graver literature. My remarks point
to the literature that is neither instructive nor aesthetic in the higher
sense, but which is bad in art, bad in tone, worthless in matter. There
is a large quantity of that literature, and that literature I take to be
the one which will be most fostered by the proposed measures. I do
not in the least reprobate the reading of lighter works if they are good
in quality. I refer to the class of works which I regard as not good in
quality.

Q. But do not you think you must leave that to settle itself on
those principles of free trade which you have just enunciated so clearly ?

A. Certainly ; I am objecting to a policy which would tend to en-
courage the one and not encourage the other.

Q. {Sir H. Holland). The subscribers to the London Library are, as
you say, the elite of readers ?

A. Yes.

Q. And is not that the reason why there is this difference as to the
reading of good and bad books taken out from that library ; is it not
attributable to the fact that these people have probably bought and
have in their own houses the good books, but that they want to look
through these other books, and therefore get them from the library ?

A. There may be a qualification of that kind ; but inasmuch as a
very large proportion of the readers of the London Library are ladies,
and those who come for lighter literature, I do not think it at all prob-
able that they would have bought Lecky or Maine, or any books of that
kind.

Q. I ask the question because I rather think that you will find a
very curious difference from that which you have been stating if you go
to the Manchester and Liverpool free libraries. You will find there that
the workingmen take out largely Macaulay's " History of England "
and that class of books.

A. Well, whatever qualifications may be made in this estimate, or
the inferences from this estimate, I do not think they can touch the
general proposition that books of this kind which in the London Li-
brary circulate most largely, are books of the kind which circulate most
largely among the general public, and books of the kind which a pub-
lisher of rival editions would choose. That is my point.

Q. But might not that very evil to which you refer be met by im-

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 451

proving the taste of the majority of the poorer readers, by enabling
them to get at once cheap editions of good books ?

A. The question is, which are the cheap editions that will be issued.
I contend that they are the cheap editions of these books of a dissi-
pating kind; and that the main effect will be to increase the dissipation.

Q. You do not think that the earlier publication of a cheap edition
would raise the tone of readers ?

A. 1 do not see that it would do so, unless it could be shown that
that would tell upon the graver and more instructive books. My next
answer, I think, will be an answer to that.

Q. If you improve the tone of the readers, of course it does tell
upon the graver books for those who have time to read the graver
books ; but there is a large class of readers who have not that time ?

A. Yes.

Q. [Chairman). Referring to the illustrations which you have just
given of works which you would denominate as worthless, or compara-
tively valueless, did I hear among them historical memoirs and jour-
nals ?

A. Crabb Robinson's " Diary," for instance ; I call that a book of
gossip, which anybody may read and be none the better for it.

Q. The question I should like to ask is, are you not of opinion that
books of that sort are extremely valuable to the intending historian of
the epoch to which they refer ?

A. It may be that there are in them materials for him. I have not
read the " Greville Memoirs " myself, and I have no intention of reading
it ; but my impression is that the great mass of it is an appeal to the
love of gossip and scandal, and that it is a book which, if not read at
all, would leave persons just as well off or better.

Q. Take Lord Hervey's " Memoirs," in the reign of George II. ; if
you had the privilege of i*eading that book you would probably say it
was an extremely sensational book, but, knowing the position which
Lord Hervey occupied in the court and family of George II., I presume
we may take for granted that the extraordinary facts which he relates
are facts ; and if so they would form the basis of a great deal of truthful
history, which would be written of that reign : would not that be so ?

A. It might be so, no doubt.

Q. Then we understand you to mean that in your opinion the roy-
alty system would not cheapen works that you would describe as valu-
able ?

A. I think, on the average of cases, quite the contrary. I believe
the system would raise the prices of the graver books. Ask what a
publisher will say to himself when about to publish a book of that kind,
of which he forms a good opinion : " I have had a high estimate given
of this book. The man is a man to be trusted ; the book possibly will
be a success. Still my experiences of grave books generally are such
that I know the chances are rather against its succeeding. If it should

452 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

be a success, and if I had ten years now to sell the edition, I might
print one thousand ; but, under this arrangement, a grave book not
selling one thousand in three years, or anything like it, it will never do
for me to print one thousand. Should it be much talked about by the
end of three years, there might be a rival edition, and my stock would
be left on my hands. Hence, how that there is this very short time in
which I can sell the book, I must print a smaller number — say five hun-
dred. But if I print five hundred, and expect to get back outlay and
a profit on that small number, I must charge more than I should do
if I printed one thousand and had time to sell them. Therefore the
price must be raised." In the case of a book which did turn out a suc-
cess, it might eventually happen that there would be a cheap edition
issued, and that that raised price would not be permanent ; but this
argument of the publisher with himself would lead him to raise the
price, not only of that book, but of the other grave books which he
published, all of which would stand in the same position of possibly
being successes, but not probably ; and of these, the great mass, the
nine out of ten that did not succeed, the price would remain higher —
would never be lowered. There would not only be that reason for rais-
ing the price : there would be a further one. If a man in the wholesale
book-trade, who puts down his name for a certain number of copies,
knows that a cheaper edition will possibly come out by and b}', the re-
sult will be that he will take a smaller number of copies than he would
otherwise do. At the beginning he may take his twenty-five or thirteen,
as the case may be ; but as the end of the three years is approaching
he will say : " No, I will not take a large number; I must take two or
three." Then, still further, the reader himself will be under the same
bias. He will say : " Well, this book is one I ought to have : I hear it
highly spoken of, but it is probable that there will be by and by a cheap
edition ; I will wait till the end of the three years." That is to say,
both wholesale dealers and readers would earlier stop their purchases,
thinking there might be a cheap edition ; and that would further tend
to diminish the number printed and to raise the price.

Q, {Sir IL Holland). Might it not be that the publisher, instead of
entering into those calculations that you have pointed out, would con-
sider, knowing that other editions may appear : " What is the cheapest
form in which I can print this book ? What can I afford to give the
author consistently with bringing out the cheapest possible book, so
that I may be secure against any other publisher bringing out a cheaper
edition ? "

A. It would be a very reasonable argument, if he knew which, out
of these various books of the graver kind, was going to succeed ; but
since nine out of ten do not succeed — do not succeed, at least, to the
extent of getting to a second edition — do not succeed, therefore, so far
as to make it at all likely that there would be a rival edition, and that
a cheap edition would pay, he will never argue so ; inasmuch as he

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 453

would in that case be printing, of the nine books that would not suc-
ceed suflSciently, a larger edition than he would ever sell. He must
begin in all these cases of doubtful grave books by printing small
editions.

Q. Where an author brings a book to a publisher, the first question
the publisher asks himself is, of course, this : " Is this book likely to
take ? " and then, if he thinks it will take, he has to consider further, in
what degree will it take ? Will it have a large sale or limited sale ?
Because, in each case the book may be a success, though in a different
degree. Then, if it is competent for any other publisher to publish an
edition, it may be assumed that such edition would be a cheap one ;
and, therefore, has not the original publisher this further question to
put to himself : " The book, I think, will take ; but, looking to the
chances of a cheaper edition, I must see what compensation I can give
to the author, publishing this book as cheaply as possible, so that I may
not be underbid hereafter " ?

A. But I think that the experiences of publishers show that it does
not answer their purpose to run the risk of cheap editions with the great
mass of graver books ; inasmuch as nine out of ten of them do not pay
their expenses — and do not pay their expenses, not because of the high
price, but because they do not get into vogue at all. The publisher
would argue, " It will never do to print cheap editions of all these ten,
because one out of the number will succeed."

Q. Of course he does not do so now, because there is not any pos-
sibility of another publisher underbidding him by a cheap edition ; but
I am assuming a case where any publisher, on payment of a royalty, can
publish a cheap edition ; then the original publisher would have to con-
sider, " HoAV cheaply can I publish this edition so that I may not be
underbid by another publisher ? "

A. That, I say, would altogether depend upon the experience of the
publishers as to what was, in the average of cases, the sale of a new
book. In most instances the sale of a new grave book is very small —
not sufficient to pay the expenses ; and I think the publisher would
make a great mistake if, in the case of such a book, he counted upon
getting a large sale at once by a low price. The other argument would,
it seems to me, be the one he would use. In fact, I not only think so,
but I find my publishers think so.

Q. [Chairman). Do you wish to instance any particular case in
which you believe that a fixed rovalty, such as we have heard about,
would have hindered the difixision of a book of permanent value ?

A. Yes, I have an extremely striking, and, I think, wholly conclu-
sive, instance of the fatal efi"ects — the extensive fatal effects — that would
have resulted had there been any such system existing as that proposed.
I refer to the " International Scientific Series." I happen to know all
about the initiation of that. It was set on foot by an American friend
of mine, Professor Youmans, who came over here for the purpose. I

454- THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

aided him, and know the difficulties that were to be contended with,
and a good deal concerning the negotiations. The purpose was to have
a series of books written by the best men of the time, in all the various
sciences, which should treat of certain small divisions of the sciences
that are in states of rapid growth — giving to the public, in popular
form, the highest and latest results ; and it was proposed, as a means
of achieving this end, that there should be an international arrange-
ment, which should secure to authors certain portions of profits coming
from translations, as well as jorofits from originals at home, and the
hope was that some publisher might be obtained who would remunerate
these authors of the highest type at good rates, so as to induce them to
contribute volumes to the series. Well, this attempt, after much trouble,
succeeded. A number of the leading scientific men of England, France,
and Germany, were induced to cooperate. A publisher was found, or
rather publishers here and elsewhere, to enter into the desired arrange-
ments ; and an English publisher was found who offered such terms to
authors in England as led men in the first rank (and I may mention
Professor Huxley, and Professor Tyndall, and Professor Bain, and Pro-
fessor Balfour Stewart, and a great number of others) to promise to
write volumes. These men, I know, were reluctant, as busy men, with
their many avocations, and their incomes to get for their families, would
naturally be, and were induced to enter into the scheme only on its be-
ing made manifest to them that they would reap good profits. The
English publisher offered a twenty per cent, commission on the retail
price, paid down on first publication, and for every subsequent edition
paid six months after date ; and there were certain smaller percentages
to come from abroad. Now, the English publisher proposed to give
those terms, knowing that it would be impossible for him to get back
his outlay unless he had a number of years in which to do it. He had
to stereotype, he had to pay at once these sums to authors, and he had
to publish the books at a cheap rate ; for, by the way, I ought to have
said that part of the plan was that these books should be sold at low
prices : I may instance a volume of four hundred and twenty pages for
five shillings. These terms would, I take it, have been absolutely out
of the question had there been such an arrangement as that under which
the publisher, instead of having many years to recoup himself, would
have had rival editions to compete with in the space of three years. I
do not, however, put that as an opinion. I have taken the precaution
to obtain from Mr. King, the publisher, a definite answer on this point.
This is the paragraph of his letter which is specially relevant : "Authors
can have no difficulty in proving that this " (meaning the system which
I told him was proposed) " would be most unjust to them, a confiscation,
in fact, of their property ; but I, from a publisher's point of view, should
like to declare that the terms on which my firm have undertaken the
' International Scientific Series ' would be impossible on such a limita-
tion." NoAv here, then, we have a series of highly valuable books, I

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 455

think of the kind specially to be encouraged, amounting to between
twenty and thirty already published, and potentially to a much larger
number, which would not have existed at all had there been in force
the arrangement proposed ; inasmuch as the publisher affirms that he
would not have offered such terms, and I can testify that, in the absence
of terms as tempting as those, authors would not have agreed to coop-
erate.

Q, {Sir H. Holland). Was Mr. King made aware that there Avould
be a limited time within which each volume would be protected ?

A. Yes, three years. He did not count upon anything like adequate
return in that time. He says, " We are a long way off profit as yet
on the series" (I think it is nearly five years since it commenced),
" although I am convinced that ultimately "we and the authors, too, will
be well satisfied."

Q. That would raise the question which I wanted to put, whether
in a case like that it would have been possible to publish a cheaper
edition than the one now published ?

A. Yes, in the absence of the author's twenty per cent.

Q. In the case which you have brought to our notice, may we assume
that the cheapest form of edition was published consistently with fair
profit to the author and publisher ?

A. I think, certainly, with anything like a tolerable mode of getting
up. Of course, you may bring dow^n a thing to rubbishing type and
straw paper ; but I was speaking of a presentable book. They are very
cheap for presentable books.

Q. That, perhaps, would be one of the evils arising from a system
of royalty, that you would get extremely bad and incorrect editions
published of a book, even in the first instance ?

A. Very likely.

Q. Because it would be the publisher's object, if that system were
thoroughly established, to publish such an edition that another pub-
lisher could not underbid him at the end of the three years ; that would
be, would it not, the general object of the publisher ?

A. Yes.

Q. In this case I understand you to say that he could not, consis-
tently with fair profits to the author and publisher, and consistently
with its being a properly printed w^ork, without which a work of that
kind would be of very little value, have published a cheaper edition ?

A. He could not.

Q: And yet he would not have been able to publish such an edition
if he had to run the risk of being underbid ?

A. Certainly not. He says, " I confess my idea, in proposing such
terms as those of the ' International Scientific Series,' looked forward to
a yearly increasing interest in scientific literature, and an ever-enlarging
circle of readers able to appreciate books of a high class." So he was
looking for a distant effect.

456 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Q. I am anxious, as Mr. King is not here, to get your own opinion
upon that point : do you concur in his views ?

A. Yes, certainly.

Q. {Chairman). Have you any further reasons for thinking that
measures of the kind which we have been discussing, taken in the in-
terest of cheapening books, might end in doing the reverse ?

A. I think there is another way in which there would be a general
operation of this system of rival editions, which would have, indirectly,
the effect of raising the prices all round ; namely, the waste of stock.
It would inevitably happen that every publisher of an original edition
would, from time to time, have a rival edition make its appearance before
his edition was sold. In that case his remnant of an edition, gotten up
in a relatively expensive style, would either have to be not sold at all
or sold at a sacrifice. Further, it would happen from time to time
that two publishers, unknown to one another, would issue rival edi-
tions, both of which would not be demanded ; there would therefore
be a waste of stock. Evidently the system of competing with one
another in the dark would continually lead to production in excess of
demand. What would be the result ? If there is an increased per-
centage of waste stock, that has somehow to be paid for, if business is
to be carried on at all. And as we know that tradesmen have to raise
their average prices to cover their bad debts, so, if publishers find an
increase of bad stock, they must raise their prices to cover the loss on
bad stock.

Q. (ilTr. Trollope). Would not the ordinary laws of trade correct
such an evil ?

A. This interference with the laws of trade would entail an abnormal
production of waste stock. Under the present system a publisher does
not publish a cheap edition till the other is gone ; but under the pro-
posed system, with cheap copies perhaps sent from the colonies, there
must be waste stock.

Q. When the system had been in operation for a time, do you not
consider that that evil would correct itself by the ordinary laws of
trade ? We are aware that at first the disruption of an existing state
of things will create much confusion, and such evil as you have de-
scribed ; but are you not of opinion that this would rectify itself after
a time ?

A. I do not see how it could rectify itself, if the system of rival
editions continued, and operated in the way that it is expected to do.
But as I have already indicated by certain hypothetical remarks, I do
not think it would continue and operate in that way. I say, however,
that if rival editions were issued by men not knowing each other's do-
ings, there must from time to time occur in the business of each pub-
lisher loss of stock.

Q. {Chairman). From the answer to the last question that has
been put by Mr. Trollope, I gather it to be your opinion that the ar-

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 457

rangement would be practically inoperative, so far as the anticipated
competition was concerned ?

A. I think that, after a period of perturbation, a period of fightmg
and general disaster in the publishing business, there would arise a tacit
understanding among publishing houses, which would, in a large degree,
defeat the purpose of the measure ; and I say this on the strength of
definite facts furnished by trade-practices in America. These facts I
have from the before-named American friend, Professor Youmans, with
whom from time to time, when over here, I have had to discuss the
probability of pirated editions of my own books in America. My books
in America are published by a large house there, the Appletons ; and
they deal with me very fairly — pay me as well as any American authors
are paid. I have gathered from Professor Youmans that the danger of
the issue of rival editions of my books in America is very small ; be-
cause there exists among the American publishing houses the under-
standing that, when one house brings out an English book, other houses
will not interfere : the mere circumstance of having been the first to
seize upon a book is held to give a priority, such as is tacitly regarded
as a monopoly. That condition of things has been established through
a process of fighting ; for when it did at first happen that American
houses brought out rival editions of the same English book, or one edi-
tion, rather, after another, that, of course, was a declaration of war be-
tween the two houses, and immediately there was retaliation, and it
ended in a fight. The house attacked revenged itself by issuing, per-
haps, a still cheaper edition, or by doing the like thing with some work
subsequently published by the aggressing house ; and after bleeding
one another in this way for a length of time there resulted a treaty of
peace, and a gradual establishment of this understanding, that they
would respect each other's priorities. If that is what happened in
America, when the only claim that a publisher had to the exclusive
publication of a book was the claim established by prior seizing of it,
iind prior printing, much more will it happen here in England, among
publishers who have paid for their books, or who have entered into ar-
rangements with authors for half profits, or what not. Having estab-
lished certain equitable claims to these books, they will very much more
decidedly fight any houses that interfere with them, by issuing rival
editions. If the men who have ill-founded claims fight, still more will
the men who have well-founded claims fight. Hence there would occur
among the English publishers, when this system came into operation,
a period of warfare lasting, probably, for some 3'ears, and ending in a
peace based on the understanding that any publisher who had brought
out a book would be regarded as having an exclusive claim to it, and
would not be interfered with. The fear of retaliation would prevent
the issue of the rival editions.

Q. (Sir Henry Holland). And therefore would prevent the pub-
lication by a rival publisher of a cheaper edition ?

TOL. XIV. — 30

458 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. Yes.

Q. [Chairmcoi). Then on the grounds that you have explained, you
think the system would become before long wholly inoperative ?

A. Not wholly inoperative, I think : inoperative for good, not in-
operative for evil. In the course of this early phase to be passed
through, in which houses issued rival editions against each other and
got into this state of warfare, it would happen that the weaker would
go to the wall : the smaller publishers would not be able to stand in
the figlit with the larger publishers, and they would tend to fail. And
further, although treaties of peace would be eventually reached between
the more powerful publishers, who would be afraid of each other, and
dare not issue rival editions of each other's books, there would be no
such feeling on the part of large publishers toward small publishers.
If a small publisher happened to issue a successful book, a larger pub-
lisher would have no fear in issuing a rival edition of that. Hence,
therefore, the tendency wovild be for the small publishers to be ruined
from having their successful books taken away from them. But that
would not be the only tendency : there would be a secondary tendency
working the same way. For, after this fighting had gone on a year or
two, it would become notorious among authors that if they published
their books with small publishers they would be in danger of rival edi-
tions, in case of success, being issued by large publishers ; but that,
contrariwise, if they published with large publishers they Avould be in
no danger of rival editions. Hence they would desert the small pub-
lishers ; and in a double way the small publishers would Icse their busi-
ness. We should progress toward a monopoly of a few large houses ;
and the power which such have already of dictating terms to authors
would become still greater.

Q. And if I understand you rightly, the power would be not only to
dictate terms to authors, but of price to the public ?

A. Yes, they would be able to combine. When you got a small
number of publishers, and they could agree to a system of terms, the
public would be powerless against them, and authors would be power-
less against them.

Q. Then, in your opinion, is there au}'^ way by which works could
be cheapened by legislative enactment ?

A. There is one way, and that a way in principle exactly the reverse
of that which is contended for in this measure ; namely, the extension
of copyright. I do not mean the extension in time ; I mean the exten-
sion in area. On this point I am happy to say there appears to be
agreement between the two sides. From the evidence which I have
read I gather that it is proposed along with this limitation of copyright
in time to extend copyright in area. I do not altogether understand
the theory which, while it ignores an author's equitable claim to the
product of his brain-work in respect of duration, insists upon the equity
of his claim to that product of his brain-work, as extending not only to

THE ENGLISH COPYRIGHT COMMISSION. 459

his own nation but to other nations. However, I am glad to have agree-
ment so far ; and I hold, along with those who support the proposed
measure, that the enlargement of the markets by means of international
copyright would be a very effectual means of cheapening books. It
would be a more effectual means of cheapening books than at lirst ap-
pears, and especially a means of cheapening the best books. I may
refer asrain to this " International Scientific Series." One of the means
by which that series has been made cheap was, that the American pub-
lisher and the English publisher agreed to share between them the cost
of production, in so far as that the American publisher had duplicate
stereotype plates and paid half the cost of setting up the type. Now
it is clear that if the outlay is diminished by having one cost of com-
position for two countries instead of a cost for each, the book can be is-
sued at a lower rate in both countries than it could otherwise be. And
that arrangement, voluntarily made, under a kind of spontaneous copy-
right, in the case of the " International Scientific Series," would be
forced, as it were, upon publishers in the case of an established copy-
right. Consequently there would be habitually an economization of
the cost of production, by dividing it between the two countries ; and
hence there would be a lowering of the price. And then there is the
further fact that this would tell especially upon the more serious books.
On books of a particular kind the chief cost is for paper and print —
large editions being printed. Therefore it does not so much matter in
America having to set up the type afresh. But in the case of a grave
book of which the circulation is small, the cost of composition is the
main element in the cost ; and the economization of that cost, by di-
viding it between England and America, would serve very considerably
to lower the price.

Q. {Dr. Smith). Then, if I understand you aright, you do not ap-
prove of the principle adopted in the Canada Act, in the act passed bj'
the Canadian Legislature of 1875, confirmed by the Imperial Act, by
which it is necessary in order to obtain copyright in Canada that the
works should be set up afresh ?

A. I think that is obviously nothing else than a means of staving
off the opposition of printers, and a very mischievous arrangement.

Q. Would it not be the fact that if a work could be set up once for
all in one country, and circulate in the two countries, the price of the
book would be diminished ?

A.. Unquestionably.

Q. {Sir H. Holland). You are aware of the difficulties that have
been raised by the United States publishers : that constant attempts
liave been made ever since 1854 and before to make a copyright con-
vention, and that there is no very great probability of these attempts
proving successful. Have you any particular suggestion to bring be-
fore the commissioners which would in your opinion tend toward making
the Americans favorable to a convention ?

46o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A. I am sorry to say I do not see my way toward any such sugges-
tion. I was merely replying to the general question whether legislation
could do anything to cheapen books, and saying that the only thing I
thought it could do would be to get, in some way, an extension of area
for copyright.

-♦-»♦-

THE FOEMATIOI^ OF MOUNTAINS.

PROFESSOR ALPHONSE FAVRE, of Geneva, has been making
an interesting series of experiments to illustrate the formation of
the great inequalitiae of the earth's surface by means of lateral thrust
or crushing. These he describes and illustrates in a recent number of
" La Nature," to which we are indebted for the illustrations which ac-
company this article. Professor Favre refers to the early experiments
of Sir James Hall with various kinds of cloth, which he made to assume
a variety of shapes by means of weights. He speaks of the various
theories of the elevation of mountains, and especially of that of H. B.
de Saussure, whose term refoulement seems to have meant much the
same as that used by M. Favre, ecrasement lateral.

" The three systems," M. Favre says, " which account for the origin
of mountains by forces which push the great mineral masses from below
upward, from above downward, or laterally, do not differ so much from
each other as at first sight appears. Those geologists who have ad-
mitted the system of elevations as the principal cause of modification
of the surface of the globe would probably enough admit the forma-
tion of depressions as a secondary modification ; and so those who
have accounted for these modifications mainly by depression, would
probably enough also admit elevation as a secondary factor. Again, in
the system of lateral crushing, there is a general depression of the sur-
face of the earth, since there is a diminution in the length of the radius
of our globe, and yet there result elevations of the ground in the midst
of this general depression.

"The cause of lateral crushing," M. Favre goes on to say, "is owing
to the cooling of the earth. It is, in fact, very probable that our
globe is at the stage when, according to Elie de Beaumont, ' the mean
annual cooling of the mass exceeds that of the surface, and exceeds it
more and more.' It must follow that the external strata of the globe,
tending always to rest on the internal parts, are wrinkled, folded, dislo-
cated, depressed at certain points, and elevated at others.

"The experiments," M. Favre continues, " which I have made at the
works of the Geneva Society for the manufacture of physical instru-
ments, resemble much those of Sir James Hall ; they differ notably, how-
ever, in two points : 1. The celebrated Scotchman caused the matter

THE FORMATION OF MOUNTAINS.

461

Fig. 1.

which he wished to oompress to rest on a body which itself could not be
compressed, while I placed the layer of clay employed in these experi-
ments on a sheet of caoutchouc, tightly stretched, to which I made it
adhere as much as possible ; then I allowed the caoutchouc to resume
its original dimensions. By its contraction the caoutchouc would act
equally on all points of the lower part of the clay, and more or less on
all the mass in the direction of the lateral thrust. 2. Hall compressed,
by a weight, the upper surface of the body which he wished to wrinkle,
which prevented any deformation, while by leaving that surface free,
I have "seen, during the experiment, forms appear similar to those of
hills and mountains which may be observed in various cotmtries. . . .

Ki(i.

"The arrangement of the apparatus is very simple. A sheet of
India rubber 16 mm. in thickness, 12 cm. broad, and 40 cm. long, was
stretched, in most of the experiments, to a length of 60 cm. This was

462

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

covered with a layer of potter's clay in a pasty condition, the thickness
of which varied, according to the experiments, from 35 to 60 mm. It
will be seen from the dimensions indicated that pressure would dimin-
ish the length of the band of clay by one third. This pressure has been
exerted on certain mountains of Savoy. For example, the section
which I have given * of the mountains situated between the Pointe-
Percee and the neighborhood of Bonneville enables it to be seen that
those folded and contorted strata which are shown between Dessy and
the Col du Grand Bernard cover a length which is two thirds of that
which they had before compression. These mountains, then, have been
subjected, like the potter's clay, to a compression indicated by the ratio
of 60 to 40. Contortions are not, perhaps, observed over all the sur-
face of the globe ; it has not been equally folded in all its extent, but
they are found in a great number of countries, and even beneath strata
almost horizontal. Sometimes the folds approach the vertical, and are
close against each other ; this structure indicates that pressure has
been exercised in a stronger manner than I have indicated.

" These powerful lateral thrusts of the external and solid parts of
the globe appear to result from a diminution which the radius of the
interior pasty or fluid nucleus has undergone during millions of ages.
It may have been sufficiently great to cause the solid crust (v/hich
must always have been supported on the interior nucleus, whose vol-
ume continually diminishes) to assume the forms which we know, with
a slowness equal to that of the contraction of the radius.

Fig. 3.

" To return to my experiments. At the extremities of the band of
clay are pieces of wood or supports, which accompany it in its move-
ment of contraction. The clay is thus compressed at once by its adhe-
sion to the caoutchouc and by lateral pressure of the supports. By

' "Bulletin Soeiete Geologique de France," 1875, t. iii., pi. xxii. A. Favre, " Be-
cherches Geologiques," Atlas, pi. ix.

THE FORMATION OF MOUNTAINS, 463

the influence of the caoutchouc alone, without the presence of the
supports, there are formed only slight wrinkles on the surface of a
sheet of clay 3 or 4 cm. in thickness ; and if the supports alone com-
pressed the clay placed on a material which is not compressed (a very
smooth oiled plate), the clay scarcely wrinkles near the center of its
surface ; it increases a little in thickness and forms swellings (boiir-
relets) against the supports. The strata which appear to divide the
masses of clay, and whicli are represented in the figures, are not really
strata, but simply horizontal lines at the surface of the clay."

Such pressure as has been applied in these experiments produces
contortions of strata which elevate the surface of the matter com-
pressed, as well in the plane parts or plains, as in those which take the
forms of valleys, hills, or mountains. These latter have the appearance
of vaults or folds, sometimes perpendicular, sometimes warped [d^-
Jetes) ; the ridges are complete, or broken at the summit by a longi-
tudinal fracture, narrow below and wide above ; next, another frac-
ture, narrow above and wide below, is produced at the base of the
mountain or vault. The sides of valleys are sometimes almost vertical,
sometimes present gentle slopes. The strata are less strongly con-
torted in the lower parts than in the neighborhood of the upper sur-
face. They are disjoined in certain parts by fissures or caverns ; they
are traversed by clefts or faults inclined or vertical. All these defor-

FiG. 4.

mations are the more varied in that they are not similar on the oppo-
site sides of the same band of clay.

Most of these phenomena are seen in Fig. 1, which represents the
result of an experiment made on a band of clay whose thickness before
compression was about 25 mm., while after that it attained 62 mm. at the
culminating point. At a is seen a vault a little broken at the summit,
covering a cavern similar to that figured in the memoir of Sir J. Hall

464 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

(" Transactions R. S. E.," vol. vii., 1813), and to that of the Petit Ber-
nard in Savoy (Favre, " Recherches," pi. x.) ; at 6 is a valley open at
one of its ends and almost closed at the other ; at e is a vault almost
straight, the prolongation of which is very level ; at g, h, and I are
vaults twisted and a little broken, while at i is a broken fold, the
curves of which are almost vertical. All these accidents of the ground
recall those which have been so often observed in the Jura, the Alps,
and the Appalachians.

Fig. 2 represents a band of clay whose thickness was about 40 mm.
before compression and 65 after. We remark contortions similar to
those of the preceding figure, among others a vault «, very exactly
formed. At distances are seen vertical slices, on which the pressure
appears to have acted in a particularly energetic fashion, and which
may be called "zones de refoulement " ; the strata are there broken in
an exceptional manner, often separated from each other. One of these
vaults is replaced by a single vault on the opposite side of the band of
clay.

Before compression, in the band of clay in Fig. 3, were seen the
two divisions which are seen there now — that in the right was 33 cm.
long and 25 mm. thick at a, and 35 at 5y the left division was 25 cm.
long and 65 mm. thick. A gentle slope united the part c to the part b.
After compression, the mean height of a h was 45 and that of c 75 mm.
All the layers were spread horizontally.

" In this experiment I have sought to imitate the effect of crushing at
the limit of a mountain and a plain. The height of the mountain c has
been notably increased, the five or six upper layers have advanced on
the side of the plain ; they encroach on it. The plain has, however,
offered a resistance sufficiently great to cause the strata of the moun-
tain to be strongly inflected at the bottom. From this struggle be-
tween the plain and the mountain there resulted a cushion, <?, which is
the first hill at the foot of the height. It also resulted that the strata
of the plain assumed an appearance of depression at contact with the
mountain in consequence of the vault which is formed at h / they
plunge underneath the mountain. Tliis resembles what is often seen
in the Alps at the junction of the first calcareous chain and the hills
of ' moUasse ' ; in fact, the strata of the latter rock seem to plunge
under those of the neighboring heights. In consequence of the pres-
sure, there are formed several ranges of hills in the plain between h
and a.

"In Fig. 4 the band of clay had, before compression, a thickness of
45 mm. ; after that the culminating point was more than 10 cm. I
have here sought to represent what must happen when terrestrial pres-
sure is exerted on horizontal strata still moist, deposited at the bottom
of a sea where are two mountains already solidified. For this purpose
I placed in the caoutchouc and under the clay two bare cylinders of
wood, a and J, of about 35 mm. radius, at 20 cm. from the ends of the

THE FORMATION OF MOUNTAINS. ■ 465

band of claj, and at the same distance from each other. Before com-
pression the surface of the clay and the strata were completely hori-
zontal. Pressure gave rise at the top of the half-cylinder, a, to a val-
ley, c, formed by a twisting of the beds to the right, and by a little
mountain, d, to the left. But I do not believe that it has ever been
thought to assign to a valley an origin of this nature.

" On the other semi-cylinder, &, is produced an enormous elevation
which has carried the ground to e, with such a rupture that the left
lip, f, g, has suifered a complete reversal by turning, as on a hinge,
around the horizontal line which passes by the point h. It follows
that the four upper strata of clay designated by the figures 1, 2, 3, 4,
being in a normal position before compression, are, after that, so ar-
ranged as to show the succession represented by the following arrange-
ment of figures : 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, making the section of
this formation by a line drawn from x to z. If the left lip should dis-
appear we should then have between the points x and z the section 1,
2, 3, 4, 5, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Sections analogous to these, presenting inver-
sions in the order of strata, are known to geologists.

" The forms assumed by the clay depend on several circumstances
which it is difficult to describe, such as the strength and the rate of
compression, the thickness and the greater or less plasticity of the
clay, etc. Why have accidents of tlie upper surface of the clay, whicli
are intimately connected with those of the interior of the mass, so
small an extension that they are not even similar in the two sides of a
band of clay ? This small continuity is owing to causes which we can
neither foresee nor appreciate. Is it not the same in nature ? Why is
the chain of the Alps not a true chain, but a succession of masses often
oblique with respect to each other? Why, in the Jura, do we see
chains which have for their prolongation plains and valleys? It is
always the case that the forms and structures obtained in these experi-
ments have an incredible resemblance to those which are found on the
surface of the globe. But it must be admitted that many of the latter
have not been reproduced by these artificial crushings.

" It appears probable that, by pressures more powerful and more
variedly eraploj'ed, we might obtain again very different structures.
But I have not thought it necessary to multiply these experiments,
thinking that the varied forms which have resulted show sufficiently
the effects of crushing:." — Nature.

466 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

PLA^^ETAKY KINGS AND NEW STAKS.

By Peofessoe DANIEL VAUGHAN.

THE study of celestial phenomena which represent changes of the
greatest magnitude is an important source of intelligence respect-
ing the course of creation and the diversified condition of the universe.
In all well-directed efforts to explore the more profound secrets of
space and of time, it is necessary to be guided by certain conspicuous
marks which even unseen planets may leave behind them, on assum-
ing new forms or in closing an inconceivably long term of existence.
Within the solar domain there is, perhaps, no object which claims
more interest or value for original inquiries in astronomy than Saturn's
rings — whether they be regarded as presenting a picture of the first
or the last stages of planetary life. With a wide deviation from the
ordinary figure of worlds, they exhibit changes which are interesting on
account of the vast scale on which they occur, and the light which they
throw on the past and the future history of the solar system. In the
absence of those restraints which secure much repose on the surface
of our globe, the Saturnian girdle is abandoned to rage of the most vio-
lent commotions and becomes occasionally the seat of disturbances
which, though transpiring at the distance of about 900,000,000 miles,
are yet revealed by the telescope. The temporary divisions which
have been so often observed in the rings are evidences of the terrific
scenes of turmoil in this remote theatre of chaotic activity ; as the
opening and closing of visible chasms must be attended with physi-
cal convulsions immeasurably greater than any ever witnessed on our
terrestrial abode.

From well-established principles of physical astronomy, it is easy
to prove the impossibility of tranquil movements in a region so close
to the great planet. Whether tenanted by innumerable solid masses
or even by a vast expanse of fluid, the zones in which the Saturnian
sway is so powerful must present a long-continued struggle for op-
posite ends. The matter spread over the wide annular fields is ever
iirged by its own attraction to collect together and form satellites,
which are soon destroyed by the attractive disturbance of the primary,
and have their parts scattered once more over a wide space. From
the gravity due to their preponderating masses, the mountains or in-
equalities observed on the ring can not be prevented from growing at
the expense of the matter along the zone in which they circulate ; but
with the increasing size the vast structures become at last incapable
of sustaining the crushing strain in certain directions ; so that a dilapi-
dation and a dispersion of their materials become inevitable. It is in
consequence of the ephemeral character of these mountains or em-
bryonic satellites, that observations on them have sometimes led as-

PLANETARY RINGS AND NEW STARS. 467

tronoraers to absurd and discordant conclusions in regard to the gen-
eral movements and the stability of the rings.

With the resources which spectrum analysis has conferred on sci-
ence, more advantages are to be expected from inquiries in regard to
the exact nature of the matter of distant space; and the basis for opin-
ions or conclusions in regard to the composition of celestial objects
is more then usually favorable in the case of Saturn's bright rings.
That they are not entirely liquid or gaseous is evident from their ser-
rated edges shown in the observations of Trouvelot, and from the pecu-
liar character of the inequalities observed during their disappearance
by Lassell and other astronomers. And yet there are few solid sub-
stances which could endure the long course of turmoil and ruin without
being reduced to powder, and thus rendered incapable of raising moun-
tainous structures high enough to be visible from our earth. But if
the great annular appendage were largely or wholly composed of water
with a temperature near 32° Fahr., the readiness of the fluid to assume
a frozen condition would be a remedy to the ceaseless work of destruc-
tion, and would give solidity enough to enable incipient satellites to
rise to the height of more than one hundred miles before tumbling to
pieces.

The range of temperature necessary for the continuance of such
operations must be maintained chiefly by the thermal effects with
which they are attended. Any large stock of primitive heat which
(according to the more generally received opinions) the rings might
have possessed at their origin, must have been long since wasted by
radiation from their extensive surfaces. In that remote and frio-id zone
of our planetary domain, the rays of our sun are too feeble to mitigate
the rigors of extreme cold ; and the outer ring at least can obtain but
little calorific relief from the great planet which it environs. But, from
the incessant changes and convulsions in the restless fields of matter,
heat is abundantly produced by the violent mechanical action which, in
a ring of aqueous composition, would proceed in a manner calculated to
give a uniformity of temperature. If such a half-frozen ocean were
abnormally heated throughout much of its vast expanse, so that a large
portion of its ice were liquefied, the water, on obtaining a preponderance,
would perform its movements and fluctuations with less violence and
loss of living force. The heat produced mechanically would be then
less than the amount lost by radiation, and a return of cold would again
give ice the ascendancy. Yet, as the temperature declined and the
freezing extended, mechanical violence would again become more ener-
getic ; and heat would be more copiously developed by the collisions of
icy blocks, and by the rise and fall of gigantic mountains.

Reasoning from the most reliable principles of physics, and guided
by the light of recent discoveries, many eminent scientists have come to
the very just conclusion that the movement in Saturn's rings must be
attended with a loss of energy and a reduction in the size of the orbits

468 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

described by the innumerable disconnected masses of which the curious
appendage is now generally believed to be composed. The opening
and closing of its chasms, and other observed signs of its restless char-
acter, are calculated to give the impression that the extent to which it
is altered during many years must be considerable. But, considering
the conditions necessary for the phenomena it exhibits, it would seem
that the rapidity with which its changes proceed might be approxi-
mately determined from the amount of heat which it radiates into space,
and which must have been, for the most part, produced at the expense
of its motion. Now, though the rings may be principally composed of
water, and have a superficial temperature near the freezing-point, yet,
their surfaces being over a hundred times as extensive as that of the
earth, they may be reasonably supposed to lose by radiation about
thirty times as much heat as our planet receives from the sun and
allows to escape into space. Taking Bessel's estimate for the mass of
the double girdle, it will be found that such an amount of heat might
be generated hy the conflicting movements of its parts without reducing
their orbits more than one per cent, in ten thousand years. There is,
indeed, reason to believe that, in this case, Bessel's results are un-
reliable, in consequence of the uncertain and defective character of the
data with which they were obtained. If we assign to each ring the
probable amount of matter in the neighboring moons of the gigantic
planet, it would seem that their permanent change of size may be so con-
siderable that it might be detected by the observations of a few centuries.
It is likely that, in the inner ring, especially at the zone nearest to
the primary, the temperature is much higher than that which I have
supposed, and that alterations in its condition might proceed at a rate
sufficiently rapid to be discoverable by the telescope. More than twenty
years ago Otto Struve, having carefully compared observations since
the time of Huygens, announced as the result of his labors that the
inner ring is changing its dimensions so rapidly that before two hun-
dred years it will be united to the planet. Other astronomers have
expressed a belief of the recent origin and of the mutable nature of the
obscure or vapor ring which lies closer to Saturn. The conclusions of
Struve, however, have been disputed ; and indeed it is probable that
they give an exaggerated picture of the transitory state of things in
the Saturnian dominions ; nor can the conflict of opinions on this point
be settled by observation alone. But, though taking place too slowly
to be at once detected in this way, the changes in question are still
inevitable ; and they give safe groimd for tracing the history of past
events in this part of the celestial regions. It is evident that the mat-
ter composing Saturn's wonderful appendage must have once moved in
a wider zone, where it could exist only in the form of two secondary
planets. I have shown in a previous article that a dismemberment and
a conversion into a ring must be the general fate of every planetary
body which, by a slow contraction of its orbit, revolves at last too close

PLANETARY RINGS AND NEW STARS. 469

to its pi-imary. From these and other considerations it may be legiti-
mately concluded that the rings of Saturn are the remains of two former
satellites ; and their origin and their present condition must be regarded
as the ultimate consequence of a rare medium disseminated through
space.

Though the dismemberment which I have shown to be inevitable in
small orbits differs, in some features, from that supposed to take place
in the nebular hj'pothesis, yet in tracing the effects of both it is neces-
sary to be guided by certain mathematically demonstrated principles in
regard to stability. Two homogeneous fluid planets varying widely in
size, but having the same density and occupying the same time in their
diurnal movement, would be similar spheroids, or have the same rela-
tive deviation from a true sphere. Stability would cease to be possible
in both if they were as dense as the earth and turned once in two hours
and twenty-five minutes. If they were as rare as hydrogen gas at the
level oT our seas, they could not endure a rotation which took place in
a less time than twenty-five days. In the investigations which I have
given in the "Philosophical Magazine " in regard to secondary planets
close to their primaries, the results have a like generality. Twelve
hours would be very nearly the shortest time of revolution for an homo-
geneous fluid satellite as dense as water, whether its diameter were a
hundred or a thousand miles, or whether it revolved around the earth
or around Jupiter. Such a body, however, would require to be about
thirteen times as dense as its primary in order to circulate in safety a
little beyond the surface of the latter orb. A small satellite composed
of fluid quicksilver would be capable of maintaining a planetary form
if revolving just outside the atmosphere of Saturn or of Neptune ; but
it would be doomed to dismemberment if moving in a similar proximity
to the surface of the earth or even of Jupiter.

The results are not very different even in cases of the greatest pos-
sible deviation from the homogeneous character I have ascribed to the
bodies. If both planet and satellite were composed of rare gas envelop-
ing a central nucleus, the smaller body would require to have an aver-
age density nearly eight times that of the greater, in order to preserve
its integrity in such a dangerous proximity. A modern advocate of the
nebular hypothesis supposes that each planet, when formed from the
rarefied matter of a previous solar ring, was fifteen times less dense than
the sun would be if it were an homogeneous sphere inclosed by the
planetary orbit. In his own words, " After all their contraction during
their condition as rings, and during their aggregation into globes, we
may assume at a moderate estimate that when their rotation began
they were fifteen times less dense than the average density of the sun
expanded to their orbits." To change from a ring to a planet, how-
ever, the nebulous matter should have about one hundred times the
density which the writer ascribes to it. Before it could become dense
enough for the transformation, the nebulous expanse would, like

470 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Saturn's rings, be a prey to great commotions, sustaining a constant
loss of energy and contracting the circles which its parts described
around the sun. In endeavoring to account for the direct motion in
secondary systems, Laplace contends that, in consequence of friction,
the supposed primitive solar rings would have a greater velocity in
their outer than in their inner zones. Now, if friction were so potent
as to counteract to such an extent the normal effects of gravitation, it
must be an eternal bar against the origin of worlds by nebulous dis-
memberment ; and if a ring of attenuated matter were placed under
the circumstances suggested by the eminent astronomer, it would be
ultimately doomed, not to form a planet, but to coalesce with the im-
mense spheroid of fiery vapor which it is supposed to have environed.

For further progress in the task of tracing the course of celestial
events and thus obtaining materials for an astronomical history of
worlds, it is necessary to consider, not only the theory of motion and
stability in comparatively small orbits, but also the effects Avhich a
resisting medium of space may produce during long periods of time.
Though the evidence which cometary motion gives of this rare fluid is
far from being satisfactory, more reliable information on the subject
may be gleaned from other sources, as I pointed out in an article in the
" Philosophical Magazine " for June, 1861. In the September number of
"The Popular Science Monthly " I alluded to the form of Mars as bear-
ing marks of a former rapid rotation which appears to have been con-
siderably reduced by the friction of a space-pervading fluid. But by
far the most acceptable evidence on this question has been lately derived
from the peculiarities of the nearest moon of Mars, as the small size of
its orbit and its brief period of revolution have been ascribed to a resist-
ing medium, even by advocates of the nebular hypothesis. The bearing
of the new discoveries on certain astronomical doctrines has been already
pointed out, in the July number of this journal, by my long-esteemed
friend whose useful life has been since lost to the cause of science.
The efiiects of the space-pervading fluid will appear more decided if we
regard the diminutive satellites as former asteroids which became so far
a prey to the Martian attraction as to be reduced to their present sub-
ordinate condition. Such views respecting their origin were first sug-
gested by Prof. Kirkwood, and were subsequently advocated by Prof.
Alexander in a paper read before the National Academy of Science.

The possibility that some straggling fragments from the ruins of one
world might become the satellites of another, depends on a principle
which has been long applied in tracing the origin of the cometary mem-
bers of the solar family. It has been maintained by Laplace that
comets were at first strangers in our system, and that many of them,
coming from remote interstellar regions and entering the sphere of the
sun's attraction, obtained a permanent domicile in his extensive domain ;
their orbits being changed from hyperboles to ellipses chiefly by some
planetary disturbances. There would, however, be less probability that

PLANETARY RINGS AND NEW STARS. 471

a small asteroid would become a satellite to Mars on passing through
the region over which his attraction is effective ; as the change would
depend mainly on the intervention of solar influence, and would require
rare conditions which the movements of many hundred asteroids could
furnish only during long periods of time. But it may be considered
certain that a moon obtained in this way must have had its primitive
path so very extensive, that its revolution occupied a term of several
months. Accordingly, if the asteroidal origin of the Martian moons be
adopted, their present condition must be indicative of greater devia-
tions from their primitive arrangement ; and it is evident that their
early large orbits could be reduced to the present small size only by a
resisting medium. This theory is, perhaps, not wholly proof against
all objections, but another which accounts better for the movements of
botli small secondaries in the plane of the equator of the planet, and
which I intend to set forth in a future article, involves also the neces-
sity of supposing the imperfect vacuity of celestial space.

As, in traversing a rare medium, such small masses must lose more
velocity in one year than our globe would in many centuries under the
same circumstances, they afford the most available means for indicating
the slow alterations in the state of the universe. Jn the absence of
the diversified cases which are, no doubt, concealed from our knowledge
in distant solar systems, the small moons will serve as the means of
illustration of the ultimate effects of the slight but constant resistance
to celestial motion. It is evident that not many million years can
elapse before Phobos will have its orbit so far reduced that it will
sweep through the atmosphere of Mars, and then its career as a small
secondary world will close with a meteoric exhibition. A term of ex-
istence several hundred times longer must be ascribed to our moon, or
to the first satellite of Jupiter; but their end would be signalized by
a far greater display of meteoric effulgence. A secondary planet two
or three thousand miles in diameter, even if solid, would become unsta-
ble before coming in contact with its primary, and would undergo a
sudden dilapidation ; so that a numberless host of its fragments, scat-
tering into smaller orbits and plunging as meteors into the atmosphere
of the great central orb, would send forth a flood of brilliancy sufficient
to rival solar light, and to proclaim the great work of destruction to
the most distant parts of the universe.

The paroxysmal manifestation of light which a planet could scarcely
fail to call forth in thus passing through its final stages of existence,
corresponds in every feature to the mysterious effulgence of temporary
stars. The accordance of the theory with facts appears more satisfac-
tory, in proportion as the problems involved in the inquiry are more ac-
curately solved with the aids of mathematics, and as new means of
observation reveal the true nature of these rare and transitory appari-
tions of stellar light in the skies. The theatre of one of the great
meteoric exhibitions in question may be the aerial envelope, not only

472 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of a large planet or a vast dark central body presiding over unseen
planetary members, but even the corona and the photosphere of a sun.
Whenever any of the large members of a solar or of a secondary sys-
tem become unstable in too small an orbit, a vast portion of its dilapi-
dated mass would be quickly sweeping as innumerable meteors through
the atmosphere of the immense primary sphere. This accounts for the
incipient brilliancy of the temporary stars, a fact hitherto unexplained,
though it is generally admitted, and though it has been recognized by
a hio'h authority as a valuable guide in the study of these mysterious
phenomena. " The circumstance," says Humboldt, " that nearly all the
new stars burst forth at once with extreme brilliancy as stars of the
first magnitude, and even with still stronger scintillations, and that
they do not appear, at least to the naked eye, to increase gradually in
brightness, is in my opinion a singular peculiarity, and one well deserv-
ing of consideration." Recent discoveries, though calling for some
modification in this statement, detract little from its value ; for the
three new stars of the present century, though all below the first mag-
nitude, yet showed their greatest effulgence at an early period of their
visibility, and afterward exhibited a constant decline. According to
the present theory, a rapid weakening of brilliancy in these objects
would be an inevitable result : as a large portion of the meteors must
have been successively precipitated to the surface of the great central
sphere ; while the balance assumed a closer array, changing their orbits
into circles and forming a solar or a planetary ring.

The most favorable circumstances for such sudden outbursts of light
are presented in cases where, in mass and size, the subordinate world
is little more than one per cent, of the solar or the primary orb with
which it is doomed to incorporate. If, for instance, our moon were
caused to revolve so near us that it would be rendered unstable by
terrestrial attraction, its dismemberment, though occurring on a large
scale, would be confined to the region nearest to the earth. A vast
portion of the lunar matter torn from this locality would be hurled to
our globe or would fly as innumerable meteors through our atmosphere.
But the remainder of our satellite would retire to a greater distance
from the earth ; and millions of centuries would elapse before it be-
came again close enough to our world to suffer another great dilapida-
tion and to give occasion for another gigantic display of meteoric light.
It would thus appear that many great luminous exhibitions would at-
tend the awful paroxysms with which a large planet passes away from
the stage of existence in a solar or in a secondary system. Though a
small satellite, if fluid, may meet its final doom in an obscure manner,
yet, if solid, it would be likely to maintain a planetary form until it
came very close to the primary ; so that on its dilapidation a large por-
tion of the resulting fragments would sweep through the atmosphere of
the latter and call forth a sudden effulgence which in very remote worlds
would appear as the transitory glare of a temporary star in the firmament.

PLANETARY RINGS AND NEW STARS. 473

la carefully tracing the conspicuous scenes which must mark the
end of a planetary career, and thus obtaining a more correct interpre-
tation of the rare and mysterious characters occasionally inscribed in
our skies, very interesting information may be obtained of the diversi-
fied contents of space, and the long term of existence assigned to each
of the numerous worlds of creation. If the dominions of other suns be
equally rich as our solar region in mundane objects, it may not be ex-
travagant to suppose that, in our universe, the large primary and sec-
ondary planets enlivened by the genial influence of more than twenty
millions of stellar bodies might equal in number half the population of
our globe. Now. the average mortality in the human family is about
one death every second, while astronomical records show that only
twenty-three temporary stars appeared within the past two thousand
years. Taking their appearance as records of planetary fate, it would
follow that a century is as small a part of the career of a planet as two
seconds is of human life ; and that the few thousand years in which
the history of our race is comprised is scarcely two minutes in the im-
measurable age of our world.

Yet these considerations will perhaps give an inadequate idea of the
long endurance of the great works in creation's wide domain. Accord-
ing to the opinions of Laplace, besides the systems over which visible
stars preside, there are others, equally numerous in which the central
bodies, though of sunlike magnitude, are not self-luminous. Madler
and Bessel embraced similar views. Those who believe, with Helm-
holtz, that a sun's heat and light are produced by the contraction of its
mass, and that solar activity has a limited duration, might be naturally
led to consider dark systems a hundred or even a thousand times as
numerous as those which are illuminated. Yet I think it more reason-
able to take the moderate estimate of Laplace for the comparative
numbers of the dark and the bright occupants of space. But it is,
moreover, necessary to consider that great planets and satellites meet
their ultimate doom by a number of dismemberments and great mete-
oric scenes, each separated by intervals of many millions of centiiries.
Taking all these circumstances into account, the age of a world, as in-
ferred from the observed indications of catastrophes in the heavens,
may reach as high as 500,000,000,000 years.

If the feelings of some readers will revolt from the idea of having a
primary or even a secondary mundane orb occasionally sacrificed in
some part of the wide celestial domain, they must be powerfully
shocked by the views of Dr. Croll, who gives destruction a far more
oppressive sway over the great works of creation, when he regards the
collisions of suns as the normal means of perpetuating the economy of
nature. If the great centers of unfailing light were thus hurled into
ruin, their attendant worlds, if saved from a worse fate, would be sent
adrift in hyperbolic orbits and doomed to a long pilgrimage in the cold
interstellar regions. Without denying the possibility of such rare and

VOL. XIT. — 31

474 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

terrific convulsions, I must pronounce it as certain that they can not
have any part in giving birth to the new stars which astonished Tj'cho
Brahe and Kepler, or to those which have blazed forth in the heavens
in our own times. Though the greater cosmical bodies might, as Dr.
Croll supposes, be heated by collisions so intensely as to be capable of
diffusing heat and light for many millions of years, they could not
undergo the rapid decline of brilliancy which temporary stars exhibit.
Lockyer takes similar grounds in speaking of Nova-Cj'gni, " We are
driven," says he, " from the idea that these phenomena are produced
by the incandescence of large masses of matter, for, if so produced, the
running down of brilliancy would be exceedingly slow," A planetary
wreck, incorporating with the sun in the manner I have described,
woiild sweep through his external matter at the rate of about two hun-
dred and eighty miles a second. The heat produced mechanically at
the expense of this high velocity would not be so great in quantity as
that which might be expected from Dr. Croll's solar encounters ; but,
being confined to a very limited zone, it would attain much greater
intensity, be more effective for dissociation, and prove a more efficient
means for giving nebulae their existence and the peculiar character
which they exhibit.

Since spectrum analysis has been brought to bear on the new stars,
the doctrine of their meteoric origin has obtained more currency in as-
tronomical circles. Though the incorporation of a remote world with a
greater sphere around which it previously revolved has been suggested
as the cause of such meteoric action, the idea has been somewhat un-
productive, in consequence of the loose manner in which inquiries on
the subject have been conducted, and the little care which has been
taken for obtaining correct solutions for the problems of motion and
stability involved in the questions at issue. The consequences of in-
stability and dismemberment in small orbits have been generally over-
looked. Recent developments, however, show some steps for correct-
ing the early errors and oversights in this new field of investigation.
In his recent work on " The Struggle for Existence in the Heavens,"
Du Prel (alluding to the ultimate doom of the earth near the center of
our system) states that our world will end its career, not as one gigan-
tic meteor, but as numberless meteoric fragments ; and then the great
shower of stones in the solar atmosphere will show the inhabitants of
some very remote orb such a spectacle as was to be seen by terrestrial
astronomers in the constellation of Corona on the 12th of May, 1866.
A similar conclusion has been expressed frequently in my writings
during the past twenty-five years, especially in my papers published
in the reports of the British Association for 1857 and 1861, and in
my communications in the " Philosophical Magazine " for 1858, 1861,
and 1872.

The meteoric phenomena of distant space may be profitably studied
in connection with those to be seen on a diminutive scale in our at-

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 475

mosphere. The visits of shooting-stars to the earth have been lately
brouo-ht within the province of astronomy, and numbers of these bright
objects, which take part in extraordinary showers, have been found
to come from the tracks of certain comets. It would, accordingly,
seem that cometary bodies have portions of their matter separated
from them, and occasionally sent as meteors into the atmospheres of
the planets. The dismemberment which, in such cases, is occasioned
by the heat, and more rarely by the attraction of the sun, is analogous
to that which planets would suffer in very narrow orbits ; but it occurs
on a scale infinitely smaller, and can never be productive of any very
conspicuous results. The greatest exhibition of shooting-stars in our
atmosphere could never be observed from any of the neighboring plan-
ets ; and, if armies of meteors were sent from many systems to invade
a single one, and had their orbits and positions, best arranged for a
simultaneous charge on the atmosphere of one of its larger orbs, the
light which they could produce would fail to exhibit the remarkable
features observed in incipient brightness and the gradual decline of
temporary stars.

♦*»

THE OLD PHKENOLOGY AND THE NEW.

By Dr. ANDKEW WILSON.

THERE has ever lain a strange fascination, for culture and ignorance
alike, in the attempt to diagnose the intellect and character of
man from the outward manifestations of his face and skull. The prob-
lem of character and its interpretation is as old as Plato, and may prob-
ably be shown to be more ancient still. Egyptian soothsayers and
Babylonian astrologers were hardly likely to have omitted the indexing
of character as a profitable and at the same time legitimate exercise of
their art. The forecasting of f utvire events and the casting of nativities
were studies likely enough to bear a friendly relationship to the deter-
mination of character from face, from fingers, or from skull and brain
itself. But the histories of palmistry and soothsaying, with that of
physiognomy, are they not all writ in the encyclop.'edias ? We shall
not occupy space with an historical resicme of the efforts of philosophy
in swaddling-clothes attempting to wrestle with the great problem of
mind and matter ; nor shall we at present venture to oppose a scientific
denial to Shakespeare's dictum that

.... there's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face.

Darwin's " Expression of the Emotions," the development of facial
contortions, and the interesting study of the genesis of smiles and tears,
and of the thousand and one signs which make up the visible and emo-

476 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tional life of humanity, may form a subject for treatment hereafter. Our
present study concerns the deeper but not less interesting problem of
the indexing of mind, and of the relations of brain-conformation and
brain-structure to character and disposition. If there exists no art " to
find the mind's construction in the face," Lavater notwithstanding, may
we discover " the mind's construction in the skull " ? If the old phre-
nology, or the science of brain-pans, be regarded as practically obsolete
among physiologists and scientific men at large, what hopes of success-
fully estimating the "coinage of the brain" may the new phrenology
be said to hold out ? To this interesting question, then, let us ask the
reader's attention for a brief period. We may premise that, if the
march in ways phrenological be somewhat bellicose, oiu* journey shall
not be wanting in those mental elements which make for instruction
in a field largely peopled with human hopes and fears.

The professions of phrenology are not by any means so correctly ap-
preciated as might be thought, considering how well known is the name
of the science, and how popular were its tenets within, comparatively
speaking, a few years back. Although the name " phrenology " is but
an echo in the scientific class-rooms, its professors still flourish, mostly
in obscure localities in large towns, and often present themselves as
modern representatives of the Peripatetici, in that they wander from
town to town as traveling philosophers who usually unite a little electro-
biology to their phrenological talents, and throw in an occasional mes-
meric seance by way of offset to the more serious business of the inter-
pretation of character. There are, it is true, phrenological societies
and museums in several of our cities. The latter are chiefly remarkable
for the varied collection of murderers' efiigies and for the extensive
assortment of casts of cranial abnormalities ; the exact relationship of
these contorted images to phrenological science being rarely if ever
made clear to the visitor on the search for knowledge. Now and then
in opticians' windows one sees a wondrous china head whose cubic
capacity is mapped off into square inches, half inches and quarters, of
veneration, ideality, comparison, benevolence, and many other qualities
of mind. The contemplation of such a work of art excites within the
mind of the ingeni;ous observer an idea of the literal awfulness of a
science which dispenses destructiveness by the inch, and which maps
out the bounds of our amativeness by the rule of three ; while the
profundity of its professors may by such a mind be compared only to
that of Butler's savant who

.... could distinguish and divide
A hair, 'twixt south and southwest side.

Nor would the admiration of the ingenuous one be lessened were
he to enter the sanctum of the "professor" of phrenology, and submit
his cranium to the ocular inspection and digital manipulation of the
oracle. The very furnishings of the apartment are mystic, and impress

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 477

or overawe the inquiring mind. Pope's dictum concerning " the proper
study of mankind " embellishes the walls ; and the advice " know thy-
self," meant to be interpreted and taken in a phrenological sense, is
given gratis through the medium of a conspicuous and usually illus-
trated poster. The tattooed head of a New-Zealander ; a few skulls,
occasionally supplemented by a collection of stuffed lizards and other
reptilian curiosities, and invariably flanked by busts of the ancient
philosophers, complete the Eesthetic furnishings of the modern temple
of the delineator of character. To the proprietor, in due time, enters a
certain moiety of the British public in search of knowledge. And
thence issue the patients, each provided for a consideration with a
wondrous chart of their mental disposition, wherein the moral quick-
sands are presumed to be duly marked, and the obliquities of character
stamped, with a view toward future correction and improvement.

How does the phrenological professor succeed very fairly in reading
character ? may be asked at the outset by readers who have had those
parts of their disposition best known to themselves delineated with
accuracy by the oracle. The reply is clear. Not through manipulating
those mysterious " bumps," nor through any occult knowledge of the
brains of his votaries, but simply from a shrewd talent for scanning the
personal appearance and physiognomy of his clients, and by the dex-
terous suggestion of queries bearing on those traits of character which
the features and manner reveal. Your successful phrenologist is in
truth a shrewd physiognomist. His guide to character is in reality tne
face, not the brain-pan. The dress, manners, and deportm.ent of his
clients, and not the gray matter of the cerebrum, form the real basis of
his observations. If any one may be found to doubt how accurately
one's character may be mapped out from its outward manifestations,
let him endeavor to study for a while the acts and deportment of those
with whose " mind's construction " he may be even slightly acquainted,
and he will speedily discover numerous clews to the mental disposition
in common acts and traits which previously had passed utterly unno-
ticed. Such a result accrues speedily to the professed physiognomist
and shrewd observer of men, who, passing his fellows in professional
review before him, speedily discovers types of character to which, with
allowance for special proclivities or traits, his various clients may be
referred. That character may with tolerable success be determined even
from handwriting is a well-known fact ; and it is difficult to see the supe-
riority of the pretensions and claims of phrenology as a guide to charac-
ter over those of the professor of calligraphic philosophy. One of the
most convincing illustrations that even a practical knowledge of brain-
structure is not necessary for the successful delineation of such superficial
traits of character as can alone be determined by the casual observer,
may be found in the fact that very few " professors " of phrenology have
ever studied the brain, while a large proportion may never have seen an
actual brain. A notable example of a successful practice of phrenology

478 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

being carried on independently' of any knowledge -whatever of the
brain, is known to the writer, in the case of a worthy police-sergeant,
who attained tolerable accuracy in the art of reading " the mind's con-
struction," but who had never even seen a brain, and who had the
faintest possible idea of the appearance of that organ. Unless, there-
fore, one may logically maintain that total ignorance of the brain-pan
is compatible with an accurate understanding of its contents and mys-
teries, the successful practice of phrenology must be shown to depend
on other data and other circumstances than are supplied by anatomy
and physiology — these sciences admittedly supplying the foundation of
all that is or can be known regarding the brain, its conformation, struc-
ture, and functions. Empirical science — science falsely so called — will
not hesitate to assert its ability to accurately solve the deepest prob-
lems of character and mind. But the more modest spirit of the true
scientist will hesitate before crediting itself with any such ability, or
even before giving assent to such general rules of character as are ex-
emplified by the saying, " Big head and little wit " ; or by that of the
worthy Fuller, who, in his " Holy and Profane State," remarks that
" often the cockloft is empty in those whom Nature hath built many
stories high."

The fundamental doctrine of the old phrenology is well known to
most of us. Its great doctrine is pictorially illustrated in the china
heads of the opticians' windows, and may be summed up in the state-
ment that different parts or portions of the brain are the organs of dif-
ferent faculties of mind. The brain thus viewed is a storehouse of fac-
ulties and qualities, each faculty possessing a dominion and sphere of its
own among the cerebral substance, and having its confines as rigidly
defined as are the boundaries of certain actual provinces in the East,
the status of which has afforded matter for serious comment of late
among the nations at large. Thus, if phrenology be credited with ma-
terializing mind in the grossest possible fashion, its votaries have them-
selves and their science to thank for the aspersion. If it be maintained
that feelings of destructiveness reside above the ear, then must we local-
ize the desire to kill or destroy in so much brain-substance as lies in-
cluded in the " bump " in question. When vainglory besets us, we
must hold, if we are phrenologists, that there is a molecular stirrage
and activity of brain-particles beneath a certain bump of " self-esteem "
situated above and in front of the ear ; while feelings of veneration, of
hope, or of wonder, are each to be regarded as causing a defined play
of action in particular bumps and special quarters of the brain. Were
the deductions of phrenology true, or were its claims to be regarded as
a science founded on definite grounds, mind could no longer be regarded
as a mystery, since it would be within the power of the phrenologist to
assert that, when swayed by emotions of one kind or another, he could
declare which part of the brain was being affected. This declaration
logically follows upon that which maintains the localization of faculties

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 479

in diflferent parts of the brain ; but it is a conclusion at the same time
from which Physiology simply retires in outspoken disdain, as present-
ing us with an empirical explanation of mysteries to which the furthest
science has as yet failed to attain.

That we may duly understand, not merely the falsity of the old
phrenology, but the bearings of the new aspects of brain-science as
revealed by modern physiology, we must briefly glance at the general
conformation of the brain. The organ of mind, contained within the
skull, consists of the greater brain or cerebrum (Fig. 1, A A), and the
lesser brain or ccrehelhmi {B). The latter portion is situated at the

Fig. 1.— Side View of the Brain and Spinal Cord. — (From Bourgery.) A, the cerebrum; 2?,
the ce rebel hi in ; M.O, the mednlla oblongata; F, the vertebrse, cut in halves; f, the spinal
cord, and the origin of its nerves.

back of the head, and forms the hinder part of the brain ; the spinal
cord ( (7), which, as every one knows, runs through the spine ( F" V),
being merely a continuation of the main axis of the nervous centers of
which the brain is the chief. When the surface of the human brain is
inspected, it is seen to present a very unequal appearance, due to the
fact that its substance is thrown into a large number of folds or con-
volutions (see Fig. 1), as they are technically named by the anatomist.
The brain, or cerebrum, is in reality a double organ, formed of two
similar halves or hemispheres, which are separated by a deep central
fissure, but which are also connected together below by a broad band of
nervous matter known as the corpus callosum. It is this latter band
which brings the halves of the brain into relation with one another, and
which thus serves to produce identity and correlation of action between
its various parts.

48o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

To the nature of the convolutions our especial attention must be
directed. The brain-substance consists of gray and white nervous
matter. The gray matter forms the outermost layer of the brain-
substance, and incloses the white ; the opposite arrangement being
seen, curiously enough, in the spinal cord. Now, one evident purpose
of the convolutions of the brain is to largely increase the amount of its
gray matter relatively to the space in which the organ of mind is con-
tained ; while the perfect nutrition of the brain is also thus provided
for through its convoluted structure permitting a fuller distribution of
the minute blood-vessels which supply the brain with the vital fluid. It
is a very noteworthy fact that the structure of the gray matter differs
materially from that of the white. In the gray matter nerve-cells are
found in addition to nervous fibers, the former originating nervous
force, while the latter are simply capable of conveying this subtile force.
Thus it may be said that it is in the gray matter that thought is chiefly
evolved, and from this layer that purposive actions spring. The white
matter, on the other hand, merely conveys nerve-force and nervous im-
pressions, and is thus physiologically inferior in its nature to the gray
substance. The observations of Gratiolet, Marshall, and Wagner seem
to leave no room for doubt that the convolutions of the brain increase
with culture, and are therefore more numerous and deeper in civilized
than in savage races of men. It is curious, however, to observe that
certain groups of quadrupeds are normally " smooth-brained," and pos-
sess few or no convolutions. Such are rats, mice, and the rodents or
"gnawing" animals at large, and it can hardly be maintained that
in those animals intelligence is normally low or instinct primitive —
although, indeed, the just comparison of human with lower instincts
must be founded on a broader basis than is presented by this single
anatomical fact.

A final observation concerning the anatomy of the brain relates to
its size and weight as connected with the intelligence. The phre-
nological doctrine of the disposition of the faculties must be held to
include the idea that the larger the brain, the better specialized should
be the mental quahties of the individual ; the greater the amount of
brain-substance forming the good and bad qualities and regions of the
phrenologist, the more active should be the mental organization. Now,
it is a patent fact that this rule tells strongly against the phrenologist's
assumption. True, various great men have had large brains ; but cases
of great men possessing small brains are equally common, as also are
instances where insanity and idiocy were associated with brains of large
size. The normal average human male brain weighs from 49 to 50
ounces ; man's brain being ten per cent, heavier than that of woman.
Cuvier's brain weighed 64|^ ounces ; that of Dr. Abercrombie 63 ounces ;
that of Spurzheim, of phrenological fame, 55 ounces ; Professor Good-
sir's brain attained a weight of 57|^ ounces ; Sir J, Y, Simpson's
weighed 54 ounces ; that of Agassiz 63'4 ounces ; and that of Dr.

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 481

Chalmers 53 ounces. As instances of high brain-weights, without cor-
responding intellectual endowment, may be mentioned four brains
weighed by.Peacock, the weights of which varied from 67'5 to 61 ounces.
Several insane persons have had brains of 64| ounces, 63 ounces, 61
ounces, and 60 ounces, as related by Bucknill, Thurnam, and others.
With respect to the brain-weights of the fair sex, anatomical authority
asserts that in women with brains weighing 55'25 ounces and 50 ounces,
no marked intellectual features were noted. Below 30 ounces, the
human brain becomes idiotic in character, so that there appears to ex-
ist a minimum weight, below which rational mental action is unknown.
The anatomist's conclusions regarding brain capacity and mental en-
dowments are therefore plain. He maintains that the size and weight
of the organ do not of themselves afford any reliable grounds for an
estimate of the mental endowments, while his researches also prove that
a large brain and high intellectual powers are not necessarily or in-
variably associated together.

The foregoing details will be found to assist us in our criticism of
the pretensions of the old phrenology as a basis for estimating " the
mind's construction " and the mental habits of man. Primarily, let us
inquire if development — that great criterion of the nature of living
structure — lends any countenance to the idea that the brain is a collec-
tion of organs such as the phrenologist asserts it to be. The brain of
man, like that of all other backboned animals, appears to begin its his-
tory in a certain delicate streak or furrow which is developed on the
surface of the matter of the germ. Within this furrow the brain and
spinal cord are at first represented by an elongated strip of nervous
matter, which strip, as the furrow closes to form a tube, also becomes
tubular, and incloses within it, as the hollow of the tube, the little
canal which persists in the center of the spinal cord. The front part
of this nervous tube, which soon exhibits a division into gray and white
matter, now begins to expand so as to form three swellings named
vesicles. From these vesicles the brain and its parts are formed. The
foremost swelling soon produces the parts known as the optic lobes,
and also the structures which are destined to form the hemispheres or
halves of the brain itself. The middle swelling contributes to the
formation of certain important structures of the brain ; and finally the
cerebellum or lesser brain, along with the upper part of the spinal cord
and other structures, appear as the result of the full development of the
hinder or tliird swelling. Nor must we neglect to note that at first the
human brain is completely smooth and destitute of convolutions, and
only acquires its convoluted appearance toward the completion of de-
velopment.

It is now an appropriate duty to inquire if the liistory of the brain's
growth affords any countenance or support to the phrenological divi-
sion of the organ into some thirty -five different organs and seats of fac-
ulties. The query is further a perfectly legitimate one. The phrenolo-

482 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

gist maintains the actuality of his deductions respecting the "organs"
of mind, and it is only a fair and just expectation that, if the brain be a
congeries of such organs, the anatomist should be able to see these parts
as development has revealed them. The nature of the brain is asserted
by the phrenologist to exist in its composition as a set of organs. That
nature, argues the anatomist, if revealed at all, should present itself in
its development, which alone can show us nature's true fashion of build-
ing a brain. What, therefore, is the result of the anatomist's study of
the manner in which the brain is fashioned ? The answer is found in
the statement that there is not a trace of a single " organ " such as the
phrenologist theoretically maintains is represented in the brain. There
is no division into separate parts and portions, as the phrenologist's chart
would lead the observer to suppose. The scalpel of the anatomist can
nowhere discover in the full-grown brain an organ of veneration, or of
hope, or of language, or of destructiveness, or of any other mental fea-
ture : nor can his microscope detect in nature's wondrous process of
fashioning the brain any reason for the belief that the organ of mind is
a collection of parts each devoted to the exercise of a special quality of
mind. The arrangement which appears so clear on the phrenologist's
bust is nowhere represented in the brain itself. And the organs of the
phrenologist, in so far as their existence is concerned, may not inaptly
be described in Butler's words as being

Such as take lodgings in a head
That's to be let unfurnished.

But if development gives no support to the phrenological assertion
of the brain's division into organs of the mind, neither does anatomy,
human and comparative, countenance its tenets as applied to the exam-
ination of the brain-pan itself. To select a very plain method of test-
ing the deductions of phrenology, let an anatomical plate of the upper
surface of the undisturbed brain be exhibited, and, having settled the
position of certain " organs " from a phrenological chart, let any one
try to discover if the limits of any one organ can be discerned on the
brain -surface. He will then clearly appreciate the hojoeless nature of
the task he has undertaken, and be ready to shrink from the attempt
to resolve the complex convolutions before him into a square inch here
of one faculty, or a square inch there of another. Moreover, one very
important consideration will dawn upon the reflective mind which con-
siders that the convolutions of the brain are not limited to the crown
and sides of the head, but, on the contrary, extend over the entire sur-
face of the cerebrum, and are developed on its base (see Fig. 2). No
phrenologist has attempted, it is true, to get at the base of the brain
by inspecting the palate ; but it would be regarded as an absurd and
unwarrantable statement to assert that the base of the brain has no
functions, and that the mind of man is located only at the top and on
the sides of the head. Yet the phrenologist is in the position of one

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 483

making' such an assertion, since his science takes no account of the
base or internal parts of the brain — situations, forsooth, in which anat-
omy and the newer phrenology demonstrate the existence of very im-
portant sensory and other organs. Tlie question of tho relatively in\-

FiG. 2.— The Base of the Brain.— (From Bouvgery.) C. under surface of the cerebrum ; c5, the
cerebellum; wi.cjj, the medulla oblongata. The" nerves are numbered 1 to 12 ; 1, the olfactory
nerve ; 2, the optic ; 3, 4, and 6, nerves which govern the muscles of the eyeball ; 5, the trigem-
inal, which arises as shown by two roots ; 7, the facial ; 8, the auditory ; 9, the glosso-pha-
ryngeal ; 10, thejpneumogastric ; 11, the spinal accessory ; 12; the several roots of the hypo-
glossal. The figure 6 is placed on the pons varolii ; the crura cerebri are between the third and
lourth nerves on either side. Just above are a, the corpora albicanta, and P, the pituitary body.

mense tracts of brain which lie without the utmost ken of phrenology,
even on its own showing, is also illustrated by the observation that
the bulging or hollowing of the skull at any point affords no criterion
of the thickness of the gray matter of the brain, a layer which we have
already seen to constitute the most important part of the brain-sub-
stance. This gray matter is seen to exist in tolerable uniformity
over large tracts of brain-substance, and it is invariably in the hinder
region of the brain that it attains its greatest complexity and develop-
ment. The form of the skull is dependent on the amount and disposi-
tion of the white matter, and not on that of the gray ; and the former,
as we have seen, has but a minor influence or part in the mental con-
stitution, since its function is merely that of conducting and not of
originating thoughts and impressions. Since, then, phrenology lays so
much stress on skull-conformation as a clew to brain- structure, it must

484 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

be regarded as dealing rather with the results of the disposition of the
white matter than with that of the gray — and this latter assumption of
necessity involves a second, namely, that phrenology has no status as a
science of mind at all.

There is one consideration concerning the practical application of
the phrenologist's assertions too important to be overlooted, namely,
the difficulty of detecting or of mapping out on the living head the
various " bumps " or organs of mind which appear to be so lucidly lo-
calized on the bust or chart. The observer, who might naturally think
the determination of the " bumps " an easy matter, has but to try to
reconcile with a phrenological chart, or with the brain-surface itself
(Fig. 1), the configuration of a friend's cranium, and he will then dis-
cover the impossibility of distinguishing where one faculty or organ
ends and where another begins. How, for instance, can the exact limits
of the four or five organs of mind, to be hereafter alluded to more
specifically, which are supposed to exist in the line of the eyebrow, be
determined? What is the criterion of excessive or inferior develop-
ment here, and how may we know when one " encroaches " upon an-
other to the exclusion or atrophy of the latter? The practical applica-
tion of phrenology indeed constitutes one of its difficulties ; and added
to the difficulty or impossibility of accurately mapping out the bounda-
ries of the phrenologist's organs, we must take into account the fact
that we are expected to detail these organs through, in any case, a con-
siderable thickness of scalp, which veils and occludes, as every anato-
mist knows, the intimate conformation of the skull-cap. At the most
the phrenologist may distinguish regions ; his exact examination of the
living head d la phrenological chart or bust is an anatomical impos-
sibility.

But the anatomist has also something of importance to say regard-
ing the actual existence of certain of the "organs" of mind mapped
out by the phrenologist. Leaning trustfully upon their empirical de-
ductions, the phrenologists have frequently localized faculties and
organs of mind upon bony surfaces separated from the brain by an
intervening space of considerable kind. In so far as comparative anat-
omy is concerned, phrenology receives no assistance in its attempt to
localize mind-functions in man. An elephant is admittedly a saga-
cious animal, with a brain worth studying ; just as a cat or tiger pre-
sents us with a disposition in which, if brain-science is applicable, as it
should be, to lower forms of life exhibiting special traits of character,
destructiveness should be well represented and typically illustrated.
Alas for phrenology ! the bump of destructiveness in the feline races re-
solves itself into a mass of jaw-muscles, and the elephant's brain is
placed certainly not within a foot or so of the most skillful of phrenolo-
gical digits. The " frontal sinuses " or great air-spaces in the forehead
bones of the animal intervene between the front of the brain, the region
par excelletice of intellect according to phrenology, and the outside

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 485

layer of the skull. So that an observer could no more accurately con-
struct a phrenological chart of an elephant than he could diagnose the
contents of a warehouse by scanning the exterior of the building.

Not merely, however, are the difficulties of phrenology limited to
the lower animals. Suppose we make a "cross-section of a human skull
throuo-h either the right or left side of the forehead, about half an inch
above the upper border of the orbit or eye cavity. We may then dis-
cover that man as well as the elephant possesses " frontal sinuses " or air-
spaces in his forehead-bone of considerable extent intervening between
the exterior of the skull and the contained brain. Now, in such a sec-
tion of the human skull, what phrenological " organs " shall we cut
through ? Certainly those of " individuality," " form," " size," and " col-
or." In placing such organs across the eyebrows, the phrenologist
might naturally be regarded as having proceeded on the assumption
that he was mapping out on the exterior of the skull a certain part of
the brain-surface. What shall be said of his procedure, however, when
the reader learns that a section of the skull made as indicated through
these organs shows that they — i. e., the " organs " as marked on the
outside of the skull — overlie the hollow spaces or "frontal sinuses," and
are actually separated from the brain by cavities of considerable extent,
in some cases exceeding an inch ? Such a demonstration truly speaks
for itself, and no less so does the anatomist's discovery that the " or-
gan" of phrenologists known as "form" actually reposes in anything
but a noble position on the cavity of the nose ; that the organ of " cal-
culation" is a solid bony {orbital) process ; and that the size of the or-
gan of " language " really depends upon the want of forward projection
of the eye depending on the special development of a bony process on
which the organ of sight rests, and which in any case has nothing what-
ever to do with the brain. Of language more anon ; but enough has
been said to show that a connection with the brain is not an invariable
or apparently necessary condition for the construction of a phrenologi-
cal " organ " of the mind — the fact that the brain is the organ of mind
notwithstanding.

But neither does the case for phrenology fare any better when it is
tested by the results of the examination of crania belonging to persons
whose family or personal history was well known, and whose characters,
in respect of their thorough and stable formation, would therefore serve
as a test of phrenological or any other system of mind-explanation. In
the heyday of phrenological discussion, and in Edinburgh as the very
focus and center of the arguments ^:);'0 and C07i the sj'stem of Gall and
Spurzheim, a Mr. Stone, then President of the Royal Medical Society,
read in 1829 a paper in which the results of a most laborious and con-
scientious series of observations on the crania of well-known persons
were detailed. These results, as will presently be shown, were fatal to
any ideas which might have been entertained regarding the authentic
nature of the data on which phrenological observations were founded.

486 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fifty skulls were selected for measurement from the famous collection
of Sir William Hamilton, fifty others being taken from that of Dr.
Spurzheim himself. In the case of the skulls of fifteen murderers, whose
crimes had been marked by unusual brutality and violence, and who
might therefore be regarded as exemplifying cases in which the large-
ness of the " organ " of destructiveness might be lawfully postulated
by a phrenologist, Mr. Stone demonstrated by careful measurement and
comparison that each of the fifteen had the organ or surface of " de-
structiveness " ahselutely less than the average of ordinary heads, while
thirteen of these skulls possessed this organ relatively less when com-
pared with the whole contents of the brain-pan. Nor was this all. Thir-
teen of these fifteen worthies possessed a larger organ of " benevolence "
than the average, and their " conscientiousness " was also as a rule well
developed. Their brains were not markedly deficient in front of the
ear — the region of the intellectual faculties, according to the phrenolo-
gist— nor were they unusually developed behind the ear, where the ani-
mal faculties are supposed to reside.

No less instructive were the comparisons instituted between the
faculties of Dr. David Gregory, once Professor of Mathematics in the
University of Edinburgh, and Savilian Professor of Astronomy at Ox-
ford, a friend and contemporary of Sir Isaac Newton. Professor Greg-
ory's character was well known as that of an amiable, accomplished,
intellectual man. In such a case the moral faculties would be expected
to present high development, while the animal faculties and baser quali-
ties would naturally be regarded as being but poorly represented. Mr.
Stone's measurements, duly verified by independent observers, elicited
the awkward fact that Dr. Gregory should, according to the phrenologi-
cal interpretation of his cranium, have ranked in the criminal category,
since his organ of " destructiveness " was found to exceed in size that
of every murderer in the collection under discussion ! In proportion to
the general size and form of the brain. Dr. Gregory's " destructiveness "
was larger than that of the notorious Burke, who was executed at
Edinburgh for the cold-blooded murder of men, women, and children,
whose bodies, along with his coadjutor Hare, he sold for purposes of
anatomical inspection. Not to enumerate in detail the startling results
which the fair and unbiased examination of Dr. Gregory's cranium
afforded, it may simply be mentioned that the Professor's " combative-
ness" was larger than that of any of the debased villains with whom
his faculties were compared. Burke equaled him in " benevolence " ;
in " secretiveness " he excelled the noteworthy fifteen; his "acquisi-
tiveness " exceeded that of Haggart and other noted thieves ; his " cau-
sality " — the power of reasoning closely, and of tracing the relations
between cause and efiect, a faculty which as a mathematician he should
have possessed largely developed — was less than that of the criminals;
and his intellectual faculties at large were of less capacity than theirs,
as his animal faculties were present in greater force.

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 48 7

No further illustration is required of the fact that, tested under
exceptionally favorable circumstances, the deductions of phrenology-
are absolutely incorrect, not to say absurd. Nor is the case of the
phrenologists bettered by their exercise of apologetics in face of the
hard logic of the above and similar facts. Thurtell, with very large
" benevolence " and with well-developed " veneration," yet committed
an atrocious murder, and this without a special development of "de-
structiveness." " Nothing can justify the murder," said the phrenolo-
gists, but Thurtell imagined that he would " do a service to society by
killino- his friend" (where his benevolence?) "and hence his crime."
Thus benevolence, by the exercise of phrenological apologetics, be-
comes an excuse for and an active cause of murder. Dr. Gregory's
" destructiveness," said the phrenologists, was held in check by some
other qualities — by which qualities it would be hard to say, seeing that,
tested by phrenology, his whole mental and moral organization was
below that of the average murderer. So that we are to believe, in
short, that " destructiveness," and the other base qualities of the Pro-
fessor, being absolutely useless, must have been intended simply for
show and not for use. Things, on this reasoning, truly are not what
they seem ; and phrenology thuswise cuts away from under itself its
fundamental propositions, that its " organs " are the seats of faculties,
and that their activity is proportional to their size.

But to proceed further would be to slay the slain. Thus much in-
deed we have said of the phrenology which still lingers in our midst,
by way of contrast with the newer order of brain-interpretation which
the advance of physiology has caused to arise among us. In the early
days in which the battle of phrenology was fought and won as against
the science of brain-pans, physiological experimentation upon the brain
was an unknown and unworked source of information. In due time
came Flourens, Magendie, Fritsch, Hitzig, and Ferrier, with their exact
methods and results, enlarging the conceptions of the brain and its
powers, and throwing here and there a ray of light upon the dark
places and hidden corners in the domain of the physiology of mind.
Hence our new " phrenology " — for the word itself is perfectly explicit
as denoting a science of mind or brain — is gradually being built up
from sure data and accurate experimentation, the results arrived at by
one w^orker being tested by a host of fellow-experimenters ere his in-
ferences become facts, and before they are allowed to form part and
parcel of the scienti6c edifice. Let us briefly see what are the more
prominent facts concerning the brain and its functions which recent
science has elucidated.

No part of the brain has perhaps presented problems of such inter-
esting character as the cerebellum or lesser brain which, as already
remarked, exists at the hinder and lower part of the head, and which
moreover presents us with a structure differing from that of the cere-
brum itself. Phrenologists located in the cerebellum the purely animal

488 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

faculties. " A man," as we remember hearing a phrenological lecturer
say, " with a head bulging out behind, is going backward in the world " ;
and there was indeed, as we shall see, a modicum of truth (although he
knew and understood it not) in the lecturer's remark, since without the
cerebellum we could in reality proceed neither forward nor backward.
We now know that the old phrenology of the cerebellum is utterly
wrong and unfounded. The new phrenology has shown us that in
cases of diseased animal appetites, which in our lunatic asylums are
but too frequently represented, the cerebellum is not found to be
affected — a result explained by the fact that the appetites referred to
are indeed as much part of our " mental " constitution as is the exercise
of benevolence or of any other mental faculty. Furthermore, the new
phrenolog}' supplies positive evidence as to the true functions of the
cerebellum. When it is removed from a pigeon, for instance, the ani-
mal retains its faculties, it will feed, it can see and hear, but is utterly
unable to maintain its equilibrium. If thrown into the air, it flaps its
wings in an erratic and aimless fashion. In one word, it can not " co-
ordinate " its movements, that is, it can not so adjust the m.otions of
one set of muscles as to bring them into purposive harmony with an-
other set or series. The cerebellum thus appears to be the great brain-
center Avhence are issued the commands and directions which guide the
muscular actions and movements of our lives. Contrariwise, the true
functions of the cerebellum are proved by experiments in which this
part of the brain has been left intact while the cerebrum or true brain
has been removed — an operation absolutely painless, as will presently
be more particularly mentioned. A bird or higher animal in such a
case will lose all power of volition ; it will be deprived of sight, hear-
ing, and other senses ; it will die of hunger unless fed ; it will exhibit
no desire to move ; and will in short present a condition utterly op-
posed to that seen when the cerebellum is removed and the true brain
left intact. But with its cerebellum present, and minus its true brain,
the bird can perfectly " coordinate " its movements. It will fly straight
if thrown into the air, it will walk circumspectly enough if pushed for-
ward, and will exhibit in fact such perfect muscular control, despite its
want of volition and intellect, that the functions of the cerebellum as a
controller of movements are no longer matter of hypothesis, but have
become stable physiological fact.

If, however, the old phrenology has been displaced from the cere-
bellum by the new, no less important is it to note that, regarding the
functions of the true brain, modern research has been equally success-
ful in deposing the old ideas of the " organs " and their attendant facul-
ties as exhibited on the phrenological charts and busts. Experimenta-
tion on the brain of higher animals, quoad the brain itself, is absolutely
painless — contrary to popular notions and ideas. True, there are cer-
tain parts of the brain which are exceedingly delicate, and in which
the point of a needle would inflict at once a fatal injury. But the

THE OLD PHRENOLOGY AND THE NEW. 489

brain-substance itself is utterly non-sensitive, as every hospital-surgeon
can tell us. Persons may actually recover from serious injuries of the
brain in which several ounces of brain-substance may have been lost,
and recover with good effect, and in many cases without any percepti-
ble alteration of their mental peculiarity. The most notorious case of
this kind is known as " the American crow-bar case." A bar of iron
accidentally shot off from a blast passed through the top of a young
man's head at the left side of the forehead, having traversed the front
part of the left hemisphere or side of the brain. The iron bar measured
three feet in length, and weighed fourteen pounds. After the accident
he felt no pain, and was able to walk without help in a few hours' time.
The man made a good recovery, and for twelve years made a livelihood
by exhibiting himself in the United States, his skull being now pre-
served in the museum of Harvard University. This patient undoubtedly
lost a relatively large portion of his brain-substance. At one fell swoop
there must have been a considerable destruction of phrenological organs.
Yet he suiFered from no deprivation of intelligence ; and few would
dream of associating the drinking habits which finally beset him with
his accident and with his loss of brains, or otherwise maintain that he
was less rational before than after the accident. Thus the misfortunes
of existence and the experimentation of the physiologist positively
contradict the old phrenology, and assert that localization of function
does exist, it is true, but that the " organs " of the phrenologist are
mere theoretical nonentities, without a trace of substance to insure
their stability or real nature.

What amount of localization, then, can be safely assumed to exist
in the human brain as revealed by recent experimentation ? It may be
known to the generality of readers that the movements, acts, and prob-
ably ideas relating to one side of the body are regulated by the oppo-
site side or hemisphere of the brain. Thus, convulsions affecting one
side of the body were shown by Dr. Hughlings Jackson to be caused
by disease of the opposite side, and the idea of the duality of the
brain's action followed in a natural sequence on the observation of facts
like the preceding. Thus, as a general rule, it may be affirmed that
brain-disease itself, or the ideas of natural existence, are so far localized
that their perfect effects are only visible and appreciated when the same
parts in both halves or hemispheres of the brain are affected. To illus-
trate what the new phrenology has to say regarding the localization of
the brain-functions, let us inquire what is known regarding the exceed-
ingly curious condition known as " aphasia." Persons affected with
this lesion understand perfectly what is said to them, but they are ab-
solutely speechless, and can not utter a single word. Now, it is a per-
fectly well-ascertained fact that aphasia is associated with disease of
the front part of the left half or hemisphere of the brain — a part which
may therefore be called the " speech-center." The curious fact must
thus be emphasized that aphasia is invariably associated with disease
\ou xiv. — 32

490 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the left, and never with disease of the right side of the brain. To
the brief explanation of this curious fact we shall presently return ; but
we may in conclusion remark certain facts now known respecting the
locaHzation of other functions. Professor Ferrier, of King's College,
London, employing electricity as the only agent and means of stimula-
tion to which the non-sensitive brain will respond, has succeeded in
mapping out in the brains of higher animals the centers which govern
many of the common movements of life, and which from reasonable
analogy may be presumed to be represented in the human brain as well.
As these acts are the practical outcome of ideas, the parts of the brain
concerned in the production of definite ideas may thus be regarded as
being in one sense mapped out and recognized ; although it is hardly
necessary to remark that the regions of Dr. Ferrier in no wise correspond
to those of the old phrenolog}', while in many cases, indeed, they are
utterly opposed to it. Thus the sense of touch is found to be localized
in the inner surface of the hemispheres of the brain, and this fact alone
tells against the phrenologist, to whom the mere brain-surface is the
brain itself.

Thus the work of localizing movements and important centers of
the senses has so far proceeded with success. There yet remains for
observation the curious case of aphasia or speechlessness, and its loca-
tion in a " speech-center " or " speech-organ " in the front of the left
hemisphere of the brain. It is a noteworthy fact in brain-physiology,
that when an animal has been rendered blind by the destruction of the
sight-center of one side, blindness disappears and sight gradually re-
turns, since the remaining and normal sight-center of the opposite side
assumes the functions of its neighbor. Complete blindness only ensues
when both sight-centers are diseased. The same remark holds good of
the movements of the mouth and tongue in speech, these being " bi-
lateral," so that the center of these latter movements on one side may
be destroyed without causing paralysis of the tongue, provided the cen-
ter of the other side is uninjured. Movements of the hands and feet
are, on the contrary, one-sided. Destruction of one center governing
these latter movements insures complete cessation of the movements
on the opposite side of the body. Now, in aphasia or speechlessness,
we merely perceive the results of the destruction of the single speech-
center — the left — which man normally possesses. Just as we use the
right hand in preference to the left in prehension and in writing, and as
the movements of this hand are regulated by the left side of the brain,
so our faculty of articulation is also unilateral and single-handed, so to
speak. The memory of sounds and words forms the basis of our speech
— "the memory of words is only the memory of certain articulations"
— and those parts of the brain which regulate articulation are also the
memory-centers for speech or the result of articulation. Thus, when
the speech-center is disorganized, not merely the power of articulation
disappears, but also the memory of words. But while the left side is

BACKGAMMON AMONG THE AZTECS. 491

f
that of the speech-center, tliere is no reason, as Dr. Ferrier remarks,
apart from heredity and education, why this should necessarily be so.
" It is quite conceivable," says this author, " that a person who has be-
come aphasic by reason of total and permanent destruction of the left
speech-center may reacquire the faculty of speech by education of the
right articulatory centers." We speak with the left side of our brains,
in short, not because we are unable to do so with the right side, but
simply because habit and the law of likeness together strengthen and
perpetuate the custom of speaking with the left. But it may be also
supposed that, as a left-handed person must regulate the movements of
his arms chiefly by the right side of his brain, so there may exist sub-
jects who naturally use the right instead of the left speech-center.

Whatever results may in future accrue to human knowledge from
researches into the functions of the brain, no one may doubt the all-
important nature of the knowledge which literally enables man to know
himself, and to understand in some degree the mainsprings of the ac-
tions which constitute his daily existence. The subject is also no less
instructive in the sense in which it shows the displacement of erroneous
ideas by new and higher thoughts founded on accurate observation of
the facts of life ; while in a very direct fashion such higher knowledge
may afi'ect suffering humanity, since an educated medical science, fur-
nished with secure data regarding the causes of mental affections, may
successfully " minister to minds diseased," and even in due time raze
out the troubles which perplex many a weary soul. — Gentleman's Mag-
azine.

-♦♦♦-

BACKGAMMOK AMONG THE AZTECS.

By EDWAKD B. TYLOE.

BY backgammon we usually mean one particular game played with
dice and thirty draughts, on a board with twelve points on each
side. But this is only one of a family of games, whose general defini-
tion is that they consist in moving pieces on a diagram, not at the
player's free choice, as in draught-playing, but conformably to the throws
of lots or dice. It can hardly be doubted that the set of games thus
combining chance and skill are all, whether ancient or modern, the
descendants of one original game. By a stretch of imagination, it
may be possible to fancy draughts or dice to have been fresh invented
more than once. But, when it comes to a game which combines the
two ideas, it seems to pass the bounds of ordinary probability to sup-
pose, for instance, that a Greek and an Arab and a Birmese were sepa-
rately seized by the same happy thought, and said, " Go to, let us cast
lots, and count them to play at draughts by." If indeed any reader
should think such a combination might have happened twice over, he

492 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

may be asked to look closely into the games presently to be described,
so as to satisfy himself that their agreement goes even further, as in
the peculiar principle on which the high and low throws are counted,
and, so far as one knows, in there generally being in some shape the
rule of hitting a blot, that is, taking an enemy's undefended man off
the point one's own man moves to. The exact primitive game whence
all known games of the class were derived can not now be pointed out,
and indeed is perhaps lost in prehistoric antiquity. So we may as well
keep to our own word, and call the whole set the backgammon famil}-.
It is in this sense that I use the word here, with the purpose of proving
that, before Hernando Cortes landed with his invading Spaniards at
Vera Cruz, one variety of backgammon had already found its way over
from Asia into Mexico, and had become a fashionable amusement at
the barbaric court of Montezuma. But, before following the game on
its hitherto unnoticed migration into the New "World, let us first glance
at its Old World history.

Clearly our English hachgammon and the more complicated French
trictrac are descended from the Roman game of the "twelve lines"
{duodecim, scriptd), which was played throughout the empire. This is
the game which Ovid says has lines as many as the gliding year has
months, and he means it where he gives the lover insidious counsel,
when his mistress casts the ivory numbers from her hand, let him give
himself bad throws and play them ill. Among the Christian antiquities
in Home is a marble slab, on which a backgammon-table is cut, with a
Greek cross in the middle, and a Greek inscription that Jesus Christ
gives victory and help to dicers if they write his name when they throw
the dice — Amen. Carelessly scratched as it is, by some stone-cutter
whose faith went beyond his trictrac, it shows that the board was like
ours even to the division in the middle, which makes the two groups of
six points on each side. From ancient Rome, too, we inherit the habit
of making the backgammon-board with a draught-board on the reverse
side, at any rate the commentators so interpret Martial's epigram on
the tabula lusoria :

Sie mihi Ms seno numeratur tessera puncto
Calculus hie gemino discolor hoste 2ierit.

Here, twice the die is counted to the point of size,

Here, 'twixt twin foes of other hue, the draughtsman dies.

The very mode of playing the men in classic backgammon may be
made out from a fifth-century Greek epigram, commemorating a re-
markable hit, in which the Emperor Zeno got his men so blocked that,
having the ill-luck to throw 3, 5, 6 (they used three dice, as indeed we
continued to do in the middle ages), the only moves open obliged him
to leave eight blots. This historic problem, and other matters of Greek
and Latin backgammon, are worked out by M. Becq de Fouqui^res, in
his " Jeux des Anciens," with a skill that w^ould have rejoiced the hearts

BACKGAMMON AMONG THE AZTECS. 493

of those eminent amateurs, the old Count de Trictrac and the venerable
Abbe du Cornet, to whose teaching history records that Miss Becky-
Sharp ascribed the proficiency at backgammon which made her society
so agreeable to Sir Pitt at Queen's Crawley.

It is not known so exactly what manner of backgammon the Greeks
played in earlier ages ; but there are various passages to prove that,
when they talk of dice-playing, they often mean not mere hazard, but
some game of the backgammon sort, where the throws of the dice are
turned to account by skillful moving of pieces. Thus Plato says that,
as in casting dice, we ought to arrange our affairs according to the
throws we get, as reason shall declare best ; and Plutarch, further mor-
alizing, remarks that Plato compares life to dicing (/cf/Sem), where one
must not only get good throws, but know how to use them skillfully
when one has got them. So with Plutarch's story of Parysatis, mother
of Artaxerxes. She was " awful at dice" [deivi) Kv(3eveiv), and, " play-
ing her game carefully," won from the king the eunuch Mesabates, who
had cut off the head and hand of Cyrus ; having got him, she had him
flayed alive and his skin stretched. This episode of old Persian history
is noteworthy in the history of the game, because Persian backgammon,
which they call naixl, is much like the European form of the game,
which, it has not been unreasonably guessed, may itself have come
from Persia. This nard is popular in the East, and orthodox Moslems
have seen in the fateful throws of the dice a recognition of the decrees
of Allah, that fall sometimes for a man and sometimes against him. It
is, said one, a nobler game than chess, for the backgammon -player ac-
knowledges predestination and the divine will, but the chess-player de-
nies them like a dissenter. Not to lose ourselves in speculations on the
Oriental origin of backgammon, at any rate it was from Rome that it
spread over Europe, carrying its Latin name of tahiilm with it in French
and English tables. This word has dropped out of our use since the
Elizabethan period, but an instance of it may be cited in a couple of
lines, conveying another little sermon on backgammon, which the Eng-
lish author no doubt borrowed from the Latin of Terence, even as he
had copied it from the Greek of Menander :

Man's life's a game of tables^ and he may
Mend his bad fortune by his wiser play.

There is an idea which readily presents itself as to how backgammon
came to be invented, namely, that the draughts were originally mere
counters^ such as little stones, shifted on a calculating board to reckon
up the successive throws, and that it was an afterthought to allow skill
in the choice of moves. This guess fits well enough with the classic
draught being described as a stone, tpr](pog, calx or calculus, while in
Germany, though now made of wood, it still keeps its old name of
stein. Also the playing board on which the stones were moved shares
the name of the calculating board, a/3af, abacus. But if the classical

494 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

varieties of backgammon in this way show traces of the game near its
original state, they seem in another respect to have passed out of their
early simplicity. They are all played with dice, and indeed the French
author lately mentioned seems right in guessing that the division of our
board into groups of six points each was made on purpose to suit the
throws of cubical dice like ours, numbered on all the sides, from 1 to 6.
As to the early history of dice, I have elsewhere endeavored to show
(" Primitive Culture," chapter iii.) that the origin of games of chance
may be fairly looked for in instruments of the nature of lots, at first
cast seriously by diviners for omens, and afterward brought down from
serious magic into mere sport. Now, the simplest of such instruments
is the lot which only falls two ways, like the shell, white on one side
and blackened on the other, which Greek children spun up into the air
to fall, "night or day," as they said ; or, like our half-pence, tossed for
" head or tail." Both in divination and in gambling, such two-faced
lots probably came earlier than the highly artificial numbered dice.
The kinds of backgammon now to be described seem in general to be-
long to the earlier stage of development, for it is with lots, not dice,
that they are played.

The traveler in Egypt or Palestine now and then comes on a lively
group sitting round a game, and in their eager shouts, if he knows
some Arabic, he may distinguish not only such words as " two " or
" four," but also " child," " dog," " Christian," " Moslem. On closer ex-
amination he finds that the game is called tab, and that it is a sort of
backgammon played on an oblong checker-board, or four rows of little
holes in the ground, where bits of stone on one side and bits of red
brick on tlie other do duty as draughts, being shifted from place to place
in the rows of squares or holes. Not dice, but lots, are cast to regulate
the moves ; these lots are generally four slips of palm-stick, with a
green outer side and a white cut side (called black and white), and
when they are thrown against a stick set up in the ground, the throw
counts according to how many white sides come up, thus :

Whites up : None

One

Two

Three

Four.

Count : 6

1

2

3

4

(go on)

(tab)

(stop)

(stop)

(go on)

Notice particularly this way of counting throws, for its principles
will be found again in lot backgammon elsewhere. There is evidently
a crude attempt to reckon probabilities, giving a higher value to the
less frequent throws of all four white and all four black, than to two or
three white, which come up oftener. Besides the high count, they have
the privilege of a second throw. This, if lot backgammon came first,
and was succeeded by dice backgammon, would naturally pass into our
rule of giving doubles another throw. The throw of one white, which
is called " child," or tab, i. 6., " game," has a special power, for only by
it may a " dog," that is, a stone or draught, be moved out of its original
place in the outer row, and set at liberty to circulate along the lines of

BACKGAMMON AMONG THE AZTECS. 495

squares or " houses," taking an enemy's dog if found alone in its bouse.
While a draught is still in its first inactive, useless condition, they call
it a " Nazarene," or Christian ; but, when the throw of tab gives it the
right to go forth conquering and to conquer, it becomes a " Moslem."
It is not needful to go further into the rather complicated rules of mov-
ing and taking. Those who are curious may find much about it in
Lane's " Modern Egyptians," and in the quaintly learned little book
" De Ludis Orientalibus," by Thomas Hyde, who was Bodleian librarian
in the reign of William and Mary. But one question suggests itself.
Seeing how the modern fellahs delight in tab, one naturally asks, Did
they inherit it from the ancient Egyptians ? From remote antiquity
the Egyptians played draughts on earth, and after death their righteous
souls still had the oblong checker-board, and the men like chess-pawns,
to amuse their glorified but perhaps rather tiresome life in the world
below^ But, as Dr. Birch points out, no Egyptian dice have been found
earlier than Roman times, nor any plain mention of backgammon.
Even if they played like their descendants in the Nile Valley with such
things as slips of palm, something about it should be found in the
hieroglyphic texts. But at present nothing appears, and there is no
reason to add backgammon to the long list of inventions whose earliest
traces are found in Egypt. Perhaps the nearest relative of tab is Chi-
nese backgammon, but this is played with dice.

Next, as to India. Here, since ancient times, cowry-shells have
been thrown as lots, their " head " and " tail " being according as the
shell falls with mouth or back upward. In Sanskrit literature there is
an old mention of a game called panchikd, which was played with five
cowries, and where it seems that the winning throws were when all the
mouths came up or down, as against the commoner throws when some
fell each way. That a game of the nature of backgammon was known
in India from high antiquity has been plainly made out by Professor
Weber. It was called aydnaya, or "luck and unluck" ; or at any rate
that was a term used as to the moving of the pieces, which traveled
right and left through the squares, and took an undefended man from
his place to begin his course anew. So, as a Sanskrit riddle has it :
" In a house where there were many, there is left but one, and where
there was none and many come, at last there is none. Thus Kala and
Kali, casting day and night for their pair of dice, play with human
beings for pieces on the board of the world." Putting these particu-
lars together, it is clearl}^ possible to trace from ancient times the game
of pachisi, played in modern India, into which game it will now be
necessary for our argument to go more exactly ; in fact, to qualify our-
selves to sit down and play a game. English backgammon-players will
hardly take five minutes to learn it.

Suppose four players to be seated, each at the end of one arm of
the diagram or board, of which a figure is here given. Each player
will have four little wooden cones as his pieces or draughts, all of one

496

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

color, to distinguish them. If only two play, each will manoeuvre two
sets of men. Each player's men start one by one down the middle row of

his own rectangle, beginning
with the square next the cen-
tral space, and thence they pro-
ceed all round the outside rows
of the board, traveling from right
to left (contrary to the sun) till
they get back to their own cen-
tral row, and up it home to
where they started from, he who
first gets all his men home win-
ning the game. A solitary man is
taken up and sent back to begin
again, by one of his adversary's
men lighting upon his square,
except in the case of the twelve
privileged squares, which are marked with a cross, in which case the
overtaking piece can not move. The moving is determined by throwing
a number of cowries, -which count according to how many fall mouth
up ; thus, if six cowries are used :

X

X

X

X

X

X

X

X

-

X

J

X

1

X

X

Ix

Mouths up :

None

One

Two

Three

Four

Pive Six.

Count :

6

10

2

3

4

25 12

(go on)

(das)

(stop)

(stop)

(stop)

(pachisi) (go on)

According to the rules kindly sent me from Dr. Rajendralala Mitra, of
Calcutta, the throws of one-up or five-up {das or pachisi) alone can
start a man on his first square, or get him oiF if stuck on his last square.
These throws, as well as none-up and six-up, give a new throw. Thus
the best beginnings are one-up followed by two-up, or five-up followed
by four-up, either of which enters a man and carries him on in safety
into a " fort.'' Seven cowries can also be used, but the primitive game
was probably more like the ancient game with five cowries just men-
tioned, for the name pachisi means " five-and-twenty," and was no
doubt taken from the throw when five shells come up. The principles
of counting the throws and entering the men are plainly like those in
the Arab game of tab, and there are Indian forms with only four cow-
ries which come still closer.

Pachisi is a favorite game in India, and an eager player will carry
rolled round in his turban the cloth which serves as a board, so as to be
ready for a game at any moment. These cloths, when embroidered
with the diagram in colored silk, are quite artistic objects, and one does
not often see prettier toys than a set of men in Mr. Franks's collection,
little cones (or rather sugar-loaves) of rock crystal, with the colors
they are to bear in the game shown by mounting in the top a ruby for
red, an emerald for green, etc. There are even stories of yet more

BACKGAMMON AMONG THE AZTECS. 497

sumptuous games, where the board was a courtyard laid out in marble
pavement, on which living draught-men clothed in green, red, yellow,
and black, walked the circuit and hustled one another off the squares.
Our Anglo-Indians sometimes catch the enthusiasm ; and there is an
often-told tale of that official personage who, when he paid his native
servants their wages, would sit down with them to a match at pachisi,
and sometimes win his money back. In London toy-shops they sell
board and pieces for what they profess to be the game, but these really
belong to the modified form of it known in India as chUpur, in which,
instead of cowries, stick-dice numbered on the four long sides are
thrown, these Indian dice being in England replaced by our common
cubical ones. This shows the change from lots to dice in games of the
backgammon sort, and it is curious to notice how clearly the new rules
for counting by the dice are modeled on the old rules for throws of
cowries. Having now sufficiently mastered the peculiarities of pachisi,
let us pass from Asia to America, and compare them with the details
of the Mexican game oi patolli.

When the Spanish invaders of Mexico gazed half in admiration and
half in contempt on the barbaric arts and fashions of Aztec life, they
particularly noticed a game, at which the natives played so eagerly
that, when they lost all they had, they would even stake their own
bodies, and gamble themselves into slavery, just as Tacitus says the
old Germans used to do. The earliest particulars of the Mexican game
come from Lopez de Gomara, whose " Istoria de las Indias " was
printed in 1552, so that it must have been written while the memory
of the conquest in 1521 was still fresh. He says : " Sometimes Monte-
zuma looked on as they played at patoliztli^ which is much like the
game of tables, and is played with beans marked with lines like one-
faced dice, which they call patolli. These they take between both
hands, and throw them on a mat or on the ground, where there are
certain lines like a checker-board, on which they mark with stones the
point which came up, taking ofi" or putting on a little stone." This
may be supplemented from three other old Spanish writers — Torque-
mada, Sahagun, and Duran. The figure on the mat is spoken of as " a
painted cross full of squares like checkers," or as an " aspa," which
word means a + , a Greek cross, the sails of a windmill, etc., descrip-
tions which come as close as may be to the pachisi-board. Also, it
appears that the stones moved on the board to mark the numbers
thrown by the beans were of different colors, one account mentioning
twelve stones, six red and six blue, between the two players.

According as the game was played, three to five beans were thrown
as lots or dice, and sometimes these beans were marked on one side
with a hole, and left plain on the other, while sometimes they seem to
have had dots or lines indicating various numbers. If both ways were
really used, then the game was known in both its stages, that of two-
faced lots and that of numbered dice, just as in India it is played as

498 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

pacliisi with cowries, and as chftpur with stick-dice. As to the way of
scoring the throws, only one of the old writers says anything. This is
Diego Duran, an extract from whose MS. history I have obtained by
the courtesy of Mr. Oak, of the Bancroft Library at San Francisco. He
says, as to the holes in the beans which showed how many squares were
to be gained, that they were "if one, one, and if two, two, and if three,
three, but marking five they were ten, and if ten, twenty." Thus in
Mexico we just catch sight of the peculiar trick of scoring, everywhere
so characteristic of the game, namely, the advantage given to the ex-
treme throws, which in our own backgammon takes the form of allow-
ing doubles to count twice over. Unluckily, the thought had never
crossed the minds of these early Spanish historians of the New World
that their descriptions of the Aztec game would ever become evidence of
use in tracing the lines along which civilization spread over the earth.
Had they seen this they would have left us a perfect set of rules, not
such careless mentions of a game which plainly they " did not under-
stand." Still they saw enough of Montezuma's patolli to observe that
it was in principle like their own game of tables, w^hile clearly they had
never heard of the Indian pachisi, or they would have seen how much
closer its resemblance came to that. This touches a point in the history
of the game. How did the Mexicans get it ? The idea may have
already occurred to some readers of this essay. Could not perhaps some
stray Portuguese or Spaniard, having lately picked up the game of pa-
chisi in some seaport of the East Indies, have taken his next voyage to
the West Indies, and naturalized his newly-learned game on the main-
land of America ? But there is no room for a suggestion of this sort
when it is remembered that patolli was an established diversion in
Mexico at the time of the Spanish entry, which followed within three
years of the first landing of Grijalva in the gulf of Mexico, and indeed
within five-and-twenty years of Colon's first sight of Hispaniola. What
seems most likely is, that the game came direct from Asia to America,
reaching Mexico from the Pacific coast.

That the remarkable civilization of Mexico as the Spaniards found it
was not entirely of native American growth, but had taken up ideas
from Asia, is no new opinion. Alexander von Humboldt argued years
ago that the Mexicans did and believed things which were at once so
fanciful and so like the fancies of Asiatics that there must have been
communication. Would two nations, he asks in eflfect, have taken in-
dependently to forming calendars of days and* years by repeating and
combining cycles of animals such as tiger, dog, ape, hare ; would they
have developed independently similar astrological fancies about these
signs governing the periods they began, and being influential each over
a particular limb or organ of men's bodies, would they, again, have
evolved separately out of their consciousness the myth of the world and
its inhabitants having at the end of several successive periods been de-
stroyed by elemental catastrophes ? In spite of Humboldt we often

BACKGAMMON AMONG THE AZTECS. 499

hear Mexican culture talked of as self-produced, with its bronze and
gold work, its elaborate architecture and sculpture, its monastic and
priestly institutions, its complicated religious rites and formulas. It
was my fortune years ago to travel in Mexico and explore its wonderful
ruins, and ever since I have held to the view that the higher art and
life of the whole Central American district is most rationally accounted
for by a carrying across of culture from Asia. Thus it is now a peculiar
pleasure to me to supplement Humboldt's group of arguments with a new
one which goes on all-fours with them. It may very well have been the
same agency which transported to Mexico the art of bronze-making, the
computation of time by periods of dogs and apes, the casting of nativi-
ties, and the playing of backgammon. What that agency was one can
as 3'et do no more than guess, but too much stress must not be laid on
it in speculating on the mass migrations of the American races. Such
matters as arts or games are easily carried from country to country ;
nor can we treat as inaccessible to Asiatic influences the Pacific coast
of North America, where disabled junks brought across by the ocean
current are from time to time drifted ashore, now and then with their
crews alive. The Asiatic communication to be traced in the culture of
the Aztec nation may not have been very ancient or extensive ; all we
can argue is, that communication of some sort there was.

Now one thing leads to another, especially in ethnology. Curiously
enough, by following up the traces of this trivial little game, we get an
unexpected glimpse into the history of the ruder North American tribes.
Having learned about patolli as played in old Mexico, let us take up
the account of a Jesuit missionary. Father Joseph Ochs, who was in
Spanish America in 1754-'68, and who is here writing about the tribes
of Sonora and Chihuahua : " Instead of our cards they have slips of
reed or bits of wood a thumb wide and near a span long, on which, as
on a tally, different strokes are cut and stained black. These they hold
fast in the hand, lift them up as high as they can, and let them drop on
the ground. Whichever then has most strokes or eyes for him wins
the stake. This game is as bad as the notorious hazard. They call it
patole. As it is forbidden on pain of blows, they choose for it a place
in the bush ; but the clatter of these bits of wood has discovered me
many a hidden gamester. To play more safely, they would spread a
cloak or carpet so as not to be betrayed by the noise." Here, then, is
found* toward a thousand miles northwest of the city of Mexico, a game
which may be described as patolli without the counters, and which still
bears the Aztec name, in a district whose language is not Aztec, so that
the proof of its having traveled from Mexico seems complete. The
people, being less intellectual than the old Mexicans, have droj^ped the
skillful part of the game and are content with the mere dicing. Nor,
by the way, is this the only place where backgamm.on has so come down,
for in Egypt they will lay aside the board and throw the t^b-sticks for
fun, those who throw four and six being proclaimed Sultan and Vizier,

500 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

while the luckless thrower of two gets for his reward two cuts with the
palm-stick on the soles of his feet.

Yet another fifteen hundred miles or more up into the continent the
game is still to be traced. Among the hunting tribes known under the
common name of the North American Indians, there is a favorite sport
described by a score of writers under the name of " game of the bowl,"
or "game of plum-stones." The lots used are a number of plum-stones
burned on one side to blacken them, or any similar double-convex pieces
of wood, horn, etc. They are either thrown by hand or shaken in a
bowl or dish, whence they can be neatly jerked up and let fall on the
blanket spread to play on. The counting depends upon how many
come up of either color, white or black, as is seen in the .precise rules
given by Mr. Morgan in his " League of the Iroquois." Where six
" peach-stones " were thrown, if all six came up, white or black, they
counted five, and five up, white or black, counted one, these high throws
also giving the player a new turn, but all lower throws counted nothing
and passed the lead. It is so curious to find the principle of lot-scoring,
which we have tracked all across from Egypt, cropping up so perfectly
among the Iroquois, that at the risk of being tedious it is worth while
to give in full the mode of counting in the game as played with eight
"deer-buttons." The following top line shows how many black or
white sides up, with their count below :

Eight Seven Six Five Four Tliree Two One None

20 42 000 24 20

go on stop go on

In these games there is no board to play on. The Iroquois use
beans as counters, the game being won by one player getting all the
beans, but perhaps the white men taught them how to do this. So
with the game which will occur to English readers who remember it in
" Hiawatha," where it is described at full length in prose-poetry as
" the game of bowl and counters, pugasaing with thirteen pieces."
This game is real enough ; indeed, the description of it is taken from
Schoolcraft's " Indian Tribes." But there seem to be no early men-
tions of this Algonquin game with its ducks and war-clubs and elabo-
rate counting, nor of the Dakota game with tortoises and war-eagle son
the plum-stones. Thus both may have been lately devised by Indians
under European teaching, as improvements on the original pugasaing
or "play," which was the simple game wnth black- and white-sided
plum-stones, or the like. This, no doubt, is old, for it is described by
the Jesuit missionaries in 1636 under the name of jeu de plat, as a
regular sport among the Hurons ; and as they clearly did not learn the
game from Europe, we are left to argue that it reached them from
Asia, very likely through Mexico.

It remains to glance at what may be learned as to the history of the
North American Indians from the fact of their gambling with the bowl

BACKGAMMON AMONG THE AZTECS. 501

and plum-stones. It is an interesting question whether " the poor In-
dian, whose untutored mind " has now and then been too easily credited
with the invention of all the arts and beliefs he did not get from the
white men, may not really before this have largely taken up in his cul-
ture ideas of Old-World growth. It has long been noticed that, looking
at the native tribes of what is now the United States and the Dominion
of Canada, the tribes on the east side had taken to making pottery and
cultivating maize, while the tribes on the west had not, which seems as
thoutrh there had been a flow or drift of civilization from the Central
American district up the eastern half of the continent, which of itself
ought to be enough to prevent any ethnologists from looking at the so-
called red-man of New England or the Lakes as the creator of his whole
industrial and social life. Nor is it an unknown thing that the myth
and religion of the North American tribes contain many fancies well
known to Asia, which the men of the prairies were hardly likely to have
hit upon independently, but which they certainly did not learn from the
white men, who did not even know them. If we are bound, as I think
we are, to open a theoretical road for even a well-marked game to migrate
by from Asia into America, then there are plenty of other matters wait-
ing for passage along the route. By such conveyance of ideas it may be
easiest to explain why the so-called Indians of North America shared
with the real Indians of India the quaint belief that the world is a
monstrous tortoise floating on the waters, or why the Sioux Indians
share with the Tartars the idea that it is sinful to chop or poke with a
sharp instrument the burning logs on the fire. But these considerations
lead too far into the deepest-lying problems of the connection and
intercourse of nations to be here pursued further. It is remarkable, too,
how vast a geographical range the argument on the migrations of a
game may cover. The American farmer now whiles away the winter
evening in his farmhouse parlor with a hit at backgammon, on the
spot where, not long since, the Iroquois played peach-stones in his bark
hut. Neither would have recognized the other's sport as akin to his
own, though when we trace them through the intermediate stages they
are seen to be both birds of one nest. It is by strangely different routes
that they have at last come together from their Asiatic home — one per-
haps eastward through Asia, across the Pacific, into Mexico, and north-
ward to the St. Lawrence ; the other, no doubt, westward down to the
Mediterranean, up northward to England, over the Atlantic, and so out
into the American praii'ie.' — 3Iacmilla)t's Marjazine.

' For special details, copies of original documents, etc., see a paper by the author
" On the Game of Patolli in Ancient Mexico, and its probably Asiatic Origin," read be-
fore the Anthropological Institute on April 9, 1S78.

502 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MITES, TICKS, AND OTHEE ACAKL

By E. K. LELAND,

THE acari constitute a large order of minute animals, including
mites, ticks, itch insects, etc, with which, in some of their forms,
every one is more or less familiar, though, owing to their small size
and obscure ways of living, but little is known of their structure and
habits. They are often spoken of as insects, but are by scientific
classification separated from the true insects, the most marked dis-
tinction being the possession of eight legs instead of six. Usually
they are furnished with a suctorial apparatus. They are parasitic on
both the animal and vegetable kingdoms. No class of animals is free
from them. They prey upon each other ; insects are infested with
and support them at the cost of their lives ; they attach themselves
to fish and cold-blooded reptiles, and colonize on the whole range of
birds and mammals. Some live under the skin, burrowing in the
muscles ; others dig corridors beneath the ejndermis ; while others,
again, wander only on the surface. They are found in the lungs, air-
passages, and intestinal canals of vertebrates. They are very prolific,
and, though small, awkward, and slow-moving, they are transferred
in a surprising way, often suddenly appearing about houses in enor-
mous numbers, infesting plants and domesticated animals, or swarming
on articles of food. Sometimes, especially in the tropics, they inflict
considerable suffering ; but it is probable that, on the whole, they are
beneficial to man. A few directly injure him, and none directly bene-
fit him, but indirectly they do him service by preying, as will be seen,
on insect-pests and by acting as scavengers. The number of species
in this family is so great as to forbid any detailed description, or even
the merest mention of all of them. For the most part they are seldom
seen except by those who make them a study. But a brief account of
what is known about those of them that come into relations with man
closely enough to afiect his comfort and welfare, may be of interest
and value.

The species thus referred to are found in the following classes : 1.
Spinning and harvest mites, red spiders, etc. {Tromhidnnm) ; 2. In-
sect mite-parasites, sometimes called ticks ( Gamasidce) ; 3. True
ticks (Ixodidas) ; 4. Cheese and sugar mites, itch mites, etc. {Acari-
dce) — the portion of the family commonly included under the name
acari.

The spinning mites, like their relatives the spiders, can spin
webs. They are of small size and semi-transparent. The most com-
mon is the red mite (Fig. 1), Tetranychus telarius, so well known
to all who have the care of house plants. It is one twentieth of an
inch long, yellowish, with two red spots on the sides, though its color

MITES, TICKS, AND OTHER ACARI.

503

varies with tlie plant on which it is found, and in different individuals
on the same plant ; a rusty color shows maturity. This mite, like
most of the genus, spins a web on the back of the leaves so delicate
that a sino;le strand can not be seen even with the aid of a common
magnifier. "When the web-work is done, however, it is plainly visible,

Fig. 2.— Trombidium parasiticum.

Fio. 1.— Tetbantchus telakius — perfect
insect, male.

Fig. 3.— Trombidium sebiceum.

and under it the mites congregate iu numbers, and feed and multiply
very fast. The leaves soon look sickly, are marbled with gray and
yellow above, the underside being white and shiny, with recurved
edges. A microscope will show hundreds of mites of all ages, together
with unhatched eggs pasted to the web ; they are draining the leaf-
vessels of their sap, and choking the breathing-pores with excrement.
The remedies used to get rid of them are various, but sulphur seems
the most potent of them all. It is recommended to lay flowers of sul,-
phur on the heating-pipes in the hot-house, or it may be mixed with
soapsiids, and applied to the leaves. Plain soap and water is effectual
if made to reach the insect, but a bent syringe or some other means
must be employed to reach the underside of the leaves, otherwise the
mites will remain in comfort and safety through a hard drenching.
Luckily for the florist, they are preyed upon by other mites and in-
sects— the grub or larvae devouring whole colonies of them very quick-
ly. The cucumber, cacti, vine, etc., as well as the shrubs and herbage
of wood and field, support various species of this genus ; they are all
of similar habits while confined to vegetation, and to be got rid of by
similar methods. But some of them transfer themselves to the skin
with seeming ease, and when thus lodged cause great discomfort, pro-
ducing itching and redness, and sometimes erujitions similar to those
of the itch. Two species known in the Mississippi Valley as jiggers
are very annoying to those who have to expose themselves where they

504 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

abound. Prof. Riley names and describes them as follows : T. Ame-
ricanus, a mite barely visible to the naked eye, moves readily, and is
found more frequently upon children than upon adults. It lives most-
ly upon the scalp and. under the armpits, but is frequently found on
other parts of the body. It does not bury itself in the flesh, but works
its head under the skin, causing irritation, followed by a red pimple.
T. irritcms, the best known and most troublesome of the two, causes
intense irritation and swelling on all parts of the body, but more es-
pecially upon the legs and around the ankles. By the aid of its strong
jaws, the lower pair of which are elbowed, it buries itself completely
in the flesh, resulting in a red swelling, with a pustule containing
watery matter. If the mite be not removed the irritation lasts several
days, the pustule refilling as often as it is broken. It is seldom noticed
being so small, and the uninitiated are often alarmed at the symptoms.
Saleratus water or salt water will allay the irritation, but sulphur
ointment effects a speedy cure.

Another red mite, belonging to a difierent genus, makes itself use-
ful by preying on insects. One species, Tromhidium parasiticum
(Fig. 2), is found on the house-fly, which in some seasons is so infested
that hardly one can be caught that is not loaded with mites clinging
to the base of its wings. This or closely related species are found on
spiders and mosquitoes, which they help to kill off". One species Dr.
Packard found doing good work in eating the plant-lice ofi" his rose-
bushes ; another attack the Rocky Mountain locust, the grasshopper
scourge of the West ; they attach themselves to the body under the
wings, and suck it to a dry shell; while still another species, T. seri-
ceum (Fig. 3), creep in great numbers into the holes where the locusts'
eggs are and. eat them.

The Gamasidce are for the most part parasitic on insects, as the
beetle, bumblebee, wasp, etc., though the kinds here noticed are
found on warm-blooded animals. They are sometimes called ticks,
and are closely allied to that family. The mite shown in Fig. 4,
Dermanyssus aviicm, infests domestic poultry, canaries, and other
cage-birds, living in henneries and aviaries, and ready, like many of
its congeners, to migrate to persons the first opportunity. They are
small, w^hite, and quite agile. A case is related in which these mites
settled upon the skin of a woman otherwise healthy. She was con-
stantly infested with little, louse-like animals, w^hich were supposed
to be bred on her body, as the greatest cleanliness failed to extir-
pate them. It was at last found that she w^ent several times a day
into a cellar over which the hen-roost was located. As often as she
passed the fowls flew up to their roosts, and by this means sprinkled
the woman with mites. The removal of the hen-roosts cured her.
Fowls, when allowed to roost in stables, sometimes convey these mites
to horses, torturing the poor brutes nearly to death, the OAvner being
unable to decide what malady afflicts them. The mite is easiest ob-

MITES,

TICKS, AND

OTHER ACARI.

505

served in the cages of singing birds. That they feed upon the bird is
shown by their digestive organs being full of blood. They harbor in
the recesses of the cage and the perches, particularly those made of
hollow caue, and sally out at night to settle on the sleeping bird.

Fig. 4.— Dermantssus avium.

Fig. 5.— Tybogltphus siro.

Scrupulous cleanliness should be exercised to prevent and remove
them. Several members of this family are parasitic on cats. One
species is found on dead bodies. A case has been cited where one
was observed on the brain of a dead soldier, which had just been
opened. Although the observer thought that the mite had been domi-
ciled there, and upon the strength of this case the statement is often
made that they are sometimes found in the brain, it is probable that
the mite was in some way conveyed to the brain after it had been
opened.

The Ixodes^ or true ticks, are known by the tough, leathery skin
of their abdomen and legs, their fastening on warm-blooded animals,
and sucking their blood, for which they have a special mouth-piece.
The body of the female is capable of great distention as she gorges.
Their habit is lierbivorous at first, for it is from the herbage that they
find their way to the creatui'es on which they fix. They mount to the
summit of blades of grass, or tips of leaves, and, holding on by their
forelegs only, stretch the other three pairs out so as to fasten on any
animal that comes in their way. Once settled, they plunge their pro-
boscides into the skin, and suck the blood until their flat bodies be-
come of a globular form, varying from the size of a number-eight shot
to that of a bean. Tlie process of filling is slow, sometimes taking
days. Little irritation is felt, but the proboscis is liable to be broken
off and remain in the wound, when serious sores are formed. Care
should be used in taking them off; a little tobacco-juice will generally
make them let go. Dogs after running in the woods often bring home
quantities of them, and they may come to be permanently located in
the dog-kennels. The common cattle-tick of the West is very annov-
ing to horned cattle. Various troublesome species abound in the

VOL. XIT. — 33

5o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tropics, and these exotic tick-mites are not infrequently imported on
plants, and in the moss and sphagnum which horticulturists use in
packing their wares. The habits of this group are somewhat anoma-
lous ; at first they are unquestionably herbivorous, but they greedily
avail themselves of every opportunity of sucking blood instead of sap.
No special adaptation is needed for this, as the sucking-apparatus is
suited to both the liquid blood and the juice of plants, and is similar
to that of all suctorial insects, which some use on plants, some on ani-
mals, and some on both. Of the immense swarms of ticks, gnats, mos-
quitoes, bed-bugs, etc., the majority pr^ably never taste animal food
at all, although so greedy for it when it comes in their way.

The sub-family, Acaridce, is divided into two sections : the cheese-
mites and their allies, and the itch-mites with their relatives. The
first section produces a number of vegetable-feeders ; several species
are found on the scales of some species of Liliacece, principally hya-
cinths, and on dahlia-roots, cyclamen, potatoes, mushrooms, etc. ; these
occasionally cause itching and irritation to those handling them. The
smallest species of this group, T'yroglyx>hus entoinophagus, is a pest
too well known to entomologists, upon whose collections it preys. It
lives chiefly in the inside of the insects which it attacks, gnawing the
soft parts of their bodies, and destroying the ligaments which liold
the articulations together, allowing them to fall apart.

Edible mushrooms, especially the cultivated sorts, are often at-
tacked by a moist black rot, which, until lately, has been regarded as
spontaneous. But it has been shown that it is caused, or at least
aided, by a species of mite remarkable for fecundity. The activity of
their agency in this decomposition is shown by the fact that mushrooms
on which they have been placed become, in forty-eight hours, a black,
putrescent mass, on which myriads of these creatures swarm ; while
other mushrooms subjected to the same conditions, except the inocu-
lation, dry up, and take from eight days to a fortnight to decompose.
The presence of mites in great numbers on some of the common arti-
cles of food is well known. These are chiefly the cheese-mites, which
are characterized by a soft, smooth, fleshy, whitish body, with gener-
ally a single claw, surrounded by a vesicle or fine sucker, like a sieve.
T. siro (Fig. 5) is the principal mite which commits ravages upon
cheese, living upon all kinds when a little decayed, and especially the
harder parts. They hibernate during winter, crowded in heaps in
chinks and hollows in the cheese ; but with warm weather their ac-
tivity begins, and they gnaw away, reducing the cheese to powder.
This powder is composed of excrement in little grayish balls, eggs,
egg-shells, larvae, cast skins, perfect mites, fragments of cheese, and
numerous spores of microscopic fungi. A mite-tainted cheese is not
objected to by epicures, and the creatures ai-e sometimes introduced
to give a premature ripeness ; but, if left to work unchecked, they
will spoil a cheese very soon.

MITES, TICKS, AND OTHER ACARI. 507

Linnseus described a mite under the name oiAcarus di/senteH(e, to
the presence of which was ascribed a persistent dysentery that attacked
one of his pupils, and some later authors have thought it may have
been the cheese-mite, or some of its allies ; but this is improbable.
Cheese-mites are constantly eaten in great quantities, and, so far as
can be judged, with perfect impunity; if they did cause mischief,
numerous cases would have been noted and reported, whereas there
are none recorded. A mite is also found in flour, sometimes in abun-
dance ; Hassell, however, says it is never present unless the flour is
damaged. Assuming it to be a separate and distinctive species, it
was described by Linnaeus and named A. farince, and has been so
figured and spoken of by naturalists down to the present time. But
Mr. Andrew Murray, whose excellent hand-book on " Economic Ento-
mology " is freely used in this article, asserts that the flour-mite and
the milk-mite are not distinct species, but are identical with the
cheese-mite. Not, he explains, that every species found on cheese or
flour is this species — for both are doubtless infested with others — but
that the old authors have made two or three species out of one. The
cheese-mite has been met Avith in very old linseed-meal, and has been
found on wounds that had been dressed with poultices made of lin-
seed-meal. Of course, its presence under such circumstances must be
mischievous. Another species which lives on cheese, T. longlor (Fig.
6), is distinguished from the above by its more rapid movements,
larger size, and longer and rounder body. Its habits and diet are
much the same, though they are not found, together.

It is the species most commonly met with in stores of cantharides,
which are very subject to attacks of mites. This species, Mr. Murray
says, gave rise about 1837 to a good deal of talk among scientific
people, as having been supposed to be produced by electricity. There
was at that time in the semi-scientific world a vague idea in favor of
electricity being the source of many of the phenomena of life. The
limits and extent of its power were, of course, even less known than
at present, and all sorts of wild experiments were tried. One gentle-
man set up lines of electrical wires over portions of his estate, with a
view of ascertaining whether the plants would not thrive better under
what he supposed would be an increased flow of electricity. Others
made similar experiments in diflerent directions. One gentleman, Mr.
Cross, tried to produce organic beings by the aid of electrical appa-
i-atus. His process was to operate on volcanic stone kept moist by a
solution of silicate of potash and muriatic acid, constantly siabjected
to electricity. After carrying this on for some time, he was rewarded
by finding some of these mites wandering about his apparatus, and
arrived at the conclusion that they had been produced by his electrical
batteries. The species, therefore, enjoyed an ephemeral fame as a
human creation. It was sent to M. Turpin, in Paris ; having but a
single dead specimen to work from, he believed it to be a new species.

5o8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

but by no means endorsed the idea that it was created by Mr. Cross
or his electrical apparatus. It was not only a highly organized ani-
mal, and nearly allied to a well-known species, but it proved to be a
female, containing eggs, which, as he dryly remarked, seemed an un-
necessary comjilication in a new creation.

Fig. 6. — Ttrogltphus longioe.

Fig. 7.— ScGAR-MiTE {Tyioglyphus sacchari).

The sugar-mite, T. sacchari (Fig. 7), is most commonly found in
brown sugars. It is large enough to be seen with the naked eye, and
sometimes appears as white specks in the sugar. It may be detected
by dissolving two or three spoonfuls of sugar in warm water, and al-
lowing the solution to stand for an hour or so ; at the end of the time
the aeari will be found floating on the surface, adhering to the sides
of the glass, and lying mixed with the grit and. dirt that always accu-
mulate at the bottom. In ten grains of sugar as many as 500 mites
have been found, which is at the rate of 350,000 to the pound. Those
who are engaged in handling raw sugars are subject to an eruption
known as " grocers' itch," which is doubtless to be traced to the pres-
ence of these mites. They are almost invariably present in unrefined
sugars, and. may be seen in all stages of growth and in every condi-
tion, alive and dead, entire or broken in fragments. Refined sugars
are free from them ; this is in part due, perhaps, to the crystals being
so hard as to resist their jaws, but principally to the absence of albu-
men, for without nitrogenous matter tliey can not live. The sugar-
mite is also found on the surface of jellies and preserves that have
begun to dry, and on the sugar of dried fruit, such as figs, prunes,
cherries, etc. They sometimes accumulate in the mouth of wooden
taps used for wine and beer. In dismissing this part of the subject,
which refers to mites infesting food, it seems proper to say that the

MITES, TICKS, AND OTHER ACARI.

509

common assertion that living forms are a matter of course in every-
tliincj that we eat and drink is without warrant. While it is true that
water and one or two other articles usually contain microscopic or-
ganisms, the idea commonly conveyed by such statements is erroneous.
These degraded and disgusting forms are not proper food-stuiF; nor is
their consumption unavoidable. Pure ai'ticles, in an undamaged con-
dition, do not contain them ; and their presence in numbers in any
article of food is proof that it is unfit for human use, and should be
rejected.

There are several species, placed by later authors in the same
genus with the sugar-mites, whose normal habitat seems to be on food,
insect collections, and in the dust and mold of cellars and damp
places, but which, when transferred to animal bodies, become para-
sitic, causing curious and painful disorders. Signor Moriggia figures
a singular horny excrescence which grew from the hand of a lady.
It was nearly eight inches long, tapering upward from a wide base,
and curved toward the wrist. Its
cavities were swarming with a spe-
cies of acari. Another species was
found by Heriug in the hind feet of
a horse, that, although young and
in other respects sound, had to be
killed. The hoofs were quite dis-
organized, the frog and sole con-
sisting of a soft, fibrous mass, se-
creting an offensive liquid ; in the
end, the sore spx-ead to the flexors
and muscles of the fetlock. A
negro inmate of the Seaman's
Hospital, Loudon, suffered from
large and peculiar sores on the
soles of the feet. Examination
by Prof. Busk revealed the pres-
ence of a mite, which was doubt-
less the cause of the trouble. The
negro attributed the disease to

wearing a pair of shoes which were lent for a few days to another
negro who was similarly afflicted. The latter came from Sierra Leone,
and inquiry proved the existence of a pustular disease, native to that
place, called craw-craw, a species of itch very troublesome to cure.

The genus Cheyletus is a very remarkable type. It is unquestion-
ably carnivorous, its palpi being adapted for holding its prey. They
are not gregarious in their habits; but, like all animals that live by
rapine, are solitary. When placed in company with the cheese-mites,
they seize them between their palpi, and, plunging their beaks into
the body, suck up the juices. The C. eruditus (Fig. 8) appears also

Fig. 8.— Chetxetus erdditcs.

510

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to have poisoning powers similar to those of the spider. They seize
their victim by the leg or any other part, who, after the lapse of
fifteen or twenty seconds, becomes paralyzed, makes no resistance to
the devourer, and remains passive till nothing is left but an empty
and shrunken shell. The poison has no effect on its own species : they
frequently feed on each other; but in that case the prey struggles so
long as any fluid seems to be left in the body. It is found in the dust
of hay, old grain, meal, and flour, on collections, and also on books,
from which latter it derives its name ; but, in the opinion of Mr. Mur-
ray, it is so found because other gregarious acari congregate there,
and " we should no more think that it was there for the purpose of
feeding on those stuff's in which it is found than we should admit that
a cat eats hay because it is found in a rat-infested hay-stack,"

The occurrence of the phenomena of parthenogenesis among aca-
rids has been shown by this species. Mr. Beck succeeded in rearing
three successive generations from a female without any intervention
of the male. The female is very careful of her eggs : she lays them in
a heap, and rests brooding over them, guarding them from attack.

The itch-mites, Sarcoptes, infest the larger mammals. The com-
monest species, S. scabiei, which preys on man, when seen with the
naked eye, looks like a. white, shining globe, or a little bladder of

Fig. 9.

Sarcoptes scabizi— Male.

Sarcoptes scabiei— Female.

water, -^ of an inch long and yi-g- of an inch wide. The microscope
brings to view (Fig. 9) a round, flat body, with a head not unlike that
of a tortoise, provided with powerful jaws and nipj^ers, tlie structure
of which is well adapted to mining the skin. The body is set with

MITES, TICKS, AND OTHER A CAR I

511

strong, short legs, terminating in long spines (Figs. 10 and 11). The
feet and nippers are provided with suckers. They have no eyes ; but,
with their habits of life, the absence of these organs causes them no
inconvenience. The impregnated female digs a long burrow in the
skin, depositing her eggs as she moves. If one of the early vesicles
of the itch is examined, a small spot may be seen upon some point of
the surface; this is the opening made by the mite to begin its tunnel;
leading from this, a white, fluted line may be traced, which is the
cuniculus or burrow of the acarus, and the fluted or dotted appearance
is due to the eggs, the white dots showing where they lie (Fig. 12).

Fig. 10.— Two of the Posterior Legs of
the Male Sarcoptes scabiei.

Fig. 11.— Two of the Posterior Legs of
the Female Sarcoptes scabiei.

The burrow varies in length, sometimes reaching half an inch, and at
its end, imder a slight elevation, lies the mite. The cut shows a bur-
row with a number of empty shells scattered along the line, with one
unhatched egg close to the mite. Close inspection will reveal a small,
dark point at the end of the burrow; and, if the skin be raised there
with the point of a needle, the creature can be brought to view and
easily extracted. The itch-mite is never found in a vesicle or pustule ;
indeed, there is no connection between the later vesicles and the bur-
row ; they are evidently caused by the proximity of the mite. The
larvae and young females hide themselves in broken surfaces, or burrow
a short distance into the skin ; the male retreats under any protecting
edge. The advance of civilization, with its increased use of soap and
water, has done much toward exterminating this pest ; the " Jackson
itch" and "seven-year itch" are much less heard of than formerly;
but wherever, as in army life, men are crowded togetlier, and per-
sonal cleanliness is neglected, it reappears in a most flourishing con-
dition. The disease must, of course, be conveyed by transference
of the mite from those who are infected to those who are sound ;

512

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

z^. -'^\3

but the mode of transmission has been a puzzle, it being observccl
that among doctors and hospital attendants infection was compara-
tively rare. This is explained by the nocturnal habits of the mite —
or, if not truly nocturnal, its activity is promoted by a certain degree

of warmth, so that it lies dormant
during the day, when the body is
cool, to sally forth in searcli of
new fields when stimulated by
the genial warmth of the bed.
This explains also why the itch-
ing is most violent at night. The
fMfj mode of getting rid of the para-
site IS obvious ; we have only to
kill it; and, fortunately, the
means is cheap, easily applied,
and perfectly eflectual : sulpliur,
which seems to be a deadly bane,
to all insects, in whatever shape
it can be given. It is only ne-
cessary to expose the insect to its
influence, and it surely dies.

One curious point regarding
these mites is, how they produce
the physiological effects that
characterize their attacks. Their
incessant gnawings and nibblings
are undoubtedly sufficient to
cause great irritation ; but there
are the different symptoms in-
duced by different species — scur-
fy, inflamed surfaces, coarse, lep-
rous crusts, deep ulcers, etc. ; can
these be accounted for by de-
grees of mechanical irritation, or
are they possibly the result of some special poisonous virus ? The itch-
mite is found on the lion, dog, sheep, ox, horse, pig, and other animals,
as well as on man. There are several other species, as the S, scahiei-
crustosce, or Norwegian itch-mite, most common in Norway, but not
wholly confined to that country. The mite is much like the common
species, but smaller and darker. The malady is similar to that of the
common itch, though all the symptoms are intensified, the tubercles
and crusts growing enormously. It yields, however, to cleanliness
and the sulphur treatment. S. cati infests the domestic cat, the points
of attack being the base of the nose, the lips, the ears, and the eyes,
but spreading in all directions ; the animal is reduced to a pitiable
condition, being literally devoured alive by the parasites, if not de-

Fig. 12.— Burrow of Itch-Insect (Sarcoptes sca-
We?').— Female depositing eggs. The eggs lying
next to the insect consist partly of an homoge-
neous, partly of a granular mass : in those dis-
tant from the insect embryos are already de-
veloped, and at the entrance of the furrow a
moving acarus is seen.

MITES, TICKS, AND OTHER ACARI.

513

stroyed before this extreme stage is reached. This complaint is chiefly

seen in great towns. S. mutans (Fig. 13) is parasitic on birds and

domestic fowls, appearing on the feet,

on the comb, and about the beak,

gradually spreading until the whole

body is involved. Other species have

been found on other domesticated

and wild animals, while a large genus

— the louse-mites, Myobia — infest the

smaller mammals, as rats, mice, cats,

etc.

The Demodex folliculorum is a

minute animal, -^^ to -^-^ of an incli in

length, that lives in sebaceous sacs and

hair follicles of the human skin, par-
ticularly about the nose (Fig. 14). Its

habits are in some respects similar to fig. is.-SAKcopTESMUTANs-Maie, under-

those of the itch-mites. It is not a " ^'

normal inhabitant of the follicles or glands, but appears to enter

them from without. If pressure be made upon any one of the seba-
ceous follicles that are enlarged and whitish, with a
terminal black spot, matter will be forced out, con-
sisting mostly of accumulated sebaceous secretions,
in which the parasite, if pi-eseut, will be imbedded to-
gether with its eggs and young. The secretion may
be softened with oil, so tliat these may be separated
and the animal removed with a pointed brush. They
do not seem to be present in all persons, occurring in
two or three cases out of ten, and seeming to prefer
thick, greasy skins. They are entirely harmless, and
their presence is no indication of disease. The family
roll of the acari closes with the gall-mites, Phytop-
tidcB, a curious and little-known group that causes the
abnormal growths known as galls on the leaves and
other parts of various plants. Any extended refer-
ence to them here would be out of place. The whole
of the order Acarina afford interesting objects of in-
vestigation, being in close relations to man, and yet
very imperfectly known. Some of their forms are
always attainable, and an examination of tliem under
the lower powers of the microscope is one of the most
amusing objects of study that can be presented to the

Fig. 14 -Demodex ^

rOLLICULOKUM. yuuiig.

S.VV?

'-^

SH THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

TYPHOID-FEVEK POISON.

Bt ELY VAN DE WAEKER, M. D.

ON the 4th of September, 1876, Otto Schmidt, an industrious and
thrifty German, reached his home after an absence of a week at
the Centennial Fair at Philadelphia. How and where he lodged, and
what he ate, during the five days he was at that city, we have no means
of knowing, for, bj the time he had exhausted the marvels of the ex-
hibition in his voluble German tongue, he had lost all idea of unity of
place, and was wandering mentally amid the busy wonders of Machinerv
Hall. The reason of his mental migration was a very simple matter.
Otto was sick. On the 8th he complained of headache, bodily prostra-
tion, and mental lassitude. The next day the distress in his head was
very severe, with pain in the back and limbs, and chilly sensations. The
day following there was fever with loss of appetite, and toward evening
he vomited the only food he had taken that day. On the 11th he thought
he was better; but on the 12th the fever, both morning and evening, was
marked. The next day he was seen by a physician, and the disease was
recognized as typhoid fever. And here, having given in brief the his-
tory of the misfortune that had befallen Otto, let me describe the little
segment of the world that held all that was dear to him in the way
of family and friends. In order to appreciate what follows, every point
and detail in this miniature survey must be understood and remem-
bered.

No reader of history can follow the marching and countermarching
of hostile armies without his map ; and here also, upon a space of
ground one hundred and sixty-five by five hundred feet, we have the
invasion of an active, subtile, invisible foe after due declaration of war.
To the reader and myself this narrow limit of ground is historical.
Here was fought one of the most destructive battles ever recorded in
the annals of human misery — a campaign between this imponderable
invader and the vitality of a score of human beings. This conflict was
waged unheeded by the dense population around, which seemed bent
more on enjoying itself during the pleasant harvest weather than wit-
nessing an unequal fight.

The ward of the city of Syracuse is bailt in its northern exten-
sion upon a series of parallel hills and valleys. These hills, with steep
eastern and western flanks, govern in a measure the direction of the
streets. There are three of these crests, with corresponding valleys.
The locality indicated in the cut is situated in the central depression.
Directly to the west it is commanded by the second ridge, the sides
partly built up, partly terraced, and the summit is crowned by Lookout
Park, a pleasure-ground of doubtful promise, its scanty verdure being
checked in its growth by the stony soil and the violent winds that

TYPHOID-FEVER POISON.

515

sweep the summit. The slope of the hill east of the infected locality is
of much lighter grade than that of the western ridges, and is thickly
built up with small frame houses, except that about one hundred yards
south of the group of houses, shown in the cut, the slope of the ridge
is covered to the extent of twelve acres by the city cemetery, filled by

Explanation. — a, S, c, d, e, /, f/, h, i, k, houses ; L and C, streets ; w, w, sewer and house
flrains ; p, privies ; ,«, f, u, v, wells. The Arabic numeral? attached to the houses indicate the
number of cases of fever in each. The Roman numerals indicate the order in whicli each house
was invaded by the fever, n, sewer opening in the street gutter, if, uninfected houses.

eight thousand interments, and still used as a burying-ground. Tliis
second valley differs from the other in being gradually narrowed in its
northern extension, so that the streets i and C gradually approach
and enter each other at an acute angle about one hundred yards north
of the scene of the infection. The little group of houses shown in the
map are isolated by vacant lots to the north and south. The houses
were one story frame, gable ends faced to the street, neat and comfort-
able, and were, with one or two exceptions, little freeholds, occupied
by their owners, tidy and industrious Germans, except that the houses
f and g were occupied, one by English and the other by Irish-American
families. The houses were built two upon each city lot of sixty -six
feet front by one hundred and twenty feet deep, and separated fi'om
each other by light picket and board fences. Several of the owners
turned their ground to account by growing vegetables. At an average
distance of twenty feet to the rear of each house were the usual privy-
vaults, all of them too shallow and badly cared for. The water-supply

5i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

was very defective, as this portion of the city was not supplied by the
city water company. Well-water was therefore used for drinking and
cooking purposes ; while for washing, rain-water was caught either in
cisterns or hogsheads. The water for culinary use was obtained from
three sources. The houses g^ h, ^, c, and d obtained water from the
well t ; the houses «, b, k, from the well v ; while the people in houses
e and /"crossed the road and patronized the well at s. This was the
customary manner of supplying their wants. The source of supply at s
was cut off during a short time, but, as this incident gave a clew to one
of the most interesting facts of the investigation, I shall consign it to
a later period of the narrative for the sake of what the critics call the
dramatic unities.

Assuming that the details of the locality are sufficiently clear to
enable the reader to understand the different steps of the search, I shall
give at once the marches and halts of the fever in its invasion, and the
amount of damage it inflicted on the population of our intra-mural
hamlet.

As the reader knows, Otto Schmidt was taken sick on the 8th
of September, and, as we have given him all the importance that
belonged to him individually, I shall designate the other cases by
the letters indicating the different houses. On the 4th of October a
young woman was taken sick in the house g, the only case in a family
of four ; six days later the first case occurred in c, a family specially
afflicted, as here four persons were stricken, leaving but two of the fam-
ily, girls aged ten and fourteen years, untouched. These four cases
were taken sick in the following order — the 10th, 14th, and 23d of the
month ; on the 20th and 26th we have two other cases in the house d,
and two cases, at intervals of eight and twelve days later, in the house
h, near neighbors of the Schmidts. In the house J', at nearly the same
time, a case of the fever occurred. The last family attacked resided at
e, and here the disease seemed to linger with special animosity, the first
person being attacked on October 28th, and the last on November
8th. At this place and date the disease expended its force. In Otto
Schmidt's family there were two additional cases taken on the 16th and
20th of October. In the total there were seventeen cases ; five were
very light, what some authors have called " walking cases." In the
remaining twelve cases there were three deaths, one from an intercur-
rent pneumonia, or lung inflammation, one from intestinal htemorrhage,
and the other, without any special complication, gave way before the
onslaught of the poison.

In an investigation of the kind before us we must have a knowledge
of all the circumstances, and therefore, even at the risk of weaving such
a complicated array of events around this drama of disease that it may
need the skill of a professional novelist to disentangle us from the
meshes, we must glance for a moment at the condition of the weather
during at least the early part of the outbreak. From about the begin-

TYPHOID-FEVER POISON. 517

ning- of September a period of continuous dry weather characterized the
month ; there may have been one or two slight showers, but not suffi-
cient to change the general condition of dryness of earth and air.
During this drought the well at s gave out, and continued dry until re-
plenished by the late fall rains. The wind, blowing generally from the
west and northwest, served to keep the temperature down, but not to
lessen the unpleasant dryness of the air. This was changed on the 20th
by a thunderstorm from the west, repeating itself from the east after a
brief interval with nearly equal force. So violent, however, were the
wind and rainfall, that the water was carried off by surface-wash, filling
up sewers and cellars and tearing out gutters, but doing harm rather
than good to vegetation. The drought was ended, however, as this was
followed by a series of easy showers. During October there was much
wet and cold weather, the meteorological complexion of the late fall
being decidedly unpleasant.

Now that we are ready to begin the story of our search, what shall
we look for ? We have here a circumscribed outbreak of typhoid fever,
a disease admittedly of an infectious nature, but proceeding from what
kind of infection ? Shall we content ourselves with finding a heap of
decomposing vegetable or animal matter, or rest satisfied by discovering
an escape of sewer-gas from some untrapped drain into one or more of
the houses ? Since we — the reader and I — are scientific and reasonable
people, we can not adopt the theory that the disease is contagious — an
opinion held by some able but rather easy-going physicians — and hav-
ing once effected a lodgment in the community is capable of infecting
all who have systems favorable to the development of the poison. The
disease is not contagious in the sense that small-pox and scarlet fever
are. We have proof in the outbreak we are studying that it is not of
such a nature ; but we have further proof. Liebermeister says that he
had never seen in the hospitals of Greifswald, Berlin, and Tubingen a
single hospital patient, phN'sician, or nurse attacked with typhoid fever,
although such cases were placed in the general wards. Dr. Murchison
states that during a period of fourteen years 2,506 patients were treated
for typhoid fever in the London Fever Hospital, and yet during this
long period, and notwithstanding this vast number of patients, only
eight cases originated in the hospital. It is needless to cite further
evidence, and, since we can not save ourselves hard work by the slip-
shod theory of contagion, w^e must explore further.

Sewer-gas and decomposing matter we can not dismiss in this sum-
mary way ; for here we are entering upon the special preserves of
boards of health, sanitary engineers, and all others who advocate the
gospel of cleanliness. In admitting or excluding sewer-gas as an ele-
ment in the spread of the disease, we need a more complete array oi
conditions than is furnished by our group of houses ; but such evidence
as is wanting we must procure from other sources. A glance at the
cut will show that but three houses in the fever-group were connected

5i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

with the street sewer. Two of these, e and /", were drained from the
cellars by cement pipes four inches in diameter, the slops from the
houses being thrown upon the ground. The house g was drained both
from the cellar and by a branch pipe, untrapped, leading to an open
sink by the side of the kitchen door. Two of these houses were the
sixth and seventh in the order of invasion by the fever. There can be
but little doubt in the event of heavy rains and sudden change of tem-
perature that sewer-gas escaped into these houses. I never was able to
detect such an escape of gas, but I concede the fact from what I know •
of city sewerage. If, however, we accept the explanation of the propa-
gation of the fever after its first introduction in the person of Otto
Schmidt by means of the sewer-gas, we leave unexplained a very im-
portant circumstance. In the group of infected houses but three out
of seven were connected with the street sewer, so that in this particular
outbreak sewer emanations are not competent to explain the extension
of the disease. We may throw yet further doubt on the sewer theory
by the fact that in the cottages M^ containing numerous inmates, we have
a group of uninfected "houses, three of which were directly connected
with the same sewei. If we were seeking for the cause of typhoid
fever in defective drainage we should select these uninfected houses, as
they not only had untrapped sewer pipes in the kitchens, which were
practically the living-rooms of the families, but they were built at the
foot of the slope and received the surface-wash of the rich alluvium of
the hill to the west. Notwithstanding these unhygienic conditions and
the actual existence of seventeen cases of the disease on the other side
of the street, we find here complete immunity. When we have con-
sidered what this fever-poison really is, we shall be in a position to
understand the origin of the disease from this source.

In seeking for a cause of the rapid spread of the fever in decom-
posing matter we are still at fault. The houses were all new, none of
them having been built longer than five years. About none of them
was found anything like an accumulation of refuse matter. They were
careless about disposing of the water from wash-tubs and what is
familiar to every housewife under the name of " dish-water " ; but these
were disposed of with more care than usual, as owing to the dry weather
they were scattered over the gardens. In the condition of the vaults
a critical inspector could find fault, yet they were in as good condition
as these very defective household appendages usually are. Admitting
a focus of infection at the house of Otto Schmidt, it is difficult to con-
ceive of such a wide diffusion of the virus as to suddenly establish a
focus at each of these seven points. This, however, is one of the least
of the difficulties met with in tracing the disease to the decomposition
of animal or vegetable matter. In typhoid fever we have a specific
disease ; that is, it exhibits a well-defined and uniform manner of be-
ginning, a culmination and decline equally well marked, and, taken
together, a group of symptoms and anatomical lesions that define

TYPEOID-FEVER POISON. 519

typhoid fever and no other disease the world over, and under all con-
ditions. The question comes up — and the pjthogenic (putrefaction)
theory must be competent to afford an answer, or it will have to be
abandoned — In what way can an infection, which must be composed of
many heterogeneous and opposing elements, and produced under widely
different conditions, be capable of producing in different individuals,
each affording a nidus for the development of the poison under an
almost infinite diversity of circumstances, one uniform train of symp-
toms, one specific, well-marked disease ? The answer to this is, that
it depends on the kind of matter decomposed. To human excrement,
above all others, has been given this fatal power. To this recently
sewer-gas, which we have already excluded from the chain of possible
causes, has been added. But typhoid fever has never been produced
by experiments with decomposing substances, nor by products of de-
composition accidentally introduced into the human body ; and, further,
it is opposed to our daily experience. There are vast numbers of houses
in which the aflfluvia of vaults may be detected in all the rooms, others
in which the inmates are constantly inhaling sewer-gas, and the fixed as
well as the transient inhabitants escape the disease. It is safe to say
that cities with defective sewerage are the rule ; that some cities and
villages are more filthy than others ; that in some quarters of a city the
decomposition of organic and excrementitious matter is constantly
going on ; and yet we find typhoid fever prevailing independently of all
these theoretical sources of infection : we find it localized in one sec-
tion, even in one block of buildings, while others presenting equally
favorable conditions have not produced "a case within the memory of
man.

The theory has been seriously damaged by its friends. Not only
typhoid fever, but a series of specific diseases, of the origin of which we
are in a measure ignorant, have been referred to the decomposition of
organic substances. Dysentery, yellow fever, cholera, typhus fever,
and the plague have been assigned to this cause. Liebermeister says
that this " very circumstance shows that to explain the origin of typhoid
fever by a general and indefinite assumption of a decomposition of
organic substances is not satisfactory. It is not every kind of decom-
position that can produce typhoid fever ; it must be some specific form
of decomposition which elaborates as a specific product the poison of
that disease."

In the epidemic which we are studying we have excluded the theory
of contagiousness. We saw in the conditions reasons for excluding
the sewers as a means of extension ; and I trust, from what I have said
of the nature of the disease-germs, the reader is willing to admit that
I have some reason for the belief that we can not find an origin de novo
in the house-vaults.

The atmosphere in this epidemic is not a probable means of the
extension of the germs. We are not able to say positively that the

520 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

air will not convey the jDoison, although it is safe to say that the
area of its diffusion by this means is very limited. Instances in which
sewer-gas has been known to be the means of conveyance are numerous,
but the cases were confined to one or more rooms directly communicat-
ing with the sewer, or to a limited part of a building. But the typhoid-
fever poison is not a gas. In such a shape we can not conceive that it
will lie dormant in suitable soil, that it will undergo phases which so
closely resemble germination and growth, or that it can be transmitted
to long distances when given a proper vehicle. We have here a right
to make a scientific use of the imagination. We can not imagine it a
gas, but we can form an idea of it as an atom, a germ capable of pres-
ervation, growth, and infinite multiplication. It has never been seen ;
it may be that it will never be seen. In the physical sciences we pro-
ject ourselves ideally into the midst of many things unseen, yet with
perfect theoretical conviction in the reality of their existence.

In the group of cottages to which the epidemic was confined we ob-
serve a certain order in the arrangement of the infected buildings. A
close examination of the plan is nearly sufficient to convince one that
this order is not due to chance. Nor can we explain it by a conveyance
of the disease-germs in the clothing of the inmates. We have in the
exempt houses a sufficient warrant against this supposition. The in-
habitants of the exempt houses, as the outbreak of the fever extended,
assumed generously nearly all the care of the afflicted families. They
were daily and nightly in attendance upon the sick, and in many cases
assisted in washing the linen. If this were true of the inhabitants of
the houses that were exempt from the scourge, we are nearly safe in
excluding personal conveyance of the germs by those who inhabited
houses showing a sequence of infection.

During my attendance upon several of the cases I repeatedly looked
\)ver the ground and studied the habits of the difi"erent families, but, I
am ready to confess, without discovering the clew to the extension of
the disease from the single focus in the person of Schmidt ; that is, to
discover a clew that would meet the demands of the scientific germ the-
ory. However, I became convinced that if I were able to find some
domestic arrangement or prevailing condition that linked the infected
families together under a common liability to the disease, I should be-
come master of the position. Such a connecting link I found in the
water-supply of the different families. I did not make the discover}^
accidentall}^, but only as a result of a systematic investigation. In all
researches of this kind I believe that it is rare that the truth is stumbled
upon in the course of a careless search. If we do not exclude cause
after cause in the course of the search, we are almost sure in the end
to halt midway between two probable conclusions without being sure
of either.

It is necessary to recall the fact that five houses, g, h, i, e, and d,
were supplied with water from the well t — an open curb-well, loosely

TYPHOID-FEVER POISON. 521

stoned up, belonging to Otto Schmidt. All of these houses were in-
vaded by the fever. But it is necessary to account for the contamina-
tion of the water. Here comes in the fact that gave me the key to the
mystery. On the 20th of September, as I have already stated, there
occurred a severe thunderstorm. It was so violent that a large amount
of the rainfall was carried off as surface-wash. It did considerable
damage to the gardens, and, among other things, filled up to overflow-
ing the vault attached to Otto Schmidt's house. Here was deposited
all the excrementitious matter from this severe case of the disease. It
was easy to observe, from the appearance of a board walk, of the grass
and ground, that the overflow had scattered material of this kind in the
neighborhood of the well. Whether it ran into the well, or filtered
through the ground, it is difficult to say ; either could have occurred,
or possibly both.

Now observe what occurred. Fourteen days after the shower, the
4th of October, a case of the disease broke out in the house g. Twenty
days after, the first case was taken down in the house c ; thirty and
thirty-six days later, two cases in c?, and two cases at intervals of six
and twelve days later in the house A. These were the families habit-
ually dependent on the Schmidt well for their supply of water.

Admitting that I am right in tracing these cases to the contami-
nation of the well ^, by the shower of the 20th of September, we have
left two families in which occurred five cases of the fever who did not
make use of this well. On questioning the people in the houses e and,/",
I learned that they crossed the road and drew water from the well s.
This missing link in my chain of cause and effect made a halt in my
investigations. I had fancied that I was so near success that I took
this disappointment as a sort of personal matter, and was half inclined
to give the whole thing up. I made another effort ; I crossed the road
and investigated the well and its owner. There was no fault to be
found with the well, which was a " drive well " ; but the owner told me
that it occasionally became dry, and was in that condition before and
for a week or two after the great shower of September. Back I went
to my fever-houses, and exploded this question like a bomb-shell in the
midst of their inhabitants : " Where did you go for water when the
Bogert well was dry ? " " Oh, we went to INIr. Schmidt's well."

After this testimony let us trace the course of the invasion a step
further. The fever appeared among the inmates of the house/ on the
20th of October, and of the house e on the 28th. Had we no further
evidence, here is sufficient to render probable that these cases were due
to drinking the infected water from the Schmidt well. But we may
strengthen it by negative evidence. The inhabitants of the uninfected
group of houses on the opposite side of the street at M never used
the suspected well. When the well s became dry they resorted to the
well at X. There is one other group of uninfected houses, two of them
belonging to the same block as the infected houses, and one situated on
VOL. XIV. — 34

522 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the opposite side of the street L. These three houses contained fifteen
inmates, all of them coming into frequent contact with the sick. These
people were supplied with water from the well at v, and were through-
out the epidemic exempt from the disease. Thus, to sum up, all the
families that were supplied from the Schmidt well after the 20th of Sep-
tember had one or more m.embers attacked by the fever ; all the fami-
lies that were furnished with water from other sources escaped. The
conclusion is reasonable that in the drinking-water we have the means
of the diffusion of the germs.

I have here shown a direct connection between the case of Otto
Schmidt and that of every other infected person. This connection,
traced through the drinking-water, was a discovery in our own epi-
demic; but it is by no means a discovery as a means of diffusion of the
disease. This has long been known, and the literature of the subject
is full of instruction.

It must be borne in mind, however, that not all water contaminated
with organic impurities will cause typhoid fever. There must be among
these impurities the specific poison of the disease. And this, as we
have been able to prove, can be traced to former foci of typhoid fever.
Other fluids may be contaminated in the same manner. An interesting
report of an epidemic of the disease in England was given in the " Lan-
cet " several years ago. A pasture had been manured by sewer prod-
ucts. Here were fed a large number of milch cows. In a neighboring
town typhoid fever became rife. The victims, it was discovered, all used
milk from this dairy ; those who did not make use of it escaped. One
can not help speculating about the way in which the disease-germs en-
tered the milk. The more probable explanation is a mechanical one :
that the germs adhered to the udders of the cows and were brushed off
in the act of milking. It hardly seems reasonable that the germs passed
through the organism of the cows and thus entered the milk. The the-
ory of a contagium vivum is further fortified by the circumstance that,
by boiling, the power to harm is taken away from the infected fluids.

It must be observed that between the entrance of the infecting ele-
ments into the system and the breaking out of the symptoms which
define the disease, a varying period of time intervenes. This is called
the period of incubation. It is a feature which distinguishes the entire
group of infectious diseases. In determining the length of this period
there are two elements of uncertainty: first, it is difficult to fix the
exact time of infection ; secondly, it is often impossible to define the
exact beginning of the disease. In typhoid fever, 'especially, the onset
is insidious and slow. Days and even weeks may be passed in a de-
pressed, languid state of the health, before the disease is recognized as
typhoid fever. Among business men these initial symptoms are often
explained by taking cold, or by overwork. During the epidemic at
Basle a few persons were attacked after a residence in the city of from
seven to fourteen days ; others after sixteen days. Haegler found in

SKETCH OF ELI SB A GRAY. 523

three cases caused by drinking-water a period of incubation of twenty-
one days. In our own epidemic one case occurred in fourteen days
after drinking the water, the average time being about twenty days.
The general experience at the present time points to an incubation of
about three weeks ; but it may vary from two to four weeks, or even
longer.

It is an interesting question, but one to which I cannot give a
satisfactory answer, Why do not all who are exposed to the infecting
cause suffer from the disease ? In some cases it may be due to idiosyn-
crasy. Some people resist powerfully the encroachment of all infectious
diseases, while others seem fated to have an opportunity of testing in
their own person every prevailing malady. Experience teaches, how-
ever, that typhoid fever, unlike many other diseases of the group, is fa-
vored in its development by unhygienic surroundings. Bad air, bad
food, uncleanliness, and over-population of a house or quarter of a citv,
create a condition in the system favorable to a rapid and virulent de-
velopment of the fever after an infection by the germs. We know
nevertheless, that no house nor person is exempt from the disease after
receiving the exciting cause. Prince and peasant alike have to bow to
the malignant potency of these infecting germs.

-♦♦♦-

SKETCH OF ELISHA GKAY.

By GEOEGE B. PEESCOTT.

~rpLISHA GRx\Y, the inventor of the Speaking Telephone, was born
-L-^ at Barnesville, Belmont County, Ohio, August 2, 1835. During
his boyhood he was profoundly interested in all the phenomena of na-
ture, and had an intense desire, whenever he saw any manifestation of
physical force, to become acquainted with the secret of its operation.
Among all the phenomena throughout the domain of physics, nothing
took such hold upon his mind as that exhibited in the various effects
produced by the action of electricity, and he read whatever he could
find relating to this subject with the same eagerness and interest that
most boys would read "Robinson Crusoe" or the "Arabian Nights."

While yet a boy he constructed a Morse register, all the parts of
which were made of wood, with the exception of the magnet, armature,
and embossing point in the end of the lever (which latter he made by
filing a nail down to a point). He had the magnet bent into a U-form
by a blacksmith, and then wound it with brass bell-wire, which was
insulated with strips of cotton cloth wrapped around it by hand. For
a battery he made use of a candy-jar, in which he placed coils of sheet
copper and zinc, with a solution of blue vitriol. With these materials
he succeeded in making a very good electro-magnet, which would sus-

524 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tain nearly a pound weight, and which, when mounted as a part of the
instrument, performed the work of actuating *the armature with perfect
success.

At quite an early age he was apprenticed to a blacksmith, and worked
with him at that business about one year. He found, however, that this
business was too laborious for him, and relinquished it to become an
apprentice to a carpenter, joiner, and boat-builder, with whom he served
a full apprenticeship, during which time he was employed in almost
every department of woodwork. The prime motive which actuated
him through all these years that he had worked at the bench was his
thirst for knowledge. He felt sure that, with his trade as his capital,
he could work his way through a course of study. In pursuance of
this idea, after the time had expired for which he had apprenticed him-
self, he began a regular course of study, and, by working a portion of
each day and during vacation at his trade, was enabled to pay his
necessary expenses and keep up with his class. Here, as everywhere
else, the capacity and ability to master everything relating to physical
science was perhaps the most prominent characteristic exhibited during
his collegiate course. While studying natural philosophy, it was his
custom to make and carry with him into the class such apparatus as
could be readily constructed and would serve to illustrate the lesson.
His habit of actually constructing everything which he saw or read of,
so far as his facilities would allow, was the best possible method of
fixing the principles of its operation firmly in his mind.

Mr. Gray's career as a professional electrician and inventor dates
from the year 1865. His first patent for electrical or telegraphic appa-
ratus was granted October 1, 1867. Since that time he has made a con-
siderable number of electrical inventions, many of which have been
patented. Including cases now pending, the number amounts to about
forty in this country and thirty in foreign countries. Thirty of the
United States cases and twenty-five of the foreign relate to the tele-
phone.

His attention was first called to the subject of telephonic transmis-
sion in the winter of 1867. In the course of his experiments during this
winter and spring, he made use of a vibrating electrotome or reed in
the primary circuit of an induction coil, and an electro-magnet having
a polarized armature, in the secondary circuit. A Morse transmitting
key was also inserted in the last-mentioned circuit. When the electro-
tome was in operation, and the Morse key in the secondary circuit was
closed, he noticed a singing sound in the electro-magnet, and, by work-
ing the key as if transmitting a Morse message, the signals were audibly
produced on the magnet by long and short sounds, representing the
dots and dashes of the Morse alphabet. He saw in it a method for
transmitting signals for telegraphic purposes, and also about the same
time conceived the idea of arranging a key-board, having electrotomes
tuned to the different tones in the scale. He did not, however, at this

SKETCH OF ELISHA GRAY. 525

time realize tlie full value of the invention, as his attention was mainly
directed to the capacity of the apparatus for transmitting musical tones
through an electric circuit.

In the winter of 1874 Mr. Gray observed a singular circumstance in
connection with the reproduction of electrically transmitted vibrations
through the medium of animal tissue. On going into the bath-room
he found his nephew playing with a small induction coil — "taking
shocks," as he expressed it, for the amusement of the smaller children.
He had connected one end of the secondary coil to the zinc lining of
the bath-tub, which was dry at that time. Holding the other end of
the coil in his left hand he touched the lining of the tub with the right.
In making contact, his hand would glide along the side for a short dis-
tance. At these times Mr. Gray noticed a sound proceeding from under
his hand at the point of contact, which seemed to have the same pitch
and quality as that of the vibrating electrotome, which was within hear-
ing. Mr. Gray immediately took the electrode in his own hand, and,
repeating the operation, to his astonishment found that, by rubbing
hard and rapidly, he could make a much louder sound than the electro-
tome was making. He then changed the pitch of the vibration, increas-
ing its rapidity, and found that the pitch of the sound under his hand
was also changed, it still agreeing with that of the transmitted vibra-
tion. He then moistened his hand and continued the rubbing, but no
sound was produced so long as his hand remained wet ; but, as soon as
the parts in contact became dry, the sound reappeared. So striking
was the effect that, by hard rubbing with the dry hand, the noise could
be distinctly heard throughout the house.

This experiment produced a profound impression upon his mind, and
determined him at once to take the matter up in earnest and see what
might be in it. He procured a violin, and, taking off the strings, sub-
stituted in their place a thin metal plate provided with a wire connec-
tion, so that he could attach it to one pole of the induction coil or bat-
tery, thus placing it in the same position, with reference to the body,
that the bath-tub was in the original experiment. By rubbing the plate
in the same manner as before described, the sound of the electrotome
was reproduced, accompanied by the peculiar quality or timbre belong-
ing to the violin. He noticed, however, that the characteristics of the
initial vibrations were faithfully preserved, and all that was needed was
to sift out such foreign vibrations as were excited in the receiver, owing
to its peculiar construction ; in which case there would remain the exact
character of the transmitted vibrations.

In March, 1874, Mr. Gray undertook to secure letters patent for
some of his conceptions, and with that purpose in view had models
made, illustrating the idea of a series of transmitters, each tuned to a
different pitch, showing a method of receiving musical or other sounds
telegraphically, through the medium of animal tissue. In June, 1874,
he filed another case, substituting for the animal-tissue receiver an

526 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

electro-magnet combined with a hollow box of tinned iron, having an
opening in one side, while the other was held over the poles of the
magnet at such a distance from it as would produce the best effect.
With this apparatus he noticed that when he depressed two keys on
his transmitter, if these were in the proper relation to each other, a
composite tone would be received, thus demonstrating the general fact
that, with a transmitter and receiver properly constructed and arranged
in the circuit, composite tones of varying quality could be telegraphi-
cally transmitted and received.

When the fact dawned upon him, and had been confirmed by dem-
onstration, that sounds of a composite character could be transmitted
through a telegraphic circuit and reproduced at the receiving end,
and the possibilities of the invention and the great results to which it
must eventually lead passed through his mind, he at once foresaw so
many possible applications of it that it became a serious question which
line of investigation to iirst pursue. Among other conceptions of the
probabilities of the invention was that, at an early day, not only musical
compositions of a complicated character, but even articulate speech,
would be transmitted through a single telegraph wire. He could also
see that musical tones, differing in pitch, could be simultaneously trans-
mitted through the wire and analyzed at the receiving end, so that a
transmitter and a receiver correspondingly tuned would transmit and
receive a tone corresponding to their own pitch, rejecting all others ;
while at the same time a number of other tones differing in pitch might
be simultaneously transmitted and received through the same wire. This
he successfully accomplished, sending as many as eight messages simul-
taneously. Another conception which occurred to him at this time was
that of applying the invention to a printing telegraph, so that each type
would be actuated by a tone of a particular pitch. Being well conversant
with the facts, so far as they were then known in the science of electri-
city and magnetism, he was fully prepared to avail himself of what had
already been done in that line. He was not, however, experimentally
conversant to the same extent with the facts in the science of acoustics,
but theoretically the subject was a familiar one to him. He devoted
considerable time to familiarizing himself experimentally with that sci-
ence, especially that branch which related to the qualities of composite
tones ; so that he was able to give the composition of the various vowel
sounds, and determine in general the relation between the character of
a sound as it seemed to the hearer and the physical fact as it existed in
the form of motion, either in the air or any medium through which it
was propagated.

The early part of 1874 he devoted principally to the construction of
various devices for telegraphically transmitting musical tones. Among
the receivers which he used was an electro-magnet with a circular dia-
phragm made of a thin sheet of tinned iron. It will be observed that
this instrument embraces all the substantial features in the mechanical

SKETCH OF ELISHA GRAY. 527

construction of the speaking telephone of to-day. When used in con-
nection with his articulating transmitter, which was developed at a
later date, articulate words have been received upon it ; and when a
duplicate of the instrument is inserted in a closed circuit, which includes
a galvanic battery, it becomes a speaking telephone capable of acting
both as a transmitter and as a receiver. Mr. Gray did not know at
that time, however, that he could use it as a transmitter, although he
had fully demonstrated its ability to receive sounds of varying quality.
At that date his conception of a transmitter for the transmission of ar-
ticulate words was a mechanism which would employ such tones as were
needed, and would enable one to manipulate them in whatever manner
was requisite to produce the desired effect. In other words, he sup-
posed it would be necessary to construct a mechanism similar to the
vocal orsrans of the throat, which would mold electrical waves into the
same form that the air is molded when a spoken word is uttered. This
seemed too complicated a machine to be easily constructed ; hence he
determined to experiment particularly in the direction of the more per-
fect transmission of composite tones, so that each individual tone would
have its individuality and place properly preserved in the clang of
which it was a part ; and to the analysis of the same at the receiving
end, so that any particular tone would respond upon one instrument,
and one only. This general result once attained, it was his purpose to
make an application of it to multiple, printing, and autographic teleg-
raphy. While engaged in these experiments he was continually on
the alert for developments that might assist him to solve the inter-
esting problem already before his mind, that of transmitting spoken
words. Shortly after he constructed a transmitter, consisting of a re-
volving shaft, upon which were mounted two eccentric cams, having one
or more projections. These actuated two small levers, causing them to
vibrate upon their respective break-points, through whicli points a bat-
tery current passed. He employed, in connection with this transmit-
ter, a receiver which was adapted to the reception of all varieties of
sounds.

When this apparatus was put in operation a sound of peculiar qual-
ity, not unlike that of the human voice when in great distress, proceeded
from the receiver. By altering the tension of the spring in various
ways he was able to imitate many different sounds involving the vow-
els only, and succeeded, among other things, in producing a groan with
all its inflections in the greatest perfection. Up to the time of making
this experiment Mr. Gray had associated in his mind, in connection with
transmission of spoken words, a complicated mechanism. This experi-
ment produced an entire change in his views, and he came to the con-
clusion that in solving the problem of transmitting spoken words it was
not necessary to consider the mechanism of the vocal organs at all, but
simply the physical results produced in the atmosphere by them, and
all that was necessary, therefore, was to devise a transmitter that would

528 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reproduce electrically an exact copy of the atmospheric vibrations pro-
duced by any sound whatever.

During a visit in Milwaukee at this time, Mr, Gray saw for the first
time a toy called the lovers' telegraph, consisting of a membrane
stretched over the end of a tube, and having a thread attached to
the center, the other end of which was attached to a similar membrane.
The fact that spoken words were distinctly transmitted by the lon-
gitudinal vibrations of the thread from one membrane to the other
confirmed the idea that he had formed a year previous ; and it imme-
diately solved in his mind the problem of making a transmitter that
would copy electrically the physical vibrations of the air produced by
articulate sounds. He determined to put this into practical shape, and
file it in the records of the Patent-Office. He accordingly put his
speaking telephone into the form of drawings and specifications, and
filed them in the United States Patent-Office, February 14, 1876. In
his specification he states that he has invented a new art of tele-
graphically transmitting vocal sounds whereby the tones of the human
voice can be transmitted through a telegraphic circuit, and reproduced
at the receiving end of the line, so that actual conversations can be car-
ried on by persons at long distances apart, and that he has devised an
instrument capable of vibrating responsively to all the tones of the hu-
man voice, and by which they are rendered audible.

His method of providing an apparatus capable of responding to the
various tones of the human voice was a diaphragm stretched across
one end of a chamber, carrying an apparatus for producing fluctuations
in the potential of the electric current, and consequently varying in its
power. The vibrations thus imparted were to be transmitted through
an electric circuit to the receiving station, in which circuit was included
an electro-magnet of ordinary construction, acting upon a diaphragm
to which was attached a piece of soft iron, and which diaphragm was
stretched across a receiving vocalizing chamber, similar to the corre-
sponding vocalizing chamber at the transmitting end.

This is the first description on record of an articulating telephone
which transmits and reproduces the spoken words of the human voice
at a distance by means of electricity, and instruments constructed in
exact accordance with Mr. Gray's drawings and specifications, filed at
the time above stated, are good articulating telephones. Moreover, Mr.
Gray's method of producing articulate speech by varying the resistance
of a battery current is much more effective than that of Professor Bell
subsequently invented, which depends upon magneto-induction currents
generated by the action of the voice, as is fully proved by the great
superiority of Edison's carbon telephone, which is based upon this
principle.

CORRESP ONDENCE.

529

CORRESPONDENCE.

DR. LARDNER AND TRANSATLANTIC
STEAM-NAVIGATION.

To tiie Editors of the Popular Science Monthly.

GENTLEMEN : In your December num-
ber, under the heading " Editor's
Table," you Socratically repeat the state-
ment that Dr. Lardner declared that steam-
navigation across the Atlantic was imprac-
ticable. This statement you will find on
examination to be incorrect ; and, as I con-
sider that your publication is well adapted
to make known the fticts in the case, I
transmit them to you, in the hope that you
will publish them, and so contribute to their
becoming generally known. Scientific men,
as necessarily lovers of truth and exactness,
can not but desire that such a statement
should not be continued unless founded on
the basis to which it pretends. General
readers will soon adopt the correction of
the error if properly laid before them, not-
withstanding a possible bias toward enjoy-
ing what they at present regard as a dis-
proved fallacy advanced by a very able man.
The facts are as follows :

In 1828 there was published in New
York, by Elara Bliss, 128 Broadway, an
edition of Dr. Lardner's " Popular Lectures
on the Steam-Engine, . . . with additions by
James Renwick, Professor of Natural Ex-
perimental Philosophy and Chemistry in
Columbia College, New York." Mr. Ren-
wick in his preface says : " A few additions
have been considered necessary. . . . They
may be distinguished from the original para-
graphs of the text from their being marked
, by letters instead of numbers, and their hav-
ing the initials A. E. subscribed to each of
them."

At page 157 of the work I refer to, the
eleventh lecture of Dr. Lardner will be found
to commence with this proposition: "One
of the most interesting and important uses
of the steam-engine is its application to
nautical purposes. There are various ways
in which this machine may be used in pro-
pelling a vessel through the deep ; but that
which is now universally adopted is by giv-
ing, through its means, rotation to paddle-
wheels placed at the side of the vessel."
And Dr. Lardner further on says: "In 1812
steam-vessels were first introduced upon the
Clyde, and since that period steam-naviga-
tion has rapidly extended, so that at present
there is scarcely a part of the civilized globe
to which it has not found its way. 2'he
Atlantic and Pacific Oceans have been trav-
ersed by its powers, and if the prolific results

of human invention should suggest means
of diminishing the consumption of fuel, or
obtaining a supply of heat from materials
sufficiently small and light, it woidd be hard
to assign limits to the powers of this most won-
derful agent.''''

Now, we have here from Dr. Lardner
the broadest statement possible from so
careful and exact a man, that he rather
expected "the prolific results of human in-
vention," not only to render " steam-naviga-
tion across the Atlantic " practicable, but to
carry the uses of steam so far that he would
not venture to assign limits to them. And
the whole of his eleventh lecture is in this
sense and tone.

But Mr. Renwick, at page 167 of the
quoted work, has this note :

"(A:.) The steam-engine may compete
successfully with the wind as a propeller
of vessels, whenever certainty of conveyance
becomes important, as in the case of passage-
boats upon lakes and rivers. But there are
cases where steam becomes inapplicable to nav-
igation. Upon the open ocean, although the
safety of steamships has been fully tested,
the vast quantity of fuel necessary in a long
passage will prevent its use in distant voyages,
and it is besides far less economic than the
propulsion by means of sails. (A. E.) "

I have italicized a few of the more im-
portant words in these extracts, which show
that it was not Dr. Lardner but Mr. Ren-
wick who has to take the responsibility of
having said that " steam-navigation across
the Atlantic was impracticable."
Respectfully,

James Burns, M. D,

New Orleans, December 7, 1878.

INSECTS AND COLORED FLOWERS.
To the Editors of the Popular Science Monthly.

DcRiNG the summer I have spent much
of my time in a porch surrounded by petu-
nias and morning-glories, of all shades of
color from white to bright purple and dark
violet. I first observed that the colored
petunias were torn to pieces every day be-
fore noon, while the white or pale ones es-
caped almost uninjured. I soon discovered
that the bees and butterflies were the mis-
chief-makers, and that the damage was done
with their sharp claws in struggling to get
to the bottom of the flower-cup, I kept a
close watch down to the present day — when
the bees and butterflies are gone, and a few
blossoms still remain, never molested — and

53°

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ray first impressions have been fully con-
firmed. In every variety of situation and
circumstances the white petunias have been
neglected for the colored, in exact propor-
tion to the intensity and vividness of color ;
and the same I found to be true, in a less
degree, as regards the deep and pale morn-
ing-glories. I have called the attention of
others to the facts, and proved that the
preference of the insects is determined by
color alone. If there was any difference
whatever in sweetness or fragrance, it was
in favor of the rejected white flowers.
Yours respectfully,

Thomas D. Lilly.

Kent's Stoke, Fluvanna Countt, Va., I
October 23, 1878. j

AN AMERICAN HAIRY TORTOISE.
To the Editors of the Popular Science Monthly.

Noticing your interesting extract, from
" Land and Water," concerning the hairy

tortoise, I take the liberty of mentioning a
similar species found, to my knowledge, in
the lakes of this valley. Its description
taUies almost exactly with that of the Chi-
nese variety, except perhaps in size. It is
about three inches in length by two and a
half in breadth, is very closely covered by
its shell ; the calipee is not hinged, and out
of some dozen specimens examined by me
not one was without the coat of water-grass.
Its habitat is the bottom of shallow lakes
and ponds, and near the submerged roots
of trees, where it is often caught with the
hook. It has a remarkably fetid odor. The
grassy or confervoid covering is not of any
very great length, generally about one half
or three fourths of an inch. It is, I believe,
an undescribed species, though Mr. Agassiz
may have had a specimen among his collec-
tion of tortoises from the Mississippi Valley.
Very respectfully,

J. F. Battaile.
Yazoo City, Mississippi, December 8, 1878.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

COPYRIGHT AND MORALITY.

THE recent fluttering among Amer-
ican publishers caused by the dis-
covery that Canadian enterprise threat-
ens to come into successful rivalry with
them, even in their own home market,
is sufficiently amusing. The violation
of the rights of foreign authors has
been hitherto excused on the ground
that it was necessary to the promotion
of American popular education and
indispensable to the intelligence of the
country. Authors and publishers, we
have been emphatically told, are by no
means the main parties to be considered
in this matter ; both must be subordi-
nated to the requirements of cheap lit-
erature for the reading public of the
United States. This sounds patriotic
and disinterested, and we might almost
be persuaded to assent and admire,
were it not for the odd circumstance
that those who talk loudest in this
strain seem to have been the most suc-
cessful in feathering their own nests at
the expense of the dear people whose
interests they have so much at heart.
The American publisher has been vir-

tually saying to Jonathan and his fam-
ily, who, it is presumed, were intensely
hungering for knowledge, "By not
paying the foreign author I am able to
provide you with his productions many
times cheaper than you could otherwise
get them " ; and it has been agreed that
it was a very nice arrangement, high-
ly favorable to American intelligence,
which it might be a national disaster to
disturb. But when the Canadian pub-
lisher offers to join in this noble phil-
anthropic work of educating Jonathan
and his family by cheap literature, we
are surprised to observe that he gets
the cold shoulder. He says to Jona-
than and his family, " By not paying
American authors I can furnish you
with their productions many times
cheaper than you can otherwise get
them," and this he is proceeding to do
by means of the post-office. But, in-
stead of welcoming this efficient coop-
eration of the Canadian publishers for
cultivating and illuminating the Amer-
ican mind, our publishers are quite dis-
gusted, and say this thing must be
stopped, which simply shows what

EDITOR'S TABLE.

531

former pretensions have been worth.
This northern gust will blow the dust
away from many people's eyes.

But the American people ought not
to have waited for this. It should
have been settled on grounds of justice
for the benefit of the national charac-
ter. It is a serious question and a plain
one^not easy to adjust, but still wholly
practicable. It is one of those palpa-
ble matters in which where there is a
will there is certain to be found a way.
One of the worst things about it is that
our practice shows to the world the
low and disgraceful state of American
morality. We have published the evi-
dence of Huxley, Tyndall, and Spencer
before the English Commission on
Copyright, and every one who has read
it will be struck by the clear and ele-
vated ethical tone that pervades it.
These men are thought by many to be
very bad, but they are men who know
what is right and believe in it and main-
tain it unflinchingly. Has the occu-
pant of one American pulpit ever been
known to call attention to this great
national disgrace ? International copy-
right is one of those questions that
measure the degree of civilization. It
indicates the high-water mark of the
public conscience, the strength of the
sense of justice, and how far it is over-
borne by the dictates of self-interest.
It is a case in which wrong may be
perpetrated with apparent impunity.
More obtrusive questions which arise
between people of different countries
are liable to be complicated with fear,
and justice is often extorted by a dread
of the consequences of withholding it,
rather than by the simple force of the
conviction of right. But authors can't
fight for their rights, nor will govern-
ments protect them by the force of
arms. They must be content, there-
fore, to appeal to the moral sense and
the sentiment of public honor. Mili-
tary redress being out of the question,
there remains only the resort to those
civil agencies by which private rights
are protected, and the vigor with

which these act under the inspiration
of public feeling tests the degree of
civil progress or the condition of civ-
ilization. From this point of view the
American Eepublic occupies the lowest
place among the leading nations of the
civilized world; and from the scorn of
all honest men we can only escape by
setting this matter right by some form
of national action.

And the naked right of the case is
palpable enough, though, from the ob-
tuseness or indifference of the popular
mind upon the subject, it can not be
too frequently or too forcibly presented.
What we have written elsewhere upon
this point we now repeat, that it may
have a more permanent record :

The basis of an author's right of prop-
erty in the book he makes is the same as the
farmer's right in the wheat he raises. They
are each the product of capital and labor.
In one case capital is invested in land, im-
plements, and stock ; in the other it is in-
vested in education, books, and suitable ar-
rangements for literary life ; while in both
the product is the direct result of work
done. The property in his work belongs to
an author because there has been expense in
its preparation, and because he has produced
it by his immediate personal exertion. It
is his to possess and to profit by its pro-
ceeds, by all the principles of justice which
confer the ownership of any property.
Questions may arise respecting acquired
rights in literary property ; but the original
right of him who called it into existence by
his own labor is clear and beyond question.

It is often said that ideas are ethereal
things, and belong to the spiritual world,
and therefore can not become subject to
ownership ; that is, not being material prop-
erty, they can not be real property. Others,
again, curiously affirm that ideas may be
property while yet in the thinker's mind,
but cease to be so the moment tliey are sent
forth and made useiul to others ; or that
thought until expressed or published is the
property of the thinker ; when given to the
world, like light, it is free to all. Now
there is, of course, a profound difference
between ideas and material commodities,
but there is no such difference as is here
implied. They are both products of human
exertion. A sonnet is as much the result
of bodily effort as a horseshoe. The author
works with one material instrument, the

532

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mechanic with another. The mechanic pro-
duces a hat, for example, by muscular ac-
tion; and the autbor produces a book by
brain action. In both cases the result rep-
resents vital power continuously expended ;
there has been exhaustion of the bodily en-
ergies in both cases alike. The blood rep-
resents the stock of vital power, and it is
drawn upon in muscular action by the la-
borer and in cerebral action by the author.
An author, too, has need for a large amount
of blood to sustain his thinking. Physiolo-
gists tell us that the brain is more imme-
diately dependent upon a copious supply
of blood than any other part of the system.
They say that, although the"average brain is
but one thirty-sixth the weight of the body,
it demands one fifth of all the blood to keep
it in working order. Ideas, then, are bod-
ily products, and are at the expense of the
blood ; and the books containing them rep-
resent the life-forces and spent vitality of
their authors. The elements of blood come
from the market and have their price. Food
and clothing, and the conveniences of living,
are neither sent to authors from heaven, nor
are they furnished gratuitously by govern-
ment. Like other people, those who make
books depend upon their labor to live, and
they have an equal right with other people
to the fruits of their labor.

Because ideas go forth in a subtile way,
and are widely diffused, is no reason for re-
garding them as "free as the light," to be
appropriated by anybody without paying
their originators. If they are real and tan-
gible enough to steal, they are capable of
protection as property. It is in no sense a
question of the form or quality of the things
produced, for these are but accidents. If an
author is to be robbed because his property
is in an ethereal shape, why not rob the
milkman becaiise his property is in a liquid
shape ? Whether a man devote his powers
to the elaboration of thought or the elabora-
tion of matter is perfectly immaterial so far
as concerns the question of his property
right in the thing produced.

But we may go further and ask what
property can have so sacred a right of recog-
nition as that which is the product of man's
highest faculties ? The creations and con-
structions of the brain, as they have a far
higher value to the world than the mere
products of material manipulation, have also
a more transcendent and inviolable claim to
the protection of law. The hand is but the
servant of the intellect. All knowledge, art,
science, literature, discovery, invention, all
that redeems man from barbarism and cre-

ates civilization, are but results of brain- ex-
ertion ; and are we to discredit this noblest
form of effort and outlaw the men whose
lives have been consumed by it, while all
the guards of legislation are thrown round
the grosser forms of manipulative industry?
But it will be said all this is clear enough
— why multiply wearisome commonplaces?
Most true, and if our practice conformed to
these professions, nothing would need to be
said. But our practice is a direct contradic-
tion to admitted and self-evident justice,
and this is a state of things that can not be
let alone. We affirm an author's right in
his work, and then we proceed systemati-
cally to rob him of it. We are not only
thieves, but thieves proclaiming in open
day that we know ourselves to be so. To
be sure, it is foreign authors whom we rob,
but this does not affect the case, as the
rights of private property are coextensive
with civilization. It will hardly do to ob-
ject to a "foreigner" when we appreciate
his work so highly as to covet it and take it
from him wrongfully. His case against us
is clear enough. He says : " I have pro-
duced my book at much expense and with
hai'd labor. I have created property in it ;
you want it, and in taking it you attest its
value ; you appropriate it to enrich your-
selves without giving me a just equivalent ;
you steal it, and your Government protects
you in it as if it were an innocent act."
The logic is short and decisive, and it leaves
this country in no very enviable position in
the community of nations. Claiming to be
civilized, enlightened, and even Christian,
we practice an ethical code in this matter
not higher than the standard of savages.
Were our Government founded in usurpti-
tion and injustice, as we assert the European
Governments to be, there would be a kind
of consistency in maintaining this admitted
wrong ; but, while the monarchical countries
have cleared themselves of all complicity in
it, it is reserved for the people who boast of
the " best government on earth," and who
fill the world with their boasts about " hu-
man rights," to maintain an organized sys-
tem of literary brigandage in which private
rights are unscrupulously violated, and the
highest products of man's exertion are the ,
objects of indiscriminate plunder. It is a
case, moreover, in which meanness is added
to dishonesty. We take from its owner that
which he is powerless to protect. We steal
that which is confided to the public honor,
and, as if this were not enough, we add
hypocrisy to meanness by putting forth pa-
lavering pretexts for our action. There are

EDITOR'S TABLE.

533

those who say the present slate of things
should not be meddled with, and rake up
excuses for continuing it. It is bad to steal ;
it is despicable to steal from our benefactors
who happen to be compelled to trust us ;
but more despicable still is the shameless
Jesuitism by which an interested party will
seek to defend it. When listening to the
sneaking apologies that are put forward in
extenuation of such conduct, we feel as if
the mere common thief might rise in self-
respecting wrath and kick the pettifogging
poltroon out of his society.

Two things in relation to copyright may
now be considered established as completely
as anything can be established by the con-
current usage of the civilized world. By the
declaration and the practice of all nations it
has been settled, first, that an author has a
right of property in his work, which gov-
ernment is bound to protect ; and, second,
that the public also has rights by which
those of the author are restricted. There
are extremists who maintain that an author's
rights of property are absolute and perpet-
ual, and other extremists who hold that
there can be no such thing as exclusive
property in ideas — just as there are tliose
who maintain that " all property is rob-
bery." Practical legislators may well as-
sume that these conflicting views cancel
each other, and may safely proceed to action
on the basis of broad experience and the
general agreement of nations.

LOCKYEB 02^ THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS.

Mr. Lookyee's paper before the
Eoyal Society on the compound nature
of some of the so-called elements from
the point of view of spectrum analysis
has attracted the attention properly
due to the eminence of the investigator
in the latter field, but chemists will be
slow to admit that the experimental as-
pect of the subject has been much al-
tered by Mr. Lockyer's investigations.
The a-priori grounds for believing that
the so-called elements are not elemen-
tary were already strong. In fact the
progress of chemistry had proved many
substances to be compound which were
previously ranked as elements, and left
the list of simple bodies to consist of
such only as have hitherto resisted
analysis. It has long been believed that

the relations among the atomic num-
bers furnish strong evidence of the
compound nature of many substances
classed as elementary; and spectrum
analysis has served greatly to heighten
this probability. When, a few years
ago, Dr. Martineau made an assault
upon the doctrine of evolution, one of
his objections to it was that the uni-
verse started a long way ahead on the
line of heterogeneity by its outfit of
chemical elements ; the implication be-
ing tliat these elements had to be sep-
arately created before evolution could
begin. To this, Herbert Spencer co-
gently replied that the elements are
not Tcnown to be elementary ; that no
intelligent cliemist holds them to be
absolutely so; and that many concur-
rent considerations compel the infer-
ence that they are compounded, and
perhaps recompounded of a few and
perhaps of a single primordial constit-
uent. The bearings of spectroscopic
research upon the question were thus
stated : " Spectrum analysis yields re-
sults wholly irreconcilable with the
assumption that the conventionally
named simple substances are really sim-
ple. Each yields a spectrum having
lines varying in number from two to
eight^^ or more, every one of which im-
plies the intercepting of ethereal un-
dulations of a certain order, by some-
thing oscillating in unison or in har-
mony with them. "Were iron absolutely
elementary, it is not conceivable that
its action could intercept ethereal un-
diilations of eighty diff'erent orders:
though it does not follow that its mol-
ecule contains as many separate atoms
as there are lines in the spectrum, it
must clearly be a complex molecule.
Still more clearly is this general im-
plication confirmed by facts furnished
by nitrogen, the spectrum of which
has two quite difi'erent sets of lines,
and changes from one set to the other
as the temperature is varied. The ev-
idence thus gained points to the con-
chision that, out of some primordial
units, the so-called elements arise, by

534

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

compounding and recompounding ; just
as by the compounding and recom-
pounding of so-called elements there
arise oxides and acids and salts."

Mr. Lockjer aims to enforce these
views by fresh i' lustrations. The fol-
lowing passages from an account of his
paper written for the " London Times,"
by a chemist who heard it, will give a
fair idea of its quality :

There are many facts and many trains of
thought suggested by solar and stellar phys-
ics which point to the hypothesis that the
elements themselves, or at all events some
of them, are compound bodies. Thus it
would appear that the hotter a star the more
simple IS its spectrum ; for the brightest,
and therefore probably the hottest stars,
such as Sirius, furnish spectra showing only
very thiclc hydrogen hnes and a few very
thin metallic hnes, characteristic of elements
of low atomic weight, while the cooler stars,
such as our sun, are shown by their spectra
to contain a much larger number of metallic
elements than stars such as Sirius, but no
non-metallic elements ; and the coolest
stars furnish fluted band-spectra character-
istic of compouuds of metallic with non-
metallic elements and of non-metallic ele-
ments. These facts appear to meet with a
simple explanation if it be supposed that as
the temperature increases the compounds
are first broken up into their constituent
'"elements," and that these "elements"
then undergo dissociation or decomposition
into "elements" of lower atomic weight.
Mr. Lockyer next considers what will be the
difference in the spectroscopic phenomena,
supposing that A contains B as an impurity
and as a constituent. In both cases A will
have a spectrum of its own. B, however, if
present as an impurity, will merely add its
lines according to the amount present, as we
have above explained ; whereas if a constit-
uent of A it will add its lines according to
the extent to which A is decomposed and B
is set at liberty. So that as the temperature
increases the spectnira of A will fade if A
be a compound body, whereas it will not
fade if A be a true element. Moreover, if
A be a compound body, the longest lines at
one temperature will not be the longest at
another. The paper chiefly deals with a
discussion from this point of view of the
spectrum of calcium, iron, hydrogen, and
lithium, as observed at various tempera-
tures ; and it is shown that precisely the
kind of change which is to be expected on
the hypothesis of the non-elementary char-

acter of the elements has been found to take
place. Thus each of the salts of calcium,
so long as the temperature is below a certain
point, has a definite spectrum of its own,
but as the temperature is raised the spec-
trum of the salt gradually dies out and very
fine lines due to the metal appear in the blue
and violet portions of the spectrum. At the
temperature of the electric arc the line in
the blue is of great intensity, the violet H
and K lines, as they are called, being still
thin ; in the sun the H and K lines are very
thick, and the line in the blue is of less in-
tensity than either, and much thinner than
in the arc. Lastly, Dr. Huggins's magnifi-
cent star photographs show that both the H
and K lines are present in the spectrum of
a. Aquilce, the latter' being, however, only
about half the breadth of the former ;
but that in the spectrum of o Lyrae
and Sirius, only the H line of calcium is
present. Similar evidence that these differ-
ent lines may represent difi"erent substances
appears to be afibrded by Professor Young's
spectroscopic observations of solar storms,
he having seen the H line injected into the
chromosphere Eevent3'-flve times, the K line
fifty times ; but the blue line, which is the
all-important line of calcium at the arc tem-
perature, was only injected thrice. In the
spectrum of iron two sets of three lines oc-
cur in the region between H and G, which
are highly characteristic of this metal. On
comparing photographs of the solar spec-
trum and of the spark taken between poles
of iron, the relative intensity of these trip-
lets is seen to be absolutely reversed ; the
lines barely visible in the spark photograph
being among the most prominent in that of
the solar spectrum, while the triplet, which
is prominent in the spark photograph, is rep-
resented by lines not half so thick in the so-
lar spectrum. Professor Young has observed
during solar storms two very faint hnes in
the iron spectrum near G injected thirty
times into the chromosphere, while one of
the lines of the triplet was only injected
twice. These facts, Mr. Lockyer contends,
at once meet with a simple explanation if it
be admitted that the lines are produced by
the vibration of several distinct molecules.

The lithium spectrum exhibits a series
of changes with a rise of temperature pre-
cisely analogous to those observed in the
case of calcium.

In discussing the hydrogen spectrum,
Mr. Lockyer adduces a number of most im-
portant and interesting facts and specula-
tions. It is pointed out that the most
refrangible line of hydrogen in the solar
spectrum, 7t, is only seen in laboratory ex-

LITERARY NOTICES.

535

periments when a very high temperature is
employed, and that it was absent from the
solar protuberances during the eclipse of
1875, although the other lines of hydrogen
were photographed. This line also is coin-
cident with the strongest line of indium as
already recorded by Thal^n, and may be
photographed by volatilizing indium in the
electric arc, whereas palladium charged with
hydrogen furnishes a photograph in which
none of the hydrogen lines ara visible. By
employing a very feeble spark at a very low
pressure the F line of hydrogen in the green
is obtained without the blue and red lines
which are seen when a stronger spark is
used, 80 that alterations undoubtedly take
place in the spectrum of hydrogen similar
to those observed in the case of calcium.
In concluding this portion of his paper Mr.
Lockyer states that he has obtained evidence
leading to the conclusion that the substance
giving the non reversed line in the chromo-
sphere, which has been termed helium^ and
not previously identified with any known
form of matter, and also the substance giv-
ing the 1,474 or coronal line, are reaJly other
forms of hydrogen, the one more simple
than that which gives the h line alone, the
other more complex than that which gives
the F line alone.

There can be no question that the facts
brought forward by Mr. Lockyer are of the
highest importance and value, and that they
will have much influence on the further de-
velopment of spectrum analysis, to which
he has already so largely contributed. But
his arguments are of a character so totally
different from those ordinarily dealt with by
chemists that they will hesitate for the pres-
ent to regard them as proof of the decom-
position of the elements until either they
are assured by competent physicists that
they can not be explained by any other
equally simple and probable hypothesis, or
until what Mr. Lockyer has foreshadowed
as taking place to such an extent in other
worlds has been realized beyond question
or cavil in our own laboratories.

LITERARY NOTICES.

TiiE Commonwealth reconstructed. By
Charles C. P. Clark, M. D. New York :
A. S. Barnes & Co. 1878. Pp. 216.
Price, §1.50.

This is a suggestive work on the phi-
losophy of American politics, made up of
two parts logically related but very dissimi-
lar in character. The first half of the book

is devoted to au examination of the tenden-
cies of our political system, which are ar-
raigned as, in their working, a disappoint-
ment and a failure. This portion of the
work is important, as giving a large amount
of information on the morbid anatomy and
the diseased functions of the. body politic.
The facts are interesting and copious, but
we regret that Dr. Clark has not guarded
himself here against criticism by the more
full and more careful citation of his authori-
ties. For example, when he says, "Since
1870 more judges have been impeached, or
have resigned to avoid impeachment, than in
all our history before," or when he says,
" The British Parliament, though it unites the
powers and functions of all our separate
State Legislatures and constitutional conven-
tions, and manages half a hundred colonies
and a fourth part of the population of the
earth, does not pass as many laws annually
as the State of New Jersey," we should like
to be informed of the exact data on which
these assertions rest. More care in this di-
rection would have given to Dr. Clark's work
a higher and more permanent value.

After pointing out, in his opening chap-
ters, the numerous indications of our politi-
cal degeneracy, the growing venality in pub-
lic life, the increase of official crime, the aug-
menting incompetency of public men, the
deeper corruption of parties, and the enor-
mous increase of taxes, resulting from scan-
dalous misgovernment — having, in fact,
made out a strong and dark indictment
against our political system. Dr. Clark then
takes up the various causes and remedies
that have been proposed for this bad state
of things. He thinks the fault is not to be
laid at the door of human nature, nor is the
democratic principle to be blamed. The
nation is not overgrown, our political evils
are not the " aftermath of the late civil war,"
and our diflBculties are chargeable neither to
the Democratic nor the Republican party.
They are such, moreover, as can not be rec-
tified and removed by any of the usual ex-
pedients of reform, such as constitutional
amendments, minority representation, cumu-
lative voting, female suffrage, outlawry of
the lobby, commissions of investigation, non-
partisan organizations, religion, moral ren-
ovation, education, or civil-service reform.
The writer goes rapidly over this field,
showing the weak places and the general

536

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

futility of these various remedial measures,
and sums up that there is no hope in themi
as follows :

But these and many other various explana-
tions and remedies for our evil case, thathave
been heretofore offered to the anxious inquiries
of the people, hardly deserve so much attention.
The explanations are incompetent and the rem-
edies nugatory. He who expects to see states-
manship aud fidelity to the public interests re-
stored in city. State, or nation by civil-service
reform, the restraint of special legislation, long
presidential terms or short; a nev/ settlement
of functions among aldermen, commissioners,
and mayors; the election or the appointment of
judges; closer investigations or severer punish-
ments ; an educational test, a religious test, or a
property test ; or any other the like petty and
partial devices, would expect to cure the yellow
fever by changing a man's shirt.

This is strongly put, but we are inclined
to think that the author is a good deal more
than half right.

Dr. Clark thus discredits all the nostrums
offered by the political doctors to cure the
diseases of the body politic ; but to what
end ? Not to confirm the conclusion, made
infinitely probable by his own sweeping logic,
that the case is not one to be cured by nos-
trums at all ; but, strange to say, the other
political medicine-men are dismissed, that
our doctor may try a new nostrum of his
own. His panacea may be effectual — it
has not been tried — but we are sorry to
note that it is put upon the usual quackish
ground at the outset. Every sovereign cure
assumes unity of cause in all diseases —
"all maladies come from impurity of the
blood, you know; here is something to pu-
rify the blood." Dr. Clark says, " The po-
litical rot in all the larger spheres of gov-
ernment is identical and pervading; it
must own some single cause as dominating
as gravity itself; and it must find a single
cure."

The true root of our pohtical difficulties
is assumed to be the present organization of
politics, represented chiefly by the caucus
system, the result of which is, that " at the
dictate of leaders whom we have not chosen,
we vote for candidates whom we do not know,
to discharge duiies that loe can not under-
stand." The remedy proposed is embodied in
the proposition that popular elections work
well in small and ill in large constituencies.
The general purity of town and village poli-
tics is contrasted with the general corrup

tion of municipal, State, and national poli-
tics, and the cause of this is alleged to be
that, in the former case, the citizen knows
who and what he is voting for, while in the
latter case he knows little or nothing of
either. There is therefore required a new
method of elections — a reconstruction of the
commonwealth by which the voter shall
commit to competent men, whom he knows,
the function of appointing all higher officials
in the larger spheres of political action.
The sovereign citizen is, in fact, to recog-
nize his incompetency to deal with general
politics, to abdicate his vote, on State and
national questions, and choose those whom
he thinks better able to do all this business
for him. Dr. Clark does not propose to
dispense with caucus and organization, but
that the people shall take them out of the
hands of the politician and operate them
themselves. He says :

The people must turn over the prerogative
of choosing Governors and Legislatures, now
nominally exercised at the ballot-box, to repre-
sentative delegates. In the business of all large
constituencies, the caucus and convention must
be substituted for the polls. Thus only can
the function of the voter be accommodated to his
Intelligence; and thus only, the shadow of power
discarded, can we secure its substance.

For the details of his plan, the interested
reader must be referred to Dr. Clark's work,
where they are fully elaborated. Looking
into it with some care, we have much the
same opinion of it that its author very
plainly expresses of other devices for the
renovation of our politics and the salvation
of the country. None the less we heartily
commend his book to political readers, who
will find much in it worthy of serious con-
sideration.

Researches into the Early History of
Mankind and the Development of
Civilization. By Edward B. Tylor,
D. C. L., LL. D., r. R. S. New York :
Henry Holt & Co. IS'ZS. Pp. 388.
Price, $3.50.

This volume consists of a series of some-
what miscellaneous essays bearing upon the
early history of man. In the view of the au-
thor, while there are great masses of mate-
rials already at hand for working out the
subject, the time for writing a systematic
treatise does not yet seem to have come.
For civilization, being a process of long and

LITERARY NOTICES.

537

complex growth, can only be tlioroughly
understood when studied through its entire
range ; as the past is continually needed to
explain the present, and the whole to ex-
plain a part. The matters here discussed
have been chosen, not so much for their
absolute importance as because, while they
are among the easiest and most inviting
parts of the subject, it is possible so to
work them as to bring into view certain
general lines of argument which apply not
only to them, but also to the more complex
and difficult problems involved in a com-
plete treatise on the history of civilization.

The book contains essays upon " Gesture
Language"; "Word Language"; "Pic-
ture-Writing and Word- Writing" ; " Images
and Names " ; " Growth and Decline of
Culture " ; " The Stone Age, Past and Pres-
ent " ; " Fire, Cooking, and Vessels " ;
"Some Remarkable Customs"; "Histori-
cal Traditions and Myths of Observation " ;
"Geographical Distribution of Myths " ; and
" Concluding Remarks." One or two ex-
tracts from the last chapter will give the
reader an idea of the spirit in which the
inquiry is pursued. The author says :

The facts collected seem to favor the view
that the wide differences in the civilization and
mental state of the various races of mankind
are rather differences of development than of
origin, rather of degree than of kind. . . . The
state of things which is foimd is not indeed that
one race does or knows exactly what another
race does or knows, but that similar stages of
development recur in different times and places.
There is reason to infer that our ancestors in
remote times made fire with a machine mnch
like that of the modern Esquimaux, and at a
far later date they used the bow and arrow, as
so many savage tribes do still. The foregoing
chapters, treating of the history of some early
arts, of the practice of sorcery, of curious cus-
toms and superstitions, are indeed full of in-
stances of the recurrence of like phenomena in
the remotest regions of the world. We might
reasonably expect that men of like minds, when
placed under widely different circumstances of
country, climate, vegetable and animal life, etc.,
should develop very various phenomena of civ-
ilization, and we even know by evidence that
they actually do so ; but, ueverthele«s, it slrik-
ingly illustrates the extent of mental uniform-
ity among mankind to notice that It is really
difficult to find among a list of twenty items of
art or knowledge, custom or snperstition, taken
at random from a description of any uncivilized
race, a single one to which something closely
analogous may not be found elsewhere among
some other race, unlike the first in physical
characters and living thousands of miles off.
VOL. XIT. — 35

It is taking a somewhat extreme case to put
the Australians to such a test, for they are, per-
haps, the most peculiar of the lower varieties
of man, yet, among the arts, beliels, and cus-
toms found among their tribes, there are com-
paratively few that can not be matched else-
where. They raise scars on their bodies like
African tribes; they circumcise like the Jews
and Arabs ; they bar marriage iu the female line
like the Iroquois; they drop out of their lan-
guage the names of piants and animals which
have been used as the personal names of dead
men and make new words to serve instead, like
the Abipones of South America ; they bewitch
their enemies with locks of hair ; and pretend
to cure the sick by sucking out stones through
their skin, as is done in so many other regions.
It is true that among their weapons they have
one of very marked peculiarity, the boomerang,
but the rest of their armory are but varieties of
instruments common elsewhere. They show
but few exceptions to the general rule that
whatever is found in one place in the world may
be matched more or less closely elsewhere.

The author believes that " the history
of mankind has been, on the whole, a his-
tory of progress." Some facts are quoted
which bear on the possible degeneracy of
savage tribes when driven out into the des-
ert, or otherwise reduced to destitution, or
losing their old arts in the presence of a
higher civilization ; but there seems ground
for thinking that such degeneration has
been rather of a local tnan of a general
character, and has affected the fortunes of
particular tribes rather than those of the
world at large.

Man PAL OF Intropuctort Chkmical Prac-
tice. For the Use of Students in Col-
leges and High-Schools. By George C.
Caldwell, S. B., Ph. D., and Abram A.
Brexeman, S. B., Chemical Professors in
Cornell University. Second edition, re-
vised and corrected. New York : D.
Van Nostrand. 1878. Price, $1.50,

Ix its earliest form this work consisted
of detached sheets for the use of students
of chemical practice. Corrected by trial,
they were published in book form two years
ago. We have now the second edition, in
which the authors, guided by their larger
experience, have been able better to adapt
the work to tlie average capacity of stu-
dents. Some experiments have been modi-
fied or rejected and others introduced, and
another section added to the introduction
for the help of teachers. The experiments
are chosen to illustrate principles, and in
the performance of the experiment the stu-

538

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

dent is left to observe and describe it and
trace its connection with the principle it
illustrates. In this work precision and con-
ciseness of statement are required, and the
reports are subjected to critical examination
by the teacher. With each copy of the
book there goes a separate slip stating how
much apparatus and chemicals are needed
for every ten students taking this course of
practice.

While in its main features the manual
is introductory to a more extended course,
it may still be used with profit by students
who have no time or opportunity for sub-
sequent study.

Lessons in Elementary Chemistry : Inor-
ganic and Organic. By Henry E. Ros-
COE, B. A., F. K. S., Professor of Chemis-
try in Owens College, Manchester. New
edition. New York : Macmillan & Co.,
1878. Price, $1.50.

This text-book, which was first published
in 1SR9, conforms to the metric system of
weights and measures, and the centigrade
thermometric scale. The most important
facts and principles of modern chemistry
are so presented as to give the pupil exac-
titude of knowledge, without which science
in schools is worthless. The work was re-
vised in 1875, and important changes were
made in the organic portion, while the whole
Dook was brought up to the level of the sci-
ence of the day. The present edition, among
other alterations and additions, adopts, for
the combining weights of the elements, num-
bers derived from Sta's accurate experi-
ments, oxygen being taken at 15'96 instead
of 16. In ordinary calculations, however,
the older numbers, for the sake of sim-
plicity, are still employed.

Christ's Words as related to I^^cience,
Law, Government, History, Philoso-
phy, Religion, and Universal Human
Experience. By Prof. J. B. Turner, of
Jacksonville, Illinois, author of " Three
Great Races of Men," " Essays on Me-
teorology," " Industrial Education," etc.
Springfield, Illinois : H. W. Rokker. Pp.
425. Price, $2.50.

This is an able and vigorous work by an
earnest believer in the religion of Christ,
the object of which is to cleave through the
body of dogmatic theology that has been
accumulating for centuries, and get at those

simple teachings that are embodied in the
words of the founder of the Christian faith.
" What is it that Christ really taught, and
that constitutes the essence of his religion ? "
is the problem that Prof. Turner puts before
him and undertakes to solve. The task he
has ventured upon opens a very broad field
of inquiry, embracing various departments
of knowledge. Prof. Turner does not claim
to be an expert in all these branches of
learning, but only to have considered them
with reference to one controlling idea — how
far they have been employed to obscure the
elementary inculcations of the Master. The
author is both a firm believer and a vehe-
ment doubter. He says he " does not believe
that all or most of the current ideas of either
religion or science, of philosophy, law, or
history, are true, or in accord with the teach-
ings of Christ. It will be forever impossi-
ble to harmonize such a medley of false as-
sumptions with each other or with the facts
of being, either natural or spiritual." It
being thus assumed as out of the question
to bring the chaotic schemes of belief into
reconciliation, the sincere Christian has no-
thing left but to find out for himself that
which is essential in his religion, and Prof.
Turner avows no other object than to aid
him in this work.

The author remarks : " What Christ actu-
ally said may be one thing; what the world
has been catechised < r thumb-screwed into
the belief that he said may be quite anoth-
er." How natural it is for the meanings
of Scripture to have been distorted in the
long ages of ignorance and prejudice, dur-
ing which they have been a matter of con-
flict, is well illustrated by Prof. Turner in
an example which everybody can under-
stand. He says: "If in half a century
our national Constitution, written in our
native tongue, consecrated to the broadest
liberty, could be perverted so that union,
fraternity, and justice, were synonymous
with the right of domination of white over
colored men; and if our Legislatures, our
courts, our army and navy, our literature,
schools, and churches, our very psalms and
prayers, could be marshaled and used for
the defense of one of the most infamous
forms of slavery the world has ever seen,
what may not have been done during the
ages of barbaric ignorance, with the records

LITERARY NOTICES.

539

of the Bible existing only in manuscript,
and written in dead Hebrew and Greek ? "

From Prof. Turner's chapter on " Miracle
and Prayer" we quote the following pas-
sao'es, which illustrate his view of that sub-
ject:

We have a cow that is, in her way, a great
philosopher, and somewhat of a diviae. She
has attained such adroitness that she can han-
dle all the hasps and latches, aud open all the
gates and barn-doors. She is clearly of the
opinion that whatever lies beyond her capacity
in that line must be miraculous; aud when we
take a key out of our pocket, and put it in a
padlock, and open a door that she has triea in
vaiu to open, she cocks her ears forward, opens
her eyes, and says as plaiuly as she cau : " Well,
now, that is clearly miraculous; a manifest inter-
ference with the laws of Nature." And this is
very good cow-philosophy and cow-theology; but
will it do foi-humau beings ? . . .

No one of the gospel narrators ever inti-
mates that Jesus's works were either a violation
or a suspension of, or even an interference with,
any law of Nature. All this is our own ''cow-
philosophy" and "cow-divinity." It neither
came from Christ nor his apostles. They spoke
of them as "signs'''' and '^wonders,''' '■^mighty
works " / as acts that were " significant,"
" strange aud unusual," and implying '• power."
In the only three ultimate forms of being or ex-
istence known to us, matter, force, aud spirit,
or voluntary being of some sort, the last is the
only one from which any new force or cause can
even seem to originate.

Prof. Turner writes with great vigor and
force, though we think with some verbal re-
dundancy, and is mainly intent upon making
himself understood. He is inclined to con-
sider that there is a good deal of credulity
on the part of scientific men, aud he is not
very mealy-mouthed in his statement of this
opinion. The following passage is evidently
for the benefit of Prof. Tyndall:

Contrast, now, the ontology, or scheme of
being and destiny, implied in all Christ's teach-
ings and works, with that implied in the dog-
matism of those scientists who find " all potency
in matter," boginnins with theiruniverse of star-
dust aud incandescent gas.without known cause,
solidifying itself into the solid worldfs. generat-
ing protoplasms, bioplasms, and cells, and even
correlated sexes, out of dead matter, with uo
supervising intelligence : the molten mass of
earth cooling down so slowly as to admit of ages
of tropical life at the poles; and anon for a^-es
taken with such a congestive chill that eternal
ice and glaciers shrouded it quite down to the
tropics; then a fever set in again, and it warmed
up to ils present condition, full of literal hell-
fire within, eternally belchine forth in all its vol-
canoes—all living things made out of the same
original protoplasms, more handy to the mod-

em scientist than was the dust of the earth, or
Adam's extra rib, to the old Jews, but made
without any maker. All things at last, in pro-
phetic vision, to turn to ice at;ain ; all being,
even the sun himself, is to freeze to death; a
universe of being born without God, boru at
first of hell-fire, nursed on protoplasm without
any nurse, and consigned at last to eternal death
by frost, with still no God to breathe the breath
of life into it forever more ; or it may take a no-
lion to explode again into ^as and star-dust, to
run its perpetual rounds, with alternate creations
by hell-fire and damnations by irost, through all
eternity to cornel What an origin 1 What a
destiny 1 What logic ! What shocliiug assump-
tion at every step ! aud what infinite dogmatism
in every conclusion 1 What aimless and sense-
less credulity! Jonah and his whale, Joshua
and his sun, Noah aud his ark, Moses with all
his snakes, and frogs, and lice, and murrains,
and deaths, are totally eclipsed by these modern
dealers in scientific miracles.

The American Quarterly Microscopical
Journal. Edited by Romyn Hitchcock,
Devoted to the Interests of Microscopi-
cal Study in all Branches of Science;
with which is also published the Trans-
actions of the New York Microscopical
Society. Vol. I., No. 1. Published by
Hitchcock & Wall, 150 Nassau Street,
New York. Piice -$3 a year, or 75 cents
per copy.

This is a compact, neatly printed, and
beautifully illustrated journal of 96 pages,
intended as an aid to professional and ama-
teur microscopists in the promotion and
diffusion of the results of research. Of the
microscope and the functions of a micro-
scopical journal the editor says :

To the student of natural science the micro-
scope is, and always will be, a mere tool. Mi-
croscopy, as a special science, has very little
claim for existence. In so far as a certain famil-
iarity with the instrument and training in the
proper management of the light and accessories
are necessary to enable one to use the instru-
ment, it may be called a science. We would de-
tract nothing from the merits of those who are
expert in securing the most perfect performance
of an objective. Still, as a matter cf fact, aud
plain fiicts should not give offense to any one,
we must admit that the great value of the micro-
scope as a means of investigation lies in [the
aid it gives to almost every branch of science.
This leads us to a statement of what, in our
opinion, a microscopical journal should he.
Eecognizing the value of microscopical study
in the various branches of natural science, such
a journal should aim to publish the results of re-
search carried on witi! the microscope in every
department.

Accordingly, besides articles relating to
the structure and improvement of the mi-

54°

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

croscope itself, we find in tlie first number
the science of zoology represented by pa-
pers on " The Sting of the Houey-Bee," and
" On the Structure of Blood-Corpuscles" ;
botany by " Descriptions of New Species of
Diatoms," aud " On the Spore-Formation of
the Mesocarpese " ; the arts, by " The Micro-
scopical Examination of the Fibres " ; and
in the next number we are promised among
others an article on microscopical geology,
and a study of a case of tubercular menin-
gitis ; while the subject of foods will receive
attention in a paper on the microscopical
characters of natural and artificial butter.
From this enumeration it will be seen that
the editor intends to cover a wide range of
topics ; and, while probably in the majority
of cases the discussions will be more or less
technical, many of them will also possess
both popular and practical interest. The
projectors of the enterprise are entitled to
great credit, not only for the handsome
magazine they have made, but for their
courage in entering a field already the
scene of many failures, and we would ask
for them, not the sympathy, but the cor-
dial support, of all who are interested in
the progress of science.

Science News. Edited by Ernest Inger-
SOLL and William C. Wickoff, of New
York, and published fortnightly by S. E.
Cassino, Salem, Mass. Subscription price,
$2 a year.

The main object of this new periodical,
as indicated by its title and expressly an-
nounced in the prospectus, is the prompt
publication of scientific news, and, judging
from the four numbers received, the editors
are fulfilling their promise in a very satis-
factory way. Each number is to contain
not less than sixteen pages of matter, ex-
clusive of advertisements, freely illustrated
and presented in a style that may be readily
understood by the average reader. The type
is good, the price is reasonable, the editors
are wide awake, and, with the advantages
of thorough scientific training and long pre-
vious experience on scientific journals, are
well adapted to the work — conditions cer-
tainly favorable to the production of a good
magazine. Yet in one respect we think the
new journal might be improved. There is
news enough of a scientific character, and
of both special and general interest, to more

than fill such a periodical, even if it con-
tained double the present number of pages,
and to our minds this, in the form of para-
graphs as brief as an intelligible statement
will permit, might be profitably substituted
for the more elaborate essays which now
occupy the earher pages of the periodical.

Third Annual Report of the Johns Hop-
kins University. Baltimore: Murphy
print, IS'ZS. Pp. 60.

Mr. D. C. Oilman, President of the
Johns Hopkins University, in this report,
strives to draw the line of distinction be-
tween the college and the tiniversity. The
university is designed to give to those who
have already received a college training or
its equivalent more advanced and special
instruction. To this end it must possess
ample libraries, laboratories, and apparatus.
Then, the holders of professorial chairs in
a university must be expected and encour-
aged to advance by positive research the
sciences to which they are devoted. For
though, primarily, instruction is the duty
of the professor in a university, as it is in a
college, the difference of intellectual maturi-
ty between the students of the two institu-
tions involves a difference in the respective
demands of each upon the professor : uni-
versity students should be so mature as to
exact from their teachers the most advanced
instruction, and even to quicken and inspire
by their appreciative responses the new in-
vestigations which their professors under-
take. An interesting feature of this report
is a statement by Professor Ira Remsen, of
the nature of the work done in the three
scientific laboratories which form part of
the Johns Hopkins University — viz., the bio-
logical laboratory, the physical laboratory,
and the chemical laboratory.

Notes on a Collection from the Ancient
Cemetery of Chacota Bay, Peru. By
J. H. Blake. With Illustrations. From
" Report of Peabody Museum of Archae-
ology and Ethnology," 18'78. Pp. 28.
The interesting collection here partly
described comprises mummies, utensils,
weapons, ornaments, etc. What race of
people it was that buried their dead in this
ancient cemetery it is impossible even to
conjecture. The present Indian inhabitants
of the locality claim no relationship with
them.

LITERARY NOTICES.

541

The Telegraph in America : Its Founders,
Promoters and Noted Men. By James
D. Reid. New York : Derby Brothers.
1879. Pp. 850. Price, cloth, $G.

When in June, ISYl, a strong repre-
sentation of the telegraph interest in Amer-
ica was assembled in New York City to
attend the ceremony of unveiling the statue
of Professor S. F. B. Morse, in the Central
Park, an earnest desire was expressed by
many to have the occasion and the man
appropriately commemorated in a volume.
The task of composing this memorial vol-
ume was imposed upon Mr. Reid, and the
completed work is now published : but in-
stead of its being simply a monument to
the memory of Professor Morse, the work
has been expanded to the proportions of a
history of telegraphy in America.

In accordance with the original inten-
tion of the author, the volume contains a
pretty full biography of Professor Morse,
with an account of the progress of electri-
cal science down to the year 1832, when he
first conceived his idea of a recording elec-
trical telegraph. Mr. Reid was an intimate
friend of Morse, and reverently cherishes
his memory ; but in writing this account of
his friend's researches and inventions, he
exhibits no desire to slur the merits or to
belittle the labors of other workers in the
same field. The story of Morse's invention
of the recording telegraph is told without
rhetorical embellishment, but with the ef-
fectiveness of simple narrative. It was in
the early part of October, 1832, and Morse
was crossing the Atlantic on his way home
from Europe, whither he had gone some
three years before, to study the works of
the great painters, for he was an artist be-
fore he turned his attention to telegraphy.
One of his fellow travelers was Dr. Charles
T. Jackson, of Boston, then profoundly
interested in electro-magnetism, to which
his attention had been directed by certain
lectures which he had heard in Paris. In
conversation with Morse he described in
particular Ampere's brilliant experiments
with the electro-magnet.

" The subject," writes Mr, Reid, " at
once excited very general interest, into
which Mr. Morse entered with awakened
enthusiasm. Hitherto he had felt no other
interest in electrical matters than that of
a lively and excited curiosity. His early

studies now enabled him to enter into the
conversation with intelligent earnestness.
Dr. Jackson had in his trunk, in the hold of
the vessel, an electro-magnet, which he de-
scribed, and during the conversation alluded
to the length of wire in the coils. This led
one of the company to inquire 'if the
velocity of the electricity was retarded by
the length of the wire.' A very pregnant
thought lay in that inquiry, and the conver-
sation became earnest and practical. Dr.
Jackson replied that electricity passed in-
stantaneously over any known length of
wire. At this point Mr. Morse remarked,
' If the presence of electricity can be made
visible in any part of the circuit, I see no
reason why intelligence may not be trans-
mitted instantaneously by electricity.' "

The author has had access to the artist's
sketch-book, in which Morse at the time
jotted down his alphabet scheme, and drew
designs of various pieces of apparatus.
These are reproduced in Mr. Reid's volume,
and thus the reader is enabled to sec Morse's
system of telegraphy in its germ, so to
speak. The author follows his own account
of the " Birth of the Recording Telegraph,"
with the history of the invention composed
by Morse himself in 1868, on the occasion
of the International Exposition at Paris.

This " Morse Memorial " occupies the
first one hundred pages of Mr. Reid's vol-
ume ; the remainder is devoted to the " His-
tory of the Telegraph in America." The
plan of this second part is an unfortunate
one, comprising sketches of the rise and
development of the dilTerent telegraph
companies, with notices of their founders
and promoters. This arrangement neces-
sarily makes the work a congeries of mu-
tually independent memoirs, each one val-
uable indeed in itself, but the effect of the
whole must be to w^eary and confuse the
reader's mind. Nevertheless, the work is
one possessing permanent value, not as a
"History," but rather as a collection of
memoires pour servir — of authentic ma-
terials which the philosophical historian
will later digest and coordinate. It is safe
to say that no future historian of the tele-
graph can afford to overlook the work done
by Mr. Reid.

The book, in its mechanical execution,
leaves nothing to be desired. It contains
portraits, some in steel plate, others in

542

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

wood engraving, of many men of note con-
nected with telegraphy in America, whether
as inventors or as administrators.

Walks in London. By Augustus J. C.
Hare. 2 vols, in one. New York : Rout-
ledge & Sons. 1878. Pp. 1,020.

" In these volumes," writes the author
in the preface, " I believe all the objects of
interest in London are described consecu-
tively as they may be visited in excursions,
taking Cliaring Cross as a center. The first
volume is chiefly devoted to the city, the
second to the West End and Westminster.
. . . While endeavoring to make ' Walks in
London ' something more interesting than a
•guide-book, I have tried, especially in West-
minster Abbey and the picture-galleries, to
give such details as may suggest new lines
of inquiry to those who care to linger and
investigate."

Science Observer (Monthly). Volume IL,
No. 3. Boston : Amateur Scientific So-
ciety. Post- Office Box 2,725. Pp.8.
Subscription, 50 cents per year.

We observe with pleasure the continued
success of this very meritorious little peri-
odical. It appears to be particularly strong
in the department of astronomy. The pres-
ent number, for instance, has an elaborate
article on " The Tides." This is the " lead-
ing article " of the number. The minor
articles are on " The August Lyriads,"
"Mira Ceti," "Sun Spots," "The Intra-
Mercurial Planet " ; finally, we have " Ephe-
merides of Variable Stars."

Survey of the Northern and Northwest-
ern Lakes and the Mississippi River,
in charge of C. B. Comstock, Major of
Engineers, and II. M. Adams, Captain
of Engineers. With Charts. Washing-
ton : Government Priniiug-Oifice. 1877.
Pp. 100,

The work of this survey, during the year
ending June 1, 1877, may be thus summed
up : On Lake Erie the triangulation has
been carried from Westfield, New York, to
near Painesville, Ohio ; the topography and
hydrography have been carried from Ash-
tabula, Ohio, to Vermilion, Ohio ; the lati-
tudes and longitudes of sundry points have
been determined ; a line of levels has been I
run between Escanaba and Marquette, to
determine the difference of levels between

Lakes Michigan and Superior ; four charts
of Lake Michigan, one of the St. Lawrence,
and one of the Detroit River have been
completed ; the survey of the Mississippi
has been carried from five miles above
Cairo to a point eight miles above Colum-
bus, Kentucky.

Geoiogical and Natural History Survey
OF Minnesota (1877). Whh Maps.
MinneapoUs : Johnson, Smith & HaiTi-
son print. Pp. 225.

The first work undertaken by the officers
connected with the Minnesota survey in the
year 1877 was an attempt, and a successful
one, to ascertain the causes of the foulness
of the water in wells throughout the Red
River Valley. It appears that, owing to the
scarcity of building-stone in the valley, pine
planks are used for curbing the wells, and
to this cause is to be attributed the bad
quality of the water, which in itself contains
nothing that is unwholesome. Professor
Winchell, State Geologist, with his asso-
ciates, next examined localities in Wright
County, where coal had been supposed to
exist. At no point were Cretaceous beds
seen in situ, though possibly they might be
struck below the drift, in sinking a shaft.
Preliminary reconnaissances were made into
the counties of Goodhue and Morrison. The
surveys of the following counties were com-
pleted, viz., Hennepin, Rock, Pipestone,
and Rice.

The Minerals, Ores, Rocks, and Fossils
IN the Pacific Coast Exhibit at the
Paris Exposition of 1878. San Fran-
cisco : Bosqui & Co. print. 1878. Pp.
99.

We have here a catalogue of the collec-
tion named above, preceded by an Introduc-
tion on the mineral resources of the Pacific
States.

The Indian Question. Address by Gen-
eral Pope. Pp. 31.

The author proposes to locate reserva-
tions for Indians far in the rear of advan-
cing emigration, in populous, well-ordered
districts, where no hostility to the Indian is
felt. Thus surrounded by good influences,
the Indian might, the author thinks, become
civilized, and perhaps eventually absorbed
by the superior race.

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

543

PUBLICATIONS RECEI^^;D.

Cooking-School Text-Book. By Juliet Cor-
son. New York : Orauge Judd Co. Pp. 240.

Outline of General Geoloij'. By Theo. B.
Comstock. Ithaca, New York : University Press.
Pp. ^i.

Coal : its History and Uses. Edited by Pro-
fessor Thorpe. Loudon : Mactuilian & Co. 18T8.
Pp. 3130. $4.

Red Ea^le. By G. C. Eggleaton. New York:
Dodd, Mead & Co. 1878. Pp. 346.

Elements of Comparative Anatomy. By Carl
Gegenbaur. Loudon: MacmiUan & Co. Is78.
Ppr645. $7.

The Bride of Gettysburg. By J. D. Hylton.
Palmyra, New Jersey. ls7S. Pp.172.

The Rei^n of God not " the Reign of Law."
By Thomas'Scott Bacou. Baltimore: Turuball
Brothers. 1878. Pp.400. $1.50.

Political Economy. By William Roscher.
New York : Holt & Co. 1873. Two vols., pp.
461 and 455. $7.

The Labor Side of the Great Sugar Question.
New York. 1878. Pp. 30.

Researches in Telephony. By Professor Dol-
b^ar. From " Prooeediugs of the American
Academy of Science and Arts.''^ Pp. 15.

Report on Life-Saving Apparatus. By Lieu-
tenant D. A. Lyle, of the Orduaiice Department.
Washington: Government Printing-Offlce. 1878.
Pp. 100,'vith numerous Plates.

The Temoeraments. By Dr. D. H. Jacques.
New York : S. R. Wells. Pp. 239. S1.50.

Tran^^mission of Power by Compressed Air.
Bv R. Zahner. Now York : Van xVostraud. Pp.
133. 50 cents.

Mansill's Almanac of Planetary Meteorology
for 1S79. Rack Island, Illinois : R. Crampton.
Pp. 52. 50 cents.

Bulletin of the United States Geological and
Geographical Survey of the Territories. Vol. IV.,
No-i.2. 3,4. Washington: Government Printing-
Offlce. 1878.

Bulletin of the United States National Mnse-
nm. Nos. 10 and 12. Washington : Government
Printing-Offlje.

Bibliography of North American Invertebrate
Paleontology. Pp. 119. Catalosrue of Photo-
graphs of Indians. Pp.122. Washington : Gov-
ernment Printing-Offlce.

Birds of the Colorado Vallev. Bv Elliott
Coues. Washington : Governaient Printing-
Offlce. Pp. 8i2.

Drift from York Harbor. Bv G. Hou'^hton.
Boston : A. Williams & Co. 1R79. Pp. 48.

Total Abstinence. By Dr. B. W. Richardson.
London: Macmillan & Co. Pp 110.

Handbook of Alabama. By S. Bcmey. Pp.
33S, with Map. Paper, $1..50.

Noxious and Beneficial Insects of Illinois
By Dr. C. Tliomas. Springflell, Illinois: Lusk
print. Pp. 290.

Reptiles and Barracbiai" of Ciliforaia. etc.
By Dr. H. C. Yarrow. Pp. 23. Marine Fishes.
By the same author. Pp. 7. Washington : Gov-
ernment Printing-Offlce.

Physiology of the Spermatozoa. Bv Dr. S.
S. Herrick. Pp. 7.

Text-Books and Mf^thods of Instruction in
English. By J. M. Garneft. ("Educational
Journal of Virginia."') Pp.20.

Almanac for U«e of Navigators for the Year
1879. Washington : Bureau of Navigation. Pp.
259. 50 cents.

Difficult Labor. By Dr. E. M. Hale. Pp. 91.

Native Wild Flowers anrl Ferns. By Thomas
Meehan. Parts 13, 14, 15, 16. Boston : Prang &
Co.

POPULAR MISCELLAKY.

Reorganization of the Government Sur-
yeys. — We have alreadj' briefly stated the
conclusions reached by the Committee of tlie
National Academy of Sciences, appointed to
consider what changes might be desired in
the method of conducting the surveys of the
Territories. We have since received an
official copy of the Committee's report, and
consider its subject matter of sufficient im-
portance to justify a fuller abstract. The
Committee interpreted the act of Congress
directing their inquiry as applying only to
surveys of the public domain, and hence did
not take mto consideration surveys or in-
vestigations which have for their objective
point engineering works : such surveys, in
the judgment of the Committee, should be
conducted by the engineer corps of the
army. The surveys which, in their opin-
ion, were intended by the act to be inquired
into were those popularly known as Wheel-
er's, Hayden's, Powell's, and the Land Sur-
veys under the supervision of the Land-Of-
fice. Besides these, though not enumerated
in the law, there is the Coast and Geodetic
Survey. All the work done by these differ-
ent corps may be classed under two heads :
1. Surveys of mensuration ; 2. Surveys of
geology and economic resources of the soil.
The surveys of mensuration are at pres-
ent conducted by five independent organiza-
tions, already named. There is no coordi-
nation between these five surveys, and their
results show many contradictions. The
geographical work of Wheeler's, or Hay-
den's, or Powell's survey is of little value
for the parceling of land, while the land
surveys are of correspondingly slight topo-
graphical and geographical value. The
opinion of the Committee is, that " the Coast
and Geodetic Survey is practically best pre-
pared to execute the entire mensuration sys-
tem required." But the Committee recom-
mend that this survey be transferred from
the Treasury to the Department of the In-
terior, and that in addition to it? original
field of work it should also assume the en-
tire mensuration of the public domain.

The Geological Survey should have a sep-
arate organization. " To meet the require-
ments of existing laws in the disposition of
the agricultural, mineral, pastoral, timber,

544

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

desert, and swamp lands, a thorough inves-
tigation and classification of acreage of the
public domain are imperatively demanded.
The Committee, therefore, recommends that
Congress establish, under the Department
of the Interior, an independent organization
to be known as the United States Geological
Survey, to be charged with the study of the
geological structure and economic resources
of the public domain." And the Committee
recommends a discontinuance of the present
Geographical and Geological Surveys and
the present Land Surveys. " The effect of
the above changes," says the Committee,
"will be to maintain within the Interior
Department three distinct organizatians : 1.
The Coast and Interior Survey, whose func-
tion will embrace all questions of position
and mensuration ; 2. The United States
Geological Survey, whose function will be
the determination of all questions relating
to the geological structure and natural re-
sources of the public domain ; 3. The Land-
Office, controlling the disposition and sale
of the public lands, including all questions
of title and record. With this division
should be secured a perfect coordination
and cooperation between the three branches.
The Land-Office should call upon the Coast
and Interior Survey for all surveys and
measurements required for the sale and dis-
position of land. The Land-Office should
also call upca the United States Geological
Survey for all information as to the value
and classification of lands. The results of
all the mensuration surveys, as soon as com-
pleted, should be immediately available for
the Land-Office and for the Geological Sur-
vey, and for other branches of the Govern-
ment as required. The Geological Survey
should be authorized to execute local topo-
graphical surveys for special purposes, such,
for instance, as the subterraneous surveys of
mining districts and metallic deposits, etc."

Hnxley on tlic Hand.— Professor Hux/ey
chose for the subject of a recent lecture at
the Workingmen's College, of which he is
President, the human hand. He looked on
the hand as not second in importance even
to the brain itself. He pointed out the
great diversity of operations for which man
is dependent on the hand, and observed how
it performs all its important functions by

virtue of certain very simple facts in its
form of construction. He referred to that
famous work, Paley's " Natural Theology,"
and the argument which it enforces — that
if a person were to find the whole machin-
ery of a watch he must needs infer from the
works of it that it must have been intended
to serve a certain purpose. But Professor
Huxley pointed out that, whatever the force
of the argument of analogy in the case of
the hand, it most assuredly does not apply
in the sense in which it was used by Paley,
because it can easily be shown that a man's
hand was not put together in that way, but
that it came about in quite a different man-
ner. It was not a process in any way anal-
ogous to human means of construction, be-
ing, in fact, as different from the latter as
the taking of a piece of iron and making it
into an engine differs from taking it and let-
ting it grow to an engine. This difference,
he remarked, is highly important, as show-
ing the danger of arguing from mere anal-
ogy— it shows that Paley's argument is not
consonant with fact. Paley could not con-
ceive that so complicated a structure as the
human frame might, as a matter of fact, be
developed or evolved by a purely natural
operation.

Vehicles of Malaria. — Ague is commonly
supposed to be due to the entrance into the
system of a miasmatic organism. But no
microscopist has ever seen this organism,
neither can we account for the intermit-
tency of the ague-paroxysms, nor can we
say for certain through what medium it
finds an entrance into the system. The
majority of writers hold the opinion that
tlte air of marshes is the sole cause of in-
termittent fever. But there exists strong
evidence going to show that water, too, is a
carrier of the poison. Take, for instance, two
or three cases cited in the " Lancet " ; and,
first, the case recorded by Boudin, of three
vessels sailing from Algiers to Marseilles,
conveying eight hundred soldiers, who on
shore had all been exposed to the same at-
mospheric conditions. Two of these vessels
were supplied with good water, but the
third with water from a marsh. The two
former arrived at Marseilles without a sick
man, but the third ship lost thirteen men,
and had one hundred and twenty sick, nine-

P OP ULAR MIS CELL ANY

545

ty-eigbt of whom were affected with malaria.
Again, there is the outbreak of ague at Til-
bury Fort in 1872, cited in Parkes's "Hy-
giene," where thirty-four men out of a gar-
rison of one hundred and three were seized
with ague, while the people at the railway
station and the coast-guard men and their
families just outside the fort entirely es-
caped. The troops had been supplied with
water stored in tanks, collected from the
rain-water of the roofs, while the people
outside obtained theirs from a spring, the
atmospheric conditions in both cases being
identical.

The Werdermann Electric Li}?Iit. — Mr.

Edison's announcement of his success in
solving the problem of adapting the electric
light to domestic purposes has had the ef-
fect of bringing into public view a number
of other contrivances for producing the same
result. Among these, Werdermann's system
appears to be perhaps the most promising ;
the following account of it we take from
" Nature " : "' The principle of Werdermann's
invention is that of keeping a small vertical
pencil of carbon in contact with a large disk
of the same material. In some earlier ex-
periments he found that when he increased
the sectional area of one carbon and reduced
that of the other he produced an electrical
light with the carbons in actual contapt, a
small arc appearing at the contact-point.
The small carbon is a pencil three millime-
tres in diameter ; the upper or negative
carbon is a disk of two inches in diameter
and an inch thick. The upper carbon is
not consumed, so that the waste takes place
only in the lower. In his lamp he places
the disk uppermost with the pencil vertical-
ly beneath it, sliding up a metal tube which
acts as a guide and contact. The pencil is
kept in contact with the disk by means of
chains attached to its lower extremity, pass-
ing over pulleys and down again to a coun-
terweight of about one and a half pound.
About three quarters of an inch of the lower
carbon appears above the tube and is ren-
dered incandescent by the passage of the
current between it and the disk. This pen-
cil is pointed, and retains its point all the
time of burning. It is between this point
and the disk that the small electric arc ap-
pears which gives the greater part of the

light. In an exhibition of the system, ten
lamps were shown in one circuit. The in-
ventor believes that after further experi-
ments he will be able to divide the current
into fifty, one hundred, or even five hundred
lights. Each lamp can be lighted and ex-
tinguished separately without affecting the
others."

Dangers of Moldy Broad. — A singular
case of poisoning from eating a pudding
made in part of moldy bread is reported
in the " Sanitai'y Record." The main facts of
the case may be briefly stated as follows :
The principal materials of the pudding con-
sisted of scraps of bread left from making
toast and sandwiches, and they had been
about three weeks accumulating. To these
scraps were added milk, eggs, sugar, cur-
rants, and nutmeg. The whole was baked
in a very slow oven, and was subsequently
eaten by the cook, the proprietor of the
eating-house in which it was prepared, the
children of the proprietor, and two other
persons. All of these became violently ill,
with symptoms of irritant poisoning. One
of the children (aged three years) and one
of the adults died. The necropsy of the
body of the child caused the medical men
to suspect poisoning, and accordingly the
viscera, together with the remnant of the
pudding, the materials used in making it, the
matter vomited, etc., were sent to a chemi-
cal analyst, Mr. Alfred Allen, for exami-
nation. He made tests for several poisons,
but without positive result. A puppy was
fed with the pudding for two days without
any poisonous effect. He was then led to
look for ergot in the pudding, and was soon
startled to find unquestionable evidence of
its presence, as far as the chemical reactions
went, though he was unable, with the aid of
the microscope, to detect any actual ergot.
From these facts Mr. Allen infers that the
reactions hitherto supposed to be peculiar
to ergot are common to other poisonous
fungi.

Steering of Ocean-Steamers. — Among the
reports of committees to the British Asso-
ciation at Dublin was one on the steering
of screw-steamers. This report declares it
to be an invariable rule that, during the in-
terval in which a ship is stopping herself by

546

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reversal of her screw, the rudder produces
none of its usual effects to turn the ship.
In fact, under these circumstances, the ef-
fect of the rudder is to turn the ship in the
opposite direction from that in which she
would turn if the screw were driving her
ahead. A ship with screw reversed requires,
in order to turn a circle, double the radius
of that required while steaming ahead ; and,
if it is difficult to govern her direction, it is
more difficult to predict what that direction
will be. When moving at full speed a screw-
steamer requires five lengths more or less in
which to stop herself, whereas by using her
rudder and steaming on at full speed ahead
she would be able to turn herself through
a quadrant without having advanced five
lengths in her original direction. Moral :
When collision is imminent, steam ahead
and be quick with the rudder. But, owing
to the imperfection of the steering-appa-
ratus now generally employed, quickness is
impossible, and it takes a long time to put
a large angle on the rudder. "The result
is" (so say the Committee) "that it is often
one or two minutes after the order is heard
by the men at the wheel before there is any
large angle on the rudder, and of course,
under these circumstances, it is absurd to
talk of making use of the turning qualities
of a ship in case of emergency. The pow-
er available to turn the rudder should be
proportional to the tonnage of the vessel,
and there is no mechanical reason why the
rudder of the largest vessel should not be
brought hard over in less than fifteen sec-
onds from the time the order is given. Had
those in charge of steamships efficient control
over their rudders, it is probable that much
less would be heard of the reversing of the
engines in cases of imminent danger." Clear-
ly this is a question which calls imperative,
ly for regulation by the Admiralty or some
other competent authority.

The Candle-Fisli. — The eulachon, or can-
dle-fish ( TJialeichthys pacificus), an inhabitant
of the Pacific Ocean in the vicinity of Brit-
ish Columbia and northward, is worthy of
a place among the curiosities of the animal
kingdom. It is a small fish — about fourteen
inches in length — and in appearance resem-
bles a smelt. It is the fattest of all known
fishes ; and, in fact, the Indians use it, in

the dried state, as a candle. On touching
the tail to the fire it burns with a bright
flame till the whole is consumed ; more
usually, however, a wick of woody fiber is
passed through the body of the fish from
end to end to insure continuous combustion.
But the candle-fish is also employed as an
article of food, and in spite of its fatness —
indeed, on account of its fatness — is highly
esteemed by the Indians as a warming food
for winter. For this purpose they are dried
and smoked in the spring, and then packed
away. So preserved they are eaten whole,
or the oil is tried out and eaten as butter.
The take is usually very large, and only a
small portion is dried and smoked. The
remainder are piled in heaps till partial de-
composition has set in ; they are then packed
in large boxes and the oil pressed out. This
oil also is used as food, and it is said to be
not altogether intolerable to the stomach of
civilized man. The appearance of the first
shoal of candle-fish in March is greeted by
the Indians with extravagant demonstraticna
of joy. It is their Easter.

Tlie Storage and Pnrififation of Water.

— In one of a series of papers on " Water-
Supply for Small Towns," now publishing in
"The Plumber and Sanitary Engineer," Mr.
E. S. Philbrickhas some remarks on the best
material for constructing cisterns. He gives
the preference to brick, as being sufficiently
durable, and at the same time cheap. As
brickwork is not adapted to resist tensile
strains, brick cisterns, if of any considerable
size, can not withstand water-pressure, by
the strength of walls alone. So we put them
underground, getting the earth -pressure
from without to balauce the water-pressure
from within, and at the same time protect
them from frost. The circular form gener-
ally used is strong enough in itself to resist
the earth-pressure when the tank is empty,
for this is a compressive force. The ex-
tended application of hydraulic cement thus
enables us to construct, in almost any part
of the world where commercial relations ex-
ist, an imperishable and incorruptible water-
tank, so far as its own materials go.

But cistern-water will always be more or
less contaminated by the accumulation of
dust swept down from the roof Hence a
cistern should be thoroughly cleaned from

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

547

time to time as occasion may require. Every
cistern intended to hold water for drinking
should have a filter. For this pur])ose a
chamber can be parted off on one side the
cistern, within which the suction-pipe takes
the water for use, and the filtering material
placed so as to pass the water through holes
in this partition. Sometimes soft or half-
burned bricks are used for this partition,
through the pores of which the water passes
freely, if suflScient surface be used. If, how-
ever, it be desired to remove any dissolved
impurities from the water, these mechanical
filters, whether brick, gravel, sand, or sponge,
are useless, and recourse must be had to a
charcoal or spongy iron filter, which acts
chemically upon various substances in solu-
tion, burning them up, as it were, by the
oxygen within the filter.

These filters, however, require such fre-
quent cleansing for the renewal of their effi-
ciency, that they can only be used eff'ective-
ly in a portable form, and cannot therefore
be built into the tank.

Prodnets of Coal -Gas Combustion. —

From a lecture by Mr. Thomas Mills, before
the British Association of Gas Managers, we
take the following remarks on the products
of combustion of coal-gas : " Of such gas,
supposing its specific gravity to be '5, or
half that of air, a cubic foot contains about
half its own weight of carbon ; and, if this
cubic foot of gas be burned, it will give a
little more than half a cubic foot of carbonic
acid, or, in weight, 488 grains. Again, a
cubic foot of coal-gas, of "5 specific gravity,
contains about 41 grains of hydrogen, and
this hydrogen in burning will produce 372
grains of water. If we regard the quantity
of air necessary to supply the requisite
quantity of oxygen to a cubic foot of gas,
it lies between five and six feet of air. For
every cubic foot of gas burned we require
the oxygen of between five and six cubic
feet of air, and this will give half a cubic
foot of carbonic acid as a result. When
we come to estimate the total products of
gas-combustion in such a place as London,
the figures are really startling. The quan-
tity of gas consumed in London annually
may be taken approximately at about 15,-
000,000 cubic feet. The amount of car-
bonic acid given off during a year by the

combustion of these 15,000,000 of cubic
feet is 433,000 tons. The amount of water
produced by the combustion of this quan-
tity of coal-gas is 360,000 tons, or 80,000,-
000 gallons. One of the largest, if not the
largest gasholder-tanks in Loudon, is at the
Phoenix Works at Kennington. That gas-
holder-tank, supposing it had no internal
cone, and were perfectly flat at the bottom,
would hold 10,000,000 gallons of water, if
filled to the brim. You might empty that
tank and fill it eight times over in a year
with the water produced by the burning
of the coal-gas consumed in the metropolis
during that time."

How the Pengnin rears its Yonng. — In

the southern part of the Indian Ocean —
about latitude 40° south, longitude 80° east,
or about half-way between Africa and Aus-
tralia— are the two islands, St. Paul and
Amsterdam, both of recent volcanic oi-igin,
and both the favorite resort of the albatross.
But they are most of all remarkable for the
number of penguins which have here their
permanent residence. According to a writ-
er in Chambers's Journal, these penguins
form a rude sort of commonwealth among
themselves. In the rearing of their young
they exhibit considerable dependence on
one another. The hens lay one or two
eggs, never more, in a hollow of the ground
or on a little grass. The task of incuba-
tion is performed by both parents, the one
" off duty " going to the sea to procure food
for itself, and when the young are hatched
bringing a supply for the family. " Where
tens of thousands of nests are collected to-
gether so closely that the visitor cannot
walk without demolishing new-born nest-
lings or eggs at almost every step, it is diffi-
cult to understand how each bird knows its
own nest, eggs, or nestling, as it appears to
be the case until the young are able to walk
about for themselves. Then the latter form
into 'infant school^,' presided over by sev-
eral matrons, and ask and receive food
from any charitable passer-by, and the so-
cial system, so far as it goes, has attained
its highest point. There is no longer any
recognition of menm and tuum, but a deter-
mination on the part of each adult to do
the best for the rising generation, without
regard to the petty rights of property so

548

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

stoutly maintained and hotly contested in
the egg stage. Woe betide the incautious
or over-confident experimenter who shall
remove one of these tierce motherly things
from her nest with his hands ! — the penalty
will be a succession of stabs, which pro-
duce notoriously painful wounds. But the
occupant of the nearest nest will always
receive and tuck under her, together with
her own brood, the young of a dispossessed
neighbor. All through the nursery arc
well-beaten paths along which the birds
hop in single file with most grotesque ac-
tion to and from the sea ; and from the
nests on either side come sharp stabs at
the legs of the intruder, a deafening roar
accompanying his progress the while, and
an odor assaulting his nose which only
those who have sailed in a guano-ship can
realize. The time has now arrived when
the young must be taught their first swim-
ming-lessons, and the rudiments of that
aquatic life to which their special structure
confines them. From the rookery to the
sea they advance, hopping with both legs
together, and jump feet foremost bolt up-
right from a ledge into the water. Then,
and only then, are they thoroughly at home,
and, making use of nothing but the power-
ful scaly flippers, dart about with the rapid-
ity of a fish. Frequently the old bird will
rise to the surface with a young one bal-
anced on each flipper, maintained in its pre-
carious position by the grasp of its own
tiny paddles, and no doubt vastly enjoying
this introduction to life and the novel ex-
periences to be met with under water."

A Cniqnc Surgical Operation. — A sur-
gical operation of probably unique charac-
ter is described in the Lancet, by Dr. Alexan-
der Patterson — namely, the employment of a
piece of dog's bone in the treatment of un-
united fracture. The patient, while at sea,
sustained a simple fracture of both bones
of the left forearm. The arm was at once
put in splints, and so remained for some
weeks. On removing the splints it was
found that the bones had not united. It
was not till eight months after the occur-
rence of the accident that the man was ad-
mitted to the Western Infirmary of Glas-
gow. Repeated efforts were made to induce
the broken bones to reunite, but all without

avail ; and finally it was decided to ampu-
tate the arm. In the absence of the regular
surgeon, Dr. Patterson took charge of the
case, and obtained permission to make an
attempt at savmg the limb. The operation
is best described in the author's own words :

" The patient was taken and placed un-
der the influence of chloroform, while at the
same time a retriever ciog was being anaes-
thetized. I made an incision along the ulnar
side of the arm, cutting down upon the ends
of the fractured bone, and removing the
fibrous band which alone formed the bond
of union ; the rounded points were removed
by the saw, and a hole drilled obliquely
through each squared end. The same pro-
cess was repeated on the radial side, when
it was found that an interspace of about
three-quarters of an inch existed between
the two fragments of the radius. In the
mean time, one of the senior students had
exposed the humerus of the quadruped,
completely denuded of every tissue except
the periosteum. The length of bone was
accurately measured (three-quarters of an
inch), while from half an inch beyond the
end of the necessary length the periosteal
covering was rapidly but carefully dissected,
the bone sawed through, a hole drilled in
either end obliquely, as in the radius and
ulna, and at once placed between the ends
of the radius, where it fitted accurately.
Wires having been passed through the holes,
the bones were firmly tied together, the
loose half-inch margin of the periosteum of
the foreign bone being carefully spread over
the periosteum of the radius. The wound
was stitched with silver wire, the bone su-
tures coming out at each end of the incision.
Wires were passed through the ulna, tied
together, and the wound treated in a similar
manner. The entire operation was con-
ducted under the carbolic-acid spray. The
arm was put up in gauze, and held in tMO
rectangular splints."

We need not give details of the patient's
condition from day to day. Suffice it to say .
that one wound remained open for twelve
months, and that then the dog's bone, re-
duced to about half its size, came awaj',
after which the wound healed completely.
The radius seemed to have fallen in some-
what toward the ulna, leaving a slight de-
formity. The man is by occupation a ma-

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

549

fine engineer, and is now able to resume
his ordinary pursuits. Dr. Patterson had
hoped that the strange bone might find a
new home for itself in the human arm. This
faiUng, he was confident that it would secure
perfect alignment and steadiness in the ulnar
fragments. In the latter respect the event
fully justified his anticipation. He still be-
lieves in the possibility of incorporating a
foreign bone.

ineient Hygiene. — It would be matter
for a very interesting inquiry to ascertain
how it happens that, with regard to many
abstruse questions of practreal science, hy-
giene for instance, the ancient Hebrews,
Romans, Greeks, etc., reached results which
for correctness put to shame the ignorance
of later times. An illustration of this truth
is given in a memoir by Dr. John Spear,
lately published in the " Lancet." He first
speaks of the precautions to be taken in se-
lecting sites for human habitations. From
the "Mishna" we learn how carefully all
unclean things were removed from the vi-
cinity of Jerusalem and the temple ; and
the investigations of Signer Perotti in the
site of the ancient Jewish capital have shown
how complete were the systems of sewers
and the means of sewage precipitation and
disposal. We find again that the Latin au-
thor Vitruvius, in his work " De Architec-
tura," supposed to have been written in the
reign of Augustus, in giving directions for
securing healthy sites for towns, lays spe-
cial stress on the necessity of a porous soil,
and, in order to secure the ventilation of that
soil, on perfect subsoil drainage. The views
of Hippocrates on this subject, as also of
Pliny and of other classic writers, might be
studied at the present day with profit. Thus
it would appear that the memorable re-
searches of Pettenkofer, in a great measure,
serve only to make us acquainted with the
laws whicli were perfectly well known to the
men of olden time. Then, as to practice :
in the ancient cities of the world — Rome,
Carthage, Herculaneum, Xineveh, and Alex-
andria, we know how well pollution of the
soil was guarded against. What most judi-
ciously executed works for this and other
sanitary objects existed, recent discoveries
have revealed. Probably in all these places
too, and certainly in Rome, interment with-

in the city walls was forbidden. . " It is
worthy of note," observes Dr. Spear, " that
at this period of history pestilences and
epidemics were not of common occurrence,
and when they appeared they were usually
clearly traceable to famine or to war. But
to this enlightened and golden age succeed-
ed one of darkness and intellectual torpor.
Sanitary measures were forgotten or ignored ;
filth accumulated in crowded towns ; the
practice of intramural sepulture became
general. The soil, the air, the water, we
read, were impregnated with decomposing
matters. As a result we have recorded
those most destructive pestilences of the
middle ages. The plague, the black-death,
fever, and small-pox, swept over the land.
. . . Pestilences were ascribed to the plea-
sure of Almighty God."

How to keep coo!. — The experiences of
an English visitor to the Paris World's Fair,
as recorded in the " English Mechanic," con-
vey a useful lesson on the means of enduring
without serious discomfort the extreme of
summer heat. This geritleman, Mr. D. Win-
stanley, writes that he went to Paris in
March, the weather then being decidedly
cold. As the temperature gradually in-
creased he noticed that his ordinary cloth-
ing became uncomfortable whenever at 8
A. M. the thermometer indicated 10" Fahr.
Accordingly, when that temperature was
indicated, he made it a rule to adopt linen
clothing, and he then enjoyed a com-
fortable temperature throughout the day.
As summer advanced and the heat increased
he never felt hot when clad in linen. Even
when the thermometer had risen to 97°
Fahr. in the shade, he felt no uncomfortable
sensation of being hot, and, furnished with
a "havelock," strolled leisurely in the blaz-
ing sun for hours, the thermometer indi-
cating 125° Fahr., without discomfort, and
without consciousness of perspiration. Mr.
Winstanley adds, however, that during the
hot weather he lived almost wholly on vege-
tables and fruits — peas, beans, melons, etc.
— using no meat, and above all no fat. He
takes occasion to commend the French
style of windows in dwelling-houses. "In-
stead of our miserable idea of an horizontal
section," he writes, "which permits at most
only one-half of the window aperture to be

55°

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

opened for the admission of air, the French
employ the vertical division, and open the
windows inwardly on hinges as we open
doors. The window apertures are also
large, or rather high, descending to within
eighteen inches of the floor, and ascending
to within four inches of the ceiling. Out-
side these are latticed shutters. When the
windows are open and the shutters closed
the sun is effectually kept out, and the free
circulation of the air is scarcely interfered
with. A light balustrade of iron, within
the shutters and without the glass, serves
to prevent falling through the windows."

Destruction of American Forests.— It
has been for some years apparent that the
United States supply of timber must fail at
no distant day, unless some concerted meas-
ures are taken for growing new forests or
in soTie way preserving the old. The pres-
ent condition of the lumbering business will
be understood from the following facts, pub-
lished by the St. Paul " Pioneer Press," and
based on the observations of Mr. James
Little, a lumber-merchant of Montreal, who
has long studied this subject: Of the twen-
ty-six States comprising the Xew England,
Middle, Western, and Northwestern, to the
Kocky Mountains, only four are now able to
furnish lumber-supplies beyond their own
requirements ; the four being Maine, Michi-
gan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. But Maine
is almost stripped of her pine-forests, and
lumberers have to go to the head-waters of
the rivers in search of spruce, while mere
saplings, six or seven inches in diameter, go
to the mill. In a few years Maine will have
neither pine nor spruce for home consump-
tion. The northern parts of Michigan, Wis-
consin, and Minnesota, are the only locali-
ties of the whole twenty-six States which can
furnish supplies of white pine beyond the
home demand ; but they will not be able to
do so, Mr. Little affirms, for more than five
or six years longer. The main streams are
all stripped, and the dependence of the lum-
bermen is now on the head-waters of the
tributaries. In 1870, according to the cen-
sus report, there were in the United States
173,450 industrial establishments, employ-
ing 1,093,202 hands, devoted to the manu-
facture of wooden articles. The impression
prevails that when our supply of lumber

fails, as it must inevitably within the next
ten years, we can find in Canada a supply
that will not be exhausted in centuries.
But this is an error; at least, Mr. Little
asserts that there is not from Manitoba to
the Gulf of St. Lawrence as much pine,
spruce, hemlock, white-wood, and other
commercial timber, as would supply the
United States for even three years ! In
the light of such facts as these, it behooves
the people of this country to seriously con-
sider the subject of reforestation and the
protection of young timber-trees.

Blovenient of Water in the Suez Canal.

— The currents of the Suez Canal and the
action of the prevalent winds on the water
therein have been studied by M. Lemasson,
who finds that Lake Timsah and the basin
of the Bitter Lakes, the former in the mid-
dle of the line of navigation, the latter near-
ly at the middle of the southern branch of
the canal, constitute two great regulators,
at which the tidal currents from the two
seas respectively expire. The north and
south branches of the canal are not, how-
ever, independent as regards the movement
of their waters. The dominant winds in
this region blow, from May to October, from
the north and northwest, and raise the mean
level of the waters of the Mediterranean at
Port Said, while they depress the mean level
at Suez. The difference of level, which at-
tains almost sixteen inches in September,
sets up, in summer, a current from the
Mediterranean to the Red Sea, which is in-
terrupted by the tides, but nevertheless car-
ries a considerable volume of water from
north to south. In the winter, on the con-
trary, the south winds blow strongly, and
the mean level of the Red Sea is then high-
er than that of the Mediterranean, the dif-
ference attaining a maximum of nearly one
foot. The general direction of the current
of the canal then sets from the Red Sea to
the Mediterranean. The volume of water
flowing annually from sea to sea is estimated
at 400,000,000 cubic metres, and this with
the tidal currents annihilates the effects of
evaporation at the surface of the lakes, and
aids the solution of the great salt deposit
in the basin of the Bitter Lakes, which, in-
stead of increasing, is diminishing, espe-
cially in the line of transit of ships.

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

551

The Parasites ia Tort. — Cysticercus cel-
tulosce, familiarly known as " measles " in
pork, on passing into the human economy
may develop into the common tapeworm.
Analogous entozoa are sometimes found in
beef, veal, mutton, and other meats, but the
great source of these formidable parasites
is pork. They can be easily detected in
the carcass of a pig that is infested by
them. " They are in the muscles," writes
Dr. Yacher, in a paper read before an as-
sociation of health officers, " between the
fibers, between the muscles, on the surface
of the muscles, and even in the walls of the
heart.. . . Specimens from the same beast,"
he continues, " are nearly of the same size,
but specimens taken from different beasts
vary considerably in size. The egg-shaped
investing bladder is scarcely ever less than
an eighth of an inch in length, and it some-
times measures half an inch, so that it may
be easily seen and removed. It is semi-
transparent, and contains a clear fluid, and
what looks like a little white ball. On
transferring the bladder to a glass slip, a
touch with the point of a knife will suffice
to rupture it, and if you tlien press a cover
down upon it you have a preparation in
which the rostellum and circlet of hooks
may be distinctly seen with an ordinary
lens." When meat is a little dry from ex-
posure to air the cysts collapse, and are not
distinctly visible. Dr. Thudicum recom-
mends that such pork be submerged in
water which the cysts will absorb by en-
dosmosis.

Proposed Damesticatlon of tbc ifrkan
Elephantt — While the Asiatic elephant is in
India domesticated and employed as a beast
of burden, the African elephant, living, has
no economic use, and is merely hunted for
" sport," or for its tusks, hide, and flesh. It
is now proposed to attempt the utilization
of the African elephant as an aid in the ex-
ploration of the " Dark Continent" and for
the transportation of goods from the coast
to the fertile plateaus of the interior. Even
in the Cape Colony, to say nothing of cen-
tral Africa, elephants are numerous, and
one troop has been observed within fifty
miles of Port Elizabeth. Sir J. Fayrer sug-
gests that on this troop the attempt at do-
mestication might first be made. Accord-

ing to him, the African elephant is as well
fitted for labor as the Asiatic, and could be
as easily tamed and trained. That this is
the case is amply proved by the state of
docility to which the male and female Afri-
can elephants in the London Zoological
Garden have been reduced by their keeper.
They are just as obedient, intelligent, and
free from vice as their Asiatic congeners,
and there appears to be no room for doubt
that they might be utilized to just as good
purpose. The importation of a few of tho
officers who have had experience in catch-
ing and training elephants in India, togeth-
er with a few trained Indian elephants to
commence the woi'k, would very soon pui
the value of the project to the test.

Relation of Brain-bn!k to Intelligence.

— From observations made on numerous
series of human crania, Dr. Lebon, of Paris,
infers that intelligence is in proportion to
the volume of the cranium. By comparing
these series of crania, it is also found that
the superior races present a much greater
number of voluminous crania than the oth-
ers. The same phenomenon is presented
in proportion to the degree of civilization ;
the Parisian crania of the twelfth century
present, for example, a less volume than
the crania of modern Parisians ; at the
same time the difference lietween individ-
uals becomes more considerable. Dr. Le-
bon does not believe that stature exercises
any considerable influence on the volume
of the cranium and the weight of the brain.
Nevertheless, with equal height, the woman
has a brain less heavy than the man. The
author, from a study of seventeen male and
seventeen female brains, found between
them a difference of 1Y2 grammes to the
advantage of the former. It is worthy of
remark that, among the superior races, the
cranium of the women is generally much
less than among the inferior races. Tliis is
due. Dr. Lebon says, to the insignificant
part taken by woman in the work of modern
society. There is a constant inequality of
development between the two halves of the
brain, which is sometimes more developed
on the I'ight, sometimes on the left, without
race or state of intelligence appearing to
have any manifest influence on the direction
of this inequality of development.

552

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

NOTES.

In the death of George Henry Lewes,
which occurred in London, December 1st,
the more seiious literature of England lost
one of its best representatives. Mr. Lewes
possessed a very remarkable degree of na-
tive intellectual power, and this gift of na-
ture he appears to have turned to the best
account by stern self-discipline and assidu-
ous and well-regulated study. He was a
worker in many different fields of literary
activity, in some of which he proved him-
self a master, while in none did he sink to
mediocrity. His learning was profound and
accurate, and his control of his intellectual
resources was complete. In our ninth vol-
ume we publislied a brief biography of Mr.
Lewes, with portrait. He has since that
period been engaged on the " Problems of
Life and Mind," but, as far as we know, has
not published any volume since the second.

An Englishman traveling in the Rocky
Mountains, in company with an American
astronomer, severely criticised the hideous
defacement of picturesque places by big-
lettered advertisements on every conspicu-
ous rock. His fellow traveler readily ad-
mitted that the custom admits of no justifi-
cation, but added, " I guess we are not as
bad as some of your people who have tried
to advertise themselves on the planet Mars"
(by naming Martial objects after themselves
or their friends).

A NEW illuminating gas is now, accord-
ing to the Liverpool " Post," under exam-
ination by the British Lighthouse Board
(Trinity House). It is declared to be not
only cheaper than ordinary gas, but far more
effective. It is capable of so much concen-
tration that the quantity contained in a small
buoy has supplied a light burning for twenty-
eight days with sufficient brilliancy to show
the position of the buoy to passing ships.

Dr. Lyon Playfair complains that,
whereas the 30,000 medical men of England
are protected by law against the competi-
tion of unqualified practitioners, the 150,000
teachers have no such protection, and have
no recognition in the face of the law as con-
stituting a distinct profession. Any one who
has failed in any other calling may, if he
please, open a school or seminary, and no
one can question his right. Dr. Playfair
intends to move in Parhament for a bill to
determine the qualifications of teachers, and
to exclude from that profession all but duly
registered aspirants.

The gas-wells of East Liverpool, Ohio,
are worthy of being ranked among the
" wonders of the world." They are situated,
writes a correspondent of the Cleveland
" Herald," in and around the town, and give

it a continual supply of light, the gas being
almost as free as air. It costs practically
nothing, and both heats and lights the town.
The street lamps are ablaze day as well as
night, for it costs nothing to supply the gas,
and it takes trouble to shut it off. Then
the gas is almost the only fuel employed in
the town, being conducted into the grates
and stoves by pipes. It is also used for
generating steam-power for sundry great
pottery manufactories, employing upward
of 2,000 workmen. The first of the wells
was opened twenty years ago, and there are
no signs of exhaustion.

In the discussion of the profits of wheat-
growing to-day as compared with the prof-
its forty or fifty years ago — a discussion
suggested by a strike of agricultural labor-
ers in an English county — the very curious
fact was brought out that the wheat itself
represents only one half of the produce, the
other half being represented by the straw.
The price of wheat has been declining for
years, but the price of straw has been rising,
till now it is actually the more important, in
England, that is to say. The demand for
straw as litter, for fodder to mix with other
foods, and for different branches of manu-
facturing industry, has so increased that the
article is scarce even in rural districts.

A WRITER in»" Land and Water," under
the signature of "Bangkok," gives this
amusing account of a little scene which he
witnessed at the court of the " Second
King" of Siam: "After sitting down and
lighting our cigarettes he (the Second King)
rang a little hand-bell, and in the dimly-
lighted veranda I saw three figures wrig-
gling along on theii' stomachs to his majes-
ty's chair, on reaching which they sat upon
their haunches and showed themselves, three
handsome white-haired old men who were
introduced to me as the royal astronomers."
They had been summoned for the purpose
of exhibiting to the foreigner their calcula-
tions of an approaching solar eclipse, Avhich
proved to be very nearly exact. After a
little present from their master, the old gen-
tlemen retired as they had come.

The " Holy Synod " of Athens having
ordered public prayer for rain to be made
in all the churches of its jurisdiction, one
priest, according to the " Independent,"
made the following common-sense remarks
to his congregation : " Blessed Christians,"
said he, " our most holy synod has ordered
public prayer to be made for rain. But I
have been considering that, although we in
Attica do indeed need rain, in Peloponnesus
it would be fatal to the olives and currants.
Therefore, blessed Christians, I leave the
matter to each one of you. As for me, I am
quite wiHing to leave it to God to do as he
chooses."

CHRISTIAN GOTTFRIED EHRENBERG.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

MARCH, 1879.

THE ELECTKIC LIGHT.'

By Peofessob JOHN TYNDALL.

THE subject of this evening's discourse was proposed by our late
honorary secretary.'^ That word " late " has for me its own con-
notations. It implies, among other things, the loss of a comrade by
whose side I have worked for thirteen years. On the other hand,
regret is not without its opposite in the feeling with which I have seen
him rise by sheer intrinsic merit, moral and intellectual, to the highest
official position which it is in the power of English science to bestow.
Well, he, whose constant desire and practice were to promote the
interests and extend the usefulness of this institution, thought that, at
a time when the electric light occupied so much of public attention, a
few sound notions regarding it, on the more purely scientific side,
might, to use his own pithy expression, be "planted" in the public
mind. I am here to-night with the view of trying, to the best of my
ability, to realize the idea of our friend.

In the year 1800 Volta announced his immortal discovery of the
pile. Whetted to eagerness by the previous conflict between him and
Galvani, the scientific men of the age flung themselves with ardor upon
the new discovery, repeating Volta's experiments, and extending them
in many ways. The light and heat of the voltaic circuit attracted
marked attention, and in the innumerable tests and trials to which this
question was subjected, the utility of platinum and charcoal as means
of exalting the light was on all hands recognized. Mr. Children, with
a battery surpassing in strength all its predecessors, fused platinum
wires eighteen inches long, while "points of charcoal produced a light

' A discourse delivered at the Royal Institution of Great Britain on Friday, January
17, 1879.

^ Mr. William Spottiswoode, now President of the Royal Society.
VOL. XIV. — 36

554 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

so vivid that the sunshine, compared with it, appeared feeble." ' Such
effects reached their culmination when, in 1808, through the liberality
of a few members of the Royal Institution, Davy was enabled to con-
struct a battery of two thousand pairs of plates, with which he after-
ward obtained calorific and luminous effects far transcending anything
previously observed. The arc of flame between the carbon terminals
was four inches long, and by its heat quartz, sapphire, magnesia, and
lime were melted like wax in a candle-flame ; while fragments of
diamond and plumbago rapidly disappeared, as if reduced to vapor.''

The first condition to be fulfilled in the development of heat and
light by the electric current is that it shall encounter and overcome
resistance. Flowing through a perfect conductor, no matter what the
strength of the current might be, neither heat nor light could be de-
veloped. A rod of unresisting copper carries away uninjured and
unwarmed an atmospheric discharge competent to shiver to splinters a
resisting oak. I send the self-same current through a wire composed
of alternate lengths of silver and platinum. The silver offers little
resistance, the platinum offers much. The consequence is that the
platinum is raised to a white heat, while the silver is not visibly
warmed. The same holds good with regard to the carbon terminals
employed for the production of the electric light. The interval between
them offers a powerful resistance to the passage of the current, and it
is by the gathering up of the force necessary to burst across this interval
that the voltaic current is able to throw the carbon into that state of
violent intestine commotion which we call heat, and to which its efful-
gence is due. The smallest interval of air usually suffices to stop the
current. But when the carbon points are first brought together and
then separated, there occurs between them a discharge of incandescent
matter which carries, or may carry, the current over a considerable
space. The light comes almost wholly from the incandescent carbons.
The space between them is filled with a blue flame which, being usually
bent by the earth's magnetism, receives the name of the Voltaic Arc.

For seventy years, then, we have been in possession of this tran-
scendent light without applying it to the illumination of our streets
and houses. Such applications suggested themselves at the outset, but
there were grave difficulties in their way. The first difficulty arose
from the waste of the carbons, which are dissipated in part by ordinary
combustion, and in part by the electric transfer of matter from the one
carbon to the other. To keep the carbons at the proper distance
asunder, regulators were devised — the earliest, I believe, by Staite, and

' Davy, " Chemical Philosophy," p. 110.

* In the concluding lecture at the Koyal Institution in June, 1810, Davy showed the
action of this battery. He then fused iridium, the alloy of indium and osmium, and
other refractory substances. See " Philosophical Magazine," vol. xxxv., p. 463. Quetelet
assigns the first production of the spark between coal-points to Curtet in 1802. Davy
certainly in that year showed the carbon-light with a battery of 150 pairs of plates in
the theatre of the Royal Institution (" Journal of the Royal Institution," vol. i., p. 166).

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 555

the most successful by Duboscq, Foucault, and Serrin, who have been
succeeded by Holmes, Siemens, Browning, Carre, Gramme, Lontin, and
others. By such arrangements the first difficulty was practically over-
come ; but the second, a graver one, is probably inseparable from the
construction of the voltaic battery. It arises from the operation of
that inexorable law which, throughout the material universe, demands
an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, refusing to yield the faintest
glow of heat or glimmer of light without the expenditure of an abso-
lutely equal quantity of some other power. Hence, in practice, the
desirability of any transformation must depend upon the value of the
product in relation to that of the power expended. The metal zinc
can be burned like paper ; it might be ignited in a flame, but it is pos-
sible to avoid the introduction of all foreign heat and to burn the zinc
in air of the temperature of this room. This is done by placing zinc-
foil at the focus of a concave mirror, which concentrates to a point the
divergent electric beam, but which does not warm the air. The zinc
burns at the focus with a violet flame, and we could readily determine
the amount of heat generated by its combustion. But zinc can be
burned not only in air but in liquids. It is thus burned when acidulated
water is poured over it ; it is also thus burned in the voltaic battery.
Here, however, to obtain the oxygen necessary for its combustion, the
zinc has to dislodge the hydrogen with which the oxygen is combined.
The consequence is, that the heat due to the combustion of the metal
in the liquid falls short of that developed by its combustion in air, by
the exact quantity necessary to separate the oxygen from the hydrogen.
Fully four fifths of the total heat is used up in this molecular work,
only one fifth remaining to warm the battery. It is upon this residue
that we must now fix our attention, for it is solely out of it that we
manufacture our electric light.

Before you are two small voltaic batteries of ten cells each. The
two ends of one of them are united by a thick copper wire, while into
the circuit of the other a thin platinum wire is introduced. The
platinum glows with a white heat, while the copper wire is not sensibly
warmed. Now an ounce of zinc, like an ounce of coal, produces by its
complete combustion in air a constant quantity of heat. The total heat
developed by an ounce of zinc through its union with oxygen in the
battery is also absolutely invariable. Let our two batteries, then, con-
tinue in action until an ounce of zinc in each of them is consumed. In
the one case the heat generated is purely domestic, being liberated on
the hearth where the fuel is burned, that is to say in the cells of the bat-
tery itself. In the other case, tlie heat is in part domestic and in part
foreign — in part within the battery and in part outside. One of the
fundamental truths to be borne in mind is that the sum of the foreign
and domestic — of the external and internal — heats is fixed and invaria-
ble. Hence, to have heat outside you must draw upon the heat w^ithin.
These remarks apply to the electric light. By the intermediation of the

556 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

electric current tbe moderate warmth of the battery is not only carried
away but concentrated, so as to produce, at any distance from its origin,
a heat next in order to that of the sun. The current might therefore
be defined as the swift carrier of heat. Loading itself here with invisi-
ble power, by a process of transmutation which outstrips the dreams of
the alchemist, it can discharge its load, in the fraction of a second, as
light and heat, at the opposite side of the world.

Thus, the light and heat produced outside the battery are derived
from the metallic fuel burned within the battery ; and, as zinc happens
to be an expensive fuel, though we have possessed the electric light
for more than seventy years, it has been too costly to come into
general use. But within these walls, in the autumn of 1831, Faraday
discovered a new source of electricity, which we have now to investi-
gate. On the table before me lies a coil of covered copper wire, with
its ends disunited. I lift one side of the coil from the table, and in
doing so exert the muscular effort necessary to overcome the simple
weight of the coil. I unite its two ends and repeat the experiment.
The effort now required, if accurately measured, would be found greater
than before. In lifting the coil I cut the lines of the earth's magnetic
force, such cutting, as proved by Farada}', being always accompanied,
in a closed 'conductor, by the production of an " induced " electric cur-
rent which, as long as the ends of the coil remained separate, had no
circuit through which it could pass. The current here evoked subsides
immediately as heat ; this heat being the exact equivalent of the excess
of effort just referred to as over and above that necessary to overcome
the simple weight of the coil. When the coil is liberated it falls back
to the table, and when its ends are united it encounters a resistance
over and above that of the air. It generates an electric current opposed
in direction to the first, and reaches the table with a diminished shock.
The amount of the diminution is accurately represented by tbe warmth
which the momentary current develops in the coil. Various devices
were employed to exalt these induced currents, among which the in-
struments of Pixii, Clarke, and Saxton were long conspicuous. Fara-
day, indeed, foresaw that such attempts were sure to be made ; but he
chose to leave them in the hands of the mechanician, while he himself
pursued the deeper study of facts and principles, " I have rather," he
writes in 1831, "been desirous of discovering new facts and new rela-
tions dependent on magneto-electric induction than of exalting the
force of those already obtained ; being assured that the latter would
find their full development hereafter."

For more than twenty years magneto-electricity had subserved its
first and noblest purpose of augmenting our knowledge of the powers
of nature. It had been discovered and applied to intellectual ends,
its application to practical ends being still unrealized. The Drum-
mond light had raised thoughts and hopes of vast improvements in pub-
lic illumination. Many inventors tried to obtain it cheaply; and in

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 557

1853 an attempt was made to organize a company in Paris for the pur-
pose of procuring, through the decomposition of water by a powerful
magneto-electric machine constructed by M. Nollet, the oxygen and
hydrogen necessary for the lime-light. The experiment failed, but the
apparatus by which it was attempted suggested to Mr. Holmes other
and more hopeful applications. Abandoning the attempt to produce
the lime-light, with persevering skill Holmes continued to improve the
apparatus and to augment its power, until it was finally able to yield a
mao-neto-electric light comparable to that of the voltaic battery. Judged
by later knowledge, this first machine would be considered cumbrous
and defective in the extreme ; but, judged by the light of antecedent
events, it marked a great step forward.

Faraday was profoundly interested in the growth of his own dis-
covery. The Elder Brethren of the Trinity House had had the wis-
dom to make him their " Scientific Adviser " ; and it is interesting to
notice, in his reports regarding the light, the mixture of enthusiasm and
caution which characterized him. Enthusiasm was with him a motive
power, guided and controlled by a disciplined judgment. He rode it
as a charger, holding it in by a strong rein. While dealing with
Holmes, he states the case of the light ^>ro and con. He checks the
ardor of the inventor, and, as regards cost, rejecting sanguine esti-
mates, he insists over and over again on the necessity of continued ex-
periment for the solution of this important question. His matured
opinion was, however, strongly in favor of the light. " I beg to state,"
he writes in his report to the Elder Brethren, " that, in my opinion.
Professor Holmes has practically established the fitness and sufficiency
of the magneto-electric light for lighthouse purposes, so far as its na-
ture and management are concerned. The light produced is powerful
beyond any other that I have yet seen so applied, and in principle may
be accumulated to any degree ; its regularity in the lantern is great ;
its management easy, and its care there may be confided to attentive
keepers of the ordinary degree of intellect and knowledge." As regards
the conduct of Professor Holmes during these memorable experiments,
it is only fair to add the following remark with which Faraday closes
the report submitted to the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House on
the 29th of April, 1859 : " I must bear my testimony," he says, " to the
perfect openness, candor, and honor of Professor Holmes. He has an-
swered every question, concealed no weak point, explained every applied
principle, given every reason for a change either in this or that direc-
tion, during several periods of close questioning, in a manner that was
very agreeable to me, whose duty it was to search for real faults or
possible objections in respect both of the present time and the future." '

Soon afterward the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House had the
intelligent courage to establish the machines of Holmes permanently at

' Holmes's first offer of his macbine to the Trinity House bears the date February
2, 1857.

558 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Dungeness, where the magneto-electric light continued to shine for
many years.

The magneto-electric machine of the Alliance Company soon suc-
ceeded that of Holmes, and was in various ways a very marked im-
provement on the latter. Its currents were stronger and its light
brighter than those of its predecessor. In it, moreover, the comaiu-
tator, the flashing and destruction of which were sources of irrregu-
larity and deterioration in the machine of Holmes, was, at the sugges-
tion of M. Masson,' entirely abandoned ; alternating currents instead
of the direct current being employed. M. Serrin modified his excellent
lamp with the express view of enabling it to cope with alternating cur-
rents. During the International Exhibition of 1862, where the machine
was shown, M. Berlioz offered to dispose of the invention to the Elder
Brethren of the Trinity House. They referred the matter to Faraday,
and he replied as follows : " I am not aware that the Trinity House
authorities have advanced so far as to be able to decide whether they
will require more magneto-electric machines, or whether, if they should
require them, they see reason to suppose the means of their supply in
this country, from the source already open to them, would not be suffi-
cient. Therefore I do not see that at present they want to purchase a
machine." Faraday was obviously swayed by the desire to protect the
interests of Holmes, who had borne the burden and heat which fall
upon the pioneer. The Alliance machines were introduced with success
at Cape La Heve, near Havre ; and the Elder Brethren of the Trinity
House, determined to have the best available apparatus, decided, in
1868, on the introduction of machines on the Alliance principle into
the lighthouses at Souter Point and the South Foreland. These ma-
chines were constructed by Professor Holmes, and they still continue
in operation. With regard, then, to the application of electricity to
lighthouse purposes, the course of events was this : The Dungeness
light was introduced on January 31, 1862 ; the light at La Heve on
December 26, 1863, or nearly two years later. But Faraday's experi-
mental trial at the South Foreland preceded the lighting of Dungeness
by more than two years. The electric light was afterward established
at Cape Grinez. The light was started at Souter Point on January 11,
1871 ; and at the South Foreland on January 1, 1872. At the Lizard,
which probably enjoys the newest and most powerful development of
the electric light, it began to shine on January 1, 1878.

I have now to revert to a point of apparently small moment, but
which really constitutes an important step in the development of this
subject. I refer to the form given in 1857 to the rotating armature by
Dr. Werner Siemens, of Berlin, Instead of employing coils wound trans-
versely round cores of iron, as in the machine of Saxton, Siemens, after
giving a bar of iron the proper shape, wound his wire longitudinally
1 Du Moncel, " L'^lectricite," August, IS'ZS, p. 150.

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 559

round it, and obtained thereby greatly augmented effects between suit-
ably placed magnetic poles. Such an armature is employed in the
small magneto-electric machine which I now introduce to your notice,
and for which the institution is indebted to Mr. Henry Wilde, of Man-
chester. There are here sixteen permanent horseshoe magnets placed
parallel to each other, and between their poles a Siemens armature.
The two ends of the wire which surrounds the armature are now dis-
connected. In turning the handle and causing the armature to rotate,
I simply overcome ordinary mechanical friction. But the two ends of
the armature coil can be united in a moment, and when this is done I
immediately experience a greatly increased resistance to rotation.
Something over and above the ordinary friction of the machine is now
to be overcome, and by the expenditure of an additional amount of
muscular force I am able to overcome it. The excess of labor thus
thrown upon my arm has its exact equivalent in the electric currents
generated, and the heat produced by their subsidence in the coil of the
armature. A portion of this heat may be rendered visible by connect-
ing the two ends of the coil with a thin platinum wire. "When the
handle of the machine is rapidly turned the wire glows, first with a red
heat, then with a white heat, and finally with the heat of fusion. The
moment the wire melts the circuit round the armature is broken, an in-
stant relief from the labor thrown upon the arm being the consequence.
Clearly realize the equivalent of the heat here developed. During the
period of turning the machine a certain amount of combustible substance
was oxidized or burned in the muscles of my arm. Had it done no ex-
ternal work the matter consumed would have produced a definite amount
of heat. Now, the muscular heat actually developed during the rota-
tion of the machine fell short of this definite amount, the missing heat
being reproduced to the last fraction in the glowing platinum wire and the
other parts of the machine. Here, then, the electric current intervenes
between my muscles and the generated heat, exactly as it did a moment
ago between the voltaic battery and its generated heat. The electric
current is to all intents and purposes a vehicle which transports the
heat both of muscle and battery to any distance from the hearth where
the fuel is consumed. Not only .is the current a messenger, but it is
also an intensifier of magical power. The temperature of my arm is,
in round numbers, 100° Fahr., and it is by the intensification of this
heat that one of the most refractory of metals, which requires a heat
of 3,600° Fahr. to fuse it, has been reduced to the molten con-
dition.

Zinc, as I have said, is a fuel far too expensive to permit of the
electric light produced by its combustion being used for the common
purposes of life, and you will readily perceive that the human muscles,
or even the muscles of a horse, would be more expensive still. Here,
however, we can employ the force of burning coal to turn our machine,
and it is this employment of our cheapest fuel, rendered possible by

560 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Faraday's discovery, which opens out the prospect of our being able to
apply the electric light to public use.

In 1866 a great step in the intensification of induced currents, and
the consequent augmentation of the magneto-electric light, was taken
by Mr. Henry Wilde. It fell to my lot to report upon them to the
Royal Society, but before doing so I took the trouble of going to Man-
chester to witness Mr. Wilde's experiments. He operated in this way :
Starting from a small machine like that worked in your presence a
moment ago, he employed its current to excite an electro-magnet of a
peculiar shape, between whose poles rotated a Siemens armature ; '
from this armature currents were obtained vastly stronger than those
generated by the small magneto-electric machine. These currents
might have been immediately employed to produce the electric light ;
but instead of this they were conducted round a second electro-magnet
of vast size, between whose poles rotated a Siemens armature of cor-
responding dimensions. Three armatures therefore were involved in
this series of operations: 1. The armature of the small magneto-electric
machine ; 2. The armature of the first electro-magnet, which was of
considerable size ; and, 3. The armature of the second electro-magnet,
which was of vast dimensions. With the currents drawn from this
third armature, Mr. Wilde obtained effects, both as regards heat and
light, enormously transcending those previously known,^

But the discovery which, above all others, brought the practical
question to the front is now to be considered. On the 4th of February,
1867, a paper was received by the Royal Society from Mr. William
Siemens, bearing the title, " On the Conversion of Dynamic into Elec-
trical Force without the Use of Permanent Magnetism." ^ On the 14th
of February a paper from Sir Charles Wheatstone was received, bear-
ing the title, " On the Augmentation of the Power of a Magnet by the

' Pa"-e and Moio-no had previously shown that the magneto-electric current could
produce powerful electro-magnets.

2 Mr. Wilde's paper is published in the "Philosophical Transactions " for 1867, p.
89. My opmion regarding Wilde's machine was briefly expressed in a report to the
Elder Brethren of the Trinity House on the I'Zth of May, 1866 : " It gives me pleasure to
state that the machine is exceedingly effective, and that it far transcends in power all
other apparatus of the kind."

2 A paper on the same subject, by Dr. Werner Siemens, was read on the lYth of
January, ISGV, before the Academy of Sciences in Berlin. In a letter to "Engineering,"
No. 622, p. 45, Mr. Robert Sabine states that Professor Wheatstone's machines were
constructed by Mr. Stroh in the months of July and August, 1866. I do not doubt Mr.
Sabine's statement ; still it would be dangerous in the highest degree to depart from the
canon, in asserting which Faraday was specially strenuous, that the date of a discovery
is the date of its publication. Toward the end of December, 1866, Mr. Alfred Varley
also lodged a provisional specification (which, I believe, is a sealed document) embody-
ing the principles of the dynamo-electric machine, but some years elapsed before he made
anything public. His brother, Mr. Cromwell Varley, when writing on this subject in
1867, does not mention him ("Proceedings of the Royal Society," March 14, 1867). It
probably marks a national trait that sealed communications, though allowed in France,
have never been recognized by the scientific societies of England.

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 561

Reaction thereon of Currents induced by the Magnet itself." Both
papers, which dealt with the same discovery, and which were illustrated
by experiments, were read upon the same night, viz., the 14th of Feb-
ruary. The whole field of science hardly furnishes a more beautiful
example of the interaction of natural forces than that set forth in these
two papers. You can hardly find a bit of iron — you can hardly pick
up an old horseshoe, for example — that does not possess a trace of
permanent magnetism ; and from such a small beginning Siemens and
Wheatstone have taught us to rise by a series of interactions between
magnet and armature to a magnetic intensity previously unapproached.
Conceive the Siemens armature placed between the poles of a suitable
electro-magnet. Suppose this latter to possess at starting the faintest
trace of magnetism ; when the armature rotates, currents of infinitesimal
strength are generated in its coil. Let the ends of that coil be con-
nected with the wire surrounding the electro-magnet. The infinitesimal
current generated in the armature will then circulate round the magnet,
augmenting its intensity by an infinitesimal amount. The strengthened,
magnet instantly reacts upon the coil which feeds it, producing a cur-
rent of greater strength. This current again passes round the magnet,
which immediately brings its enhanced power to bear upon the coil.
By this play of mutual give and take between magnet and armature,
the strength of the former is raised in a very brief interval from almost
nothing to complete magnetic saturation. Such a magnet and arma-
ture are able to produce currents of extraordinary power, and if an elec-
tric lamp be introduced into the common circuit of magnet and arma-
ture, we can readily obtain a most powerful light.' By this discovery,
then, we are enabled to avoid the trouble and expense involved in the
employment of permanent magnets ; we are also enabled to drop the
exciting magneto-electric machine, and the duplication of the electro-
magnets. By it, in short, the electric generator is so far simplified,
and reduced in cost, as to enable electricity to enter the lists as the
rival of our present means of illumination.

Soon after the announcement of their discovery by Siemens and
Wheatstone, Mr. Holmes, at the instance of the Elder Brethren of the
Trinity House, endeavored to turn this discovery to account for light-
house purposes. Already, in the spring of 1869, he had constructed a
machine which, though hampered with defects, exhibited extraordinary
power. The light was developed in the focus of a dioptric apparatus
placed on the Trinity Wharf at Blackwall, and witnessed by the Elder
Brethren, Mr. Douglass, and myself, from an observatory at Charlton,
on the opposite side of the Thames. Falling upon the suspended haze,
the light illuminated the atmosphere for miles all round. Anything so
sunlike in splendor had not, I imagine, been previously witnessed. The

^ In 1867 Mr. Ladd introduced the modification of dividing the armature into two
separate coils, one of which fed the electro-magnets, while the other yielded the induced
currents.

562 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

apparatus of Holmes, however, was rapidly distanced by the safer and
more powerful machines of Siemens and Gramme.

As regards lighthouse illumination, the next step forward was taken
by the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House in 1876-77. Having pre-
viously decided on the establishment of the electric light at the Lizard
in Cornwall, they instituted at the time referred to an elaborate series
of comparative experiments wherein the machinery of Holmes, of the
Alliance Company, of Siemens, and of Gramme, were pitted against
each other. The Siemens and the Gramme machines delivered direct
currents, while those of Holmes and the Alliance Company delivered
alternating currents. The light of the latter was of the same intensity
in all azimuths round the place of observation ; that of the former was
different in different azimuths, the discharge being so regulated as to
yield a gush of light of special intensity in one direction. The follow-
ing table gives in standard candles the performance of the respective
machines : '

Name of Machines. Maximum. Minimum.

Holmes 1,523 1,523

Alliance 1,953 1,953

Gramme (No. 1) 6,663 4,016

" (No. 2) 6,663 4,016

Siemens (large) 14,818 8,932

" (small. No. 1) 5,359 3,339

" (small. No. 2) 6,864 4,138

Two Holmes's coupled 2,811 2,811

Two Gramme's 11,396 6,869

Two Siemens's (Nos. 1 and 2) 14,134 8,520

These determinations were made by Mr. Douglass, the engineer-in-
chief, and Mr. Ayres, the assistant engineer of the Trinity House. After
this contest, which was conducted throughout in the most amicable
manner, Siemens machines of the smaller type were chosen for the
Lizard.^

We have machines capable of sustaining a single light and also
machines capable of sustaining several lights. The Gramme machine,
for example, which ignites the Jablochkoff candles on the Thames Em-
bankment and at the Holborn Viaduct, delivers four currents, each
passing through its own circuit. In each circuit are five lamps through
which the current belonging to the circuit passes in succession. The
lights correspond to so many resisting spaces, over which, as already
explained, the current has to leap ; the force which accomplishes the

' Observations from tlio sea on the night of Norember 21, 1876, made the Gramme
and small Siemens practically equal to the Alliance. But the photometric observations,
in which the external resistance was abolished, and previous to which the light-keepers
had become more skilled in the management of the direct current, showed the differences
recorded in the table. A close inspection of these powerful lights at the South Foreland
caused my face to peel, as if it had been irritated by an Alpine sun.

' As the result of a recent trial by Mr. Schwendler, they have been also chosen for
India.

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 563

leap being that which produces the light. Whether the current is to
be competent to pass through five lamps in succession, or to sustain only
a single'lamp, depends entirely upon the will and skill of the maker of
the machine. He has, to guide him, definite laws laid down by Ohm half
a century ago, by which he must abide.

Ohm has taught us how to arrange the elements of our battery so
as to augment indefinitely its electro-motive force — that force, namely,
which urges the current forward and enables it to surmount external
obstacles. We have only to link the cells together so that the current
generated by each cell shall pass through all the others, and add its
electro-motive force to that of all the others. We increase, it is true,
at the same time the resistance of the battery, diminishing thereby the
quantity of the current from each cell, but we augment the power of
the integrated current to overcome external hindrances. The resistance
of the battery itself may, indeed, be rendered so great that the external
resistance shall vanish in comparison. What is here said regarding the
voltaic battery is equally true of magneto-electric machines. If we
wish our current to leap over five intervals, and produce five lights in
succession, we must invoke a sufficient electro-motive force. This is
done through multiplying by the use of thin wires the convolutions of
the rotating armature as, a moment ago, we augmented the cells of our
voltaic battery. Each additional convolution, like each additional cell,
adds its electro-motive force to that of all the others : and, though it
also adds its resistance, thereby diminishing the quantity of current
contributed by each convolution, the integrated current becomes en-
dowed with the power of leaping across the successive spaces neces-
sary for the production of a series of lights in its course. The current
is, as it were, rendered at once thinner and more piercing by the simul-
taneous addition of internal resistance and electro-motive power. The
machines, on the other hand, which produce only a single light have a
small internal resistance associated with a small electro-motive force.
In such machines the wire of the rotating armature is comparatively
short and thick, copper ribbon instead of wire being commonly em-
ployed. Such machines deliver a large quantity of electricity of low
tension — in other words, of low leaping power. Hence, though com-
petent when their power is converged upon a single interval to pro-
duce one splendid light, their currents are unable to force a passage
when the number of intervals is increased. Thus, by augmenting the
convolutions of our machines, we sacrifice quantity and gain electro-
motive force ; while, by lessening the number of the convolutions, we
sacrifice electro-motive force and gain quantity. Whether we ought to
choose the one form of machine or the other depends entirely upon the
external work the machine has to perform. If the object be to ob-
tain a single light of great splendor, machines of low resistance and
large quantity must be employed. If we want to obtain in the same
circuit several lights of moderate intensity, machines of high internal

564 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

resistance and of correspondingly high electro-motive power must be
invoked.

When a coil of covered wire surrounds a bar of iron, the two ends
of the coil being connected together, every alteration of the magnet-
ism of the bar is accompanied by the development of an induced
current in the coil. The current is only excited during the period of
magnetic change. No matter how strong or how weak the magnetism
of the bar may be, as long as its condition remains permanent no cur-
rent is developed. Conceive, then, the pole of a magnet placed near
one end of the bar to be moved along it toward the other end. During
the time of the pole's motion there will be an incessant change in the
magnetism of the bar, and accompanying this change we shall have an
induced current in the surrounding coil. If, instead of moving the
magnet, we move the bar and its surrounding coil past the magnetic
pole, a similar alteration of the magnetism of the bar will occur, and a
similar current will be induced in the coil. You have here the funda-
mental conception which led M. Gramme to the construction of his
beautiful machine.* He aimed at giving continuous motion to such a
bar as we have here described ; and for this purpose he bent it into a
continuous ring, which, by a suitable mechanism, he caused to rotate
rapidly close to the poles of a horseshoe magnet. The direction of the
current varied with the motion and with the character of the influenc-
ing pole. The result was that the currents in the two semicircles of
the coil surrounding the ring flowed in opposite directionss. But it was
easy, by the mechanical arrangement called a commutator, to gather
up the currents and cause them to flow in the same direction. The first
machines of Gramme, therefore, furnished direct currents, similar to
those yielded by the voltaic pile. M. Gramme subsequently so modified
his machine as to produce alternating currents. Such machines are
■employed to produce the lights now exhibited on the Holborn Viaduct
and the Thames Embankment.

Another machine of great alleged merit is that of M. Lontin. It
resembles in shape a toothed iron wheel, the teeth being used as cores,
round which are wound coils of copper wire. The wheel is caused to
rotate between the opposite poles of powerful electro-magnets. On
passing each pole the core or tooth is strongly magnetized, and instant-
ly evokes in the surrounding coil an induced current of corresponding
strength. The currents excited in approaching and retreating, and in
passing different poles, move in opposite directions, but by means of a
commutator these conflicting electric streams are gathered up and
caused to flow in a common bed. The bobbins in which the currents
are induced can be so increased in number as to augment indefinitely
the power of the machine. To excite his electro-magnets, M. Lontin
applies the principle of Mr. Wilde. A small machine furnishes a direct

' " Comptes Rcndus," ISYl, p. ITG. See also Gaugain on the Gramme machine,
"Ann. do Chim. at de Phys.," vol. xxviii., p. 324.

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 565

current, which is carried round the electro-magnets of a second and
larger machine. Wilde's principle, it may be added, is also applied on
the Thames Embankment and the Holborn Viaduct ; a small Gramme
machine being used in each case to excite the electro-magnets of the
large ones.

The Farmer- Wallace machine is also an apparatus of great power.
It consists of a combination of bobbins for induced currents, and of in-
ducing electro-magnets, the latter being excited by the method discov-
ered by Siemens and Wheatstone. In the machines intended for the
production of the electric light, the electro-motive force is so great as
to permit of the introduction of several lights in the same circuit. A
peculiarly novel feature of the Farmer- Wallace system is the shape of
the carbons. Instead of rods two large plates of carbons with beveled
edges are employed, one above the other. The electric discharge passes
from edge to edge, and shifts its position according as the carbon is
dissipated. The duration of the light in this case far exceeds that ob-
tainable with rods. I have myself seen four of these lights in "the same
circuit in Mr. Ladd's workshop in the city, and they are now, I believe,
employed at the Liverpool Street Station of the Metropolitan Railway.
The Farmer- Wall ace " quantity machine " pours forth a flood of elec-
tricity of low tension. It is unable to cross the interval necessary for
the production of the electric light, but it can fuse thick copper wires.
When sent through a short bar of iridium, this refractory metal emits a
light of extraordinary sj^lendor.*

The machine of M. de Meritens, which he has generously brought
over from Paris for our instruction, is the newest of all. In its con-
struction he falls back upon the principle of the magneto-electric ma-
chine, employing permanent magnets as the exciters of the induced
currents. Using the magnets of the Alliance Company, by a skillful
disposition of his bobbins, M. de Meritens produces with eight magnets
a light equal to that produced by forty magnets in the Alliance ma-
chines. While the space occupied is only one fifth, the cost is little
more than one fourth that of the latter. In the De Meritens machine
the commutator is abolished. The internal heat is hardly sensible, and
the absorption of power, in relation to the effects produced, is small.
With his larger machines M. de Meritens maintains a considerable num-
ber of lio-hts in the same circuit.''

o

In relation to this subject inventors fall into two classes, the con-
trivers of regulators and the constructors of machines. M. Rapieff has
hitherto belonged to inventors of the first class, but I have reason to

' The iridium light was shown by Mr. Ladd. It brilliantly illuminated the theatre of
the Koyal Institution.

^ The small machine transforms one and a quarter horse-power into heat and light,
yielding about 1,900 candles ; the large machine transforms five horse-power, yielding
about 9,000 candles.

566 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

know that he is engaged on a machine which, when complete, will place
him in the other class also. Instead of two single carbon rods, M.
RapieflF employs two pairs of rods, each pair forming a V. The light
is produced at the common junction of the four carbons. The device
for regulating the light is of the simplest character. At the bottom of
the stand which supports the carbons are two small electro-magnets.
One of them, when the current passes, draws the carbons together, and
in so doing throws itself out of circuit, leaving the control of the light
to the other. The carbons are caused to approach each other by a de-
scending weight, which acts in conjunction with the electro-magtiet.
Through the liberality of the proprietors of the " Times " every facility
has been given to M. Rapieff to develop and simplify his invention at
Printing House Square. The illumination of the press-room, which I
had the pleasure of witnessing, under the guidance of M. RapiefF him-
self, is extremely effectual and agreeable to the eye. There are, I be-
lieve, five lamps in the same circuit, and the regulators are so devised
that the extinction of any lamp does not compromise the action of the
others. M. Rapieff has lately improved his regulator.

Many other inventors might here be named, and fresh ones are daily
crowding in. Mr. Werdermann has been long known in connection
with this subject. Employing as negative carbon a disk, and as posi-
tive carbon a rod, he has, I am assured, obtained very satisfactory re-
sults. The small resistances brought into play by his minute arcs
enable Mr. Werdermann to introduce a number of lamps into a circuit
traversed by a current of only moderate electro-motive power. M.
Reynier is also the inventor of a very beautiful little lamp, in which the
point of a thin carbon rod, properly adjusted, is caused to touch the
circumference of a carbon wheel which rotates underneath the point.
The light is developed at the place of contact of rod and wheel. One
of the last steps, though I am informed not quite the last, in the im-
provement of regulators is this : The positive carbon wastes more pro-
fusely than the negative, and this is alleged to be due to the greater
heat of the former. It occurred to Mr. William Siemens to chill the
negative artificially, with the view of diminishing or wholly preventing
its waste. This he accomplishes by making the negative pole a hollow
cone of copper, and by ingeniously discharging a small jet of cold water
against the interior of the cone. His negative of copper is thus caused
to remain fixed in space, for it is not dissipated, the positive carbon only
needing control. I have seen this lamp in action, and can bear witness
to its success.

I might go on to other inventions, achieved or projected. Indeed,
there is something bewildering in the recent rush of constructive talent
into this domain of applied electricity. The question and its prospects
are modified from day to day, a steady advance being made toward the
improvement both of machines and regulators. With regard to our
public lighting, I strongly lean to the opinion that the electric light

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 567

will at no distant day triumph over gas. I am not so sure that it will
do so in our j^rivate houses. As, however, I am anxious to avoid drop-
ping a word here that could influence the share market in the slightest
degree, I limit myself to this general statement of opinion.

To one inventor in particular belongs the honor of the idea, and the
realization of the idea, of causing the carbon rods to burn away like a
candle. It is needless for me to say that I here refer to the young
Russian officer, M. Jablochkoff. He sets two carbon rods upright at a
small distance apart, and fills the space between them with an insulat-
ing substance like plaster of Paris. The carbon rods are fixed in metal-
lic holders. A momentary contact is established between the two car-
bons by a little cross-piece of the same substance placed horizontally
from top to top. This cross-piece is immediately dissipated or removed
by the current, the passage of which once established is afterward
maintained. The carbons gradually waste, while the substance between
them melts like the wax of a candle. The comparison, however, only
holds good for the act of melting ; for, as regards the current, the in-
sulating plaster is practically inert. Indeed, as proved by M. Rapieff
and Mr. Wilde, the plaster may be dispensed with altogether, the cur-
rent passing from point to point between the naked carbons. M. de
Meritens has recently brought out a new candle, in which the plaster is
abandoned, while between the two principal carbons is placed a third
insulated rod of the same material. With the small De Meritens ma-
chine two of these candles can be lighted before you ; they produce a
very brilliant light.' In the Jablochkoff candle it is necessary that the
carbons should be consumed at the same rate. Hence the necessity for
alternating currents by which this equal consumption is secured. It
will be seen that M. Jablochkoff has abolished reo-ulators altosfether,
introducing the candle principle in their stead. In my judgment, the
performance of the Jablochkoff candle on the Thames Embankment and
the Holborn Viaduct is highly creditable, notwithstanding a consider-
able waste of light toward the sky. The Jablochkoff lamps, it may be
added, would be more effective in a street, where their light would be
scattered abroad by the adjacent houses, than in the positions which
they now occupy in London.

It was my custom some years ago, whenever I needed a new and
complicated instrument, to sit down beside its proposed constructor,
and to talk the matter over with him. The study of the inventor's
mind which this habit opened out was always of the highest interest to
me. I particularly well remember the impression made upon me on
such occasions by the late Mr. Darker, a philosophical instrument maker
in Lambeth. This man's life was a struggle, and the reason of it was

' Both the machines of M. de Meritens and the Farmer-Wallace machine were worked
by an excellent gas-engine, lent for the occasion by the Messrs. Crossley, of Manchester.
The Siemens machine was worked by steam.

568 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

not far to seek. No matter how commercially lucrative the work upon
which he was engaged might be, he would instantly turn aside from it
to seize and realize the ideas of a scientific man. He had an inventor's
power, and an inventor's delight in its exercise. The late Mr. Becker
possessed the same power in a very considerable degree. On the Con-
tinent, Froment, Breguet, Sauerwald, and others might be mentioned
as eminent instances of ability of this kind. Such minds resemble a
liquid on the point of crystallization. Stirred by a hint, crystals of con-
structive thought immediately shoot through them. That Mr. Edison
possesses this intuitive power in no common measure is proved by what
he has already accomplished. He has the penetration to seize the re-
lationship of facts and principles, and the art to reduce them to novel
and concrete combinations. Hence, though he has thus far accomplished
nothing that we can recognize as new in relation to the electric light,
an adverse opinion as to his ability to solve the complicated problem
on which he is engaged would be unwarranted.

I will endeavor to illustrate in a simple manner Mr. Edison's alleged
mode of electric illumination, taking advantage of what Ohm has taught
us regarding the laws of the current, and what Joule has taught us re-
garding the relation of resistance to the development of light and heat.
From one end of a voltaic battery runs a wire, dividing at a certain
point into two branches which reunite in a single wire connected with
the other end of the battery. From the positive end of the battery the
current passes first through the single wire to the point of junction,
where it divides itself between the branches according to a well-known
law. If the branches be equally resistant, the current divides itself
equally between them. If one branch be less resistant than the other,
more than half the current will choose the freer path. The strict law
is that the quantity of current is inversely proportional to the resistance.
A clear image of the process is derived from the deportment of water.
When a river meets an island it divides, passing right and left of the
obstacle, and afterward reuniting. If the two branch beds be equal in
depth, width, and inclination, the water will divide itself equally be-
tween them. If they be unequal, the larger quantity of water will flow
through the more open course. And as, in the case of the water, we
may have an indefinite number of islands producing an indefinite sub-
division of the trunk stream, so in the case of electricity we may have,
instead of two branches, any number of branches, the current dividing
itself among them, in accordance with the law which fixes the relation
of flow to resistance.

Let us apply this knowledge. Suppose an insulated copper rod,
which we may call an " electric main," to be laid down along one of
our streets, say along the Strand. Let this rod be connected with one
end of a powerful voltaic battery, a good metallic connection being
established between the other end of the battery and the gas-pipes
under the street. As lono- as the electric main continues unconnected

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 569

with the gas-pipes, the circuit is incomplete and no current will flow ;
but if any part of the main, however distant from the battery, be con-
nected with the adjacent gas-pipes, the circuit will be completed and
the current will flow. Supposing our battery to be at Charing Cross,
and our rod of copper to be tapped opposite Somerset House, a branch
wire can be carried from the rod into the building, the current passing
through which may be subdivided into any number of subordinate
branches which reunite afterward and return through the gas-pipes to
the battery. The branch currents may be employed to raise to vivid
incandescence a refractory metal like iridium or one of its alloys.
Instead of being tapped at one point, our main may be tapped at one
hundred points. The current will divide in strict accordance wuth law,
its power to produce light being solely limited by its strength. The
process of division closely resembles the circulation of the blood ; the
electric main carrying the outgoing current Kepresenting a great artery,
the gas-pipes carrying the return current representing a great vein,
while the intermediate branches represent the various vessels by which
the blood is distributed through the system. This, if I understand
aright, is Mr. Edison's proposed mode of illumination. The electric force
is at hand. Metals sufficiently refractory to bear being raised to vivid
incandescence are also within reach. The principles which regulate the
division of the current and the development of its light and heat are
perfectly well known. There is no room for a " discovery," in the sci-
entiBc sense of the term, but there is ample room for the exercise of
that mechanical ingenuity which has given us the sewing-machine and
so many other useful inventions, and which engages a greater number
of minds in the United States than in any other nation in the world.
Knowing something of the intricacj'^ of the practical problem, I should
certainly prefer seeing it in Mr. Edison's hands than in mine.*

It is sometimes stated as a recommendation to the electric light, that
it is light without heat ; but to disprove this it is only necessary to
point to the experiments of Davy, which show that the heat of the vol-
taic arc transcends that of any other terrestrial source. The emission
from the carbon points is capable of accurate analysis. To simplify
the subject, we will take the case of a platinum wire at first slightly
warmed by the current, and then, through the gradual augmentation
of the latter, raised to a white heat. When first warmed, the wire
sends forth rays which have no power on the optic nerve. They are
what we call invisible rays; and not untU the temperature of the wire
has reached nearly 1,000° Fahr. does it begin to glow with a faint, red
light. The rays which it emits prior to redness are all iisvisible rays,
which can warm the hand but can not excite vision. When the tem-
perature of the wire is raised to whiteness these dark rays not only
persist, but they are enormously augmented in intensity. They consti-

* More than thirty years ago the radiation from incandescent platinum was admirably
investigated by Dr. Draper, of New York.
VOL. XIV. — 37

570 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tute about 95 per cent, of the total radiation from the white-hot plati-
num wire. They make up nearly 90 per cent, of the emission from a
brilliant electric light. You can by no means have the light of the
carbons without this invisible emission as an accompaniment. The
visible radiation is, as it were, built upon the invisible as its necessary
foundation.

It is easy to illustrate the growth in intensity of these invisible
raj'S as the visible ones enter the radiation and augment in power. The
transparency of the simple gases and metalloids — of oxygen, hydro-
gen, nitrogen, chlorine, iodine, bromine, sulphur, phosphorus, and even
of carbon — for the invisible heat-rays is extraordinary. Dissolved in a
proper vehicle iodine cuts the visible radiation sharply off, but allows
the invisible free transmission. By dissolving iodine in sulphur. Pro-
fessor Dewar has recently added to the number of our effectual ray-
filters. The mixture may be made as black as pitch for the visible,
while remaining transparent for the invisible rays. Yiy such filters it is
possible to detach the invisible rays from the total radiation, and to watch
their augmentation as the light increases. Expressing the radiation from
a platinum wire when it first feels warm to the touch — when, therefore,
all its rays are invisible — by the number one, the invisible radiation from
the same wire raised to a white heat may be five hundred or more. It
is not, then, by the diminution or transformation of the non-luminous
emission that we obtain the luminous ; the heat-rays maintain their
ground as the necessary antecedents and companions of the light-rays.
When detached and concentrated these powerful heat-rays can produce
all the effects ascribed to the mirrors of Archimedes at the siege of Syra-
cuse. While incompetent to produce the faintest glimmer of light, or to
effect the most delicate air-thermometer, they will inflame paper, burn up
wood, and even ignite combustible metals. When they impinge upon
a metal refractory enough to bear their shock without fusion, they can
raise it to a heat so white and luminous as to yield, when analyzed, all
the colors of the spectrum. In this way the dark rays emitted by the
incandescent carbons are converted into light rays of all colors. Still,
so powerless are these invisible rays to excite vision that the eye has
been placed at a focus competent to raise platinum-foil to bright red-
ness without experiencing any visual impression. Light for light, no
doubt, the amount of heat imparted by the incandescent carbons to the
air is far less than that imparted by gas-flames. It is less because of
the smaller size of the carbons, and of the comparative smallness of the
quantity of fuel consumed in a given time. It is also less because the
air can not penetrate the carbons as it penetrates a flame. The tem-
perature of the flame is lowered by the admixture of a gas which con-
stitutes four fifths of our atmosphere, and which, while it appropriates
and diffuses the heat, does not aid in the combustion ; and this lower-
ing of the temperature by the inert atmospheric nitrogen renders
necessary the combustion of a greater amount of gas to produce the

THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 571

necessary light. In fact, though the statement may appear paradoxi-
cal, it is entirely because of its enormous actual temperature that the
electric light seems so cool. It is this temperature that renders the
proportion of luminous to non-luminous heat greater in the electric
light than in our brightest flames. The electric light, moreover, re-
quires no air to sustain it. It glows in the most perfect air-vacuum.
Its light and heat are therefore not purchased at the expense of the
vitalizing constituent of the atmosphere. It sheds its light without
vitiating the air.

Two orders of minds have been implicated in the development of
this subject : first, the investigator and discoverer, whose object is
purely scientific, and who cares little for practical ends ; secondly, the
practical mechanician, whose object is mainly industrial. It would be
easy, and probably in many cases true, to say that the one wants to
gain knowledge, while the other wants to make money ; but I am per-
suaded that the mechanician not unfrequently merges the hope of
profit in the love of his work. Members of each of these classes are
sometimes scornful toward those of the other. There is, for example,
something superb in the disdain with which Cuvier hands over the dis-
coveries of pure science to those who apply them : " Your grand prac-
tical achievements are only the easy apjolication of truths not sought
with a practical intent — truths which their discoverers pursued for their
own sake, impelled solely by an ardor for knowledge. Those who
turned them into practice could not have discovered them, while those
who discovered them had neither the time nor the inclination to pursue
them to a practical result. Your rising workshops, your peopled colo-
nies, your vessels Avhich furrow the seas ; this abundance, this luxury,
this tumult" — "this commotion," he would have added, were he now
alive, " regarding the electric light " — " all come from discoverers in
science, though all remain strange to them. The day that a discovery
enters the market they abandon it ; it concerns them no more."

In writing thus Cuvier probably did not sufficiently take into account
the reaction of the applications of science upon science itself. The im-
provement of an old instrument or the invention of a new one is often
tantamount to an enlargement and refinement of the senses of the sci-
entific investigator. Beyond this, the amelioration of the community
is also an object worthy of the best efforts of the human brain. Still,
assuredly it is well and wise for a nation to bear in mind that those
practical applications which strike the public eye, and excite public
admiration, are the outgrowth of long-antecedent labors begun, con-
tinued, and ended under the operation of a purely intellectual stimulus.
" Few," says Pasteur, " seem to comprehend the real origin of the mar-
vels of industry and the wealth of nations. I need no other proof of
this than the frequent employment in lectures, speeches, and official
language of the erroneous expression, ' applied science.' A statesman

572 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the greatest talent stated some time ago that in our day the reign
of theoretic science had rightly yielded place to that of applied science.
Nothing, I venture to say, could be more dangerous, even to practical
hfe, than the consequences which might flow from these words. They
show the imperious necessity of a reform in our higher education.
There exists no category of sciences to which the name of applied
science could be given. We have science and the aj^plications of
science which are united as tree and fruit."

A final reflection is here suggested. We have among us a small
cohort of social regenerators — men of high thoughts and aspirations —
who would place the operations of the scientific mind under the control
of a hierarchy which should dictate to the man of science the course
that he ought to pursue. How this hierarchy is to get its wisdom they
do not explain. They decry and denounce scientific theories ; they
scorn all reference to ether, and atoms, and molecules, as subjects
lying far apart from the world's needs ; and yet such ultra-sensible con-
cejDtions are often the spur to the greatest discoveries. The source, in
fact, from which the true natural philosopher derives inspiration and
unifying power is essentiallj' ideal. Faraday lived in this ideal world.
Nearly half a century ago, when he first obtained a spark from a mag-
net, an Oxford don expressed regret that such a discovery should have
been made, as it placed a new and facile implement in the hands of the
incendiary. To regret, a Comtist hierarchy would have probably added
repression, sending Faraday back to his bookbinder's bench as a more
dignified and practical sphere of action than piddling with a magnet-
And yet it is Faraday's spark which now shines upon our coasts, and
promises to illuminate our streets, halls, quays, squares, warehouses,
and, perhaps at no distant day, our homes.

THE AARD-YAEK OE EARTH-HOG.'

By E. OUSTALET.

IN the class Mammalia the order Edentata is one which ofi"ers a very
great diversity. To judge from their name, the Edentates should all
be animals without teeth ; yet, though some of them, as the ant-eater and
pangolin, offer this pecuKarity, others, on the contrary, as the sloth, the
armadillo, and the orycteropus or earth-hog, have the jaws provided with
organs of mastication, except the portion where the incisors should be.
Again, the nails which terminate the digits of the Edentata are some-
times sharp and hooked, so that the animal may climb easily and sus-
pend itself from the branches of trees ; again, they are spade-shaped,
so that the animal may excavate the ground. Finally, while in some
' Translated from " La Nature," by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

THE AARD-VARK OR EARTH-HOG. 573

the integument is reenforced by bony concretions, in others it is cov-
ered with imbricate scales, in others clothed with coarse hairs, and in
others still perfectly nude. From all this it results that naturalists are
greatly puzzled when they have to name the general characteristics of
the order. Nevertheless, it may be said that these mammals bear in
their skeleton and in the arrangement of their viscera certain signs of
inferiority ; that their salivary glands are highly developed, a fact ac-
counted for by their insectivorous diet ; and that in their circulatory
system they present some peculiar features, certain interlacings of the
blood-vessels which regulate the flow of the blood to the limbs, which
latter usually move with extreme slowness. Furthermore, it may be
added that, in Edentata with teeth, those organs have a peculiar aspect,
being for the most part void of enamel, and, to all appearance, consist-
ing of a number of cylinders standing side by side.

In the animal world as at present constituted the Edentata are all
of medium or even small size ; but in former geological epochs they
attained very considerable dimensions, rivaling even the elephant. The
megatherium, whose bones have been found in Buenos Ayres, was 4^
metres (14f feet) in length, and %^ metres (6;^ feet) in height ; and the
megalonyx and the mylodon, found in the same locality, were also of
gigantic proportions. And it is curioufe to observe that America, where
the remains of these great creatures are found, is still the continent
which possesses the greatest abundance of animals belonging to this
order. The Old World, on the other hand, possesses only a few spe-
cies, and Australia none at all, the part of the Edentata being in that
strange country played by the Monotremata, Echidna, and Ornitho-
rhynchi.

Some species of the Edentata are well known to our readers. The
armadillo and the pangolin are common in our zoological gardens ; the
ant-eater and the sloth are to be seen there too, though far more rarely.
But besides these familiar species, there are others which, till recent
times, were all unknown in menageries, and of which but a very imper-
fect idea could be formed from the stuffed specimens in the public col-
lections. To this class belongs especially the orycteropus, or earth-hog,
a curious sort of Edentate from tropical Africa, which several travelers,
and among them Von Heuglin, had vainly tried to carry to Europe
alive. Two or three months ago, however, the Paris Museum of Nat-
ural History was so fortunate as to secure an animal of this genus. It
is quartered in the monkey-house, sheltered from the cold, and there, no
doubt, it will be able to live for some time to come in captivity.

The traveler Kolbe, about the middle of the eighteenth century, was
the first to publish some notices of the orycteropus, already known even
at that time to the Dutch settlers under the name of aard-vark (earth-
hog) ; a little later Camper procured the skull of one of these animals,
and studied its osteological character ; but to iStienne GeofiFroy Saint-
Hilaire belongs the credit of having clearly pointed out the essential

574

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

differences which distinguish the orycteropi from the ant-eaters of the
American Continent.

The specimens in our museums and the engravings hitherto pub-
lished in works of natural history give a very imperfect idea of the
orycteropus. In the stuffed specimens — the only models the designer

had at his command — the skin was greatly distended, and the body was
disproportionately long. As will be seen from the accompanying figure,
drawn from life, the orycteropus is, on the contrary, of heavy build,

THE AARD-VARK OR EARTH-HOG. 575

with arched back, like a pig, which animal it further resembles in that
its skin is sparsely strewed with hairs. But its very long ears, instead
of being pendent like those of the pig, rise like horns on both sides of
the head ; neither is the tail slender or twisted into a corkscrew curl ;
on the contrary, it is of conical shape and very thick at the base.
Finally, the rather elongated head, terminating in a regular snout, has
at its extremity a buccal opening rather larger than in the ant-eater,
but yet far smaller than in swine. The teeth, numbering five or six
pairs in the lower jaw and six or seven in the upper, increase in size
from the first to the one before the last on each side. Their structure
is peculiar, being far less dense than in most Mammalia, and having no
coating of enamel. The grinding surface is flattened, and the single
root is pierced with a number of holes in its periphery. The slender,
protractile tongue is, as in nearly all of the Edentata, covered with a
viscous substance designed to secure the small insects on which the ani-
mal lives. The short, heavy feet terminate, the anterior in four digits,
the posterior in five, all armed with strong, hoof -like claws. In the pos-
terior feet, as in the anterior, the external lateral digits are a little
shorter than the others.

The family Orycteropidm comprises only a single genus, in which
we can, not without much difficulty, distinguish three species, viz. : the
Cape orycteropus or earth-hog, the one first known ; the orycteropus
of Senegambia, described by Lesson ; and the orycteropus of Ethiopia,
studied by D'Abbadie and D'Arnaud on the banks of the White Nile.
These three species are identical in their habits, of nearly the same size,
1'3 metre (about h\ feet) from the snout to the extremity of the skin,
and of the same general form ; they differ only in the proportions of
the cranium and of the limbs, and in the color and appearance of the
skin. Thus, in the Cape orycteropus, for instance, the surface of the
body presents a scanty covering of straight, soft hairs, which are shorter
on the back than on the belly. In the orycteropus of Ethiopia, on the
other hand, the skin is almost perfectly nude, with merely a few strag-
gling, brownish hairs on the ears, the tail, and the base of the limbs.
To this species belongs the individual recently acquired for the Jardin
des Plantes, and of which our figure is a faithful portrait. It will be
seen that the body is swollen like a full skin-bottle, and furrowed with
creases which radiate from the abdominal region between the paws.
The latter are of enormous size, and the tail, which is soft and flabby,
falls to the ground by its own weight. The general appearance of the
animal is at once mean and grotesque. Looked at from behind, it re-
sembles a bag, the long ears projecting on each side being the ends of
the string by which the mouth of the bag is tied.

This orycteropus lives in pairs in the plains of Kordofan, where it is
called by the Arabs ahuclelatif, i. e., "the father that owns claws." In
the daytime it lies hidden and doubled up in a deep hole, which it digs in
the loose soil of the plain by means of its broad, sharp claws. Toward

576 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

evening it quits this hiding-place and begins to move about, advancing
either by leaps, or else with an unsteady gait, walking nearly always on
the extremities of its digits. Whatever may have been written here-
tofore by naturalists, the orycteropus is in fact digitigrade rather than
plantigrade. When the animal is walking the head is inclined, the
snout nearly touching the ground, the ears laid half-way back, and the
tail trailing. From time to time the animal stops to listen : it is guided
principally by hearing and smell, and by the same means contrives to es-
cape from its enemies. On finding a path that has been traveled over
by ants or termites, it follows it up to the ant-hill ; having reached the
latter, it attacks the structure with its paws, making the dust fly all
around, and digging rapidly till it comes to the center, or at least to
one of the principal streets. Then, alternately exserting and retracting
its viscous tongue, it devours the ants by the thousands. Having made
an end of one nest it attacks another, and so on till its hunger is ap-
peased. When we consider the alarming rate at which ants and ter-
mites multiply, and the damage they cause, we must recognize in the
orycteropus one of the most efficient of man's auxiliaries in tropical
regions.

The orycteropi are extremely timid : at the slightest noise they try
to get underground. If they find no suitable hole or crevice, then
they quickly dig for themselves a hiding-place. The late J. Ver-
reaux, who had many a time observed orycteropi at the Cape, has told
me of how, having once seized by the tail one of them when it had
got but half of its body underground, he could not get the animal out
except by having the ground dug to a considerable depth. In eastern
Africa the negroes, approaching cautiously, kill the orycteropus by a
sudden thrust of a lance before it has time to disappear. In Senegal,
on the other hand, the animal is caught in iron traps, or hunted with
dogs by night. The skin of the animal is thick, and makes good, strong
leather. The flesh is by some travelers described as juicy, with a taste
like that of pork ; according to others it is disgusting, being strongly
impregnated with ant-odor. LevaiUant could never bring himself to eat
of it.

In captivity the orycteropus seems stupid, passing most of the day
in sleep, rolled up into a shapeless mass. The individual at the Jardin
des Plantes, since winter came in, never quits its nest till about five or
six o'clock in the evening. Then it begins to roam about its quar-
ters, returning constantly to the stove, where it warms itself with evi-
dent pleasure while it squats on its hind legs and keeps its snout
steadily pointed at the fire.

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM. S77

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM/

By Professor OSCAE SCHMIDT,

OF THE UNIVERSITY OF STEASBURG.

I MUST assume it to be generally known that in last year's Congress
of German Naturalists and Physicians, held at Munich, a prominent
member incidentally referred to the points of contact between Socialist
Democracy and Darwinism, as also to the momentous and redoubtable
consequences which might thence ensue. These words of certainly well-
meant admonition were received with delight by all those who in any
event can not tolerate the doctrine of descent, and who accordingly
heartily approved of making Darwinism responsible for the most ex-
citing social phenomenon of the time.

It is, of course, all right enough if certain representatives of Socialist
Democracy think they can with the aid of Darwinism add force to their
opinions ; but they jumble together doctrines which either are irrele-
vant, or which mutually exclude one another.

This fact, indeed, is recognized by another portion of the Socialist-
Democratic party, who hold that the socialistic idea must have sup-
planted the Darwinian principle as applied to the human race, before
the new form of society can be realized and made to stand.

The political economists have now for more than a century been
studying the " Struggle for Life " in its bearings on the weal or woe of
mankind^ yet not until the advent of Darwin did they consider the
problem understandingly. Under what forms individuals and classes com-
pete with one another ; in what way this struggle is to be ennobled for
the benefit of the race — these and other like questions are agitated on
all sides, as witness one work among many, namely, A, Lange's thought-
ful book, " On the Labor Question " (" Ueber die Arbeiterfrage "). It
is not, therefore, with this well-known point of contact with Darwinism
that we have to do, but with the special application of ostensibly Dar-
winian results to the justification and the execution of the Socialist-
Democratic programme.

Although it has been raining " Quintessences of Socialism " for the
instruction of the public, nevertheless we must briefly explain how far
Socialist Democracy, as realized in the future, purports to be the ulti-
mate term of a natural development.

Having passed through the period of absolute Inculture, a period
which might be roughly characterized by community life in troops and
minor family groups under the leadership of strong male individuals,
traces of which are found in the mammoth and reindeer caves, man
next entered the less rude condition of the hunter and the nomad where-

' Translated from the " Deutsche Rundschau," by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

578 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in those minor groups, now developed into clans, rose above the primor-
dial state by their complex organization, their division of labor, and
their larger enterprise. But now, as we read in the writings of the
Socialist Democrats, with distinction of classes and the institution of
personal slavery opens the first epoch of human civilization. In this
slavery period the whole man is an instrument of labor, and with all his
faculties he is the property of the owner who commands his entire
service.

In the second civilization period, characterized by handicraft and
the possession of land on the small scale, the still widely diffused cus-
tom of socage or compulsory service is a reminiscence of the suppressed
institution of slavery. The working people are now burgesses enjoying
personal freedom, yet hindered in their spontaneous development by
the guild. These craftsmen and workers of the soil are the owners and
masters of the implements of their calling. Still they do not attain
true enjoyment of life, inasmuch as their whole time is engrossed with
mechanical toil, in order to procure a livelihood.

The third estate becomes emancipated from the control of the aris-
tocracy of landlordism, the nobility, and the Church. But already the
factory system, the system of production by division of labor, was in
operation — a system which strips the workman of his little property,
and places him under the control of capital.

The factory system is transformed into machine industry. The sim-
pler tools and machinery of early times, worked by hand, have been in
the present century developed into a vast complicity of machines pro-
ducing motion, transferring motion, and doing the work of mechanical
tools. These machines tie the workman fast to themselves, reduce his
personal service to a minimum of manipulations, and complete the
physical and moral wretchedness of the laboring population by increased
employment of women and children.

Machinery is an instrument for the accumulation of capital, and of
capital as " unpaid labor " at that.

The development of the various forms of production down to the
present time when private capital rules everything, and when small
capitalists have no chance as against the great, has been vividly por-
trayed by Marx. He regards the development of the economic social
forms as a natural-history process. (" Capital," page 7.) The proposi-
tion on which the whole matter hinges, namely, that regarding " unpaid
labor," has the appearance of being so simple and so true, that even to
man}' among the laboring class the grand conclusion appears evident,
namely, that " the doom of capitalistic private property is about to be
sealed. The expropriators will suffer expropriation." (Ibid,, page
793.)

Here we see set forth as the natural consequence of development
the violent introduction of the Socialist-Democratic state. With the
rise of that form of polity the domination of private capital comes to

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM. 579

an end ; machinery is no longer private property, but it, witli all the
other instruments of production, with all that which is understood by
the term capital, is transformed into collective or state capital. Private
production gives place to collective production. With the abolition, not
indeed of all private property, but of all private capital in so far as
the same is employed as a means of production, universal participation
in the fruits of the collective production, in the means of enjoyment,
and in the higher good things of life, is accorded to the whole race, .

In this stage of future development the Socialist idea is fully real-
ized. We will not dwell any further on the happy state of things
which they say is sure to come about.

If any one would learn more concerning this " picture of fancy," as
Socialism is innocently named in one of its chief organs, he may con-
sult Leopold Jacoby's book, " The Idea of Development " (" Die Idee
der Entwickelung," 1874, page 6), where he will find it painted in
elowino- colors. Or he can o-et a notion of what it is from Engels's
most recent utterances (Eug. Duhring's " Science revolutionized " —
" Die Umwalzung der Wissenschaft," 1878).

It would be a great mistake to suppose that in the camp of the
Socialist Democrats we must find the state of the future represented
as a refined copy of a type belonging to the brute creation : on the
contrary, Socialistic writers stoutly maintain that the principle of
development implies reconstruction. Nevertheless, for the sake of
completeness, we will glance at the animal world and consider there
the relations between private and collective capital and private and col-
lective production.

Most animals labor for themselves alone. Their implements of labor
(private capital) are represented by their members and their weapons
of offense ; their gains they employ to sustain life. They gather not
into barns. Only among the higher classes of animals do we find asso-
ciation of labor and care on the part of the parents for the welfare of
their posterity — instincts which can be regarded as confirmed and in-
herited habits, for all these instinctive actions resolve themselves into
labor with gradually accumulated, inherited private capital.

The consociation of higher animals ma}' have the look of work in
common, and not instinctive, as for instance when wolves hunt in
packs to obtain food, or when animals graze in herds — a habit originat-
ing in the need of mutual protection. The colony structures of bea-
vers, the massed nests of the republican bird, are socialistic improve-
ments, in the case of the beaver made under unfavorable outward con-
ditions, and hence apparently the result of the animal's voluntary action.

Tins deceptive appearance is wanting in the structures of the infe-
rior animals, where societies are formed through propagation by bud-
din c, the progeny remaining connected with the mother organism. The
sino-le individual of a colony of polyps enjoys not only protection
against mechanical injuries in the polypidom secreted by all for all, but

D

80 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

further, in case its local position in the polypidorn is unfavorable for
taking in food, it is fed by the collective alimentary canal, into which
flows the surplus of the individual production. A still more compli-
cated social condition, with strict division of labor, is seen in the jelly-
fish known as the " Portuguese man-of-war."

I call attention to these familiar facts in order to show that in the
animal kingdom communism and socialism are all the more pronounced
the lower the organization of the groups among which they appear ;
and that, on the other hand, wherever among the higher animals con-
ditions occur which savor of the socialistic principle, in the division of
the results of the collective production, the egoism of the individual
appears all the stronger, I do not at all mean hence to conclude that
the case can not be otherwise in human society.

From the selflessness of the polyp to the egoism of the wolf is a
development. How this development has been brought about, and how
man must come under its action, Darwin teaches ; and Leopold Jacoby
tells us that the already quoted gospel of the Social Democracy, name-
ly, Marx's work on " Capital," is " a continuation and complement of
Darwin's ' Origin of Species ' and bis ' Descent of Man.' "

This same opinion was expressed one year earlier in " The People's
State " (" Der Volksstaat," 1873, No. 31), and it is now our task to
examine into its ground.

The only passage in which Marx himself speaks of any comple-
ment of Darwinism, though not in connection with his own researches,
but d propos of the need of a special history of technology, is where
he says : " Darwin has drawn attention to the history of natural tech-
nology, that is, the formation of plant and animal organs as produc-
tion-instruments for the life of animals and plants. Should not equal
attention be given to the history of the formation of the production-
organs of man in society, seeing that these organs are the material
basis of every special society organization ? " (" Capital," page 385.)

But the scientific method, that of proving by facts the relations be-
tween phenomena, is employed by Marx ; and in my opinion he is in
the right when he protests against the supposition that his dialectic
method is at bottom Hegelian. But neither does he collect all the
facts — for example, he knows only on the one hand the oppressor and
the extortioner, and on the other their victims reduced to misery — nor
does he refrain from gratuitous assumptions, as for instance that of
the " Unpaid Labor," the most momentous of them all. Again, it hap-
pens that, from his not understanding the results of the doctrine of
development, the true and actual relations of sociology to Darwinism
are hidden from him. For example, he says that " in reality each spe-
cial historic mode of production has its own special and historically valid
laws of population. An abstract law of population holds for plants
and animals only in so far as man does not interfere."

Engels, in the work already quoted (page 491), repeats a similar

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM. 581

proposition ; but it is not correct, if we use the term " law " in the
one sense permitted by exact natural science. The conditions of prop-
agation among plants and animals, the results of their multiplication,
vary according to circumstances; and man with his experiments in
breeding does not correct Nature, he only copies her. It is plainly out
of the question here to speak of laws of population ; it were better
instead to say that the conditions of population in each period are the
effects of special, variable causes peculiar to each stage of develop-
ment. Cases which are the result of varying circumstances and events
are not laws, nor do they justify us in inferring fixed laws.

The attempt has been made, not indeed by Marx himself, but by
one of his followers, Leopold Jacoby, to connect logically, in one con-
tinuous process, social evolution and its ultimate term, the Socialist-
Democratic ideal, with nature's evolution.

He does the impossible with a sophistical argumentation that re-
minds us of Hegel's dialectic : he is an enthusiast, but it is not for me
to pass judgment on his services to Socialist Democracy. Plainly he
is an enfant terrible for his party. His scientific ideas are of the nar-
rowest kind. Nevertheless, we must reckon with him, since he is the
only Socialist-Democrat writer who makes any pretense to observe sci-
entific method in this matter, i. e., the connection between the theory
of development and Socialist Democracy. We will later consider En-
gels's relation to that subject.

Social evolution is nowadays represented by the leaders of Socialist
Democracy as being a process of perfectionment necessarily progressing
toward a definite end ; and as, rightly enough, they do not divorce man
from nature, it is plainly their purpose to discover oneness and conti-
nuity in social and in natural evolution.

Revolution, say the Social Democrats, is correction of perverted
conditions or re-formation for the sake of improvement. Copernicus
happily expressed this idea when he gave to his work which upset the
astronomical notions of his time the title " De Revolutionibus." It is
of no consequence whatever that this is not the true title of the book,
but " De Orbium Coelestium Revolutionibus," or that " revolutio "
means a turning round and not an overturning.

In short, in these revolutions, as the Socialist-Democratic philosophy
further teaches, " we recognize an ever self-perfecting origination and
formation of things in the universe " : so much we learn from Kant
and Laplace. Then came Lamarck with the " doctrine of the continu-
ous and successive development of organic beings on the earth," but for
half a century he failed to obtain a hearing till Darwin procured for the
doctrine full acceptance. Thus we have to thank Lamarck and Darwin
for the fact that we understand the nature of the two great " revolu-
tions," whereof the one produced the existence of organisms in the
transition of the inorganic into the organic, while the idea of the other
had for its object the appearance of man.

5 8 2 THE P OP ULAR S CIENCE MONTHL Y.

Thus the philosophy of Social Democracy resembles that of Plato,
in teaching that the idea hovers over the bodily form. It is the idea
that dominates everywhere, determining the forms of all things. Hence,
down to the advent of man there was in nature a steady, thorough, un-
conscious striving.

And here comes in another great revolution, the third — viz., the
universal apparition of the consciousness of the human race, the philo-
sophical establishment of which is the task which Marx has set him-
self. Thus, then, as we read in the " Volksstaat" {uhi suprci)^ "Dar-
win and Marx have, by their profound and ingenious researches, carried
on in totally different scientific fields, attained results of the utmost
importance to mankind, and which, being intimately correlated, mutually
support and complement one another."

As Social Democracy holds the accomplishment of its ends to be
inevitable and necessary, so, as we have seen, it is one of its cardinal
principles that all the phenomena which take place in matter, and all
developments of matter, are prefigured and predetermined in the idea.
The honest workingman thus learns that a statue is less successful, the
less conscious the sculptor was of the idea of the work of beauty in-
herent in the marble block, and the more he suffered himself during his
labor to be influenced by considerations of profit and the like. " In
this example of the sculptor and his work, we have," says Jacoby, " a
direct proof (direct proof !) of the truth of the proposition that ideas
are contained in unconscious nature."

I shall be asked whether the utterances just recounted represent the
sympathy between Socialist Democracy and Darwinism — whether these
abstract and rather curious and confused theses and propositions repre-
sent the dangerous elements, that is, the politically dangerous elements
imported into Socialist Democracy from the development theory.

With a few additions, which we will make further on, they do !

How, then, does Darwinism stand with respect to these cardinal ideas
of the socialistic develo^^ment doctrine, as laid down by a philosopher
of that school ?

"We find here two ideas wherein Socialist Democracy purports to be
at one with the scientific doctrine of Evolution, viz.. Development or
Revolution is re-formation — i. e., correction of perverted conditions ;
and All development has for its basis an idea which designates the future
goal, and which governs the movement toward the same. In themselves
these propositions are plainly innocent enovigh, and if they were a re-
sult of Darwinian research, they need not be disowned. But Darwinism
disclaims the honor of having established any such principles.

What we call origin^ or development of species^ is in the first place
not a reversal of perverted conditions. In such play upon words we
have never indulged. The Darwinian principle of development is Nat-
ural Selection, and people are not wont to select from perverted tj^pes.
It is true that the struggle amid which selection goes on includes also

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM. 583

the struggle against wrong, Avhen it is waged consciously, but generally
it is a struggle against environment.

We have first to take into consideration the downfall of the one
that struggles. But nature, or if you choose the law of nature, recog-
nizes here no distinction of right and wrong : the question is purely one
of mio-ht. That one is defeated who possesses the least means, the least
amount of fight-capital, however sufficient and abundant the same might
be under circumstances different from those here and now prevailing.
Certainly no scientific man has ever dreamed of subsuming this case
under the Hegelian, phrases evil — good, negation — position, perversion
— correction, etc.

The opposite of this first instance of the outcome of the struggle for
existence is seen where one party, by a process of gradual perfection-
ment, prevails over its opponents and the environment. To the philoso-
pher who is searching for analogies, this appears to be the practical ful-
fillment of the idea of perfectionment. Still, these two extremes do by
no means exhaust every possible termination of the struggle ; for there
is another possible issue — one which, though it be overlooked by the
Socialist-Democrat philosophers, is nevertheless of enormously frequent
occurrence : the organism that makes the struggle adapts itself to the
environment. In doing this, it must oftentimes pass through such
straits that it parts with some of its perfections and falls to a lower
grade, like many a European baron who has in America found use for
himself as a cook's assistant. Or it so remolds itself and its habits in
adapting itself to the environment that, while it in no wise becomes
more perfect, it nevertheless, as far as possible, insures for the future
its present rank.

Thus, to illustrate by an example, it has been observed that, as a
rule, birds of brilliant plumage, which on that very account are more
conspicuous objects to their enemies, are far more careful to conceal
their nests than birds which^are not so conspicuous. This we explain
on the theory that the ancestors of the bright-colored species by degrees
became wise by experience, and that this experience, reenforced by
habit, was transmitted to their progeny by heredity. Natural selec-
tion keeps pace with experience and habit. In the case of these birds,
the change in nesting is a step of progress, but they have not thereby
gained any perfection.

If in the historic evolution of organic nature we saw progress only,
we should be strongly tempted to regard progress, pure and simple, as
a universal natural law for social development as well. But the lesson
taught us by birds of brilliant plumage (to say nothing of the loss of
acquired perfection) is repeated throughout the whole world of lowly
and lowest organisms. These have stood stock-still and must so remain,
despite the perfection attained in many directions. The persistence of
the low and the imperfect finds its very simple explanation in the per-
sistence of its universally prevailing life-conditions. Millions and mil-

584 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lions of lowly species have perished one after another, giving way to
better, i. e., to stronger ; and many millions whose slightly variant
ancestors escaped from their enemies and rivals have survived. A sea
peopled only by fishes, or the land only by mammals, is something
unnatural. Thus, the imperfect endures; the perfect, the homogeneous,
left to itself alone, becomes self- destructive, as the New-Zealanders
began to prey on each other so soon as they had exterminated their
only edible wild animal, the dinornis.

In short, Darwinism shows that the evolution of organic life is not
to be summed up in a few abstract formula. It calls attention to the
fact that with the gradual succession of species goes on, with other
movements, a slow perfectionment in different directions ; and this
necessary but yet only partial progress it seeks to explain by " selec-
tion of the fittest " in the decay or the backwardness of less gifted
individuals and species.

In the vjhole system of Darioinism we find, unfortunately, no hint
of a law which shall in advance determine this perfectionment ; and it
is laughable to observe how, on the one side, people are complaining
that we set up Chance on a throne as a universal principle, while, on
the other side, people are making the discovery that the guiding prin-
ciples of the Socialist Democrats, those principles which are shaping
the future, are corollaries of the theory of development.

The strength of the Socialist-Democratic teaching lies in this, that
the candidates and members of the party, men unpracticed in logical
thinking, are sternly schooled in a few principles, and taught to regard
the actualization of the idea as something necessary ex necessitate rei.
The fundamental mistake of supposing that Social Democracy has any
point of contact with Darwinism arises, as we have explained, out of
the supposition that Darwinism too has brought to light ideas which
govern organic transformation — such ideas as are supposed to be
necessary for calling forth social revolutions.

The Socialist Democrats do away, after their own fashion, with the
personal Godhead, and for this, of course, " atheistic science " is held
to answer. In L. Jacoby's work we read :

We call the idea the foreknown existence of the emboflied total result of a
progressive re-formation. But this foreknowledge can exist in no other way
save this, that the thing to which we grant the idea has itself been carried into the
progressive re-formation ; and from this knowledge follows the other side of the
essence of the idea, namely, the being dominated by the idea, the being forcibly
moved by the idea in a given direction. If to these first organisms we allow the
idea of Man, we ijyso facto recognize their domination by this idea ; in other
words, we see how they have been constrained so to transform themselves as
finally to produce from themselves man.

This thought, stripped of the studied verbiage in which it is here
invested, has very generally become rooted in the minds of the Socialist
Democrats. In this way they have set up, in the place of a personal

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM. 585

God, a sort of infallible bugbear under the guise of an Omnipotent Idea.
The whole thing is misty, mystic, supernatural, in no sense scientific,
least of all is it a Darwinian explication of facts.

Daricinism holds the exact opposite of all this, maintaining that
development does not proceed according to ideas. Darwinism sees in
nature only forces, laws, causes, and effects. Ideas it must for the
present leave to the philosophers ; and, moreover, it has absolutely no
points of contact Avith the doctrine of ideas contained in the Socialist-
Democrat catechism. Hence, when the Socialist Democracy bases the
realization of its ideal on the fact that men who are conscious of the
impelling ideas must irresistibly push on the work, and so carries the
masses on into a belief in these ideas, it must itself be held responsible.
As for Darwinism, it gives no encouragement to such imaginings, and
hence must, in this respect, be simply indifferent for all, whether they
hate Social Democracy or whether they love it.

But there is a category of scientific men who look on the origin of
species as a development of the higher out of the lower ; who find the
Darwinian principle insufficient ; who will have nothing unaccounted
for, and who therefore conceal their ignorance under such phrases as
" tendency to perfection " or " aiming at an end." I might also refer to
the " Philosophy of the Unconscious " — now, as I believe, in process of
decay — a philosophy which, whenever it knows not how to explain
anything, solemnly invokes the aid of its " Unconscious." Between
these muddled auxiliaries and the Socialist Democrat's " ideas which
govern revolutions and determine the re-formation of perverted con-
ditions," there exists an unmistakable though perhaps " unconscious "
relationship.

There is, then, a point of contact between Socialist Democracy and
Darwinism ; but, as far as we have examined it, it is seen to rest on
erroneous suppositions and ignorance of the essence of the development
doctrine. So far we have found it concerned only with a few theoretical
propositions ; and we have had nothing to say about the practical
realization of the Socialistic idea, or of the doctrines which might
perhaps be borrowed from Darwinism to add to it strength.

The Socialist Democrats are unanimous in expressing discontent
with tlie social conditions at present existing. But with respect to the
specific organization of society in the future their leaders are very
reticent. So much is certain, that the great mass of the workingmen,
who now have to sell their entire strength for wages that merely suf-
fice to support life, will in the future perform no so-called " unpaid
labor." They will have a share in those higher enjoyments the pre-
requisite condition of which is a higher mental development. Oppor-
tunity for attaining this is afforded every one in the Socialist-Democratic
state, by a considerable shortening of the hours of purely mechanical
toil, and by opening perfectly free schools of every grade. When the
whole population has been in this way refined, there is no longer

TOL. XIV. — 38

586 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

question of the " rude physical struggle for existence." For since in
the time to come each individual will develop his reason, and reason
can not endure perversion or wrong, each will labor for all and all for
each. Whether, instead of the present division of labor, there will be
an arrangement having the same effect, but based on personal inclina-
tion and jDersonal fitness (" Zukunft," 1878, page 704) ; or whether the
system of alternation of work will be introduced, so that, as Engels
would have it {iibi supra, page 173), the man who in the forenoon wheels
a barrow is an architect in the afternoon ; what is to be done when
no workmen offer themselves for certain kinds of labor, while for other
kinds there are too many ; whether and how the workman is to be
entitled to a certain measure of the means of enjoyment according to
the nature of his work, or the exertions he puts forth, or his individual
needs : these are all open questions. The amicable settlement of
these questions presupposes, as we have already observed, a general
physical and moral elevation of the individual, of which the present
mean intellectual status is but a faint foretaste.

Thus Socialist Democracy demands a more equitable general division
of the good things of life, that every one shall have a share in life's
pleasures, and it aims to demonstrate the justice and the naturalness of
the claim. We are interested in it, inasmuch as appeal is made to
Darwinism for its establishment.

The revolution which goes on quietly in Christendom has appealed
to the equality which exists beyond the grave. The Revolution of 1789
was more practical, and championed the natural right of the Third
Estate — the right of equality and fraternity here on earth. What it
was that gave this direction to the revolution, and how it expounded
the return to nature and to the truth of which so much was then said,
is sufficiently well known. Now, again, as the Socialist Democracy is
not alone in affirming, and truly enough too perhaps, we stand on the
threshold of a social overturning. Again there is question of an appeal
to be made to the inborn rights of man. Next after the basic idea con-
trolling revolution, of which we have already spoken, the Socialistic pro-
gramme, like the programme of all revolutions which proceed from a
general state of distress, insists on the restoration of that equality
which is the strictly natural right of every man, but which has been
lost, owing to unnatural and perverted social conditions.

The Socialist Democrats are not content wath Brentano's view, that
humanity's goal is perfection, nor with Held's, that the ideal end of
progress is the highest perfectionment of all. Hence they have enlarged
the idea of perfectionment by making it include a reduction of labor
and an increase of bodily and intellectual enjoyment. That, in the
event of a refusal to recognize the justice of this demand, force would
be employed to complete its demonstration, is expressed without
ambiguity. But it is easy to see how Avelcome it would be to the
leaders of the movement could biology be ranged on their side, and

SCIENCE AND SOCIALISM. 587

could Darwinism, " carried out to its logical conclusions," be inscribed
on their banner.

If the Socialist-Democratic doctrines had any organic relationship to
the anthropological side of Darwinism, science would find its way into
it. It would ill befit Science to complain of this. In fact, the Socialist
Democrats believe that such alliance has already been effected between
science and their philosophy, and it will do no harm to consider the
situation, though as conceived by the Socialist Democrats it implies a
fundamental misunderstanding.

In the " Volksstaat " {ubi supra) we read :

The Darwinian theory is an important support for Socialism: it is, so to
speak, unconsciously its sanction on the part of natural science. For, after all,
what is the principal result or the practical meaning of the Darwinian doctrine ?
Surely, along with a profound insight into the workings of organic nature, it
means the explicit recognition of the doctrine of equality between all men. If,
etc. . . . then surely we may well preach Sociahsin, inasmuch as every one
knows that each individual is a product evolved by nature, and hence having
the same claims on nature.

Then the conclusion is drawn that, inasmuch as the reactionaries will
not accept the descent of man, they do all they can to prevent the
recognition of Darwinism as a support of Socialist Democracy, and to
check its diffusion among the people.

How the Socialist Democrats picture to thenoselves the equality of
all men, and first of all the equal natural condition of all men, we see
in Jacoby : " Man is good from the beginning " ; " The brain of each
individual man is capable of being developed so that it shall of itself do
all thinking, just as the hand of each individual man is capable of being
developed so that it shall do everything with the aid of machinery."
That hitherto we have seen only capacity for equal development, while
in fact there exists great inequality of development, is due to the fact
that only those who enjoy unnatural privileges have the time requisite
for the development of their consciousness. When men shall once have
been properly brought up to equality in the Socialistic state, then equal
development, with bias toward the good, will come of itself, for " knoicl-
edge of nature compels us to regard cdl men as beings capable of devel-
opment in precisely the same measure.''''

But by the term "all men " is to be understood the male portion of
the race, for many Socialist Democrats agree with high authorities in
holding that woman, by reason of her abnormal brain-structure, must,
in the state of the future, act a subordinate part : judgment, action, are
not for her, but only feeling, and the faculty of order.

In all this it were difficult to find a single trait that can be referred
to the Darwinian anthropology. The SociaUst's "aspiration toward
perfection " is associated with his ideal of the equality of mankind.
Now, this illusion Daricijiism utterly demolishes. The very principle
of development negatives the principle of equality. So far does Dar-

588 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

winism go in denying equality, tliat even where in idea we should have
equality, Darwinism pronounces its realization an impossibility. Dar-
winism is the scientijic estahlishment of inequality, and hence the as-
sertion that the Darwinian doctrine is above all a recognition of the
doctrine of the equality of all men needs no refutation from our side :
it has no foundation in fact.

Again, nowhere in the literature of Darwinism do we find the axioms
that " every man is from the beginning good," or that " all men are
equal in their capacity for development."

As to what the Darwinians think, let me quote from my book,
" Darwinism and the Doctrine of Descent " : " The grade to which
this (intellectual) development rises is generally dependent on the pre-
ceding generations. The psychical capacities of each individual bear
the family type, and are determined by the laws of heredity. For it is
simply untrue that, indejyendently of color and descent, each man, under
conditions otherwise alike, may attain a like pitch of mental develop-
me7it" (page 296).

Had it not been that we are held answerable for these ideas of the
Socialist Democrats, we should never have esteemed them worthy of
notice.

The Socialist Democrats anticipate, when their state shall have been
founded, the universal contentment of all men, who shall labor partly
out of personal inclination, partly by state ordinance. For this, good
men will surely be needed, for one year after the proclamation of
equality, the " Volksstaat " (1874, No. 30) demands that " the strong
and the weak, the bright and the dull, force of mind and force of body,
in so far as they are human, shall in a partnership such as befits human
beings be associated in labor, and associated in the enjoyment of its
fruits."

Here we must consider that fraction of the Socialist Democrats who
with Engels {ubi supra, pages 223 sqq., and especially page 235) imagine
that the inequaHty which man inherits from his brute origin, an in-
equality that can not be done away, will be paralyzed under the new
social order. As we have seen, some of the Socialists deduce the in-
equality of human individuals from the unnaturalness of the old form of
social organization ; they not only maintain a vague idea of equality, but
they also expect to see an equal development of individuals, though
strong and weak, bright and dull, still continue.

On the other hand, Engels calls the advanced advocates of equality
" ghosts," and the demand of the proletariat for an equality beyond the
abolition of class, an " absurdity " (page 84) ; at the same time he is con-
fident that the struggle for existence will cease on the abolition of class
distinctions, and will give place to universal mutual good will. This
would require tliat individuals should disregard all actually existent
inequalities, whether mental or bodily. Plainly there is no Darwinism
here either, and we leave it to others to contest this conversion of the

SCIEXCE AND SOCIALISM. 589

doctrine of development, a doctrine 'grounded on observation, into a
fiction of the imagination, for we have to do, not with Socialist Democ-
racy as such, but with its relation to Darwinism.

The result of our investigation is, that Socialist Democracj'-, wherever
it appeals to Darwinism, has failed to understand that hypothesis ; that,
if it has understood it, it knows not how to draw from it any advantage
for itself ; and that it must deny the unalterable principle of Darwinism,
nameh", competition.*

Such is an account of our relations to Socialist Democracy, a move-
ment whose gravity we look on as a sign of a diseased social state that
calls for help and salvation.

It remains to define our position with respect to the views of a few
of the friends and counselors of the Socialistic movement who, ap-
proaching more nearly to the Darwinian point of view, look for the best
results for human progress to result from natural selection c(fter pres-
ent social ills have been cured. I refer in particular to Albert Lange.
That so eminent a student of human life should estimate at its true
value the struggle for existence which has come down to humanity
from the unconscious animal world, was to have been expected. He
well knew how little warrant there is for the exjoectation that the
" struggle for the more desirable position " will ever cease. But he
based his hope on the idea of liberty and equality, an idea that is slowly
developed with the developing reason, and which brings men together,
in spite of differences of race, or talents, or station. He hoped that the
laws of the conscious intelligence would, as time went on, gain the mas-
tery. He hoped for a deliverance to come in the very remote future
from a current of thought and feeling which would arise in the devel-
oped human mind, and which would run counter to the natural process
of differentiation and division. He hoped for a spiritualization of the
physical struggle into a peaceful contest, having for its object the good
of the race. It is therefore nothing new if in these days like views are
put forth by Socialist Democrats.

In his work " The Labor Question," Lange has intimated that cer-
tain social evils are the results of artificial selection, and that these
might be corrected by a return to simpler natural conditions. If we
were to spin out this thought, as is done, for instance, by Dodel in his
"Neuere Schopfungsgeschichte " (1875, pages 145, 147), we might
readily persuade ourselves that under the social conditions now exist-
ing the principle of natural selection, indeed any purely natural de-
velopment, " comes into operation either not at all, or only to a limited
extent." Then it seems to be an infraction of the natural order, that
they who are born to station, so often, without personal worth or tal-
ents, monopolize, in virtue of their inherited wealth, the pleasures and
enjoyments of life, leaving for their descendants the same even path.

' In the " Zukunft" (18'78, uhi supra) the competition of the future is narrowed down
to " a competitive struggle between natural gifts."

590 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Do these favorites of Fortune, it is asked, who take no part in the
struggle for existence, constitute the portion of society which is most
highly endowed by nature ? Ought we to foster such a class for gen-
erations to come ? In fact, can it be that its continued and prosper-
ous existence has the highest justification ?

Out of this preposterous condition of things, where the salutary
principle of natural selection is borne down by artificial selection, our
one hope of deliverance, we are told, is in the coming of a time " when
all the millions who day by day come into existence shall enjoy equal
rights of development, so that each individual favored of Fortune, be
his birthplace a hovel or a palace, each one endowed with talent or
genius, shall find ready prepared for him all the means requisite for de-
veloping his natural powers in proportion to their value, and for after-
ward employing the same for the common good."

I can not accept as correct this explanation of natural and artificial
selection. Each individual has, throughout the whole course of his-
torical development, fortified his existence by all the means at his com-
mand, with property, with inherited station, by putting forth all his
powers of body or of mind, inherited and personal. Artificial selection
has a definite end in view : it aims at transforming for a special pur-
pose that which is offered by nature, and then maintaining the new
form for the same end. When the nobility, the great landholder class,
maintains its position and becomes rooted, we have not an instance of
artificial selection in the Darwinian sense, but it is the natural course
of things, however unnatural the result may seem to be. If this be not
admitted, then the whole education of mankind, and every arrangement
in the state or in society made consciously and with the object of add-
ing to man's happiness or developing his powers, must be accounted
instruments of artificial selection. And among the most artificial of
them all would be a regulation of the state which should insure unlimited
freedom of development to each individual's talents.

At our point of view we are ever and again reminded that the idea
of the natural struggle for existence does not imply that the victorious
one is always physiologically, or, in the case of man, morally, the most
deserving. We might, but we can not, imagine an ideal state wherein
the most deserving shall always gain the victory, and thus we may
represent to ourselves a universal perfectionment as the end of develop-
ment. Hence we are not in the least pessimists ; but, on the other
hand, the innumerable evidences of progress which we see in nature,
both animate and inanimate, do not suffice to make our idea of the uni-
verse purely optimistic. Progress is an asymptote of the ideal of per-
fectionment, and in recognizing this we give free play to the tendency
perfectionward, without attempting on our own part to interfere.

With all the certainty that is attainable by inductive proof, the doc-
trine of development teaches the brute origin of man. Whether
Pfeffel says aright —

THE FIRST THREE YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 591

"Weit besser fur das Heil der Welt
1st frommer Irrthum, der erlitilt,
Als kalte Walirheit, die zerstort ' —

may perhaps be open to question in certain cases. In the present case
it is worth while to reflect that oftentimes men who awaken from a long-
cherished though pious error betray their kinship to the beasts ; while
truth, sedulously handed down from generation to generation, and ad-
vancing enlightenment, make men more human.

Would that we could diffuse abroad a conception of the full truth
of the Darwinian doctrine of development, to the end that every think-
ing man who has not already been caught by the counter-current might
know what it comprises and what consequences it does not warrant !

■♦«»

THE FIKST THKEE YEAKS OF CHILDHOOD.

THE readers of the "Monthly" will remember the account of "An
Infant's Progress in Language," by F. Pollock, in our September
number. We also published an article on " Lingual Development in
Babyhood," by M. Taine, in June, 1876. M. Bernard Perez has just
published a book upon an analogous subject — the mental development
of children under three years of age. The following resume of his ob-
servations is translated from the " Revue Scientifique " for November,
1878.

I. Sensibility: Pleasures and Pains of the Senses. — From
the first month the foetus is sensible to the action of cold. Its nervous
system commences to react.

Taste. — The first manifestations of pleasure in infancy are due to
taste. A child two months and a half old will refuse with grimaces a
sucking-bottle filled with water, or with milk too little sweetened.

Touch. — The feather of a quill passed over the eyes and nose of a
child fifteen days old will make it frown. Agreeable sensations are not
manifested before the age of two months, although they may exist be-
fore that time.

Temperature. — Infants die easily of cold even in summer. It is
thought, however, that adults suffer more from cold, because they are
better able to compare their different states.

Vision. — Color attracts a babe ; lively colors charm it, dull colors
also please if they are positive and distinct. Two children, one three
months, the other five, were delighted by some sketches of a grayish
color.

Hearing. — One child a month old liked to listen to playing and

' Far better for the welfare of the world is pious error, which sustains, than cold
truth, which destroys.

592 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

singing. When four or six months old almost all children like to be
sung to, and many try to prattle. They please themselves by making
a noise.

Smell. — Children for a long time show no sensibility to good and
bad odors. At ten or fifteen months their sense of smell is very lively.

II. Sensibility : Emotions and Passions.

Taste. — The emotions connected with taste are for a long time the
most lively.

Fear. — Fear is early manifested. A babe of two months will make
a face, cry, and recoil upon the bosom of its nurse, if one sneezes or
cries out near it.

Jealousy and Anger. — A little girl, nearly three months old, would
frown, make wry faces, kick, and cry, on seeing another babe on her
mother's breast. A little boy, on the second day, when dressed, ges-
ticulated in a manner painful to see, and especially when his arms were
put in the sleeves.

Emotions vary with the Objects. — A little child eleven months old
was pleased to hold the nursing-bottle, and to eat various foods ; he
loved to play ; he showed affection for his parents, and made some dif-
ference in this respect between different persons that he liked. He
showed aversion for some inanimate objects (hammer syringe) ; for a
little black barking dog ; and for the caresses of a neighboring child
seven years old, who had played him more than one trick. The organ-
ization of children being more feeble than ours, their emotions are
short-lived, and things the most disagreeable or painful do not long
remain so.

Animal Symjmthy. — Children love animals, but in a purely egotis-
tic fashion. A child six months old, left alone with a turtle, half tore
ofiF one of its feet, and when his nurse came was pulling at another with
all his might.

Suman Sympathy. — One child a year old, coming home after a
month's absence, paid no attention to a cat and dog that he knew well,
but with a smile reached out his arms to an old servant. Children have
only a germ of true sympathy. A little child four years old lost one
of his dearest companions. The father of the dead boy took him on
his knee while sobbing. The child escaped, frisked about for a little,
and, coming back to the afflicted father, said, " Now Peter is dead, you
will give me his horse and drum, will you not ? " Sometimes more sen-
sibility is manifested : a baby of sixteen months would cry to the shed-
ding of hot tears on seeing his father take a shower-bath. The same
child at the same time was the terror of cats.

III. Movements (First Period). — The new-born child sneezes.
Cries and Tears. — During its first weeks the babe sheds no tears.

In a child seventy-seven days old rapid and short inspirations ap-
proached to sobbing ; in another child of one hundred and thirty-eight
days M. Perez observed a distinct sob.

THE FIRST THREE YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 593

Laughing. — Smiling often occurs before the age of a month. Chil-
dren of two months laugh, but without seeming to suspect that the
laugh expresses anything.

Sense. — A little girl three months old would prattle when her
mother sang ; she had for some time expressed, by particular sounds,
her wish to suck.

Various Movements. — A child six days old left, with his arms free,
in his cradle, would mechanically carry his hand toward his face, and
succeed in placing it almost under his head. We may remark that his
father often slept in an analogous position. Children raise and lower
their arms and legs with no apparent reason. Some new-born babes
move their eyes from the second day. The son of Tiedemann, a phi-
losopher of the eighteenth century, would, when inspiring, suck any-
thing put in his mouth the next day after his birth.

IV. Movements (Second Period). — Between four and eight months
the child passes over the interval which separates motion and locomo-
tion. Toward the age of fifteen months he executes many movements —
shaking his head from right to left to say no, and bowing it to say yes.
The ear and eye have accommodated themselves to distances. The eye
expresses many shades of thought, feeling, and will. Laughs, tears^
and various movements of the hand serve equally to express emotion.

V. Voluntary Movements. — The new-born child executes some
movements that have a definite end. These movements are probably
automatic ; consciousness is, however, begiimiug to awaken. When
two or three months old the child can put forth a good deal of strength.
At four or five months he will make such a stir that it will take several
persons to quiet him. Voluntary action is always determined by feel-
ing^ more or less conscious.

VI. Intellectual Faculties : Consciousness, Attention. — M.
Perez thinks that many reflex actions of the child are accompanied by
consciousness. The eyes of a little girl a week old would sometimes
take a rotary movement, as if trying to see something. When some
one spoke, or when certain objects made a great noise, something like
surprise and attention, and an intentional direction to her gaze, was
noticed. This little girl would suck, but without persistence, all ob-
jects, besides the nipple, that were carried to her lips. She cried and
wrung herself when put in her cradle, but if her mother took her in
her arms, and while singing put her face against the child's, she would
cease to cry.

Attention. — A child of seventeen days would follow with its eyes
a lighted candle that was passed before him. Another, at the age of
a month, would give sustained attention to the act of sucking ; its
fixed eyes would shine with pleasure, and would from time to time half
veil themselves under his eyelids. His sucking-bottle was filled with
sweetened water. After a slight hesitation, he continued his sucking
with the same expression of voluptuous attention as if the bottle had

594 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

contained milk. When given pure water, he tasted it, left it, took hold
again, and then abandoned it, frowning and making a mouth. A child
a month old would look fixedly, for three or four minutes, at the reflec-
tion in a mirror of the light on a table. In forty-five days he would
follow with his eyes a doll dressed in bright blue, that a little girl
danced before him a yard off. Thirteen days after his birth the son of
Tiedemann gave attention to the gestures of those who spoke to him.
The attention of children is very short-lived, but it is often profitable.

VII. Memory. — Hereditary memory is manifested in the first reflex
actions of the infant. These awaken the consciousness, and the child's
own memory often unites itself with them. In a few months a child
has already many personal recollections. A little girl three months
and a half old could indicate where her feet were ; she also distinguished
her dress, which she seemed to take for a part of her person. She had
a passion for color ; the word picture made her smile. A little boy
seven months old had a particular tenderness for his grandmother, who
had fed him with a bottle. A brush was put before him. He put his
hands upon it, and soon lifted them with a grave air. The experiment
was repeated several times ; at the eighth he threw himself backward,
without touching the brush ; at the ninth he reflected, hesitated, again
drew back, and embraced his grandmother. Memory is also manifested
by a sort of intermittent possession of recollections. A little girl eight
months old moves her arms as if she were shaking a bell. She is pos-
sessed by the idea of this bell, and often amuses herself with it. When
she is distracted for a time, she will recommence her movements, and
repeat this manoeuvre more than twenty times in half an hour. A lit-
tle child of fifteen months would incessantly repeat the wdrd a-teau
(bateau), meaning the boat, which he liked very- much ; later, two
hens along with the boat engrossed his attention. Some months after-
ward he made a journey, and for the two words he had so often repeated
he substituted those of min-fer {chemin defer, railroad).

VIII. Association of Sensations, Ideas, and Acts, — When the
young Tiedemann, two days old, was placed on his side, in the position
for sucking, or when he felt a soft hand on his face, he was hushed,
and sought the breast. At five months he had remarked that when his
nurse took her mantle it was a signal for going out. So he always re-
joiced when that happened. A little child four months and a half old,
hearing her nurse call her from behind a door through the keyhole,
raised her head, looked right and left, and, at a fresh call, put out her
arms, gave starts of joy, of desire, of spite, and finally began to make
grimaces. The nurse of a little girl three months and a half old, when
going out with the child, bought a bouquet of violets, which she con-
cealed in her bosom. An uncle of the child one day took her in his
lap ; he had a pretty rose in his button-hole ; the child put out her
arms, pressed the vest of her uncle with both hands, applied her lips to
his shirt front, and made sucking movements. A child of six months

THE FIRST THREE YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 595

demanded his bottle, with loud cries, the first thing in the morning,
even if it had been given him but the moment before. Thus children
associate their sensations ; and ahnost all kinds of associations, fortui-
tous or logical, may be observed among them.

IX. Abstraction. — We may study in little children the analysis
which ends in the idea of the individual, and that which ends in the
ideas of form and quantity. At the age of one month several children
would follow with their eyes an object in motion near their faces. Chil-
dren learn only little by little to distinguish different colors. External
impressions take hold of them by degrees. "Distinctly to perceive
sensations, and to preserve the distinct recollection of them, apart from
the vague complexity of concomitant impressions, which have only
slightly affected the senses, is a work of repair that may be considered
as a sort of rudimentary abstraction." Notions of form ought to arise
in consequence of the necessity there is that the child should see things
separately in order to see them well, and from especially lively impres-
sions made by certain objects. According to Perez, abstraction is not
a result of language. Purely abstract ideas do not exist, and relatively
abstract ideas have their origin independently of language.

X. CoMPAEisoN. — Comparison, properly speaking, is not possible to
the new-born child for several weeks. A little girl of three months,
before whom were put an empty sucking-bottle and one full of milk,
seized both, and carried the empty one to her lips. A cake and a
morsel of bread were placed before a child of ten months. He seized
the cake. It was taken away from him, and he began to cry and kick.
Presently a morsel of bread was given him, which he took, but did not
see his mistake till he had bitten it, when he thrcAv it away. The same
child could easily distinguish its own playthings from those of its
comrades, and, while glad to get hold of theirs, would not permit them
to amuse themselves with his. After fifteen months, and especially be-
tween twenty months and two years, children compare a great deal.
When about two years and a half they use such phrases as baby tree
(little tree), papa tree (great tree). One child three years old knows the
names of more than twenty trees, and can give their more apparent
specific characters.

XI. Imagination. — Representative imagination is exercised at the
beginning of life. Several facts already given prove this. The vague
and profound terror manifested by children is a product of imagination,
and so are dreams. The passage from reproductive imagination to
creative imagination is effected by a change in the order in which the
ideas are represented, a change which frequently occurs during sleep.
Creative imagination is shown in a waking state by many acts. The
child appreciates fun, and sometimes tries to amuse those who surround
it. At four months lacking three days, young Tiedemann tried, for
amusement, to make all sorts of movements, and to take different pos-
tures. The same faculty manifests itself under the form of destructive

596 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and constructive mania. The imitation of gestures, of expressions, of
the cries of animals, indicate the first awakening of the eesthetic sen-
timent, to which, perhaps, we should also attribute the attraction that
certain pictures have for the child. A little boy three and a half years
old, being admitted for some weeks to play with a dozen little girls four
or five years old, chose his favorites the second day. He had a strong
affection for two or three children more playful than the others ; he
would take them in his arms and caress them, while turning away from
the others, scolding them and striking them. The same child early
showed a sort of ajsthetic musical sentiment. When listening to the
piano, he would execute rhythmic jerks or starts. At twenty months
children are passionate for the recital of impressions suited to them.
Even at three years they take in earnest the stories told them, and
often, when these stories are repeated, they will not permit any changes
of statement.

XII. GENERALiZATioisr. — M. Pcrcz does not believe that language is
necessary to the making of a generalization. He points out to the
observer a rudiment of generalization in children that can not talk. A
child eight months old had, among his favorite playthings, a tin box,
into which he put everything that would go into it. Having found out
the propert}' of the box to contain other things, he reasoned from this
to unknown objects, and began to experiment. He tried to put the
legs of a little dancing jack into the stopper of a decanter, then a little
doll's cradle, and finally the end of his forefinger. A child of eight
months, at the sight of any young or playful person, would make starts
toward her. Besides, even at the time when children express some
general ideas by words, they have others which they do not so express.
A child of thirteen months, who was refused the hand when he wished
to be led, left the person who held him, got down upon the floor, and
began to creep. Creeping was for him a means of going along — a
means of which he had a very distinct idea.

XIII. Judgment. — If to judge is to believe something of something
else, we can not doubt that judgment is manifested by children. The
young Tiedemann made a judgment when, seeing his nurse take her
mantle, he understood that she was going out. The notion of quantity
is early formed by little children, who know very well a large piece of
cake from a small one. The idea of number is confounded with that
of quantity ; a little child of three months seized at the same time two
sucking-bottles that were ofi'ered him. A child two years and a half
old knows how to count twelve, but has not a clear idea of the time
represented by three days. In a general way the child often judges
very well of concrete matters. Abstract judgments are more difficult
for it.

XIV. Reasoning. — The little child reasons, if reason is only a
series of consecutive judgments arranged according to the law of ha-
bitual association. A child seven months old associates the idea of the

THE FIRST THREE YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 597

movements of mastication, and the resulting sensations. When he sees
his nurse eat, he thinks that what she eats is good for her, and that
what is good for her will be good for him. And, as he knows by expe-
rience that the nurse can divide with him if she pleases, he begins to
cry, in order to make her do it. It is very difficult to distinguish that
which is conscious from that which is unconscious in the total manifes-
tations of apparently rationally ordered feelings, ideas, and organic
impulses. A child whose father often went fishing was accustomed to
eat fried fish. One day his father, coming home after the hour of sup-
per, ate alone. " Me M-ant fry, papa ; me want fry," said he, seeking to
get the attention of his father ; he finished by getting under the table,
and pulling his father's leg. " Me want fry, not kitty ; me fry ; me
want fry." His idea was to imitate the cat in getting vmder the table,
so as to get some fish. Conscious acts are mingled with reflex acts.
Children often show a great aptitude in appropriating the experiences
arising in new circumstances. A little child, in the neighborhood of
two years old, would sometimes, at the table, steal something from his
neio-hbor's plate. He would at once compare the stolen morsel with
his own piece, then he would hurry and compress it, so that his larceny
would be less apparent.

XV. Of the Expeessiox of Language. — Language is only a su-
perior application of the faculty of expression possessed by all ani-
mals. It is based on the correspondence between certain external
movements with experienced sensations. Children from the first month
cry, prattle, sob, but without attaching any signification to these acts.
Association and a sort of selection render these movements and these
feelings conscious and voluntary. Hereditary influence ought to inter-
pose in the early progress of language ; for little children quickly learn
to distinguish tones of pleasure from tones of anger, etc. At three
months the child makes intentional gestures in asking for or refusing a
thing. " A child of seven months, who had never seen me," says M.
Perez, " smiled as to an old acquaintance on hearing me pronounce his
name." At nine months he would give little cries of pleasure and of
appeal, some of which were evident attempts to imitate a dog, a cat, a
bird. At eleven months he understood some little phrases. A child
twelve months old, precocious in language, used a certain number of
words in their ordinary sense. A little girl of nineteen months pro-
nounced intelligibly many words, and passed easily from inarticulate to
articulate sounds that she sought by instinct, but Avas aided by imita-
tion. She ended by reproducing the last tonic syllable, of which she
could modify the articvilation in conformity to the law of least effort.
For a long time she said only hou for tamhour (drum), ye for cafe (cof-
fee), ye for Pierre (Peter). Since then she says a-hou for tamhour,
a-teau for gateau (cake). The learning of language seems in general
to obey the law of least effort ; it is influenced by temperament and
by surroundings. The words most easily learned by children are those

598 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

whicli express the most salient qualities of objects, or the part which
produces the principal and dominant impression. A little girl twenty
months old called the decanter v^ (verve, glass). A little child two
years old called all dogs ica-wa, except his grandfather's dog, which he
did not call by his own name, but only distinguished it from others.
Some one made for him a little rounded figure of paper ; he said tet^,
the name by which he designated the bosom of his nurse. Intelligent
children often forget words that have no meaning for them ; children
of less intelligence, on the contrary, sometimes replace ideas by words.
The mania for jabbering syllables without signification is common with
children, even the most intelligent. No doubt they rest from the effort
of mind that their first essays in talking cost them in making this
noise, which, without requiring any exertion, charms and stuns their
ears.

XVI. Notion of Self : Peesonalitt, Reflection. — The notion
of self may be considered, to a certain extent, as hereditary, and al-
ready existing among the impressions of foetal life. It is developed
little by little. The personality of little children is concentrated in the
sphere of emotion. They do not know distinctly either themselves or
anything else, but they are sensible of the presence of objects, and
they are sensible of themselves living, feeling, and acting. At three
months the notion of personality is already outlived. When children
begin to speak of themselves they employ the third person. M. Perez
does not conclude from this that children are unable to separate their
personality from external objects. The words 7", wze, Paul, Charles,
etc., alike express the notion of personal individuality ; they designate
the personality of the child, a personality that he well knows. When
between two and three 3'ears old the sentiment of personality is affirmed
and exaggerated. A child was very delicate before the age of twenty-
six months. His self-love had to be corrected. When eight years old
he fell, and before getting up he walked on all-fours, making believe
that he had not fallen. At another time he stumbled on the staircase,
and rolled over two or three times, purposely bumping his head with a
noise. He pretended to have fallen for fun. He was usually pedantic,
egotistic, and conceited, but from time to time would show sympathy
and diffidence.

XVII. The Moral Sense. — The child has not the absolute idea of
good and bad ; but he has the objective idea from the age of six or
seven months. For him that which is permitted is good, that which is
forbidden is bad. A child seven months old had learned from its moth-
er, who had scolded and shaken it, that it ought not to cry to be taken
up or held in arms if its wishes were not immediately granted. When
ten months old the child began to get up itself in a hesitating way — a
moral being. A little child of eleven months obeyed his father very
well, particularly when asked to do anything for the amusement or
pleasure of others. For little children, the moral law is incarnated in

THE FIRST THREE YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 599

their parents. A little boy, staying for two or three months with his
uncle, wovild show how his mother managed in reference to him, and
cry and gesticulate if things were not done as she did them. He would
himself follow the rule of conduct that he tried to impose upon others.
" It is very bad to lie," said he ; " that gives mamma much pain — that
makes her cry." As for the rest, the moral sense is slowly modified,
according to the circumstances in which the child is placed. Both sym-
pathy and the desire to please play an important part in the develop-
ment of the moral faculties. A little girl of forty months was greatly
afflicted when her mother said to her, "I am angry with baby." She
was, for the most part, indifferent to her father's scoldings, whom she
was accustomed to hear cry out at her, and threaten her. The young
Tiedemann, when he was two years and five months old, said, when he
thought he had done something good, " Everybody will say that is a
good little boy." When he was naughty, if he were told, " The neigh-
bors will see you," he ceased immediately. The moral sense is one of
the faculties most susceptible of modification by education.

The love of justice sometimes manifests itself. A little boy, the
first time he told a lie, was shut in the closet, and when he was set free
he cried out, struck with the importance attached to his fault, *' But,
mamma, perhaps I am not punished enough for a fault so grave."
Some children are open-handed to liberality ; others, on the contrary,
have the instinct of ownership strongly developed, the instinct of ap-
propriation is also manifested, and sometimes becomes the instinct of
stealing. Finally, almost all children are cruel ; it is hard to prevent
them from hurting animals. A little girl, two years old, very affec-
tionate and caressing, passed three fourths of the day tormenting an
old dog. The best children are betrayed into striking even those they
fondly love.

CoN'CLUSiox — We find the germs of all the faculties in the little
child, and sensations are the food upon which they grow. We may
even say that the essential facultie's are innate, since the nervous cen-
ters that manifest them are already organized at the moment of birth.
The method followed by M. Perez is the scientific method ; observation
abounds in his work ; perhaps, however, some inductions repose upon
disputable interpretations. But, be this as it may, the book of M.
Perez is full of interest, and can not fail to be of great utility in a
study so important, so curious, and so long neglected as the psychology
of infants.

6oo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS.

By J. NOEMAN LOCKYER, F. K. S.

I HAVE recently announced to the Royal Society that, reasoning
from the phenomena presented to us in the spectroscope when
known compounds are decomposed, I have obtained evidence that the
so-called elementary bodies are in reality compound ones.

Although the announcement took this form, the interest taken in
science nowadays by the general public is so great that it is apt to
travel beyond the record ; and, as able editors are not content to wait
for what the experimentalist himself has to say, they are often at the
mercy of those who, perhaps more from misapprehension than anything
else, are prepared to provide columns filled with statements wide of the
mark. Nor is this all. If there he a practical side to the work, some
" application of science " is brought to the front, and the worker's own
view of his labor is twisted out of all truth.

This has happened in my case. The idea of simplifying the ele-
ments is connected with the philosopher's stone. The use of the
philosopher's stone was to transmute metals ; therefore I have been
supposed to be " transmuting " metals ; and imaginations have been so
active in this direction that I am not sure that, when my paper was
eventually read at the Royal Society, many were not disappointed that
I did not incontinently then and there " transmute " a ton of lead into
a ton of gold.

It is in consequence of this general misapprehension of the nature
of my work, that I the more willingly meet the wishes of the editor
that I should say something about it. The paper itself I need not
reproduce, as it has appeared in extenso elsewhere * ; but there are
many points touching both the origin of the views I have advanced and
the work which has led up to them, -on which I am glad of the oppor-
tunity of addressing a wider public.

It is now upward of ten years since I began a series of observations
having for their object the determination of the chemical constitution
of the atmosphere of the sun. The work done, so far as the number
of elementary substances found to exist in it, I summed up in a for-
mer article ^ ; but the ten years' work had opened up a great number
of problems above and beyond the question of the number of elements
which exist in the solar atmosphere, because we were dealing with ele-
ments under conditions which it is impossible to represent and experi-
ment on here.

In the first place, the temperature of the sun is beyond all definition ;
secondl}^, the vapors are not confined ; and, thirdly, there is an enor-

' " American Journal of Science and Arts."

^ Printed in the " Popular Science Monthly Supplement" for August, ISYS.

THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS. 601

mous number of them all mixed together, and free, as it were, to find
their own level. Nor is this all. Astronomers have not only deter-
mined that the sun is a star, and have approximately fixed his place in
nature as regards size and brilliancy, but they have compared the spec-
trum of this star, this sun of ours, with those of the other bodies which
people space, and have thus begun to lay the foundations of a science
which we may christen Comparative Stellar Chemistry. Dealing with
the knowledge already acquired along this line, we may say roughly
that there are four kinds of stars recognizable by their spectra.

We have first the brightest and presumably hottest stars, and of
these the spectrum is marvelously simple — so simple, in fact, that we
say their atmospheres consist in the main of only two substances — a
statement founded on the observation that the lines in the spectra are
matched by lines which we see in the spectra of hydrogen and calcium ;
there are traces of magnesium, and perhaps of sodium too, but the
faintness of the indication of these two latter substances only inten-
sifies the unmistakable development of the phenomena by which the
existence of the former is indicated.

So much, then, for the first class ; now for the second. In this we
find our sun. In the spectra of stars of this class, the indications of
hydrogen are distinctly enfeebled, the evidences by which the existence
of calcium has been traced in stars of the first class are increased in
intensity, and, accompanying these changes, we find all simplicity
vanished from the spectrum. The sodium and magnesium indications
have increased, and a spectrum in which the lines obviously visible
may be counted on the fingers is replaced by one of terrific complexity.

The complexity which we meet with in passing from the first class
to the second is one brought about by the addition of the lines pro-
duced by bodies of chemical substances of moderate atomic weight.
The additional complexity observed when we pass from the second
stage to the third is brought about by the addition of lines due in
the main to bodies of higher atomic weight. And — this is a point of
the highest importance — at the third stage the hydrogen, which
existed in such abundance in stars of the first class, has now entirely
disappeared.

In the last class of stars to which I have referred, the fourth, the
lines have given place to fluted bands, at the same time that the light
and color of the star indicate that we have almost reached the stage
of extinction. These facts have long been familiar to students of solar
and stellar physics. Indeed, in a letter written to M. Dumas, December
3, 1873, and printed in the " Comptes Rendus," I thus summarized a
memoir which has since appeared in the " Philosophical Transactions" :

II semble que plus une 6toile est chaude, plus son spectre est simple, et que
les elements metaUiques se font voir dans Tordre de leurs poids atomiques.'
Ainsi nous avons :

' The old system of atomic weights was the one referred to.

VOL. XIT. — 39

6o2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

1 . Des 6toiles tres-brillantes oti nous ne voyons que I'hydrogene en quantite
enorme, et le magnesium ;

2. Des 6toiles plus froides, comma notre soleil, oti nous trouvons :

Ilydrog^ne + Magnesium + Sodium

riydrogene + Magnesium + Sodium + Calcium + Fer, . . . ;

dans ces etoiles, pas de metalloides ;

3. Des etoiles plus froides encore, dans lesquelles tons les elements metalliques
sont ASSociES, oil leurs lignes ne sont plus visibles, et oti nous n'avons que les
spectres des metalloides et des composes.

4. Plus une etoile est ag6e, plus Vhydrogene Hire disparait; sur la terre, nous
ne trouvons plus d'hydrogeue en liberty.

II me semble que ces faits sont les preuves de plusieurs idees 6mises par vous.
J'ai pense que nous pouvions imaginer une " dissociation celeste,'" qui continue le
travail de nos fourneaux, et que le metalloides sont des composes qui sont disso-
cies par la temperature solaire, pendant que les elements metalliques mona-
tomiques, dont les poids atomiques sont les moindres, sont pr6cis6ment ceux qui
resistent mime a la temperature des 6toiles les plus cbaudes.

Before I proceed further I should state that, while observations of
the sun have since shown that calcium should be introduced between
hydrogen and magnesium for that luminary, Dr. Huggins's photographs
have demonstrated the same fact for the stars, so that in the present
state of our knowledge, independent of all hypotheses, the facts may
be represented as follows :

Hottest Stars .) ( H + Ca + Mg

Sun . . V Line3^ of -I H + Ca + Mg + Na + Fe

Cooler Stars .) (— — Mg + Na + Fe + Bi + Hg

Fluted Spectra of
Coolest . Fluted bands of — — — — — — ■{ Metals and Met-
alloids.

I have no hesitation in stating my opinion that in this line of facts
we have the most important outcome of solar work during the last ten
years ; and if there were none others in support of them, the conclu-
sion would still stare us in the face that the running down of tein-
perature in a mass of matter which is eventually to form a star
is accompanied by a gradually increasing complexity of chemical
forms.

This, then, is the result of one branch of the inquiry, which has
consisted in a careful chronicling of the spectroscopic phenomena pre-
sented to our study by the various -stars.

Experimentalists have observed the spectrum of hydrogen, of cal-
cium, etc., in their laboratories, and have compared the bright lines
visible in the spectra with the dark ones in the stars, and on this
ground they have announced the discovery of calcium in the sun or of
hydrogen in Sirius.

' Symbols are used here to save space. II = Hydrogen, Ca = Calcium, Mg = Mag-
nesium, Na = Sodium, Fe = Iron, Bi =: Bismuth, Hg =: Mercury.

THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS. 603

In all this work they have taken for granted that in the spectrum
thus produced in their laboratoi-ies, they have been dealing with the
vibration of one unique thing, call it atom, molecule, or what 3'ou will ;
that one unique thing has by its vibrations produced all the lines
visible, which they have persistently seen and mapped in each instance.

It is at this point that my recent work comes in, and raises the
question whether what has been thus taken for granted is really true.
And now that the question is raised, the striking thing about it is that
it was not asked long ago.

One reason is this : Time out of mind — or, rather, ever since
Nicolas Le Fevre, who was sent over here by the French King at the
request of our English one at the time the Royal Society was estab-
lished, pointed out that chemistry was the art of separations as well as
of transmiitatioyis — it has been recognized that, with every increase of
temperature, or dissociating power, bodies were separated from each
other. In this way Priestley, from his " plomb rouge," separated
oxygen, and Davy separated potassium ; and as a final result of the
labor of generations of chemists, the millionfold chemical complexity
of natural bodies in the three kingdoms of nature has been reduced by
separations till only some seventy so-called elements are left.

Now this magnificent simplification has been brought about by the
employment of moderate temperatures — moderate, that is to say, in
comparison with the transcendental dissociating energies of electricity
as employed in our modern voltaic arcs and electric sparks.

But, in the observations made during the last thirty years on the
spectra of bodies rendered incandescent by electricity, we have actually,
though yet scarcely consciously, been employing these transcendental
temperatures, and, if it be that this higher grade of heat does what all
other lower grades have done, then the spectrum we have observed in
each case is not the record of the vibrations of the particular substance
with which we have imagined ourselves to be working only, but of all
the simpler substances produced by the series, whether short or long,
of the " separations " effected.

The question, then, it will be seen, is an appeal to the law of conti-
nuity, nothing more and nothing less. Is a temperature higher than
any yet applied to act in the same way as each higher temperature,
which has been applied, has done ? Or is there to be some unexplained
break in the uniformity of nature's processes ?

The definite reason for my asking the question at the present time
has been this : The final reduction of four years' work at a special
branch of the subject to which I will refer presently, on the assumption
that at the temperature of the electric arc we do not get such " simpHfi-
cations," has landed me in the most helpless confusion, and, if I do not
succeed in finding a higher law than that on which I have been working,
my four years' work, in this direction at all events, will have been
thrown away.

6o4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

This and other reasons compel me to hold that the answer to the
question put is, that what has been taken for granted is, in all proba-
bility, not true. But before I proceed to give the reasons for the faith
that is in me I must, at the risk of being both technical and tedious
when I should wish to be neither, lead up to the understanding of them.

The spectroscope, however simple or complex it may be, is an in-
strument which allows us to observe the image of the slit through which
the light enters it, in the most perfect manner. If the light contains
rays of every wave-length, then the images formed by each will be so
close together that the spectrum will be continuous, that is, without
break. If the light contains only certain wave-lengths, then we shall
get certain, and not all, of the possible images of the slit, and the spec-
trum will be discontinuous.

Again, if we have an extremely complex light-source, let us say a
solid and a mixture of gases giving us light, and we allow the light to
enter, so to speak, indiscriminately into the spectroscope, then in each
part of the spectrum we shall get a summation — a complex record — of
the light of the same wave-length proceeding from all the different
light-waves. But if by means of a lens we form an image of the light-
source, so that each particular part shall be impressed in its proper
place on the slit-plate, then in the spectrum the different kinds of light
will be sorted out.

There is a simple experiment which shows clearly the different re-
sults obtained. If we observe the light of a candle with the spectro-
scope in the ordinary manner, that is, by placing the candle in front of
the slit at some little distance from it, we see a band of color — a contin-
uous spectrum — and in one particular part of the band we see a yellow
line, and occasionally in the green and in the blue parts of the band
other lines are observable. Now, if we throw an image of the candle
on to the slit — the slit being horizontal and the image of the candle ver-
tical— we then get three perfectly distinct spectra. We find that the
interior of the candle, that is the blue part (best observed at the bottom
of the candle), gives us one spectrum, the white part gives us another,
while on the outside of the candle, so faint as to be almost invisible to
the eye, there is a region which gives us a perfectly distinct spectrum
with a line in the yellow. In this way there is no difficulty whatever in
determining the coexistence of three light-sources, each with its proper
spectrum, in the light of a common candle.

"We see in a moment that much the same condition of affairs will be
brought about if, instead of using a candle, we use an electric arc, in
which the pure vapor of the substance which is being rendered incandes-
cent fills the whole interval between the poles, the number of particles
and degree of incandescence being smaller at the sides of the arc. We
can throw an image of such an horizontal arc on a vertical slit; the slit
will give then the spectrum of a section of the arc at right angles to its
length. The vapor which exists farthest from the core of the arc has a

THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS. 605

much more simple spectrum than that of the core of the arc itself. The
spectrum of the core consists of a large number of lines, all of which
die out until the part of it farthest from the center gives but one line.

In this way the spectrum of each substance furnishes us with long
and short lines, the long lines being common to the more and less in-
tensely heated parts of the arc, and the short lines special to the more
heated one. This is the first step.

It has been necessary to enter thus at length into the origin of the
terms long and short lines, because almost all the subsequent work
which need be referred to now has had for its object the investigation
of the phenomena presented by them under different conditions. The
first results obtained were as follows :

1. When a metallic vapor was subjected to admixture with another
gas or vapor, or to reduced pressure, I found that its spectrum became
simplified by the abstraction of the shortest lines and by the thinning
of many of the remaining ones. To obtain reduction of pressure, the
metals were inclosed in tubes in which a partial vacuum was produced.
In all these experiments it was found that the longest lines hivariably
remained visible longest.^

2. When we use metals chemically combined with a metalloid — in
other words, when we pass from a metal to one of its salts (I used
chlorine) — only the longest lines of the metal remain. The number is
large in the case of elements of low atomic weight, and small In the
case of elements of high atomic weight, and of twice the atom-fixing
power of hydrogen.

3. When we use metals mechanically mixed, only the longest lines
of the smallest constituent remain. On this point I must enlarge
somewhat by referring to a series of experiments recorded in the
*' Philosophical Transactions " (1873).

A quantity of the larger constituent, generally from five to ten
grammes, was weighed out, the weighing being accurate to the fraction
of a milligramme ; and the requisite quantity of the smaller constituent

' In the case of zinc the effect of these circumstances was very marked, and they may
be given as a sample of the phenomena generally observed. When the pressure-gauge
connected with a Sprengel pump stood at from 35 to 40 millimetres, the spectrum at the
part observed was normal, except that the two lines 4924 and 4911 (both of which, when
the spectrum is observed under the normal pressure, are lines with thick wings) were
considerably reduced in width. On the pump being started these lines rapidly decreased
in length, as did the line at 4679 — 4810 and 4721 being almost unaffected ; at last the
two at 4924 and 4911 vanished, as did 4679, and appeared only at intervals as spots on
the poles, the two 4810 and 4721 remaining little changed in length, though much in
brilliancy. This experiment was repeated four times, and on each occasion the gauge
was found to be almost at the same point, viz. :

1st observation, when the lines 4924 and 4911 were gone, the gauge

stood at 30 millimetres.
" " " 29 *'

" " " 29 "

" « t« 3j «

2d

((

3d

It

4th

((

6o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

was calculated to give, when combined, a mixtui'e of a definite percent-
age composition by weight (this being more easily obtainable than
a percentage composition by volume).

The quantities generally chosen were 10, 5, 1, and O'l per cent.

In a few cases, with metals known to have very delicate spectral
reactions, a mixture of 0"01 per cent, was prepared.

Observations were then made of the spectrum of each specimen, and
the result was recorded in maps in the following manner : First, the
pure spectrum of the smallest constituent was observed, and the lines
laid down from Thalen's map.

The series thus mapped was as follows :

Tin + Cadmium, percentages of Cd 10, 6, 1, 0'15
Lead + Zinc, " Zn 10, 5, 1, 0-1

Lead -l- Magnesium, " Mg 10, 1, 0-1, O'Dl

The observations showed that the lines of the smallest constituent
disappeared as the quantity got less. Although we had here the
germs of a quantitative spectrum analysis, the germs only were pres-
ent, because from the existence of several " critical points," and great
variations due to other causes, the results obtained were not constant.

In a subsequent research on the gold-copper alloys used in the
coinage, Mr. Roberts, the Chemist of the Mint, and myself were able
to show that the shortening in the length of the lines by reduced quan-
tity was such a definite physical effect following upon reduced quantity,
that a difference of j^q^qq part of copper in gold could be detected.

We are now in possession of the facts utilized in the work which
has led up to the subject discussed in the present paper.

They have been utilized along two perfectly distinct lines of
thought :

(1) They have been used in an attempt to enable us to produce a
spectrum of a substance free from lines due to the impurities which are
almost always present.

(2) They have been used to indicate the existence and amount of
dissociation when acknowledged compounds have been submitted to the
action of different and increasing temperatures.

I will deal with (1) first.

The elimination of impurity lines is conducted as follows : The spec-
trum of the element is first confronted with the spectra of the sub-
stances most likely to be present to impurities. This is most conve-
niently done by photographing the spectra on the same plate one above
the other, so that common lines are continuous.

The retention or rejection of lines coincident in two or more spectra
is detennined by observing in which spectrum the line is thickest ;
where several elements are mapped at once, all their spectra are con-
fronted on the same plate, as by this means the presence of one of the
substances as an impurity in the others can be at once detected.

THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS. 607

Lines due to impurities, if any are thus traced, are marked for omis-
sion from the map and their true sources recorded, while any line that
is observed to vary in length and thickness in the various photographs
is at once suspected to be an impurity line, and if traced to such is
likewise marked for omission. I give a case.

The two lines H and K (3933 and 3968), assigned both to iron and
calcium by Angstrom, are proved to belong to calcium in the following
way :

a. The lines are well represented in the spectrum of commercial
wrought iron, but are absolutely coincident with two thick lines in the
spectrum of calcium chloride with which the iron spectrum was con-
fronted.

b. The lines are represented by mere traces in the spectrum of a
specimen of pure iron prepared by the late Dr. Matthiessen, Both
poles of the lamp were of iron, the lower pole consisting of an ingot
of the metal which had been cast in a lime-mold.

C. The lines are altogether absent in a photograph of pure iron,
where both poles of the lamp were of the pure metal not cast in lime,
and they are likewise absent in a photograph of the spectrum of the
Lenarto meteorite.

By eliminating lines due to impurities in the manner just described,
a spectrum is at length obtained, of which every line is assignable to
the particular element photographed, the same temperature being em-
ployed in the case of all the elements observed.

With regard to the second line of work, I should commence by
stating that from a beautiful series of researches carried on by several
methods, Mitscherlich concluded in 1864 that every compound of the
first order, heated to a temperature adequate for the production of light^
is not decomposed, hut exhibits a spectrum peculiar to this compound.

In some experiments of my own, communicated to the Royal Societ}-
in 1873, I observed :

First. That whether the spectra of iodides, bromides, etc, be ob-
served in the flame or a weak spark, only the longest lines of the metals
are visible, showing that only a small quantity of the simple metal is
present as a result of partial dissociation, and that by increasing the
temperatiu-e, and consequently the amount of dissociation, the other
lines of the metal appear in the order of their length with each rise of
temperature.

Secondly. I convinced myself that wdiile in air, after the first ap-
plication of heat, the spectra and metallic lines are in the main the
same, in hydrogen the spectra are different for each compound, and
true metallic lines are represented according to the volatility of the
compound, only the very longest lines being visible in the spectrum of
the least volatile compound.

Thirdly. I found that with a considerable elevation of temperature
the spectrum of the compound faded almost into invisibility.

6o8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

These results enable us to make the following statement :

A compound body, such as a salt of calcium, has as definite a spec-
trum as that given by the so-called elements ; but while the spectrum
of the metallic element itself consists of lines, the number and thick-
ness of some of which increase with increased quantity, the spectrum
of the compound consists in the main of channeled spaces and bands,
which increase in like manner.

In short, the molecules of a simple body and a compound one are
affected in the same manner by quantity in so far as their spectra are
concerned ; in other words, both spectra have their long and short
lilies, the lines in the spectrum of the element being represented by
bands or fluted lines in the spectrum of the compound ; and in each
case the greatest simplicity of the spectrum depends upon the smallest
quantity, and the greatest complexity upon the greatest.

The heat required to act upon such a compound as a salt of calcium,
so as to render its spectrum visible, dissociates the compound according
to its volatility ; the number of true metallic lines which thus appear is
a measure of the quantity of the metal resulting from the dissociation,
and as the metal lines increase in number, the compound bands thin out.

These results bring us face to face with the subject-matter of the
recent work.

First with regard to impurity elimination. I find that, although the
method is good for detecting and eliminating impurities, there are still
short-line coincidences between metals which are pure.

This " higrher law " has come out in the followinof manner :

For the last four years I have been engaged upon the preparation
of a map of the solar spectrum on a large scale, the work including a
comparison of the Fraunhofer lines with those visible in the spectrum
of the vapor of each of the metallic elements in the electric arc.

To give an idea of the thoroughness of the work, at all events in
intention, I may state that the complete spectrum of the sun, on the
scale of the working map, will be half a furlong long ; that to map the
metallic lines and purify the spectra in the manner described, more
than 100,000 observations have been made and about 2,000 photographs
taken.

In some of these photographs we have vapors compared with the
sun ; in others vapors compared with each other ; and others again
have been taken to show which lines are long and which are short in
the spectra,

A rigorous application of the system of impurity elimination formed,
of course, a large part of the work.

The final reduction of the photographs of all the metallic elements
in the region 39-40 — a reduction I began in the early part of last year
— summarized all the observations of metallic spectra compared with
the Fraunhofer lines accumulated during the whole period of observa-
tion, and all the results of the impurity elimination.

THE CHEMICAL ELEMENTS. 609

Now this reduction has shown me that the hypothesis that identical
lines in different spectra are due to impurities is not sufficient. I show
in detail in the paper the hopeless confusion in which I have been
landed.

I find short-line coincidences between many metals the impurities of
which have been eliminated, or in which the freedom from mutual im-
purity has been demonstrated by the absence of the longest lines.

The explanation of this result on the hypothesis that the elements
are elementary does not lie on the surface, but it does on the assump-
tion that they are compounds and behave like them.

This is the first point. We now pass from the results brought
about at the same temperature with different substances to those ob-
served at different temperatures with the same substance.

I find that when the temperature is greathj varied^ the elements
behave spectroscopically exactly as compound bodies do, as we have
already seen. New lines are developed with increasing temperatures,
and others fade in precisely the same way as the metallic lines made
their appearance in the salts at the expense of the latter, which faded
too.

In short, the observations and reasoning which I formerly employed
to show how acknowledged compounds behaved in the spectroscope
are now seen to indicate the compound nature of the chemical elements
themselves.

In a paper communicated to the Royal Society in 1874, referring,
among other matters, to the reversal of some lines in the solar spec-
trum, I remarked :

It is obvious that greater attention will have to be given to the precise char-
acter as well as to the position of each of the Fraunhofer lines, in the thickness
of which I have already observed several anomalies. I may refer more particu-
larly at present to the two H lines 3933 and 3968 belonging to calcium, which
are much thicker in all photographs of the solar spectrum (I might have added
that they were by far the thickest lines in the solar spectrum) than the largest
calcium line of this region (4226-3), this latter being invariably thicker than the
H lines in all photographs of the calcium spectrum, and remaining, moreover,
visible in the spectrum of substances containing calcium in such small quantities
as not to show any traces of the H lines.

How far this and similar variations between photographic records and the
solar spectrum are due to causes incident to the photographic record itself, or to
variations in the intensities of the various molecular vibrations under solar and
terrestrial conditions, are questions which up to the present time I have been
unable to discuss.

The progress of the work has shown that the differences here indicated
are not exceptions, but are truly typical when the minute anatomy of
the solar spectrum is studied.

Kirchhoff, indeed, as early as 1869 seems to have got a glimpse of
the same thing, for in his memorable paper, which may justly be re-

6io THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

garded as the basis of all subsequent work, he is careful to state that
the sixty iron lines in the sun, to which he referred, only agree " as a
rule " in intensity with those observed in the electric spark. Those who
have given an account of his work have not always been so cautious.
Indeed, I find Professor Roscoe ' running far beyond the record in the
following sentence :

In order to map and determine the positions of the bright lines found in the
electric spectra of the various metals, Kirchhoff, as I have already stated, em-
ployed the dark lines in the solar spectrum as his guides. Judge of his aston-
ishment when he observed that dark solar lines occur in positions connected
with those of all the bright iron lines ! Exactly as the sodium lines were iden-
tical with Fraunhofer's lines, so for each of the iron lines, of which KirchhoflE

o

and Angstrom have mapped no less than 460, a dark solar line was seen to cor-
respond. Not only had each line its dark representative in the solar spectrum,
hut the 'breadth and degree of shade of the tico sets of lines icere seen to agree in
the most perfect manner, the brightest iron lines corresponding to the darkest solar
lines.

This statement w-as made to prove the absolutely identical nature
of the iron vapor in the sun's atmosphere and in the electric spark. As
the statement is not true, the vapors can hardly be identical.

Such, then, is the reasoning on which I base the two counts in the
indictment against the simple nature of the elementary bodies.

First, the common lines visible in the spectra of different elements
at high identical temperatures point to a common origin. Secondly,
the different lines visible in the spectra of the same substance at high
and low temperatures indicate that at high temperatures dissociation
goes on as continuously as it is generally recognized to do at all lower
temperatures.

In my paper I attempt to show that if we grant that the highest
temperatures produce common bases — in other words, if the elements
are really compounds — all the phenomena so difficult to account for on
the received hypothesis find a simple and sufficient explanation. And,
with regard to the second count, I discuss the cases of calcium, iron, lith-
ium, and hydrogen. I might have brought, and shall subsequently bring,
other cases forward. In all these I show that the lines most strongly
developed at the highest temperatures are precisely those which are
seen almost alone in the spectra of the hottest stars, and which are
most obviously present in the spectrum of our own sun. Now, if it be
true that the temperature of the arc breaks up the elements, then the
higher temperature of the sun should do this in a still more effective
manner. Here, then, we have a test.

I have put this question to the sun, and I have sent in a second
paper to the Royal Society embodying a preliminary discussion of Pro-
fessor Young's work at Sherman, Tacchini's observations, and my own.
In this paper I state my grounds for the belief that all the solar phe-
^ "Spectrum Analysis," third edition, p. 240.

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 611

nomena we have been watching with our spectroscopes for the last ten
years can not be explained on the existing- hypothesis, and that they
are simply and sufficiently accounted for by supposing that primordial
atoms are associated in the corona and dissociated in the reversing
layer.

In this way the vertical currents in the solar atmosphere, both as-
cending and descending, the intense absorption in sun-spots, their asso-
ciation with the faculae, and the ajyparently continuous spectrum of the
corona, and its structure, find an easy solution.

We are yet as far as ever from a demonstration of the cause of the
variation in the temperature of the sun ; but the excess of so-called cal-
cium with minimum sun-spots, and excess of so-called hydrogen with
maximum sun-spots, follow naturally from the hypothesis, and aiFord in-
dications that the temperature of the hottest region in the sun closely
approximates to that of the reversing layer in stars of the type of Sirius
and a Lyra.

-**^-

EXPEKIME^^TS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS.

By GEOEGE M. BEAED, M. D.

MR. JOHN STUART MILL, in the preface to his work on « Logic
and the Principles of Evidence," observes that while in the
search for truth we may be able, in some cases, to avoid errors in-
stinctively and successfully, although unable to formulate the method
by which we do so, yet it is an advantage not to be dispensed with
to have a rational understanding of the philosophy of reasoning, so that
we shall not be forced to depend alone on blind and irregular instinct.

In experimenting with living human beings there are six sources of
errors which instinctively physiologists and physicians sometimes guard
against and allow for, but which ought to be and can be, as I contend,
and shall here aim to prove, reduced to a positive science. As these
elements of error come in the main from the nervous system, their
study belongs preeminently to neurology, or the study of the nervous
system in health and disease ; and it is because of the backwardness
of this specialty that the subject has been thus far passed by.

The deficiencies of our knowledge of this subject were forced on

' An abstract of a portion of this paper was read before the American Neurological
Association at New York, June, 1878. This essay relates to questions suggested in my
series of papers on "The Scientific Study of Human Testimony," published in the May,
June, and July (1878) numbers of the " Monthly," and may be of service to those who are
interested in that subject. This department of science is of especial interest at the pres-
ent time, when the experiments of Charcot and the criticisms upon them are exciting so
much attention.

6i2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

my attention several years ago, when I was engaged in the study of the
physiology of mind-reading, and making experiments in mental thera-
peutics ; and in essays published on those topics I briefly noted these
errors, which I was obliged to study out, and without any theoretical
guide or precedent. I found that the whole matter — the importance
and interest of which were of the very highest, practically as well as
scientifically — was as unexplored as central Africa, and that it was
necessary to hew one's way clear of infinite obstructions at every
step.

From the elevation of this subject to a positive science these two
practical benefits must flow :

1. The world will be spared the reports of such experiments as those
of the physician who examined into the condition of the hysterical girls
that were the cause of the Salem witchcraft epidemic, and of the com-
mittees of the French Academy, of Gregory and of Elliotson and others,
with clairvoyance and mesmeric trance ; of Crookes with Home, of
Wallace and Zollner with Slade, and, latest of all, of Parkhurst and
others with Mollie Fancher; of Charcot, Westphal, and their coadju-
tors with metalloscopy and metal-therapeutics ; and will at the same
time be able to reach the solid truth that lies behind all such accredited
phenomena. These experiments and these reports are often made by
strong and earnest men ; indeed, the abler the experimenter in the
present state of the subject, the worse his experiments and his reports
of these experiments : instead of arriving at the truth of many ques-
tions of physiology, we get farther and farther from it the more we
study them.

2. There will be more precision to all our investigations in regard
to the action of remedies, and especially of new remedies. At the
present time vp-e know not whether to believe or reject any report of
the virtues of any new medicine or mode of treatment, however high
the authority for the reports, for we feel instinctively the elements of
error which those who introduce new remedies and modes of treatment
ought to know, and in time will know and rationally provide for.

3. Men of narrow or but limited ability will be able to attain accu-
rate results in experimenting with living human beings where now
the strongest scientific geniuses of the world are every day failing
abjectly and humiliatingly. Sir William Hamilton, in his work on
" Logic," remarks most truly that the proud boast of Bacon that, by
the system of inductive philosophy, it would be possible for ordinary
men to make discoveries in science, has been strictly fulfilled : every
day under the light of the inductive method very commonplace minds
are finding new and important facts that go to swell the current of sci-
ence. Genius of the first order is rare, and in every field of knowledge
the details of cultivation must be worked out by the average man ; the
bulk of the work is done, always has been done, and probably always
will be donCj by talent rather than by genius.

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 613

The elements of error in experimenting with inanimate objects
were indicated, in a general way, by Bacon, under the strange headings
" Idols of the Tribe," " Of the Den," " Of the Forum," " Of the The-
atre"; and later writers on evidence and the principles of science have
repeated or assumed the Baconian formulas ; but the special elements
of error in experimenting with living human beings have escaped con-
scious and exhaustive analysis. To have formulated these elements of
error much sooner than the present time would have been quite impos-
sible, for our knowledge of the involuntary life — one of the most im-
portant factors — was far too limited.

The science and art of experimenting with living human beings is
indeed now in precisely the same state as the general philosophy of in-
duction prior to the time of Bacon. Before the era of the Baconian
philosophy, indeed in all eras, men had instinctively employed the in-
ductive method, but the principles of that method had never been for-
mulated ; consequently, when philosophers reasoned or attempted to
reason on the subject, they almost always went wrong. The philosophy
of Bacon applies only to inanimate nature ; of the art of seeking truth
through experiments on living human beings — of the six sources of
error in all such experiments and the means of guarding against them
— he knew nothing, and evidently suspected nothing ; and that branch
of philosophy — of such vast import in biological investigations — has re-
mained to this day unstudied and almost unthought of; hence, although
some experimenters are saved through their instincts, others — and those
the very ablest scientific geniuses of the age — never attempt to reason
on the subject without falling into serious error.

In experimenting with living human beings there are, as above
stated, just six sources of error, all of which are to be recognized and
systematically and, if possible, also simultaneously guarded against if
our results are to command the confidence and homage of science. To
be guilty of overlooking, in any research, even one of these six possi-
bilities of error, is to be guilty of overlooking all, and practically to
vitiate all the results of our labors.

These six sources of error are as follows :

First Source of Error : The phenomena of the involuntary life
in both the experimenter and the subject experimented on. — Under this
head are embraced trance, with all its manifold symptoms, and all the
interactions of mind and body that are below the plane of volition or
of consciousness or of both. Without a knowledge of this side of
physiology, scientific experimenting with living human beings is impos-
sible. It is a want of this knowledge that makes most of the experi-
ments of scientific men in this department during the past century so
unsatisfactory and so ludicrous.

SEC0^^) Source of Error : Unconscious deception on the part
of the subject exjyerimented on. — This unconscious deception comes

6i4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

through the involuntary life — the mind of the subject acting on the
body — and producing results which, it is to be noted, are as decided, as
uniform, and as permanent as when produced by powerful objective
influences. This element of error slips into all the ordinary experi-
ments with new remedies and supposed new forces in the animal body,
thus corrupting science at its very sources. The neglect of this
element of error would of itself, even though all the other errors were
guarded against, destroy entirely the scientific value of all such experi-
ments, for example, as those of the committees of the French Academy
with clairvoyants and mesmerism ; it is because physicians of experi-
ence instinctively feel this element of error, that reports of cases
wrought by novel and strange and especially by imposing methods of
treatment are so frequently discredited. Under this head come also
all the so-styled miracles of healing, whatever may be the paraphernalia
through which they are accomplished.

I know not where can be found a better single illustration of the
effect of this element of error, alone of itself, in scientific research,
when all the other elements of error seem to be provided for, than in
the experiments on animal magnetism of the late Dr. J. K. Mitchell, as
recorded in the volume of his miscellaneous writings. Dr. Mitchell
was an original thinker, an observer of patience and care, and a clear
and logical writer, who suggested more than he told, and his chapter on
animal magnetism was incomparably the best essay ever written on that
subject down to the date of its publication. This paper — which con-
sisted of a record of independent, careful, and many times repeated
experiments on living human beings, witli remarks thereon — shows that
the author not only had the courage and the power to do his own think-
ing and experimenting, but that he recognized some of the chances of
error in experiments of this kind, and fortified himself against them ;
while of the errors that enter through the doors of the involuntary life —
the unconscious deception of the subject experimented on — he knew,
and apparently suspected, little. His essay is therefore at once a
model and a warning : a model for thoroughness and precision up to a
certain point, or within a limited area ; a warning as demonstrating the
worthlessness of all experiments with human beings when any one or
two of the six sources of mistake are overlooked. So accurate and
scientific were these experiments, in certain directions, that they have
furnished an important contribution to our knowledge of some of the
symptoms of mesmerism, in spite of the fact that the author failed,
like hundreds of able men in science before him, to solve the problem
of the nature of trance. By not understanding and taking into account
the phenomena of the involuntary life, of which in his day very little
was known, and of trance, of which nothing was known, this acute and
philosophic observer allowed the subjects on whom he operated to con-
stantly deceive themselves and deceive him, and to drive him to the
logical but absolutely false conclusion that the mesmeric trance was an

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 615

objective state induced by a supposed fluid, or force, or influence, then
and now known as animal magnetism.

In order to be able always to guard effectively and absolutely against
these two sources of error that I have thus far specified, just two things
are necessary for the experimenter :

1. A general knowledge of the phenomena of the involuntary
life, including both the action of mind on body and of body on mind, in
health and in disease, and especially of the real nature and philosophy
of trance, the state in which the involuntary life culminates.

2. The subject experimented on must always be deceived in the
experiments in such a way that this involuntary action of his mind
or bodj' can not come in and destroy the experiment. The subject may
be successfully deceived in three different ways, which I shall presently
specify.

Burq, Charcot, Westphal, and their coadjutors in the now well-known
metalloscopy experiments, failed on both of these points. Many of the
critics of those experiments, as Althaus, Reynolds, and other physicians
in England, also failed to com^Drehend these points, hence the incon-
sistency and unsatisfactoriness of the discussions to which these experi-
ments gave rise. The claim of Burq and Charcot and Westphal in
regard to the temporary relief of hj'sterical and sometimes of organic
anaesthesia by the local application of metals might be entirely true, but
thus far they have failed, in a scientific sense, to prove it to be true.
I do not deny their results — indeed, there is a possibility that some of
them may be genuine — although in my own experience with the same
method I fail to confirm their claims ; it is in the manner in which the
experiments were conducted, without regard to the results, that the non-
expertness of these experimenters appeared. The criticism I have to
make on Charcot is that, in his elaborate lectures on this subject, he
nowhere gives evidence of a full appreciation of the power of the
involuntary life, particularly in hysterical conditions, or of the true and
only method of systematically and successfully guarding against it.
The experiments now going on under the same superintendence in the
hospital of Salpetriere with mesmeric trance, and with the effects of
magnets and lights on catalepsy and kindred conditions, are all open to
the same criticism.

If some savage fresh from the jungles were put on board of an
engine, and told how to open the valves, he might very naturally infer
that his own feeble strength caused the train to move ; in like man-
ner, scientific experimenters with living human beings attribute the
phenomena that follow the application of metals and magnets and
passes and flummeries solely to the objective influence of these appli-
ances, whereas in truth these and similar performances but serve to let
on the potent forces of the subject's own mind. The mistake of these
philosophers is indeed quite analogous to that of the little boy who,

6i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

when placed on the front seat of the carriage, pleases himself with the
fancy that he is guiding the horse, when all the time his strong father
behind him is quietly holding and pulling the reins. In all experiments
with living human beings, as in the special branch that we call thera-
peutics, it is oftentimes not what we do, but how we do it, that deter-
mines the results.

As regards this first point — the action of mind on body — I may say
that, by a series of experiments not yet published, but a brief abstract
of which has been twice presented to this Association, it has been
proved that, by properly turning the mind of the patient on his body,
through excitations of the emotions of wonder and special expectation,
it is possible not only to relieve for the time various functional dis-
eases, but in many instances to perfectly and permanently cure them ;
and it was also shown that organic or structural diseases may be
relieved in the same way, in some cases, more satisfactorily than by any
objective medical treatment whatever. The method by Avhich the emo-
tions are to be acted upon for the purposes of mental therapeutics are
now so far organized into a science that any one who will make himself
practically familiar with the subject can obtain the same results. The
first mistake of Charcot and his coadjutors in France, and his followers
in England and in Germany, was in assuming that such effects as the
orderly, uniform reappearance of the sense of the different colors in
hysterical women, and the spnmetrical transference of sensory phe-
nomena from one side of the body to the other, under the local appli-
cation of metallic disks in hemianeesthesia, could not be produced
subjectively by the mind of the patient. Such an assumption would
never have been made by any one who had performed or witnessed the
experiments in mental therapeutics of which I have spoken ; for, again
and again, not only in hysteria, but in other forms of disease, and in
conditions not distinctively nervous, I have obtained results which, in
definiteness, in quantity, and in permanence, are far more imposing,
proving beyond question that, when all the sources of error were con-
sidered and provided for, the results were entirely independent of any
objective power in the means employed — were, in short, subjective
purely ; applications of metals, or wood, or paper, or no applications at
all, provided the subject expected them, being equally effective.

Science is not a matter of opinion ; its very essence is demonstra-
tion ; and the question whether, in any given experiments, the results
are subjective or objective, can be brought entirely out of all discussion
and all opinion, provided the elements of error are understood and
avoided. Indeed, all discussion in scientific matters must be, in logical
strictness, unscientific : if we know anything, there may be need for
statement, of explanation, of illustration, but none for discussion ; if we
do not know, the course of wisdom is to keep silence until we do.
With the formulated six sources of error before them, and the methods
of protecting themselves against them, the experiments of Charcot

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 617

would never have been discussed, even for a moment, in any scientific
body.

The three methods of deceiving the subject by which alone the
element of error from mind acting on body can be eliminated, and the
results of experiments with living human beings transferred from the
i-ealra of opinion to science or positive knowledge, are these :

1. By doing something when the subject experimented on believes
that we are doino- nothino-.

2. By doing nothing when the subject believes that we are doing
something.

3. By doing something different from what the subject believes is
being done.

In experiments of importance, as where radical and overwhelming
discoveries in science are claimed to be made, all of these methods of
deceiving should be used ; and it is because they are not used in the
experiments of scientific men that we are constantly compelled to face
and listen to the claims of " animal magnetism," of "odic force " of
"spiritism," of "cundurango," of "blue glass," and, during the past
year, of " Mollie Fancher,'' of " metalloscopy," and " metal-therapeu-
tics,"

A classical example of one method of deception in experiments of
this character was afforded by the expose of the performances of mes-
merized or professedly mesmerized girls by Mr. Wakley, of the Lon-
don "Lancet," A good example of neglect of this deception, as well
as of ignorance of the relation of mind to body, is found in the experi-
ments of Dr. Vansant with magnets, as published by him a few years
ago. This writer gives an immense number of differential symptoms
that, as he claims, are produced by the north and south poles of the
magnet ; his experiments were in the same line with the famous Per-
kins tractors, though apparently more scientific ; the same criticism
applies to the researches that are now being made in the Salpetri^re
Hospital in Paris, where, according to the testimony of experts who
have witnessed them, and the statements of the experimenters them-
selves, no systematic deception is employed or even suggested.

That even the strongest leaders in physiology are not fully armed
against the errors that beset experimental research, when living human
beings are the subjects, 'is shown in the not long ago published Lowell
Lectures of Professor Brown-Sequard, wherein that master in experi-
mental study through the processes of vivisection declares that the
claims of telling of time through the back of the head are authentic.
Deductive reasoning for ever disproves this claim, which any inductive
research, properly conducted, must always confirm ; but any test to be
of value must, at every step, shut out absolutely all the six avenues of
error ; and the report of any test, in order to be worth reading, must
clearly state and show that all such errors were so excluded.

VOL. XIV. — 40

6i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

Experiments in physics are likewise, in some instances, complicated
with experiments with living human beings. Thus in the " Keely
motor " and " Winter motor " claims, and in other like devices for the
overthrow of the law of the conservation of energy, the apparatus for
generating power was in the hands of interested non-experts, who
might be capable of either willful or self-deception — for the purposes of
science it matters not which — and no satisfactory experiment could be
made unless these possibilities of error could be eliminated.

The temporary success of cundurango was almost entirely the re-
sult of self-deception of those who, under the mingled emotions of hope,
despair, and expectation, availed themselves of it. It is impossible to
introduce any drug or system of treatment for cancer, or any other
grave disorder, amid great pomp and noise, and under the patronage
of honored names, without at least relieving, for the time, a certain
proportion of cases ; and practically it is of little import what the drug
or remedy may be, if only the confidence of the sufferers is assured.

Men not only of general but of special experimental ability are con-
stantly going far out of the way in scientific research through want of
simple knowledge of the laws and phenomena of the involuntary life —
a branch of physiology which, though of extreme interest and overflow-
ing in suggestion, is so young and recent in its development that it is
not yet taught in colleges or schools. The published monographs of
the late Mr. Braid, of Manchester, show indisputably that their author
was not without a certain genius for scientific research ; but in all his
philosophizing on the effects of fixed attention and straining of the
eyes in the production of what has been known as hj^notism he missed
utterly the discovery, or even the suspicion, of the great fact that
trance, of which hypnotism is but one of numberless phases, was a sub-
jective not an objective condition — existing in the subject's own brain
— and that the manoeuvrings by which he was wont to excite it were
but one of infinite devices for acting upon the mind ; thus Mr. Braid
failed to solve the problem of trance. Similarly Professor Czermak —
one of the inventors of the laryngoscope — though he made many ex-
periments in the production of hypnotism in animals, likewise con-
founded the subjective with the objective, and did not arrive at the
true explanation of his own experiments. Indeed, from the time of
Mesmer down, all or nearly all the scientific studies and attempted scien-
tific studies of trance, in any of its multiform phases, have been made
valueless by this same non-recognition of the involuntary life, of which
trance is the extreme expression. Confounding the subjective with the
objective vitiates nearly all human philosophy.

Similarly Mr. Edison, in his experiments with those highly interest-
ing phenomena that he supposes to indicate a new force, was so far
misled by the muscular contractions of the tongue when applied to a
block of iron, through which the suspected force was passing, as to
•conclude that an objective influence was acting, whereas, after the ele-

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 619

ment of error from the expectation of the experimenter was eliminated,
it was quickly shown that the contractions were entirely subjective. Mr!
Edison, I may say, is not only an inventor of phenomenal genius, but
likewise a skilled and practiced experimentalist, and, as I found when
making these and similar investigations with him, extraordinarily fertile
in resources of method and device for wresting the secrets from na-
ture, and usually alert against subtile sources of error ; but, when drawn
. into the province of the involuntary life, he found himself, like men
of science in general, insufficiently equipped with knowledge to even
surmise, not to say provide for, the errors that may arise from the un-
conscious or involuntary action of mind on body.

In some instances the reverse mistake is made, and phenomena of
the involuntary life are supposed to be volitional. In the case of the
" Maine jumpers " or so-called " jumping Frenchmen " of Canada and
the Maine woods— the incredible performances of which I have elsewhere
described— it had for years been assumed, both by men of science and
by the laity, that the movements were intentional, and within control.
This conclusion, though most erroneous, was quite a natural one for
those who have no knowledge of the relation of mind to its physical
substratum.

An illustration of the second method of deception — doing nothing
when the subject supposes we are doing something— is professing to
apply electricity, putting the electrodes in position, and going through
the motions, when no current is running, or when the connection is
broken ; in this way I have several times proved that patients were
mistaken in inferring that electrical applications injured them; and,
conversely, I have been able in one striking case to prove that the pa-
tient was right, and that a certain symptom was temporarily aggravated
by the application.

Third Source of Error : Intentional deception on the part of the,
subject.— T\i\^ element of error is so obvious that it would seem to be
quite needless to refer to it ; and yet it is constantly overlooked even
in researches conducted by physiologists. To assume, as is often or
usually done, that the subject on whom the experiment is made is hon-
est in his relation to that experiment, because he has a general charac-
ter for honesty, is always unscientific ; and all experiments where such
assumption is made must be ruled out of science.

Intentional as well as unintentional deception on the part of the
subject can only be scientifically met by deception on the part of the
experimenter. The methods of deceiving already described suffice to
guard against all deception on the part of the subject, whether inten-
tional or unintentional.

It is clear proof of the non-expertness of Zollner, Wallace, Charcot,
and Westphal, that in their published accounts of experiments with
living human beings they assumed that, if the subjects were honest, the

620 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

results of the experiments must be accepted by science. Scientifically
it makes no diflFerence whether the subject on whom any such experi-
ment is performed is honest or dishonest; the experiments are to be
made without any reference to the moral character of the subject.

Fourth Soubce of Error : Unintentional collusion of third par-
ties.—By third parties are meant audiences, witnesses, bystanders, or
assistants seen or unseen.

The best iUustration of error from this source is the aid which audi-
ences in the mind-reading experiments give to the performer by their
silence, when he wanders away from the object looked for, and by their
murmurs and applause when he approaches or reaches it. This is quite
analogous to the cry of " hot " or " cold " in the game of " bhnd-man s-
bufF." So natural is it for errors from this cause to enter these inves-
tigations that I found it necessary, in all my researches in that depart-
ment, to send all witnesses from the room, or to insist on then: bemg
absolutely sUent, and even motionless, at every stage of the experiments.

Fifth Source of Error : Intentional collusion of third parties.
—Under tHs head comes the aid which assistants, known or unknown,
designedly give to the subject experimented on. This, in the abstract,
is one of the more readily suspected of all the six sources of error, but
in the concrete very difficult to guard against, or even to detect, as is
so brilliantly Ulustrated in the conjuring tricks of Houdin and Heller,
and it may be added also, in the operations of so-called " confidence-

men."

The best and most mystifying tricks of illusionists, and sleight-of-
hand performers of all kinds, are almost always done through some form
of collusion, the time and method of which are so artfully arranged that
only those of unusual acuteness or expert skill can at once detect them.
The astounding success of clairvoyants and mediums in telling people
what they already know, but which they suppose can not be known to
the witch they are consulting, is oftentimes explamed by this fifth

source of error. , • j v

Intentional, deliberate deception, where no money is to be gamed by
deception, is much more common among the better classes than those
who have not specially studied this subject would be willing to believe :
it is an instructive fact in the psychology of lying, that some persons
—usually, though not always, women— whose general character is of the
highest, are in some special direction absolutely systematically untruthful
all their lives long. An old merchant of New York once told me that a
clerk in his employ, trustworthy in all business affairs, exact, scrupulous,
just, had a habit of telling large stories in regard to what he had seen
and done so firmly fixed that it was organically impossible for him to
restrict himself to the facts, and that his statements in regard to matters
outside of business were worthy of absolutely no credence.

I was once requested by a valued medical friend to aid him in some
experiments with a case of alleged sixth sense, or the asserted power of

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 621

reading without the use of the eyes. The subject who made the claim
was a lady of education, culture, and social position, universally and justly
respected. In answer to the request, I stated that by deductive reason-
ing it was established as firmly as the Copernican theory, or the law of
the persistence of force, that no human creature could have any such
power, and that therefore it would be unscientific to investigate any such
claim ; but as an amusement, and for the sake of determining whether
the deception was intentional or unintentional, I would suggest and pre-
pare some tests in which all the six sources of error would be excluded.
This was done. The tests were of course not taken, but the result of
the investigation was to demonstrate the interesting psychological fact
tliat for years a graceful and agreeable lady had been deceiving not
only strangers and friends, but even her own husband, by means of the
very old and familiar "ballot-trick," and a not especially adroit method
of performing it. The puzzling cases of starving girls, of invalid clair-
voyants, of mediumship, that are constantly infesting and astonishing
civilized society, are in many instances to be similarly explained. The
"mind-readers" were originally self-deceived, since the physiological
interpretation of that phenomenon is too complex and profound to be
suggested, not to say comprehended, by the mass of those who are ac-
customed to practice that art. But at the present time the public per-
formers probably understand, in a general way, the philosophy of their
success, at least enough to know that their claims of a sixth sense are
baseless.

Lying, like stealing, may become a passion, and, in like manner also,
may concentrate all its force in some one direction, for folly as well as
wisdom has its specialties and hobbies : there is a monomania for de-
ceiving, where naught is gained save its own gratification ; one who is
in all other directions honorable and just may become an inebriate of
falsifying, and be half his days intoxicated thereby.

-<^'*-

ATHEISM AXD THE CHUKCH.

Br Eev. G. TI. CUETEIS.

/^MNIA EXEUNT IX— Theologiam.' No branch of science appears
v^ to consider itself complete, nowadays, until it has issued at last
into the vexed ocean of theology. Thus, Biology writes "Lay
Sermons " in Professor Huxley ; Physics acknowledges itself almost
Christian in Professor Tyndall ; Anthropology claims to be religious
m Mr. Darwin ; and Logic, in Mr. Spencer, confesses that " a religious
system is a normal and essential factor in every evolving society." "

' Everything issues into theology.

2 Spencer, "Sociology " (seventh edition, 1878), p. 313.

62 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

It is only the second-rate men of science who loudly vaunt their
ability to do without religion altogether, and proclaim their fixed and
unchangeable resolve for its entire suppression. As well resolve to
suppress the Gulf Stream or the eccentricity of the earth's orbit ! If
the horizon of man's thought is bounded on all sides by mystery, it is
in simple obedience to the law of his nature that he gives some shape
to that mystery. It were mental cowardice to shrink from facing it ; it
were positive imbecility to declare that the coast -line between known
and unknown had no shape at all. Granted that the line be a slowly
fluctuating one, and that conquests here and losses there reveal them-
selves in course of time, and one day become " striking " to the com-
monest observer, does that fact acquit of folly the Agnostic statement
that, now and here, there is no thinkable line at all, no features to be
described, nothing to sketch, no appreciable curves and headlands, no
conception possible which shall integrate (for practical utility) that
great Beyond whose boundaries, on the hither side at least, are known
to us ? Men who can only attend to one thing at a time, and whose
" one thing " is the field of a microscope or " the anatomy of the
lower part of the hindmost bone of the skull of a carp," ' may perhaps
escape the common lot of manhood by ceasing to be "men," in any
ordinary sense of the word. But, for people who live in the open air
and sunshine of common life, there is the same necessity for a religion
as there is for that mental map of our whereabouts that we all carry
with us in our brains. Let any one recall his sensations when he has
at any time been overtaken in a fog or a snow-storm, and when all his
bearings have been blotted out, then he will readily understand the
need which all men feel for a theology of some kind, and he will appre-
ciate what the old-school divines meant when they said that " Theology
was the queen and mistress of the sciences," harmonizing and gathering
up into architectonic unity all the multifarious threads that the sub-
ordinate sciences had spun.

I. One is driven, nowadays, to repeat both in public and private
these very obvious reflections, owing to the extraordinary persistence
with which certain philosophers think fit to inform us that we are all
making a great mistake ; that we can do very well without a religion ;
^d that, though it is true " man can not live by bread alone," but
must have ideas, yet the creed b}"- which he maj' very well make shift
to live is this — " Somethistg is." * In point of brevity there is here
little to desire. The Apostles' Creed is prolix by comparison, and
although we might fairly take exception to " some-thing," as embody-
ing two very concrete acts of the imagination, and therefore capable

' Cf. Mivart, " Contemporary Evolution " (1876), p. 134.

* Physicus, "Examination of Theism " (1878), p. 142: "What was the essential
substance of that [atheistic] theory? Apparently it was the bare statement of the
unthinkable fact that Something Is. The essence of atheism I take to consist in the
single dogma of self-existence as itself sufficient to constitute a theory of things."

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 623

of further logical " purification," it were ungenerous to press the
objection too far. This creed is purer than that of Strauss : *' We
believe in no God, but only in a self-poised and, amid eternal changes,
constant uuiversum," ' It is wider than that of Hartmann : " God is
a personification of force." * It is simpler than that of Matthew Ar-
nold : God is " a power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness." '
It is more intelligible than that of J. S. Mill : " A Being of great but
limited power, how or by what limited we can not even conjecture " —
a notion found also in Lucretius and in Seneca.* It is more theo-
logical than that of Professor Huxley : " The order of nature is ascer-
tainable by our faculties, and our volition counts for something in the
course of events." * It is similar to that of the ancient Brahmans :
" That which can not be seen by the eye, but by which the eye sees,
that is Brahma ; if thou thinkest thou canst know it, then thou know-
est it very little ; it is reached only by him who says, ' It is ! it is ! ' " '
And considering that this formula is very nearly what is said also by
the Fathers of the Church, what better formula concordim ' between
science and theism could we require ? For instance, Clemens Alexan-
drinus (a. d. 300) echoes St. Paul's " Know Him, sayest thou ! rather
art known of him," with the confession, " We know not what he is,
but only what he is not"; Cyril of Jerusalem (a. D, 350) says, "To
know God is beyond man's powers "; St. Augustine (a. d. 400), " Rare
is the mind that in speaking of God knows what it m^ans "; John of
Damascus (a. d. 800), " What is the substance of God or how he exists
in all things, we are Agnostics, and can not say a word"; and in the
middle ages, Duns Scotus (a. d. 1300) : " Is God accessible to our rea-
son ? I hold that he is not." ®

It seems, then, there is a consensus among all competent persons,
who have ever thought deeply on the subject, that the real nature of
that Power which underlies all existing things is absolutely unknown
to man. And it is allowable, therefore, in the last resort, to faU back
upon Spinoza's word "sub-stance"; and to accept — if charity so
require — as the common basis for theological reunion, the Agnostic
formula, " Something Is."

But then, unless some means be found for instantly paralyzing the

restless energy of human inquiry, the next question is inevitable :

What is that Something? What are its qualities, its attributes?

' Strauss, " Der alte und der neue Glaube" (fourth edition, 1873), p. 116.

5 Hartmann, " Gott und Naturwissenschaft " (second edition, 18'72), p. 14.

2 M. Arnold, " Literature and Dogma," p. 306.

4 J. S. Mill, " Essays on Religion," p. 124. Cf. Lucretius, vi., and Seneca, Nat. Qu.
1 1.

^ Huxley, " Lay Sermons."

8 The " Upanishad " : ap. Clarke's "Ten Great Religions," p. 84.

' Formula of agreement.

8 Gal. iv. 9; Clem. Alex., Strom, v. 11 ; Cyr. Jer., Cat. Lect. xi. 3 ; Aug., Confe.ss.
liii. 11 ; Joh. Dam., De Fide Orthod. i. 2 ; Duns Scotus, In Sent. i. 3. 1.

624 "THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

How are we to conceive of it ? Given (in Aristotelian phrase) its
ovGia^ what is its ■notOTifiq^ its TToa6rr]g,^ and the rest, which go to make
up its idea ? " Existence " is, after all, only one of our three necessary
forms of thought : " Space " and " Time " are also necessary to our
thinking. And it is in vain for pure logicians to put on papal airs, to
forbid the question, to cry N^on possumus,* and to stifle all free thinking.
It is useless to say : " We have already, with razors of the utmost fine-
ness, split and resplit every emergent phenomenon ; we have, by assid-
uous devotion to the one single and undisturbed function of analysis,
examined every possible conception that man can form, and have
discovered everywhere compound notions, ideas that are ' impure '
and capable of further logical fissures : salvation is only possible by
the confession that 'Something Is'; there rest and be thankful!"
It is all of no avail. Naturam expellas furca^ — she is sure to return
in armed revolt, and to demand, Who told thee that thou wast thus
nakedly equipped ? Reason is one thing ; but imagination is also an-
other. If analysis is a power of the human mind, so also is synthesis.
If you can not think at all without using the one, neither can you
without employing the other. Take, for instance, a process of the
" purest " mathematics — " twice six is twelve"; you were taught that
probably with an abacus, and the ghost of the abacus still lingers in
your brain. " The square of the hypotenuse ": you saw that once in
a figured Euclid, and you learned thereby to form any number of
similar mental figures for yourself. No : you may call the methods by
which mankind think " impure," or attach to them any other deroga-
tory epithet you please ; but mankind will deride you for your pains,
and will reply : " The philosopher who will only breathe pure oxygen
will die ; he that walks on one leg, and declines to use the other, will
cut but a sorry figure in society ; he that uses only one eye will never
get a stereoscopic view of anything. Use, man, the compound instru-
ment of knowledge your nature has provided for you, and you will both
see and live." Why, even so determined a logician as " Physicus " is
obliged sometimes to admit that " this symbolic method of reasoning is,
from the nature of the case, the only method of scientific reasoning
which is available." ® And Professor Tyndall, in the November number
of another Review, after complaining that " it is against the m}i:hologic
scenery of religion that Science enters her protest," finds himself also
obliged to mythologize ; for he adds (seven pages further on) : " How
are we to figure this molecular motion ? Suppose the leaves to be
shaken from a birch-tree, . . . and, to fix the idea, suppose each leaf,"
etc. And so Professor Cooke writes :

I can not agree with those who regard the wave-theory of light as an estab-
lished principle of science. . . . There is something concerned in the phenomena
of light which has definite dimensions. "We represent these dimensions to our

1 Essence. ^ Quality. 3 Quantity. "* We can not.

5 Put nature out with a pitchfork. * " Examination of Theism," p. 84.

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 625

imagination as wave-lengths, and tee shall find it difficult to thinh clearly upon
the subject without the aid of this wave-theory." *

In short, it is obvious that without the help of this mythologic, poetic,
image-forming faculty, all our pursuit of truth were in vain. And there-
fore, starting from the common basis of a confession that "something
is," we are more than justified, we are obeying a necessary law of our
nature, in asking what that eternal substratum of existence is, and with
what morphologic aid the imagination may best present it for our con-
templation.

But here the pure logician may perhaps retort : " You forget that
the conceptions men form of things are, at their very best, nothing
more than human, and therefore relative conceptions. A fly or a fish
probably sees things differently. And an inliabitant of Mercury or
Saturn might form a conception of the universe bearing little resem-
blance to yours." ^ Quite true ; but logicians there, too, would proba-
bly be heard to complain that, colored by Saturnian or Mercurian rela-
tivities, truth was sadly impure, and was, in fact, attained by no one
but themselves. Nay, in those other worlds priests of Logic might be
found so wrapped in superstition as to launch epithets of contempt on
all who approached to puncture their inflated fallacies, and who devout-
ly believed that a syllogism did not contain a petitio principii * neatly
wrapped up in its own premises, and an induction was not an applica-
tion of a preexisting general idea, but a downright discovery of abso-
lute truth. If from such afflictions we on earth are free, it is because
the common sense of mankind declares itself serenely content with the
relative and the human ; because, while fully aware (from our schoolboy
daj's) that all our faculties — reason among the rest — are limited and
earthly, we have faith that " all is well " in mind, as it certainly is in
matter ; and because we smile at the simplicity of our modern wran-
glers, who can only analyze down as far as " Something," when their
Buddhist masters two thousand years ago had dug far deeper, viz., to
N0TH12JG :

The mind of the supreme Buddha is swift, quick, piercing, because he is in-
finitely " pure." Nirwana is the destruction of all the elements of existence. The
being who is "purified" knows there is no Ego, no self; aU the afflictions con-
nected with existence are overcome, all the principles of existence are annihi-
lated, and that annihilation is Nu-wana.*

The Churchman, therefore, holds himself so far justified in claiming

1 Coolce, "Tlie New Cfiemistvy " (fourth edition, 1878), p. 22.

2 " Physicus " (p. 143) rides this logical bobby far beyond the confines of the sublime.
He demands of the tlieist to show that his " God is something more than a mere causal
agent which is ' absolute ' in the grotesquely restricted sense of being independent of one
petty race of creatures with an ephemeral experience of what is going on in one tiny cor-
ner of the universe."

* Begging the question.

* Hardy, "Eastern Monachism," p. 291.

626 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the modern atheist as his ally. They are at least traveling both togeth-
er on the high-road which leads from a destructive nihilism toward a
constructive religion. Only the atheist has thought it his duty to go
back again to the beginning, and to measure industriously the same
ground that the Church had gone over just two thousand four hundred
years ago, when the great " Something is " addressed itself to man
through Moses in the word " I am," or Jehovah (nins, Absolute Exist-
ence).*

But perhaps the pure logician may attempt another reply. Finding
us not in the least disconcerted by hearing, once again, the familiar
truth that all our faculties are limited, he may attempt to shatter our
serenity by an announcement of a more novel kind. He maj' say : Not
only is the imagery with which you clothe, represent, and conceive the
Self -existent merely relative and human, but — far more damning fact —
it is all a development. It has all grown with the growth of your race.
Environment and heredity have supplied you with all your forms of
thought. Even your " conscience is nothing more than an organized
body of certain psychological elements which, by long inheritance, have
come to inform us by way of intuitive feeling how we should act for
the benefit of society." ^

Be it so. The proof has not yet been made ov;t. But since these
evolution doctrines are (as Dr. Newman would say) "in the air," it is
more consonant to the ruling ideas which at present dominate our im-
agination to conceive things in this way. Indeed, to a large and increas-
ing number of Churchmen the evolution hypothesis appears, not only
profoundly interesting, but probably true. They find there nothing to
shake their faith, and a good deal to confirm it. Man is what he is, in
whatever way he may have become so. And how atheists can persuade
themselves that this beautiful theory of the divine method helps their
denial of a deity, the modern school of theologians is at a loss to under-
stand. For the cosmic force whom Christians worship has, from the
very beginning, been rei^resented to them, not as a fickle, but as a con-
tinuous and a law-abiding energy. " My Father worketh hitherto," said
Christ. " Not a sparrow falleth to the ground " without his cognizance.
"The very hairs of your head are all numbered." " In Him we live and
move and have our being." Pictorial expressions, no doubt. But what
words could more clearly indicate the unbroken continuity of causation
in nature than these texts from the Christian Scriptures ? And it is
surely the establishment of a continuous, as distinct from an intermit-
tent, agency in nature which forms the leading point of interest both
to science and to the Church, at the present day, as against a shallow
deism. If, therefore, man's imaginative and moral faculties, as we
know them now, are a development from former and lower — yes, even
from savage, from bestial, from material — antecedents, what is that to
us ? Of man's logical powers the self -same thing has to be said. Why,
1 Exodus vi. 3. ^ " Physicus," p. 31.

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 627

then, should Logic give itself such mighty airs of superiority and forget
its equally humble origin ? How does it affect the truthfulness in rela-
tion to man, and the trustworthiness, for all practical purposes, of our
image-forming faculties, that it is what it is only after long evolution,
and that the race had a foetal period as well as the individual?

The upshot, then, of the whole discussion is surely this : The Abso-
lute is confessedly inconceivable by man. All our mental faculties are
in the same category : they are all finite, relative, imperfect. But then
they are suited to our present development and environment. Faith
in them is therefore required, and a bold masculine use of them all.
For in nature, as in grace, " God hath not given us the spirit of fear,
but of power and of love and of a sound mind." ' If, then, there are
questions into which mere analytic reasoning can not enter, if Logic is
powerless, for instance, before a musical score, and is struck dumb be-
fore the self-devotion of Thermopylae, or the unapproachable self-sacri-
fice of Calvary, by what right are we forbidden to employ these other
faculties which help us, and whose constructive help brings joy and
health and peace to our minds ? The many-colored poetical aspect of
things is, assuredly, no less " pure " and far more interesting than the
washed-out and colorless zero reached by interminable analysis. The
colored sunlight is no less " pure," and it reveals a great deal more of
truth, than " the pale moon's watery beams." And so we venture to
predict that a constructive Christianity which, TToXvuepog Koi Tro?iVTp6-
TTCjg,^ reveals the cosmic force and unity to the millions of men, will ever
hold its own against a merely destructive Buddhism, whether ancient
or modern ; and, long after pure Logic has said its last word and — with
a faint cry, " Something perhaps is " — has evaporated into Nirwana,
will continue its thrice-blessed efforts to rear a palace of human thought,
will handle with reserve and dignity the best results of all the sciences,
and will integrate (with courage and not despair) the infinite contribu-
tions of all phenomena into a theology of practical utility to the further
evolution of the human race.

For evolution there has certainly been. And in spite of all that
has been said to the contrary,^ the moral atmosphere which has from
age to age rendered mental progress possible has been, for the most
part, engendered by religion, and, above all, by the confidence, peace,
and brotherhood preached by the Christian Church. No doubt i-eligion
was cradled amid gross superstitions ; and only by great and perilous
transitions has it advanced from the lower to the higher. It was a
great step from the fetich and the teraphim to the animal and plant

» 2 Timothy i. 7.

' At sundry times and in divers manners.

3 Draper, "The Conflict between Religion and Science," New York, 1873. This
otherwise admirable work is disfigured throughout by a prejudice against religion, as a
factor in human progress, which is almost childish. The learned author surely forgets
his own words, " No one can spend a large part of his life in teaching science, without
partaking of that love of impartiality and truth which philosophy incites " (p. ix.).

628 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

symbols of Egypt and Assyria. It was another great step to Baal, the
blazing sun, and Moloch, wielder of draught and sunstroke, and Agni,
friendly comrade of the hearth. But when astronomy and physics had
reached sufficient growth to master all these wonders, and to predict
the solstices and the eclipses, then the fullness of times had come once
more ; and now the greatest religious transition was accomplished that
the human race has ever seen — a transition from the physical, and the
brutal, and the astral, to the human and the moral, in man's search after
a true (or the to him truest possible) representation of the infinite forces
at play around him. In Abraham the Hebrew — i-iay, the man who made
the great transition — this important advance is typified for the Semitic
races ; for others, the results only are seen in the Olympian conceptions
of Hesiod and Homer. For here we have, at last, the nature-forces
presided over and controlled after a really human fashion. Crude, and
only semi-moral, after all, as was this earliest humanizing effort, still
human it was — not mechanical nor bestial. And it opened the way for
Socrates to bring down philosophy, too, from heaven to earth, for Plato
to discuss the mental processes in man, and apply them (writ large) to
the processes of nature, and for Moses to elaborate with a divine sagacity
a completely organized society, saturated through every fiber with this
one idea — the unity of all the nature-forces, great and small, and their
government, not by hap-hazard, or malignity, or fate, but by what
we men call law. " Thou hast given them a law which shall not be
broken." For this word " law " distinctly cdnnotes rationality. It im-
plies a quality akin to, and therefore expressible in terms of, human
reason. Its usage on every page of every book of science means that ;
and repudiates, therefore, by anticipation, the dismal invitations to sci-
entific despair with which the logicians d outrance are now so press-
ingly obliging us.

This grand transition, then, once made, all else became easy. The
human imagination, the poetic or plastic power lodged in our brain,
after many failures, had now at last got on the high-road which led
straight to the goal. Redemption had come ; it only needed to be
unfolded to ils utmost capabilities. Dull fate, dumb, sullen, and im-
practicable, had been renounced as infra-human and unworthy. Let
stocks and stones in the mountains and the forests be ruled by it;
not free, glad, and glorious men ! Brute, bestial instinct also had been
renounced, as contemptible and undivine in the highest degree. And
so, at last, the culminating point was attained. The human-divine of
Asiatic speculation, and the divinely-human of European philosophy,
met and coalesced ; and from that wedlock emerged Christianity. The
" Something is " of mere bald analytic reasoning had become clothed
by the imagination with that perfect human form and character than
which nothing known to man is higher ; and that very manhood, which
is nowadays so loudly asserted by positivists and atheists to be the
most divine thing known to science, was precisely the form in which

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 629

the new religion preached that the great exterior existence, the Some-
thing Is, the awful " I am," can alone be presented intelligibly to man.
For " No man shall see Jehovah and live," says the Old Testament :
" No man hath seen God at any time," says the New Testament ; the
Son of man, who is etf rov koXttov tov Trarpbg ' — projected on the bosom
of the absolute " I am " — he hath declared him.

Of this language in St. John's Gospel, it is obvious that Hegel's
doctrine — echoed afterward by Comte and the positivists — is a sort
of variation set in a lower key. In humanity, said he, the divine idea
emerges from the material and the bestial into the self-conscious.
Humanity presents us with the best we can ever know of the divine.
In " the Son of man " that something which lies behind, and which no
man can attain to, becomes incarnate, visible, imaginable. But it can
not surely be meant by these philosophers that in the sons of men
taken at hajy-hazard the Divinity, the great Cosmic Unknown, is best
presented to us. It can not possibly be maintained that in the Chinese
swarming on their canals, in the hideous savages of Polynesia, or in
the mobs of our great European capitals, the " Sometliing is " can be
effectively studied, idealized, adored. No, it were surely a truer state-
ment that humanity concentrated in its very purest known form, and
refined as much as may be from all its animalism, were the clear lens
(as it were) through which to contemplate the great Cosmic Power be-
yond. It is, therefore, a SON of man, and not the ordinary sons of men,
that we require to aid our minds and uplift our aspirations. Mankind
is hardly to be saved from retrograde evolution by superciliously look-
ing round upon a myriad of mediocre realities. It must be helped on,
if at all, by a new variety in our species suddenly putting forth in our
midst, attracting wide attention, securing descendants, and offering an
ideal, a goal in advance, toward which effort and conflict shall tend.
We must be won over from our worldly lusts and our animal propensi-
ties by engaging our hearts on higher objects. We must learn a lesson
in practical morals from the youth who is redeemed from rude boyhood
and coarse selfishness by love. We must allow the latent spark of
moral desire to be fanned into a flame, and, by the enkindling admira-
tion of a human beauty above the plane of character hitherto attained
by man, to consume away the animal dross and prepare for new en-
vironments that may be in store for us. What student does not know
how the heat of love for truth not yet attained breaks up a heap of pre-
judices and fixed ideas, and gives a sort of molecular instability to the
mind, preparing it for the most surprising transformations ? Who has
not observed the development of almost a new eye for color, or a new
ear for refinements in sound, by the mere constant presentation of a
higher assthetic ideal ? And just in the same way, who that knows
anything of mankind can have failed to perceive that the only success-
ful method by which character is permanently improved is by employ-

1 On the Father's bosom.

630 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing the force of example, by accumulating on the conscience reiterated
touches of a new moral color, and by bringing to bear from above the
power of an acknowledged ideal, and (if possible) from around the
simultaneous influence of a similarly aifected environment ?

Baptize now all these truths, translate them into the ordinary cur-
rent language of the Church, and you have simply neither more nor
less than the gospel of Jesus Christ. And as carbon is carbon, whether
it be presented as coal or as diamond, so are these high and man-redeem-
ing verities — about the inscrutable " I am," and his intelligible pre-
sentment in a strangely unique Son of man, and the transmuting
agency of a brotherhood saturated with his Spirit and pledged to keep
his presence ever fresh and effective — verities still, whether they take
on homely and practical or dazzling and scientific forms. And the fool-
ish man is surely he who, educated enough to know better, scorns the
lowly form, and is pedantic enough to suggest the refinements of the
lecture-room as suitable for the rough uses of everj'-day life. A man of
sense will rather say : Let us by all means retain and — with insight and
trust — employ the homely traditional forms of these sublime truths : let
us forbear, in charity for others, to weaken their influence, and so to
cut away the lower rounds of the very ladder by which we ourselves
ascended : and let us too, in mercy to our own health of character, de-
cline to stand aloof from the world of common men, or to relegate awav
among the lumber of our lives the t'Trea (pcovavra avviroiaiv * that we
learned of simple saintly lips in childhood. Rather, as the Son of
MAN hath bidden us, we will " bring out of our treasures things both
new and old " ; will remember, as Aquinas taught, that " nova nomina
antiquam fidem de Deo significant " ^ ; and will carry out in practice that
word well spoken in good season, " It is not by rejecting what is for-
mal, but by interpreting it, that we advance in true spirituality." ^

II. On the other hand, if men of science are to be won back to the
Church, and the widening gulf is to be bridged over which threatens
nowadays the destruction of all that we hold dear, it can not be too
often or too earnestly repeated, The Church must not jyart company
with the loorld she is commissioned to evangelize. She must awake
both from her renaissance and her mediseval dreams. To turn over on
her uneasy couch, and try by conscious effort to dream those dreams
again, when daylight is come and all the house is fully astir, this surely
were the height of faithless folly. An animating time of action is come,
a day requiring the best exercise of skill and knowledge and moral
courage. Shall we hear within the camp, at such a moment as this, a
treasonable whisper go round : " By one act of mental suicide we may
contrive to escape all further exertion ; science is perplexing, history
is full of doubts, psychology spins webs too fine for our self-indulgence

' Words that have a meaning for those who understand.
* The new terms signify the ancient faith concerning God.
3 " The Patience of Hope," p. 70.

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 631

even to think of? Why not make believe very hard to have found an
infallible oracle, and determine once for all to desert our post and
' jurare in verba magistri " ? " It is true that history demonstrates be-
yond a doubt that Jesus and his apostles knew nothing of any such
contrivance. But never mind ! " A Catholic who should adhere to the
testimony of history, when it appears to contradict the Church, would
be guilty not merely of treason and heresy, but of apostasy." ^ Yes, of
treason to Rome, but of faithful and courageous loyalty to Christ. "I
am the truth," said Christ. " The truth shall make you free." Speak
the truth in love, prove all things, hold fast that which is true, said his
apostles. How can it ever be consonant to his will that the members
of his brotherhood should conspire together to make believe that white
is black at the bidding of any man on earth ? The Church of England,
at anv rate, has no such treason to answer for. Her doctrinal canons,
by distinctly asserting that even " General Councils may err and have
erred " and by a constant appeal to ancient documents, universally ac-
cepted, but capable of ever-improving interpretation, have averted the
curse of a sterile traditionalism. No new light is at any time inacces-
sible to her. Every historical truth is treasured, every literary discussion
is welcome, every scientific discovery finds at last a place amid her sys-
tem. Time and patience are, of course, required to rearrange and har-
monize all things together new and old ; and a claim is rightly made
that new " truths " should first be substantiated as such, before they are
incorporated into so vast and widespread an engine of popular education
as hers. But, with this proviso, " Theology accepts every certain conclu
sion of physical science as man's unfolding of God's book of nature
It is therefore most unwise, if any of her clergy pose themselves as hos-
tile to new discoveries, whether in history, literature, or science. It may
be natural to take up such an attitude ; and a certain impatience and
resentment at the manner in which these things are often paraded, in
the crudest forms and before an unprepared public, may be easily con-
doned by all candid men. But such an attitude of suspicion and hostil-
ity between " things old " and " things new " goes far beyond the com-
mission to " banish and drive away all strange and erroneous doctrines
contrary to God's word." For this commission requires proof, and not
surmise, that they are erroneous ; and the Church has had experience,
over and over again, how easy and how disastrous it is to banish from
the door an unwelcome guest, who was perhaps nothing less than an
ano-el in disguise. The story of Galileo will never cease, while the
world lasts, to cause the enemies of the Church to blaspheme. Yet of
late years it has been honestly confessed by divines that " the oldest
and the youngest of the natural sciences, astronomy and geology, so far
from being dangerous, . . . seem providentially destined to engage

' Swear as a master bids.

- Abbe Martin, " Contemporary Review," December, 1878, p. 94.

' Dr. Pusey, " University Sermon," November, 1878.

« s

632 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the present century so powerfully that the ideal majesty of infinite
time and endless space might counteract a low and narrow material-
ism." '

This experience ought not to be thrown away. No one, who has
paid a serious attention to the progress of the modern sciences, can
entertain a doubt that all the really substantiated discoveries which
have been supposed to contravene Christianity do in reality only deepen
its profundity and emphasize its indispensable necessity for man. Never
before, in all the historj' of mankind, has the Deity seemed so awful, so
remote from man, so mighty in the tremendous forces that he wields, so
majestic in the permanence and tranquillity of his resistless will. Never
before has man realized his own excessive smallness and impotence ; his
inability to destroy — much more, to create — one atom or molecule ; his
dependence for life, for thought, for character even, on the material
environment of which he once thought himself the master. The forces
of nature, then, have become to him once more, as in the infancy of his
race, almost a terror. And poised midway, for a few eventful hours,
between an infinite past of which he knows a little and an infinite future
of which he knows nothing, he is tempted to despair of himself and of his
little planet, and in childish petulance to complain, " My whilom conceit
is broken ; there is nothing else to live for." And amid these foolish
despairs, a voice is heard which says : " Have faith in God ! have hope
in Christ ! have love to man ! Knowledge of this tremendous substratum
of all being it is not for man to have : his knowledge is confined to
phenomena and to very human (but sufficient) conceptions of the so-
called laws by which they all cohere. But these three qualities are
moral, not intellectual, virtues. For the Church never teaches that God
can be scientifically known ; she never offers certainty and sight, but
only " hope," in many an ascending degree ; she does not say that God
is a man, a person like one of us — that were indeed perversely to mis-
understand her subtile terminology — but only a Man has appeared, when
the time was ripe for him, in whom that awful and tremendous existence
has shown us something of his ideas, has made intelligible to us (as it
were by a word to the listening ear) what we may venture to call his
"mind" toward us, and has invited us — by the simple expedient of
giving our heart's loyalty to this most lovable Son of man — to reach
out peacefully to higher evolutions, and to commit that indestructible
force, our life, to him in serene well-doing to the brotherhood among
whom his Spirit works, and whose welfare he accounts his own.

Is not this Immanizing of the great Existence, for moral and prac-
tical utility, and this utterance (so to speak) of yet another creative
word in the ascending scale of continuous development, and this social-
izing of his sweet, beneficent Spirit in a brotherhood as wide as the
world, precisely the religion most adapted to accord with modern sci-
ence?

1 Kaliscb, " On Genesis," p. 43.

ATHEISM AND THE CHURCH. 633

Yet no one can listen to ordinary sermons, no one can open popular
books of piety or of doctrine, without feeling the urgent need there is
among Churchmen for a higher appreciation of the majestic infinitude
of God. It is true that, in these cases, it is the multitude and not the
highly educated few who are addressed ; and that, even among that
multitude, there are none so grossly ignorant as to compare the Trinity
to " three Lord Shaftesburys," and not many so childish as to picture
" one Almighty descending into hell to pacify another." * Such petu-
lance is reserved for men of the highest intellectual gifts, who — whether
purposely or ignorantly, it is hard to say — have stooped to provide their
generation with a comic theology of the Christian Church. But, after
all, it is impossible not to feel that the shadows of a well-loved past are
lingering too long over a present that might be bright with joyous sun-
shine ; that the subtilties of the schoolmen are too long allowed to
darken the air with 2:)ointless and antiquated weapons ; that the Renais-
sance, with its literary fanaticism, still reigns over the whole domain of
Christian book-lore ; and that the crude conceptions of the Ptolemaic
astronomy have never yet, among ecclesiastics, been thoroughly dis-
lodged or replaced by the far more magnificent revelations of the mod-
ern telescope. It is not asserted that no percolation of " things new "
is going on. It is not denied that as in the first century a change in
ideas about the priesthood carried with it a change in the whole reli-
gious S3''stem of which that formed the axis,'^ so now a change in ideas
about the earth's position in space demands a very skillful and patient
readjustment of all our connected ideas. But such a readjustment of
the old Semitic faith was effected, in the first century, by St. Paui ;
and there is no reason to think that the Church is unequal to similar
tasks now. And in this country especially there is an established and
organized " Ecclesia docens " ' which probably never had its equal in
all Church history for the literary and scientific eminence of its leading
members. For such a society to despair of readjusting its theology to
contemporary science, or idly to stand by while others effect the junc-
tion, were indeed a disgraceful and incredible treason ; so incredible
that — until it be proved otherwise — no amount of vituperation or un-
popularity should induce any reflecting Englishman to render that work
impossible by allowing his Church to be trampled down, and its time-
honored framework to be given up as a spoil to chaos.

But there is yet another element in this question which binds the
Church of Christ to give to its solution the very closest and most inde-
fatigable attention. It is this : that from every science there arises
nowadays a cry like that addressed to Jesus himself when on earth,
" Lord, help me ! " It is not as if atheism were satisfied with itself.
In the pages of the " National Reformer" and similar organs of aggres-

^ M. Arnold, "Literature," etc. (1873), p. 306. Spencer, "Sociology" (seventh edi-
tion, ISYS), p. 208.

^ Hebrews vii. 12. ^ Teaching Church.

VOL. XIV. — 41

634 "^HE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sive free thought we are amused with the buoyant audacity of the
" young idea." Yet even there we find many a passage which calls
forth the sincerest sympathy. Take, for instance, the following :

Tliere are few reflective persons who have not been, now and again, impressed
with awe as they looked back on the past of humanity. ... It is then tliat we
see the grandest illustrations of that unending necessity under which, it would
seem, man labors, the necessity of abandoning ever and again the heritage of his
fathers, ... of continually leaving behind him the citadel of faith and peace,
raised by the piety of the past, for an atmosphere of tumult and denial. . . .
Whatever may be our present conclusions about Christianity, we can not too
often remember that it has been one of the most important factors in the life of
mankind." '

This is touching enough — though perhaps the stolid aggressiveness
which knows, as yet, no relentings, is really a far more tragic spectacle.
But there are other lamentations, uttered of late years by distinguished
atheists, which might move a heart of stone, much more should stir the
energies of every Christian teacher — himself at peace — to seek by any
sacrifice of his own ease or settled preconceptions an " eirenicon," a
method of conciliation, an opening for a mutual confession of needless
estrangement and provocation.

Does that new philosophy of history which destroys the Christian philosophy
of it afford an adequate basis for such a reconstruction of the ideal as is required ?
Candidly we must rejjly, " Not yet." . . . Very far are we from being the iirst
who have experienced the agony of discovered delusion. . . . Well may despair
almost seize on one who has been, not in name only, but in very truth, a Chris-
tian, when that incarnation which had given him in Christ an ever-living brother
and friend is found to be but an old myth [of Osiris] with a new life in it.'

The most serious trial throngh which society can pass is encountered in the
exuviation of its religious restraints.^

Never in the history of man has so terrific a calamity befallen the race as
that which all who look may now behold advancing as a deluge, black with de-
struction, resistless in might, uprooting our most cherished hopes, ingulfing our
most precious creed, and burying our highest life in mindless desolation. The
flood-gates of infidelity are open, and atheism overwhelming is upon us. . . .
Man has become, in a new sense, the measure of the universe ; and in this, the
latest and most appalling of his soundings, indications are returned from the
infinite voids of space and time that his intelligence, with all its noble capacities
for love and adoration, is yet alone — destitute of kith or kin in all this universe
of being. . . . Forasmuch as I am far from being able to agree with those who
affirm that the twilight doctrine of the "new faith " is a desirable substitute for
the waning splendor of "the old," I am not ashamed to confess tljat, with this
virtual negation of God, the universe to me has lost its soul of loveliness. And
when at times I think, as think at times I must, of the appalling contrast
between the hallowed glory of that creed which once was mine and the lonely

' Bradlaugh's "National Reformer," October 6, 18T8.

= Stuart Glennie, "In the Morning Land" (1873), pp. 29, 378, 431.

2 Draper, "Religion and Science" (eleventh edition, 1878), p. 328.

THE STING OF THE HONEY-BEE. 635

mystery of existence as now I find it — at such times I shall ever feel it impos-
sible to avoid the sharpest pang of which my nature is susceptible.'

It is well that Churchmen should be aware of this state of things ;
and especially that the clergy, when they are tempted to have their
fling (secure from all reply) against the so-called " infidel," should bear
in mind how often the bravery of defiant arrogance is a mere mask to
cover a sinking heart. For pity's sake, therefore, as well as for their
own sake, the clergy should guard against two gross but common mis-
takes : 1. The mistake of abusing modern science, and depreciating its
imquestiouable difficulties in relation to the established theology ; 2.
The still more fatal blunder of trustina^ to worn-out tactics and to the
" artillery " of Jonathan and David for the reduction of these modern
earthworks. " To the Greeks became I as a Greek," said St. Paul.
And so must the minister of Christ in these days make up his mind to
bring home the gospel to his own countrymen, with all their faults and
peculiarities ; and to the Englishmen of the nineteenth century must
become an Englishman of the nineteenth century, that he " may by all
means save some."

But no success will be obtained, unless Churchmen will remember
that the vast domains recently conquered by science are (practically
speaking) assured and certain conquests. They are no encroachment,
but a rightful " revindication " of scientific territory. And, accepted
in a friendly spirit, harmonized with skill and boldness, and consecrated
(not cursed) in the Master's name, they bid fair to become a new realm
whereon his peace-bringing banner may be right royally unfolded, and
where, even in our own day, the beginning of a permanent unity may
certainly be effected. And this must be attempted by a brave and tell-
ing proclamation of the great Christian doctrines — that the awful self-
existent " I AM " is none other than " our Father in heaven " ; that
Christ, the blameless Son of man, is the best image of his person ; and
that his pure Spirit, brooding over the turbid chaos of human society,
offers the surest means and pledge of a future Cosmos, where " life "
may perhaps transcend these baffling veils of space and time, and, in
forms " undreamed of by our philosophy," display the boundless riches
of nature and of God. — Contemporary Heview.

THE STING OF THE HONEY-BEE.^

PERHAPS there is no object more common in the cabinets of mi-
croscopists than mounted specimens of bee-stings. Almost every
popular work on the microscope describes and figures them, but it is

- Pbysicus, "On Tbeism," pp. 51, 63, 114.

* Abstract from a paper, by J. D. Hyatt, in the " American Quarterly Microscopical
Journal," October, 1878.

636 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

only within a few months that the true structure of these organs has
been made known. Mr. J. D. Hyatt, of this city, has been studying
the subject for the past eight years, and his recent discoveries have
shown that the ordinary descriptions are incorrect and founded upon
mere inferences, drawn from the appearance of the organ as usually
dissected and mounted. There are no less than eight discoveries, for
which we are indebted to the labors of this gentleman, and it is our
intention to present some of these as briefly as possible.

By reference to the cuts the following descriptions will be made
clear : Fig. 1 represents the entire apparatus of the sting of the honey-
bee, with the muscles removed, showing only the hard parts and the
poison -gland (P). The lancets [K IC) are drawn out from their natural
position to show their structure more clearly. The sting is usually de-
scribed as having two barbed lancets {S^ K) which move in and out of
the "sheath" (Z>), the inner sides of the lancets being channeled, so
that when they are thrust out together they form a tube through which
the poison enters the wound. It appears, however, that the so-called
" sheath " does not inclose the lancets in any part, and therefore is not
a sheath, as formerly supposed. Moreover, while the virus may, and un-
doubtedly does, pass along the tubular space between the lancets, this
is not the course it follows to reach the bottom of the wound. A far
more elaborate arrangement, a sort of miniature hydraulic ram, forces
the fluid through the lancets themselves, and this is one of the most
recent discoveries. By examining the lancets with a rather high power,
it will be seen that each appears to be tubular, and that the tube runs
down nearly to the apex, but always disappears before reaching the
end. From this main tube, and just back of each of the last five teeth,
we notice fine branch-tubes which open on the surface between them.
All this is well shown in Fig. 2, the branch-tubes opening at the points
b b b b h. This figure represents the lower part of one of the lancets,
showing the shape of the barbs and the extremely sharp point. The
lancet is thus seen with a power of four hundred and fifty diameters ;
the point of the finest sewing-needle magnified to the same extent
would appear as blunt as the end of a crowbar. Although the tubular
appearance was evident to any one who looked for it, the next step was
to prove that the lancets were in truth hollow, for it is not safe to rely
upon mere appearances when using the microscope. Mr. Hyatt suc-
ceeded in proving their tubular nature in several ways : he succeeded
in forcing liquid through them, first by a little delicate manipulation,
and finally by cutting thin transverse sections and mounting them so as
to view them on end. One of these sections, which shows the form of
the lancet and the tubular opening passing through it, is shown at e,
Fig. 3.

Following the lancet from the apex toward the larger end we pass
the gracefully curved barbs to a smooth portion, and then reach a curi-
ous projection (Fig. l,jt>), firmly braced and attached to the lancet as

THE STING OF THE HONEY-BEE.

637

seen in the figure. When in the natural position these projections lie
within the "sheath" {!>). These are known as the stop-valves. The
tubes of the lancets terminate just back of where the stop-valves are
attached, here opening into the cylindrical portion of the " sheath."

Fig 2

We pass now from the lancets to the "sheath" (Fig. 1, D), The
general shape is well shown in the figure. The cylindrical portion (Z>)
suddenly contracts, forming a shoulder at d, and a slender portion ex-
tends for some distance beyond. Along the straight edge the lancets

638 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

run in the manner shown in Fig, 3. In this figure the darker portion
(w) represents a cross-section of the " sheath," the two lighter pieces
{b and d) are cross-sections of the lancets, one {d) in situ. Running
the entire length of the " sheath " we find the T-rail projections [g g)
along which the lancets slide, being channeled to fit, as seen at 5, Fig.
3. Thus we see that the main " sheath " is not a proper term for this
part of the apparatus, for the lancets are entirely outside of it and run
along the rails. The poison-gland (P) empties into the cylindrical part
of the sheath, and keeps it constantly full of virus, at least when the
bee is excited. A, B^ and C, are broad chitinous pieces, to which mus-
cles are attached. They form a peculiar combination of levers, too com-
plicated in their action to be described here in detail, but they serve to
thrust out tlie " sheath " and the lancets, giving to the former a power-
ful thrust, and to the latter a movement of great rapidity.

We are now prepared to understand the operation of stinging. The
two lancets [K K) when in position lie close against the "sheath," as
already described, and their ends reach just to the point of the latter.
When the insect stings, the palpi {E E), which are drawn away from
their proper place in the figure, serve to direct the organ to the most
vulnerable point of attack. Then, with a sudden, powerful motion, the
" sheath " is forced out and produces the puncture, penetrating as far
as the point d, where the expansion begins. Instantly the two lancets
are then forced out together, increasing the depth of the wound made
by the " sheath." It has generally been supposed that the lancets were
the organs that made the puncture, but this is not the fact. The lan-
cets are thrust out until the stop-valves {p2^) strike against the shoulder
d (Fig. 1). This closes the cylindrical part of the sheath, which is full
of virus, and this virus, being under pressure either from the sudden
stoppage of the free outlet by the stojD-valves or the contractions of the
poison-gland (P), or both these causes combined, makes its way into
the tubular lancets through the openings already mentioned just back
of the stop-valves, and enters the wound through the branch-tubes
bhhbh (Fig. 2). Thus we see that the injection of the poison into the
wound is fairly comparable to the working of an hydraulic ram.

When the honey-bee stings, it is well known that the sting is not
withdrawn from the wound. The sharp barbs on the lancets make it
impossible for the bee to withdraw them, but more than these may be
left behind. By allowing the insect to sting a piece of soft leather, not
only the lancets but also the sheath and poison-gland will be beautifully
dissected out, the bee apparently not suffering from their loss.

It will be seen that the lancets are curved at their attachment with
the levers which move them. This curved portion is flexible, while the
points are brittle. The poison-gland is provided with a muscular coat.
It has been previously supposed that the virus was expelled from the
gland by the pressure of other parts. There are several interesting
points connected with the mechanism of the sting, which have been

REFLEX ACTION AND DISEASE. 639

omitted here on account of the detailed description that would be re-
quired to make them intelligible.

Naturalists should not be slow to appreciate the conscientious labor
which alone has led Mr. Hyatt to these results, or to follow up the line
of investigation which he has opened.

♦«»

KEFLEX ACTION AND DISEASE.

By T. LAUDER BRUNTON, F. R. S.

AS a preliminary to the paper of this evening upon reflex action as a
cause of disease and a method of cure, I must say a word about
reflex action itself, and also about another subject with which it is very
closely connected, viz., the transference of impressions.

Reflex action is the eS"ect produced by an impression made upon a
sensory nerve, transmitted by that nerve to a nerve-center, and reflected
or thrown back along a motor nerve in much the same way as we may
imagine the force to be which is applied to one end of a string running
over a pulley and transmitted in a different direction by the other end
to produce a certain effect. If we fancy the farther end of the string
to be divided into several strands, each of which js attached to a differ-
ent object, and which may be, separately or together, afi'ected by a pull
on the nearer end of the string, we shall form a still more definite notion
of reflex action, for an impression made upon the same sensory nerve may
produce various results, according to the strength of the impression and
the efi'erent nerve-channel along which it is thrown back by the nerve-
center. An impression made upon a sensory nerve, for example, may
produce motion of either a voluntary or involuntary muscle, or may
afiect the nutrition of a tissue. Under the head of involuntary muscles
we must class the muscular fibers of the vessels, and those vascular
changes which in themselves play a great part in nutrition and secre-
tion may be very greatly influenced by impressions made upon sensory
nerves. The way in which we know that the nutrition of a tissue may
be influenced reflexly apart from the changes in the vessels is, that ob-
servations on the submaxillary gland have demonstrated that we may^
under certain conditions, obtain vascular changes without the secretion
which usually accompanies them, and that, vice versa, we may obtain
secretion without the vascular changes which ordinarily accompany it.
Thus, on stimulating the nerves of the tongue, the impression which we
make is usually transmitted by the fifth nerve to the brain, and is thence
reflected down the chorda tympani to the submaxillary gland. There
it induces dilatation of the vessels, and free secretion of saliva from the
gland. But if we administer atropia we do away with one of these
1 Read before the Abernethian Society, St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

640 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

results, while we leave the other as it was — we completely arrest the
secretion, but we allow the vessels to dilate as before. If, on the other
hand, we employ physostigma, we contract the vessels, but cause great
secretion, such secretion as is usually accompanied by dilated vessels
and the free flow of blood through the gland. It is evident, then, that
vascular changes, although usually associated with alterations in nutri-
tion, do not necessarily cause them ; and that, in the gland we have just
mentioned, changes in the tissues composing it will occur without the
caliber of the vessels or the flow of blood through them undergoing any
material alteration.

We will now say a word about the transference of impressions.
Just as we may imagine the farther side of the cord passed over the
pulley to be divided into difi'erent strands, while the nearer side is
single, and as we imag;ine difi'erent results obtained by pulling upon
the single string by reason of those subdivisions at its farther end, so
we may have the nearer end of the cord subdivided into strands, wliile
the farther end is single, and thus we can obtain a similar result by
pulling any one of the strands on the nearer end. This simile may
serve to illustrate the way in which we may obtain a similar result by
irritation of various efi'erent nerves, the stimulation being conveyed
to the nerve-center and reflected down the same efi'erent nerve in each
case. For example, a small grain of sand in the eye will cause a per-
son to wink violently and involuntarily. In this case the impression
made upon the sensory nerves of the conjunctiva is transmitted up to
the brain, and reflected down the motor nerves of the orbicularis palpe-
brarum. But some time ago, after the extraction of a tooth, and while
the wound in the gum was healing, I observed a twitching in the corre-
sponding eyelid somewhat resembling that which would have been
caused by a grain of sand in the eye. Here, also, we have the motor
nerves of the orbicularis reflexly excited, but the strand, if we may so
term it, through which the stimulus was sent up the nerve-center was
not the same, for in this case it was a dental and in the other case an
ophthalmic branch of the fifth. With these general remarks on reflex
action and transference of impressions, we will now proceed to con-
sider some cases in which reflex action is a cause of disease. I have
just mentioned one instance in which intermittent spasm of a voluntary
muscle, the orbicularis palpebrarum, was caused by irritation of a sen-
sory nerve. This leads me to remark that a very important condition to
be borne in mind is that constant stimulation of a sensory nerve will
often produce clonic or intermittent, and not tonic or continuous, con-
traction of the muscles which it may set in action. It was observed by
Nothnagel that if the sciatic nerve of a frog's leg was subjected to con-
stant stimulation under certain conditions, the contractions which it
induced reflexly in the other leg were intermittent or spasmodic, but
not continuous or tetanic. Another instance in which voluntary mus-
cles are reflexly affected is seen in the acts of coughing and vomiting.

REFLEX ACTION AND DISEASE. 641

Coughing is adapted for the purpose of expelling irritating substances
from the respiratory passages, and thus preventing their injuring the
organism, just as the act of winking is adapted to remove injurious sub-
stances from the eye. Coughing is usually excited by irritation of the
nerves of that part of the body from which the irritant is to be removed.
But coughing, like winking, may be reflexly induced by other nerves
than those which usually excite it, and thus may prove hurtful instead
of useful. Thus, in pleurisy, irritation of the pleura causes the same
expulsive efforts as a foreign substance in the bronchi, although those
efforts can expel nothing, and only cause pain to the patient ; and even
when the act of coughing is induced from the ordinary nervous chan-
nels, but where the irritant, like tubercle in the lungs, can not be
removed, the act is likewise injurious. In the same way, vomiting is
most frequently induced by the presence of irritating substances in the
stomach, and proves useful by causing their rejection and thus relieving
the stomach of their obnoxious presence. But when the irritation is
due to inflammation of the walls of the stomach itself, the expulsive
efforts of retching are quite useless, and only exhaust the patient.
Here, too, the act of vomiting can be induced by irritation of other
nerves than those of the stomach itself. Irritation of the pharyngeal
branches of the glosso-pharyngeal and of the pulmonary branches of
the vagus, irritation of the hepatic nerves by the passage of a biliary
calculus, irritation of the renal nerves by a calculus resting in the kid-
ney or passing down the urethra, irritation of the intestinal nerves (as,
for instance, by incarceration of a hernia), irritation of the uterine
nerves by the presence of a foetus in the womb, or of the ovarian and
vesical nerves by inflammation of the ovaries or bladder, may all produce
vomiting ; and in all, or nearly all, these cases, efforts at emesis will
be productive of no beneficial result. When the irritation is further
down the intestine, as when an ulcer is situated in the rectum, there
is a constant desire to go to stool, but the only results of the expul-
sive efforts involved in its gratification are exhaustion of the patient
and aggravation of the ulcerated condition. In the efforts of mictu-
rition, as in those of vomiting and defecation, we have combined
movements of voluntary and involuntary muscles. The urine is retained
in the bladder by the contraction of the sphincter surrounding its neck,
and it is expelled by contraction of the bodj' of the bladder itself with
the assistance of the abdominal muscles. Both the sphincter of the
neck of the bladder and the muscular walls of the organ itself may be
reflexly excited to contraction, and we may thus have reflex inconti-
nence or reflex retention. One of the most common causes of incon-
tinence of urine, for example, is the presence of ascarides in the rectum ;
and while the ascarides remain we may employ drugs to cure the
incontinence without success. An interesting case is described by Mr.
Teevan in the " Practitioner " for October, 1876, where a boy had been
treated in vain by medicine, but was at once cured by healing a fistula

642 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in ano from which he had been suffering, the irritation produced by it
appearing' to have been the real cause of the incontinence.

We will now pass from reflex changes in the respiratory and intes-
tinal tracts to reflex changes in the blood-vessels and heart. It is well
known that, usually, irritation of a sensory nerve causes dilatation of
the vessels in the part supplied by that nerve, and contraction of the
vessels in the other parts of the body. This may take place without
any alteration whatever in the beats of the heart itself ; but if the
irritation be very strong, or applied to certain nerves, the heart also
may be acted upon. There seem to be certain nerves which act more
readily upon the heart than others, and more especially is this power
possessed by the fifth nerve, the roots of which are very closely asso-
ciated with those of the vagus. On stimulation of the branches of the
fifth nerve passing to the nose in animals — as, for example, by holding
ammonia, strong acetic acid, or chloroform before the nose of a rabbit —
the beats of the heart may be suddenly and completely arrested. To
a similar arrest of the cardiac pulsations by irritation of the dental
branches of the fifth, I attribute the numerous deaths which have
occurred through the extraction of teeth under chloroform. It is
probable that the extraction of teeth would, under all circumstances,
be an exceedingly dangerous operation, were it not that in the waking
condition irritation of the dental nerves sets in motion two pieces of
mechanism, one of W'hich, to a great extent, counteracts the effects of
the other. As I have already mentioned in a former paper, I was once
asked how it was that the application of ammonia or acetic acid to the
nose of a fainting person was proved by experience to be beneficial,
when theoretically it ought to be injurious by arresting the already
enfeebled heart. The answer to this is, that ammonia or acetic acid,
held before the nose of a fainting person, by irritating the branches of
the fifth nerve, does not act upon the heart alone — it causes contraction
of all the vessels of the body, and thus keeps the arterial system full,
and the blood-pressure high, despite the diminished current poured into
it by the flagging heart. So much is this the case, that I have found,
in an animal in which the heart was weakened and the vessels dilated
by shock, that the application of ammonia or acetic acid to the nose
raised the pressure by one fourth of the whole. In the ordinary
waking condition, the sudden stimulus of extracting the tooth has its
effect upon the heart completely counteracted by the coincident con-
traction of the arterioles throughout the body which it also causes. In
chloroform narcosis, however, these two reflexes are not influenced
equally by the drug, and the reflex upon the heart may remain after
the reflex action upon the vessels has been abolished, so that the heart
may stop, and death will then ensue ; for, the capillaries being no
longer contracted, the blood at once drains out of the arteries into the
veins, and circulation ceases. Another very important reflex upon the
heart is that which is effected through the solar plexus and the sym-

REFLEX ACTION' AND DISEASE. 643

pathetic nerve. A stroke upon the belly will through these nerves
stop the heart, dilate the vessels, and induce the most serious con-
ditions of shock, killing the patient, or at any rate bringing him down
to death's door. The most important nerves through which the vessels
are reflexly contracted are the splanchnics, and the contraction of the
abdominal vessels which they supply has much more effect in altering
the general pressure of blood throughout the arterial system than the
contraction of any other vascular district in the body. But although
the abdominal vessels are the clrief ones concerned in alterations of
blood-pressure, yet local alterations in the various organs may have an
even more powerful action upon the nutrition of these organs them-
selves ; for it is probable that although the abdominal vessels may be
caused to contract by powerful stimulation of almost any sensory nerve,
yet that the blood-vessels in different organs of the body — such as, for
example, the kidneys or mucous membranes — are more affected by
irritation of some nerves than of others. The researches of Sanders-
Ezn have shown that stimulation of certain sensory nerves, or of limited
districts of the skin, will induce definite muscular action due to con-
traction of limited groups of muscles. It is probable that irritation of
limited districts of the skin also induces contraction of limited groups
of involuntary muscular fibers or of limited districts of vessels. It is
well known that tonsillitis is much more frequently produced by expo-
sure to a draught which strikes the back or side of the head than by a
current of air meeting one full in the face, or even by long-continued
exposure to a storm in the open air. The cause of this has not yet
been satisfactorily ascertained, but it has been attributed with some
probability to irritation of the nerves of the ear by the cold current of
air. When the throat is irritated, the irritation is not unfrequently felt
in the ear; and, vice versa, it seems probable that irritation in the ear
may cause alterations in the throat. It has been observed that pressure
upon the floor of the external auditory meatus in a person who had
suffered from otorrhoea produced violent or uncontrollable coughing ;
and, if irritation of the ear thus produces a motor reflex like that of
irritation of the larynx, it seems probable that it may also produce a
reflex trophic disturbance similar to that which would have followed
the direct application of an irritant to the larynx.

Congestion of the kidneys in horses is caused b}' exposure of the
loins to rain, the action of cold upon that district of the general sur-
face having a peculiar effect upon the kidneys, not produced by its
application to other parts of the body. It is stated by Sidney Ringer,
upon Brown-Sequard's authority, that blistering the loins will cause
contraction of the vessels of the kidney, but I have not been able to
verify this quotation. But, though there seems to be a peculiar relation
between the loins and the kidne}'-, the renal circulation would appear
to be affected by other nerves. Thus, for example, in a case narrated
by Dr. Griffith at a meeting of the Medical Society of London, albu-

644 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

minuria was produced bj the application of a dressing to an anal fistula,
which ceased when the dressing was removed, and again appeared on
its reapplication. In this case the vessels of the kidney seem to have
been reflexlj affected by the irritation applied to the anal nerves to
such an extent as to produce albuminuria, although probably no organic
disease of the kidneys themselves was present. Exposure of the
abdominal walls to rapid changes in temperature may bring on
diarrhoea, as the natives of India well know. It is possible that in
these instances the cold acts through the abdominal walls upon the
intestines themselves ; but it seems also highly probable that some part
at least of the action is reflex from the surface of the abdomen. What-
ever the cause of it may be, however, it may be guarded against by
wearing a cummerhwid, like the Hindoos ; and it is well for persons
who are subject to diarrhoea to wear, even in this country, a warm
woolen or silken belt around the abdomen.

Irritation in the intestines may induce, not merely vomiting and
diarrhoea, but even general convulsions ; and cases are on record of
epileptic fits having been produced by the presence of a tapeworm in
the intestine, which ceased upon the expulsion of the intruder. Hys-
terical fits, although their pathology is far from being understood, are
now becoming to some extent associated with ovarian irritation ; for it
is found that, in many cases of hysteria, the ovaries are tender upon
pressvire, and that the hysterical fit may frequently be instantaneously
arrested by pressing upon the ovaries.

We have so far been dealing chiefly with reflex action as a cause of
disease, but now we must say a word or two respecting the transfer-
ence of impressions. It is well known that persons who have had their
legs amputated often complain of cold feet, or of pains in their toes, on
change of weather. The irritation here is really in the end of the
divided nerve in the stump. But the brain is accustomed to refer all
impressions made upon a nerve during its course to the terminal
filaments from which impressions usually come, just as we feel a tingling
in the fingers when we pull upon or jar the ulnar nerve, or, as it is
popularly termed, the funny-bone. In disease of the hip, the irritation
is felt, not so much in the hip itself, as in the knee.

In headaches one can frequently trace the origin of the pain to
some point at a distance from the aching part. Some years ago I met
with a case which was to me very instructive. A woman complained
of a headache situated in the left temple. One of her teeth at the
same time ached somewhat, and I gave her a pledget of cotton-wool,
dipped in solid carbolic acid, to put into the cavity. To my disappoint-
ment it had little or no efi'ect ; but five minutes afterward, on the
removal of the cotton-wool to the cavity of a second tooth, likewise
decayed, but which had not at first been suspected as the cause of the
mischief, the pain disappeared entirely from the temple. Some time
afterward I was led to discover an unsuspected decayed spot in one of

REFLEX ACTION AND DISEASE. 645

my own teeth by a headache in the temporal region. I had noticed
that during these headaches there was generally tenderness over the
aching part, and that there was also a tender point at some little dis-
tance, usually the eye, which was tender to pressure. On this particular
occasion, however, there was no tenderness of the eye, and I felt all
along the side of the cheek and under the jaw to see if I could dis-
cover a second tender spot. Under the ramus of the jaw I found a
small gland painful on pressure. As glandular irritation almost always
indicates something wrong in the lymphatics which pass to the gland,
I at once suspected something in the mouth to be the cause of the ten-
derness. As there was no abrasion or tenderness of the mucous mem-
brane of the mouth or tongue, I took a pointed instrument and tested
each tooth successively. At the very back of the crown of the last
molar I detected a small point which was tender upon pressure, and on
going to a dentist I was informed that the point was just beginning to
decay. Had it not been for the headache this would have passed
unnoticed, as the tooth itself had, up to that period, given me no
inconvenience whatever. Headache over the eyes, although frequently
depending on gastric irritation, is not unfrequently caused by straining
the eyes, and is only to be removed by lessening the work which these
useful organs have to perform. One finds this headache over the eyes
in men who work much with the microscope, or in women who are
engaged in fine needlework. Yesterday I met a case of this sort in the
surgery. This was a woman who had been accustomed to work about
her house, but who began to work at dressmaking three months ago ;
her hours of work being from 9 a. m. to 9 p. m., with an interval of an
hour for dinner in the middle of the daj'. About two months ago she
began to suffer from headache above her eyes, which makes her some-
times feel quite giddy. It gets worse in the evening about seven or
eight. The headache here, it will be observed, came on about a month
after the eyes had been subjected to this unaccustomed strain ; and it
became worse in the evening after the darkness rendered artificial light
necessary, and thus increased the visual strain.

Ha^ang said so much on reflex action as a cause of disease, we will
now consider it as a method of cure ; and the first instance that sug-
gests itself to our minds is the beneficial effect of a blister. Two
theories have been proposed to account for the action of a blister.
One is, that it dilates the vessels of the skin in the part to which it is
applied, and, by thus drawing'away some of the blood from the inflamed
organ below, lessens the pain and inflammation in it. The other theory
is, that the blister acts reflexly upon the organ itself. The first of these
suppositions is very improbable, because the amount of blood in the
skin covered by a blister is exceedingly small, and, moreover, does not
come from the inflamed organ, with which the blistered piece of skin
may have little or no vascular action. The second theory is much the
more probable one, but it is not yet certain how the vessels of the

646 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

inflamed organ are affected by the blister. We do not know whether
they are dilated or contracted. It is most likely, however, that the}^
are contracted, the contraction lessening the pressure of blood upon the
inflamed tissues, and thus diminishing the pain in somewhat the same
way as we relieve the throbbing ia an inflamed finger by holding the
hand above the head, or by compressing the brachial artery. This is
rendered probable by the experiments of Zulzer, who found that when
a blister was applied to the back of a rabbit for a length of time the
skin and the muscles immediately below it were red and congested, but
the deeper layers of the muscles, the pleura, and even the lung on the
same side, were pale and anemic. There are few inflammations of the
internal organs in which blisters to the surface are not serviceable, but
much has yet to be done to ascertain the exact points at which they
ought to be applied in order to produce their maximum effect. Thus
it is said that in sciatica a blister to the heel will sometimes afford
relief, while one applied in the neighborhood of the nerve itself has
little or no effect.

The effect of poultices is probably difi'erent from that of blisters,
although ultimately productive of similar relief; for, if we again take
the simjDle instance of a finger inflamed in consequence of a thorn
having run into it, we find that we can relieve the pain in two waj^s,
either by putting the hand into cold water or by plunging the finger
into a warm poultice. Both of these measures, apparently so dis-
similar, will produce a like result in regard to the inflamed point ; that
is, both will lessen the pressure of blood in the vessels where stasis has
already taken place. The cold, applied to the whole of the hand, will
cause the arteries leading to the finger to contract, and will thus
diminish the supply of blood to the inflamed part, and lessen the pres-
sure in the blocked capillaries. The warm poultice will also lessen the
pressure, not by diminishing the flow of blood to the part, but by
dilating the vessels around tlie point of stasis, and affording the blood
a ready exit into the veins. In the case of internal organs, the blister
applied to the skin probably acts like the cold applied to the finger,
while the warm poultice placed upon the surface of the thorax or
abdomen affects the deeper lying organs in the same way as it does the
superficial ones, the warmth penetrating through the thin thoracic or
abdominal parietes. On this account, when we wish to relieve pain in
the chest or belly, we ought to make our poultices in a particular way.
The common practice of mixing the linseed-meal with hot water, and
applying it directly to the skin, is quite wrong, because if we do not
wish to burn the patient we must wait until a great portion of the heat
has been lost. The proper method is to take a flannel bag (the size of
the poultice required), to fill this with the linseed poultice as hot as it
can possibly be made, and to put between this and the skin a second
piece of flannel, so that there shall be at least two thicknesses of flannel
between the skin and the poultice itself. Above the poultice should be

IS CONSCIENCE PRIMITIVE? 647

placed more flannel, or a piece of cotton-wool, to prevent it from getting
cold. By this method we are able to apply the linseed-meal boiling
hot without burning the patient, and the heat, gradually diffusing through
the flannel, affords a grateful sense of relief which can not be obtained by
other means. There are few ways in which such marked relief is given
to abdominal pain as by the application of a poultice in this manner.

Besides blisters and poultices, there is a third class of remedies act-
ing reflexly, which is often too much neglected or despised, but is of
exceeding service ; I mean plasters. In chronic bronchitis, a plaster on
the chest affords great relief, the plaster employed being either the
simple pitch one, or the emjylastrum calefaciens of the British Pharma-
copoeia. The pain in the chest just under the mamma, which is so often
associated with anaemia and leucorrhoea, is relieved in the most remark-
able way by the application of a belladonna-plaster, and the same
application also relieves when the pain is dependent on organic disease
of the heart. The pain in the back, also, which is associated with leu-
corrhoea and uterine disturbances, is greatly eased by the application
of a pitch plaster, or by a strip of emplastrum calefaciens placed along
the lower part of the spine. In place of this, the linimentum sijiajyis,
put upon a piece of spongio-piline four or five inches broad and ten or
twelve inches long, has recently' been recommended by Dr. Gamgee.
The cause of the pain in the back is not known, but Dr. Gamgee's
theory is that it is due to exhaustion of the lumbar portion of the spinal
cord, that part from which the nerves for the urinary and genital organs
are derived. In order to repair this exhaustion, he thinks that the
supply of blood should be diminished, because functional activity is
usually associated with rapid circulation, while the opposite condition
of partial anceraia occurs during the period of rest and repair. To
obtain this partial anemia he employs counter-irritation, differing from
that of the blister in being less intense and more prolonged.

Such are a few of the more prominent instances of reflex action, as
a cause of disease and a means of cure. To enter fully into all of them
would occupy more time than the Society can afford, and to explain
them satisfactorily would require more knowledge than I either possess
or am able to obtain. — J^rain.

-♦♦«-

IS COXSCIEXCE PRIMITIYE?

By WAEKIXG WILKINSON,

MR. DUGDALE, in his recent monograph, " The Jukes," has en-
deavored to show by rather startling statistics how crime and
pauperism become hereditary. In this vicious and depraved family,
there is a conspicuous absence of moral sensibility — a lack of what we
call conscience — that strikes the social scientist as something abnor-

648 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mal. Is not this lack rather a return to normal conditions by the re-
moval of that favorable environment which holds in check the lower
instincts, and helps to develop the higher capabilities, of man's na-
ture ? Is not that juvenile monstrosity Pomeroy a sort of moral ata-
vism ? In short, did the primitive man have a conscience ?

And, lest the mere question should shock some good people, let it
be premised that the foundations of the Christian religion do not rest
upon a belief or disbelief in an innate conscience any more than the
popular fallacy of an innate and universal idea of God is a necessary
tenet of orthodox faith. These theories form no essential part of reli-
gion. They are simply some of the outposts which theologians apd
schoolmen have erected to strengthen, as they imagine, the citadel of
Biblical truth, but forming no part of the citadel itself. These need-
less defenses have been multiplied in the course of centuries till the
thing defended has sometimes been lost sight of. The Fathers have
usurped the authority of the Apostles ; ancient interpretation ranks
revelation. Milton has come to substitute Moses to that degree that
so learned a man as Professor Huxley has considered it worth his while
to apply the tests of a scientist to the visions of a poet. It must be
confessed that time and tradition have lent a sanctity to many articles
of popular creed that have little authority in Holy Writ, and the so-
called conflict between Science and Religion will have served no ill
purjDose if in its heat the rubbish of ages is burned away. In this
conflict man's fictions may suffer — God's truth, never.

In the language of theology the conscience is a separate and dis-
tinct faculty of the mind — a sort of Supreme Court to which all cases
involving the principles of right and wrong are immediately referred
for adjudication and intuitively settled. It is generally asserted that
this faculty is congenital — chief justice by birth and divine right. I
believe, on the contrary, that this mind faculty is not innate, but, if it
exists at all, it is born of the other faculties, is educated to its func-
tions, and, like the late Electoral Commission, reflects its training in
all its decisions.

A conscience to justify the popular notions of its origin and au-
thority ought to be infallible, and must be universal. If this faculty
is an innate and essential part of man's being, it should be in every
man, and exercise its functions everywhere. It is admitted that iso-
lated and sporadic cases of deficient moral sensibility do not authorize
the logical conclusion that there is no such thing as conscience, any
more than the inmates of a blind-school prove that there is no such
thing as sight ; but if there are found whole tribes of people who not
only lack all evidence of a conscience, but whose language has no
words to express moral distinctions or ideas of right and wrong ; if, in
addition, we find that where higher races give evidence in language
and life that they have certain moral perceptions, yet that the decisions
of conscience always follow local tradition and custom — it seems a fair

IS CONSCIENCE PRIMITIVE? 649

inference that the faculty itself is not an essential of man's mental
constitution, but is a product of culture ; the resultant perhaps origi-
nally of observation and experience, which in time, and under the in-
fluences of civilization, tnay become an hereditary aptitude, though
the facts of deaf-mutism, to which reference is made hereafter, militate
against the theory of transmission.

Coelum noil animum mutant qui trans mare currimt ' is perhaps
true of those who are old enough to travel, and who find national
habitudes of thought and culture followiug them everywhere, but mor-
als certainly change with almost every clime and age. In a broad
survey of the history of morals one comes to doubt whether there is
such a thing as abstract right and wrong. Every article of the religious
code in which we have been educated, and which we revere, has been
or is violated without remorse among the peoples who sit in darkness,
but who are supposed to have that intuitive faculty which makes the
pagan a law unto himself. The vice of to-day is the virtue of yester-
day : a disgrace in England is a dignity in Ashantee. The crowning
glory and triumph of Christian grace is the shame of the red-man's
creed. Crimes against life, crimes against liberty, crimes against per-
sonal rights, crimes against chastity, crimes against nature, have all
been sanctioned and justified by this infallible judge. The bitterest
wars have been religious wars, where the contending hosts were stimu-
lated and led on by conscience. The fiercest persecutions have been
religious persecutions, where conscience stretched the rack and tight-
ened the thumb-screws. The blood of martyrs stains the skirts of
every sect : Catholics have persecuted Protestants, Protestants have
persecuted Papists, and both have set their heel upon the Jew. The
atrocities of Alva were equaled by the cruelties of Louvois. The vic-
tims of St. Bartholomew find a parallel in the sufi'erings of the Scotch
Covenanters. Saul thought he was doing God service in haling men
and women to prison and to death. Blood for blood is Hebrew as well
as Indian law. The sin of stealing among the Spartans was in being
caught at it. The severe Cato thought it right to yield his wife to his
friend. Socrates sanctioned the prostitution of Aspasia by his daily
intercourse and friendship. In the Balearic Isles a bride was the com-
mon property of all the wedding-guests before she could be the wife of
one. Among the NaudoAVOssies the woman who could take to her
bosom forty stalwart warriors of a night w^as regarded almost with
veneration, and had her pick of the tribe for a husband. Galbraith
saj-s that among the Sioux theft, arson, rape, and murder, are regarded
as means of distinction. In Tahiti, while idolatry prevailed, the com-
mon animal instinct of maternal aifection seemed lacking, so much so
that Mr. Ellis, long resident there, says he never met a Tahitian mother
who had not imbrued her hands in the blood of her offspring. It is
not necessary to show that these crimes were ever considered right. It
' They change their sky, not their affection Sj who cross the sea.

VOL. XIY. — 42

650 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

suffices that they were committed without remorse, without a feeling
of wrong-doing. They are not instances of perverted conscience, but
of no conscience, and the concurrent testimony of travelers is that the
lower races have no moral sense. Mr. Dove says that the Tasmanians
"are entirely without moral views" or impressions. Governor Eyre
says the Australians have no moral sense of what is just and equitable
in the abstract, their only test of propriety being whether they are
numerically or physically strong enough to brave the vengeance of
those whom they may have provoked or injured. " Conscience," says
Burton, " does not exist in eastern Africa, and ' repentance ' means re-
gret for missed opportunities of mortal crime." Mr. Campbell observes
that the Soors, an aboriginal tribe of India, are without moral sense.
Language is a pretty good measure of mental development, yet the
dialects of inferior tribes are generally deficient in terms expressive of
moral quality. Remorse is absolutely unknown, and Lubbock says the
only instance of a man belonging to one of the lower races trying to
account for an act is the case of a young Feejeean, who, when asked
why he had killed his mother (in law?), answered, "Because it was
right."

It is very difficult to get at the original man, for the reason that
wherever found he is the heir of all the ages, and the training of circum-
stance and condition begins away beyond the reach of mind and mem-
ory. No man can remember the time when he could not talk or walk.
He can not remember when sad experience first taught him that the
candle-flame was not just the thing to cut his teeth upon. No more
does his memory go back to the time when his first lessons in ethics
were enforced by the gentle spat of the mother's hand or the warning
" No ! no ! " of her reproving voice. Humanity forbids repeating the
cruel experiment of Psammeticus, who secluded a child from all inter-
course with his kind in order to get at the original speech of man. But
nature has done what civilization would have no right to do, and offers
in the phenomena of deaf-mutism a psychological study of curious in-
terest. Considered from an intellectual and moral standpoint, the deaf-
mute is an anachronism — a prehistoric man standing bewildered in the
blaze of the nineteenth century. By simple severance of a nerve con-
nection an invisible barrier is thrown around the child, and in this se-
clusion the mind develops to a certain extent free from the influences
of accumulated culture, and is in respect to ethical notions absolutely
primitive. The animal instincts are strong, and their gratification
sought after the manner of an animal. He appreciates kindness and
resents injury. He will steal and hide the thing stolen, but I have
seen a dog do the same. He acquires certain ideas concerning the
rights of possession, and will commit murder in defense of such right
without remorse. In a recorded case near Rodez, France, officers were
sent to seize property for debt. They were driving off the peasant's
cow, when the farmer's son, an uneducated deaf-mute, seized a club

IS CONSCIENCE PRIMITIVE? 651

and brained the officer, and when brought into court could hardly be
restrained from inflicting the same punishment upon the constable's
assistants whom he recognized there. He was acquitted, on the ground
that, being entirely ignorant of the legal rights of the case, he had only
obeyed one of the first laws of nature in defending his father and his
property.

The uneducated deaf-mute never rises to the conception of a God or
Great First Cause. If he reasons at all on the subject, he concludes
things have always been as they are, or as one expressed it, "it was
natural to be so." He has no idea of a life beyond the grave, nor of
future rewards and punishments. The more intelligent will work out
philosophies not of creation but of physical phenomena, sometimes
strangely like the mythologies of the ancients, and the similarity of
these myths indicates how naturally the primitive mind materializes
and seeks explanation of phenomena by the generaUzations of personal
experience. The association of causes is sometimes ludicrous.

An English deaf-mute boy observing that he could raise quite a
stronor wind with his mother's bellows, naturallv concluded that the
wind which sometimes took his hat off in the street came from the
mouth of a gigantic bellows. He never stopped to inquire who blew
the bellows. A little girl imagined that the plants which spring up
from year to year in the fields and woods were like those in her
mother's garden, planted and watered by "some woman" — an infantile
conception, in which, however, may be traced a kindred germ to the old
Greek notions respecting nymphs and dryads. One lad, struck by the
similarity between flour falling from a mill and snow falling from the
clouds, concluded that snow was ground out of a mill in the sky. A
more poetical notion was that of a little fellow who thought the soft,
feathery snow-flakes in the winter were the falling blossoms of unknown
orchards in the sky, of which hailstones in summer were the icy fruit.
Some suppose thunder and lightning to be the discharge of firearms in
the sky, a notion the converse of that of the Aztecs, who believed the
Spaniards were gods armed with thunder and lightning.

Thus it is that human nature repeats itself, and that deaf-mute
children left, by their inability to profit by the experience of their
elders, in a prolonged infancy exemplify, in their efi'orts to account for
the phenomena of nature, many of the fancies that prevailed in the in-
fancy of society.

But if this primitive mind fails to grasp the idea of a Great First
Cause, it is equally clear that ethical distinctions are also lacking ; and
this belief is supported by good authority among those who have intimate
acquaintance with this peculiar class. Abb6 Sicard says of the deaf-
mute : " As to morals, he does not suspect their existence. The moral
world has no being for him, and virtues and vices are without reality."
" The deaf and dumb," says Herr Eschke, of Berlin, an eminent teach-
er, " live only for themselves. They acknowledge no social bond, they

652 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

have no notion of virtue. Whatever they may do, we can impute their
conduct to them neither for good nor for evil." Herr Caesar, of Leipsic,
corroborates this testimony. " The deaf and dumb," says he, " com-
prehend neither law nor duty, neither justice nor injustice, neither good
nor evil ; virtue and vice are to them as if they were not."

The proof of this moral deficiency by deaf-mute testimony is not so
easily obtained, for the reason that the deaf-mute early learns by
parental discipline to attach certain consequences to certain acts, and,
when he becomes^educated enough to be questioned concerning moral
perceptions, he has forgotten the time when he did not have what he
calls conscience, but which is no more like the theological definition of
conscience than is the feeling that makes a dog slink away when de-
tected in wrong-doing. I am not jDrepared to say that animals have no
conscience ; indeed, I am quite sure they have the same kind of inward
monitor that an uneducated deaf-mute has : child and pup are alike
restrained by severe tones and a switch, only the pup learns the most
readily. You can teach a hungry dog to watch a piece of meat quicker
than a child can be brought to resist the temptation of stealing cherries.
Both respond to the gentle culture of caress and kindness, though the
dog is the more boisterous in his acknowledgments. Indeed, every parent
who has watched the development of an infant must have noticed how
like the means used in training animals is the method of child-educa-
tion. There are the same warning tones, the thwarting of desires, the
resort to punishment, and the smiling face, the nod of assent, the
rewards of well-doing, and the petting of approbation. With the child
there is much iteration of reference to right and wrong ; but it is the
rewards and punishments which he understands, and not the wordy
appeal to the higher motives.

That this is true of the imeducated deaf-mute naturally follows from
his peculiar symbols of thought. He thinks in images, and the signs
he makes grow out of and represent these images. His ideas are con-
crete, in the sense that he seldom arrives at general conclusions, his
judgment being exercised on particular cases that have fallen under his
observation, and which he recognizes when they occur again. Morality
is an abstraction that goes beyond the reach of his instruments of
thought, and it is only as he comes within the larger capacities of the
sign-language as developed and used in institution-life that he can be
brought to the level of spiritual conceptions, and to do this we have
continually to make stepping-stones as it were out of his own crude
and imperfect mental imagery. In this respect the deaf-mute does not
differ from the many lower races whose language is so wanting in
expressions for spiritual truths that missionaries are obliged to use the
most material words from the meager vocabularies of the savages to
express their novel messages of mercy and peace.

That what we call the dictate of conscience is only another name
for an act of judgment and reason, seems evident from the difficulty one

FIRES AND THEIR CAUSES. 653

has in deciding as to what is right and what is wrong. A lawyer may
have pronounced upon certain common points of law so frequently that
when a case is presented he does not stop to think, but gives answer
immediately, yet one would not say that he acts intuitively. So in
what might be called the grosser matters of morals the judgment is able
to act quickly from frequent exercise, but, when it comes to the nicer
distinctions of ethics, so far from acting intuitively or quickly, the mind
is often in long and painful doubt. To tell the truth seems to be a
plain duty, yet who would dare to condemn Sister Surplice's lie in
defense of poor Jean Valjean ? " Thou shalt not steal " is human and
divine law, but shall a man starve rather than take a loaf of bread that
does not belong to him ? When does manslaughter in self-defense
become justifiable ? The relative duties to God, to self, and society, to
family and friendship, require much weighing of motive, and evidence,
and interests, which, so far from being settled intuitively, call for the
most careful exercise of judgment.

The limits of time and space forbid a further discussion of this sub-
ject beyond the following summary of conclusions :

1. That examination of minds nearest to primitive conditions
shows that there is an utter absence of moral feeling, and that there-
fore conscience is not a congenital faculty.

2. That the idea of duty is an abstraction, which comes with con-
siderable development of mind and a power of generalization of which
the lower races are not capable.

3. That what is called " conscience " is simply an act of judgment
and reason.

4. That the decisions of conscience depend upon the education of
die individual ; and —

5. That therefore conscience, even among intellectually developed
races, is not an infallible guide, but must itself be guided by a written
law.

-♦♦♦-

FIRES AND THEIR CAUSES.

THE oft-repeated words, " Cause unknown," appended to the daily
reports of the conflagrations which occur all over the country,
furnish matter for grave reflection. A glance at the report of one of
the largest fire brigades will show us that the causes (when ascertained)
are of the most varied description. It appears that the candle is the
most destructive weapon to be found in an ordinary household, for con-
flagrations lighted by its help far outnumber those credited to any
other cause. Curtains come next on the black list. The next large
figures are given to " Spark from fire," followed by " Foul flues."
Next in order may be noticed " Gas," " Children playing with fire,"

654 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"Tobacco-smoking," "Spontaneous ignition," and lastly "Incendiar-

ism."

There is no doubt that many a fire owes its origin to causes quite
beyond the control of the tenant of the house in which it occurs, and
that the scamping manner in which builders' work is often done is the
prime cause of many a fire which is put down as unaccounted for. The
ends of joists are left protruding into chimnej^s, or a thin hearthstone
is set upon a bed of timber. In both cases the wood becomes so dry
and hot that it is ready to take fire from the first spark that settles near
it. Overheated flues represent a source of danger which is also attrib-
utable to the careless builder ; for, if the flue were so placed that its hear
could not affect adjacent woodwork, it would be always as safe when
hot as when cold. It is true that by act of Parliament builders are
obliged to preserve a certain distance between flues and timber ; but
surveyors can not always reckon on their instructions being carried
out, and cases are unfortunately rare nowadays where workmen will do
their duty in such matters without constant supervision. Lath-and-
plaster divisions between houses are also illegal ; but buildings, and
more especially warehouses, are now of such vast extent that they really
represent aggregations of small houses in which the act of Parliament
concerning party-walls becomes a dead-letter.

Among the ascertained causes of fire are those which occur in the va-
rious workshops where hazardous trades are carried on. These naturally
show an increase since steam-power has become such a universal aid to
nearly every kind of human labor ; necessitating furnaces which remain
kindled for weeks or months together. Apart from this source of risk,
there are numerous trades where such inflammables as turpentine, naph-
tha, spirits of wine, and combinations of them in the form of varnisheiS,
are in daily use to a very large extent. The familiarity which such con-
stant use provokes breeds a contempt which often resolves itself into a
negligence almost criminal in its nature. Drying-stoves afford another
dangerous item in the list of fires connected with the trades ; japanners,
cabinet-makers, and hosts of others using such stoves as a necessity of
their business. Hot -water pipes for heating purposes also represent the
cause of a large number of fires, the most dangerous kind being those
which are charged with water and hermetically sealed. The reason of
this is easily explained. Water boils at a temperature far below that
necessary to ignite woodwork ; but, when confined in such pipes as we
have described, it will rise in temperature to an extent only measured
by the strength of the material which holds it. A soft metal plug is
sometimes inserted in these pipes, so that, should any unusual degree
of heat be approached, it will melt out, and thus relieve the pressure ;
but such a good precaution is by no means universal.

The pipes which are used for carrying off heated air, and which are
placed above gas-burners, are too often allowed to pass between the ceil-
ing and the floor above without any regard to the obvious danger in-

FIRES AND THEIR CAUSES. 655

curred. The various close stoves which were introduced to public no-
tice at the time when the price of coal was suddenly doubled, although
no doubt economical, are not so safe as the old form of kitchen range,
which many a careful housewife has likened to a cavern. The whole of
the air which rises through the flue of a closed stove actually passes
through the fire, and thus attains a very exalted temperature. In the
old stoves, on the other hand, the hot air is always largely diluted with
that which is attracted to the chimney from all quarters. It is evident,
therefore, that the chances of fire in the flue of the former are much
greater than in that of the latter.

Theatres may be said to combine within their walls all the risks
which we have as yet alluded to, for they represent factories where
work of a most diversified kind is carried on, and where both open and
closed fires are in constant use. At pantomime time especially, the
number of persons employed in the various workshops of large theatre
is to the uninitiated quite marvelous. Carpenters and "property-men"
(those clever workmen who can make everything from a bunch of car-
rots to a parish pump) represent a constant source of danger from fire,
in that they deal with inflammable material, and require the aid of heat
for their size and glue. It is obviously important in a little kingdom
where all is make-believe — where the most solid masonry is wood and
canvas, where the greenest trees are dry as tinder, where even limpid
streams are flimsy muslin, nay, where the moon itself is but a piece of
oiled calico — that there should be no mistake about the reality of the
precautions against accidental fire. In most theatres, rules are in force
of the most stringent character, extending even to such details as clear-
ing so many times a day the accumulated shavings from the carpenter's
^hops. If such a sensible law were enforced in other places besides
theatres, it would be a preventive measure of very great value.

Shavings are perhaps the most dangerously inflammable things to
be found about a building. A block of wood is a difficult thing to set
on fire ; but, when reduced to the form of shavings, a mere spark will turn
it into a roaring fire. The same thing may be said in a minor degree of
a lump of iron, which when reduced to filings can be burned in the flame
of a common candle. It is often this difi'erence of bulk which will
decide whether a material is practically inflammable or not. Paper af-
fords another example of the same principle : tied tightly in bundles
it may smolder, while in loose sheets its inflammability is evident.

It is stated upon good authority that in one third of the number of
fires which occur the cause is not ascertained. The plan long ago
adopted in New York, and which has led to a sensible diminution in the
number of fires there, has not, for some reason, found favor with the
authorities in this country. We allude to the custom of convening a
coroner's court to inquire into the origin of every fire which takes
place. There is little doubt that such inquiries would educate thought-
ful householders into taking precautions which might not otherwise

656 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

strike them as being at all necessary. The importance of such precau-
tions is manifest when we learn that in London alone there are on the
average three fires in every twenty-four hours. If this wholesale de-
struction were reported of an Eastern city, where the houses are of
wood, and are sun-dried by incessant tropical heat, there would be some
excuse for it. But here at home, where bricks and mortar are so com-
mon, it is certainly astonishing that fires should be so prevalent.

It would seem that it is a much easier task to set an entire house on
fire than it is with deliberate intention, and with proper combustibles
to light a stove for the purpose of boiling a kettle. This latter opera-
tion is not so simple as it appears to be, as any one may prove who has
not already tried his or her hand at it. In fact, an efficient or bad
house-servant may be almost at once detected by the ease or difficulty
with which she lights her fires. The inefficient servant will place some
crumpled paper in the grate, and will throw the best part of a bundle
of wood on the top of it, crowning the whole with a smothering mass
of coal ; and will expect the fire to burn. The good servant will, on
the other hand, first clear her grate, so as to insure a good draught; she
will then place the wood above the paper, crossing the sticks again, and
again ; then the coals are put in deftly one by one, affording interstices
through w^hich the flames will love to linger ; a light is applied ; and
the kettle will soon be singing acknowledgments of the warm ardor with
which it has been wooed. Contrast this with the other picture, where
double the fuel is wasted, and where smoke and dirt make their appear-
ance in lieu of tea and toast. We venture to say that a badly managed
kitchen fire, with its train of unpunctual meals, leads to more general
loss of temper than all the othgr minor domestic troubles put together.
The stove is usually the scapegoat on which the offending servant lays
her incompetence (the cat clearly could establish an alihi) ; but the
most perfect of ranges would not remedy the fault. The only real
reason for such a state of things is the prevalence of sheer stupidity.
Molly's mother was taught by Molly's grandmother to light a fire in
a certain way, and Molly's descendants will, from persistence of habit,
continue to Light fires in that manner, be it good or evil, until the end
of time. It is quite clear that the same stupidity which causes an in-
tentional fire to fail will occasionally lead to a pyrotechnic exhibition
which has been quite unlooked for. For instance, cases are not un-
known where servants have used the contents of a powder-horn for
coaxing an obstinate fire to bum ; the loss of a finger or two generally
giving them sufficient hint not to repeat the experiment.

The general use of gas has done much to reduce the number of con-
flagrations, for it has replaced other illuminators far more dangerous ; but
it has at the same time contributed a cause of accident which before its
use could not exist. So long as people will insist on looking for an es-
cape of gas with a lighted candle, so long will their rashness be reward-
ed with an explosion. It is not customary, where there is a doubt as to

FIRES AND THEIR CAUSES. 657

whether a cask contains gunpowder or not, to insert a red-hot poker into
the bung-hole. Yet such a proceeding would be scarcely less foolhardy
than the detection of the presence of gas by means of flame. The test
in both cases is most thorough, but it is too energetic in its action to be
of any value but to those who wish to rise in the world too suddenly.

Drunkenness is a well-known source of burned-out dwellings, the
habitual tippler being too often left to his own devices in the matter of
matches and candles. The usual faculty of double vision with which
an inebriated man is gifted leads to a divided claim upon the extin-
guisher, which naturally points to a disastrous sequel. Even sober peo-
ple will be guilty of the most hazardous habits, such as novel-reading
in bed with a candle placed near them on a chair ; for novels, like some
other graver compositions, are occasionally apt to induce slumber ; and
the first movement of the careless sleeper may imperil his life, as well
as the lives of others who may be under the same roof with him.

The caprices of female dress have also often led to fatal accidents
from fire, and crinoline skirts had in their day much to answer for. But
at the present time petticoats seem to have shrunk in volume to the
more moderate dimensions of an ordinary sack, so that we are not like-
ly to hear of accidents from this particular cause until some fresh enor-
mity is perpetrated in the name of fashion. We may mention in this
connection that tungstate of soda (a cheap salt) will render muslins,
etc., uninflammable. But strange to say it is not generally adopted,
even on the stage, where the risks are so multiplied, because it is said
to prevent the starch drying with due stiffness ! We have all heard
of what female courage is capable when little ones are in danger, but
we hardly thought that it was equal to the task of risking precious life
for the appearance of a muslin dress. We can only bow, and say — ^no-
thing.

Where fires have been traced to spontaneous combustion, it has
generally been found that some kind of decomposing vegetable matter
has been the active instrument in their production. Cotton-waste
which has been used for cleaning oily machinery and then thrown aside
in some forgotten corner, sawdust on which vegetable oil has been spilt,
and hemp, have each in its turn been convicted of incendiarism. The
simple remedy is, to avoid the accumulation of lumber and rubbish in
places where valuable goods and still more valuable lives are at stake.
Occasionallj' fires have been accidentally caused by the concentration of
the sun's rays by means of a lens or of a globe of water, and opticians
have for this reason to be very careful in the arrangement of their shop-
windows. A case lately occurred where a fire was occasioned, it was
supposed, by a carafe of water that stood on the center of a table.
The sun's rays had turned it into a burnnig-glass ! It is stated, with
what amount of truth we can not say, that fires in tropical forests are
sometimes caused by the heavy dewdrops attached to the foliage acting
the part of lenses.

658 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The advance which has been made during the last twenty years in
all appliances connected with the art of extinguishing fires has done
much to limit or rather localize the dangers of such catastrophes ; for,
whereas in the old days the lumbering " parish squirt " was the only
means of defense, we have now in all large towns steam fire-engines
capable of throwing an immense stream of water with force enough to
reach the topmost floors of very high buildings. The aforesaid " squirt ''
was capable of little more than wetting the outside of contiguous
buildings, with a view to prevent the spread of the original fire, which
generally burned itself out. But now our engines furnish a power
which will often smother a large fire in the course of half an hour or
less. Moreover, our well-organized fire brigades are trained to convev
the hose to the nucleus of the flames, and much heroism is shown in the
carrying out of this dangerous duty.

And now for a few simple precautions.

Let some member of the family visit every portion of the house be-
fore it is shut up for the night. (While he is seeing to the safety of the
fires and lights, he can also give an eye to belts and bars, and thus ful-
fill another most necessary precaution.) See that there is no glimmer-
ing of light beneath the bedroom doors for any unreasonable time after
the inmates have retired to rest. Insist on ascertaining the cause of
any smell of burning. It may be only a piece of rag safely smoldering
in a grate, but satisfy yourself upon the point without delay. Do not
rake out a fire at night, but allow it to burn itself out in the grate. (We
have already referred to the danger of hearthstones set upon timber.)
Do not allow an unused fireplace to be closed up with a screen unless it
is first ascertained that there is no collection of soot in the chimney, and
no communication with any other flue from which a spark may come.
Caution servants not to throw hot ashes into the dust-bin. Let the
slightest escape of gas be remedied as soon as possible, and remember
that the common form of telescope gasalier requires water at certain in-
tervals, or it will become a source of danger. Finally, forbid all kinds
of petroleum and benzoline lamps to be trimmed except by daylight,
(A lamp was the initial cause of the great Chicago fire.)

Many other precautions will suggest themselves to the careful house-
keeper. But, after all, the best precaution is common sense, which,
however, is the least available, being the misnomer for a faculty which
is far from common. — Chambers's Journal.

THE SUN'S LONG STREAMERS. 659

THE SUN'S LONG STEEAMEKS.

PROFESSOR CLEVELAND ABBE, an American astronomer and
meteorologist, who had intended to observe the eclipse of the
sun last July from the summit of Pike's Peak, in Colorado, more than
14,000 feet above the sea-level, fell ill after he had reached that place,
and was carried down to the Lake House (elevation 10,000 feet), there
to remain while the rest of his party staid to view the eclipse from
the summit. Probably if he had remained with them his observations
would have differed in no very marked degree from those which other
astronomers made on that occasion. He would have devoted a few
seconds, perhaps, to the study of the sun's corona with the naked eye.
He would probably have made some telescopic, spectroscopic, or polari-
scopic observations during the rest of the three minutes during which
the total eclipse lasted, and possibly he might have noted some feature
rather more effectively and satisfactorily than most of the other ob-
servers. But under the actual circumstances he could not hope thus
to take his place among the thousands of observers who have noted
the phenomena of total solar eclipses. He had no optical or other in-
strument. Worse than all, he is near-sighted ; and, though he had a
pair of spectacles, it was not quite strong enough to correct his near-
sightedness.

Yet Professor Abbe succeeded in making observations far exceeding
in interest any which were made by the entire force of eclipse observers
in 1874 and 1875, and fairly comparable in this respect with the most
remarkable discoveries effected during the great eclipses of 1868, 1869,
1870, and 1871. Debarred from instrumental researches, unable to do
what most observers of eclipses seem anxious to do — namel}^, to see
everything that can be seen — he was compelled to restrict himself to
precisely that line of observation which we indicated eight years ago
as likely to be most instructive. He gave his whole attention to the
corona, and especially to its. outlying and feebler portions. Studying
the phenomena with the naked eye, or at least Avith only spectacles to
aid him, he could recognize faint luminosity which the telescope would
inevitably have concealed from his view. He was not hurried ; nor was
he disturbed by the thought that such and such instruments must be
attended to in turn while still totality lasted, with care also that in the
darkness nothing should be disturbed or injured. As he said after the
observations were completed, and as we pointed out in 1870, " a glance
of a few seconds will no more suffice to do justice to the delicate phe-
nomena " (of the corona) " than it would suffice to enable a naturalist
to draw the distinguishing features of a new shell or insect, or would
enable an artist to correctly sketch in a landscape."

Before describing what Professor Abbe actually saw, it may be well
to indicate first the nature of the observations he proposed to make, and

66o TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

secondly his preconceived ideas as to what he was likely to see, for
otherwise the value of his observations will not be fully aiDpreciated.

Our readers may perhaps remember that in the year 1870 a discus-
sion took place on the question whether the glory of light seen around
the sun during total eclipse belongs to the sun or not. There were
those who maintained very confidently the opinion that this glory is
either a purely optical phenomenon only or else is due to the passage
of the solar rays through our own atmosphere all round the place of the
eclipsed sun. On the other hand, there were some (ourselves among
the number) who pointed out that the corona must necessarily belong
to the sun, since its features could not possibly be reconciled with any
other theor}". The greater number of astronomers seemed, however, to
form no opinion one way or the other, but to prefer to leave the matter
to be decided by fresh evidence. For too many imagine that the best
way of showing how greatly they value observations is by declining to
investigate the full significance of observations already made.

It will be remembered that before long the new observations de-
vised to settle a question which had been abundantly answered by ob-
servations already made proved unmistakably the solar nature of the
corona. Photographs were taken during the total eclipse of December,
1870, and in greater number during that of December, 1871. On the
latter occasion photographic views of the corona taken at stations far
apart agreed closely together, showing that the corona could not pos-
sibly be an atmospheric phenomenon. No one could imagine that the
air above Baicull, where Mr. Davis (Lord Lindsay's photographer) took
his views, could by some amazing accident produce coronal features re-
sembling those jDroduced by the air above Ootacamund, one station
being close to the seashore, the other hundreds of miles inland and
some 10,000 feet above the sea-level. On the other hand, the resem-
blance of the several views taken at either station showed that the
coronal glory could not be due to the illumination of some matter on
the hither side of the moon, but far outside our own atmosphere. For
the solar rays, passing athwart the lunar disk to fall upon such matter,
Vv-ould shift rapidly in position as the moon moved onward, so that the
features seen at the beginning of total eclipse would diifer markedly
from those seen toward the end. Since the six pictures taken at Baicull
closely resembled each other, as did the six taken at Ootacamund, so
that all twelve views represented the same corona (though of course
not all to the same distance from the sun), it was manifest that the
corona then seen was a solar appendage. The actual distance to which
the corona can be traced in these pictures corresponds to about 900,-
000 miles.

But the believers in an atmospheric corona were not even yet wholly
satisfied. Nay, before the recent total eclipse one among them even
went so far as to say that the observations and photographs of 1870
and 1871, while demonstrating the solar nature of the glory immedi-

THE SUN'S LONG STREAMERS. 661

ately surrounding the sun, proved the long rays extending much far-
ther from the sun to be non-solar phenomena. " The non-solar origin
of the radial structure," said Mr. Lockyer as late as July 20th last, " was
conclusively established " during the eclipse of December, 1871.

To say the truth, there is no possible way of interpreting the long-
rays as phenomena of our own atmosphere or of matter (gaseous,
meteoric, or dust-like) on the hither side of the moon. The idea is one
which mathematicians may casually have thrown out. Indeed, Madler
and Airy, after the eclipse of 18G0, advanced the hypothesis that the
long rays belong to matter between us and the moon, while Sir John
Herschel adopted in his " Familiar Lectures " the notion that these rays
belong to matter at a great height in our own atmosjDhere. But it
would be to misrepresent these eminent astronomers to assert that they
ever maintained these views. The available evidence, analyzed as any
one of these mathematicians could have analyzed it, had he seen fit,
would have shown convincingly that the rays must come from matter
Ijing far beyond the moon. Sir John Herschel admitted this in a letter
addressed to the present writer. Whether Airy or Madler ever ex-
amined the evidence closely we do not know. If they did they doubt-
less were led to the same result as Sir J. Herschel. The matter may
be put in this way : Since these long rays extend from the black disk
of the moon during mid totality, they occupy then a part of the sky
where no sun-illuminated air lies at such a time ; therefore they cannot
belong to our air ; but if there were some very tenuous matter, aerial
or dust-like, extending as far as the moon's orbit, the whole region of
the sky athwart which these rays extend would contain matter of this
sort under full solar illumination ; no rays then would be seen, but a
nearly uniform glare, which should become brighter and brighter as the
distance from the sun's place increased. If we add to this that at mid-
night the whole of the sky, except a round spot some four or five times
the diameter of the moon, would be occupied by this cis-lunar matter
under direct solar illumination, instead of that illumination from behind
which such matter would receive during total eclipse, we see that the
darkness of our midnight sky speaks as decisively against this theory
as does the brightness of the long rays seen during total eclipse.

Notwithstanding the overwhelming evidence available to show that
these rays lie far beyond the moon, Professor Abbe had adopted the
opinion that the rays belong to the earth's atmosphere, or else are mere
optical illusions. " I had hitherto firmly believed them," he says, " to
be either in the earth's atmosphere or in the observer's eyes. . . . Such
rays," he adds, " were seen by members of my eclipse party at Sioux
Falls City, Dakota, August, 1869 ; but at that time and ever since I
have doubted their existence." It is manifest that he did not begin his
observations with the preconceived idea that the rays belong to matter
far more distant than the moon, but with a strong opinion, if not a
strong prejudice, the other way.

662 THJE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Next let us consider the actual circumstances under which he ob-
served the eclipse, for they also are important in enabling us to esti-
mate the value of his result. " Having been somewhat hastily carried,"
he says, " from the summit of Pike's Peak down to the Lake House
(elevation 10,000 feet), I had by Monday noon recovered sufficiently
to be laid on the ground upon a gentle slope facing westward, where I
studied the rays visible about the sun during totality. I had no optical
or other instrument, and unfortunately had only a pair of spectacles
not quite sufficient even to correct my near-sightedness. By straining
my eyes somewhat I was, however, able to do something. My whole
attention was given to the rays that extended beyond the brilliant ring
which I presume represents the true solar atmosphere. I was undis-
turbed by any other consideration except to get a true presentation of
these rays. ... I went over the region around the sun again and again
— at least six times — leisurely during the 161 seconds of totality, and
cannot doubt the truthfulness and fairness of my drawing and descrip-
tion. . . . Two stakes were driven down on either side of me ; and
between them was placed a rotable axis, on which my drawing-board
and paper were fastened. . . . By slightly tipping my drawing-board I
kept the sun just above it, or just hidden from view, as I wished, while
I drew in such details as I wished, and that too, as it seemed to me at
the time, with great ease and accuracy, especially as to the angular
position of the rays."

The moon or sun appeared surrounded by a narrow brilliant white
ring, less than 140,000 miles broad. (We alter the technical indication
of apparent breadth into the actual breadth in miles, as likely to be
more intelligible to most of our readers.) This ring was as brilliant as
the full moon. It was of uniform tint and light, continuous and with-
out any break or structure visible to Professor Abbe, " Outside of this
there was no other concentric coronal appearance, and no external
boundary ; but the immaculate blue-black sky immediately adjoined

this light, which I now call the true
solar corona or atmosphere." There
was throughout plenty of light to read
and write by, though very different
from that given by the full moon.

The picture which accompanies Pro-
fessor Abbe's description in the " Colo-
rado Springs Daily Gazette " is doubt-
less not intended to present with any
accuracy the actual tints or degrees of
^r^t^if c^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^.^ "^^ brightness of the various features ob-

ECLIPSED SUN BY PeOFESSOR AbBE. °

served. The shape of the streamers is
shown with sufficient exactness in the accompanying figure. It will be
understood, of course, that the rays numbered were seen on a dark
background, the "immaculate blue" of Abbe's description.

THE SUN'S LONG STREAMERS. 663

The tapering ray marked No. 1 was the first seen by him. He says
he saw it on his first glance at the corona. It then seemed to extend
about three times the diameter of the sun ; but in a minute or so, as
the observer's eyes became accustomed to the sight, he was able to
trace its tapering end to a distance of six diameters of the sun's disk.
" Its sides were straight lines, its axis passing slightly below the sun's
center. Its light was an exceedingly faint and delicate white, appar-
ently overlaid or intermingled with the blue of the atmosphere. I saw
no striation, texture, or variation of light. There was no decided in-
crease of brightness in that part of the ray near the sun's edge, nor in
the axis of the beam, the delicate light continuing uniform up to the
corona, in whose glare it was lost." We must note here two points.
In all probability the words " in a minute or so " are used in their col-
loquial sense ior presently^ because the whole totality did not last two
minutes and a half, and in the course of that time Professor Abbe noted
all the features of the corona six several times. Secondly, we find that,
both in the " Daily News " and in " Nature," Professor Abbe is de-
scribed as tracing the rays to a distance of six degrees from the eclipsed
sun, not six diameters only ; so that, as the sun's apparent diameter is
little more than half a degree, these accounts would suggest that he
saw the rays to double the distance described in the " Colorado Daily
Gazette." But there seems little reason to doubt that the accounts
given in the " Daily News" and "Nature," which constitute in reality
but one account, seeing that they both came from the same source, are
incorrect; for the account sent to the Colorado paper was written by
Professor Abbe himself. It contains an illustration from a drawing of
his own (reproduced above), which agrees with his description. More-
over, we received the paper directly from Professor Abbe ; and un-
questionably he would have struck out the word "diameters" and sub-
stituted " degrees " if he had really seen the ray extending to the
greater distance. Note also that the word " diameter " is used through-
out the descriptions of other rays.

The ray marked 2 was seen as soon as 1. Its bounding edges, di-
verging from each other, but not from the sun's center, produced a
somewhat fan-shaped ray. "When first seen," says Abbe, "I esti-
mated its outer limit at one diameter, but subsequently traced it to a
diameter and a half from the sun. Its left-hand edge appeared some-
what sharper and brighter than the right-hand edge. With this excep-
tion the light was very uniformly distributed throughout its surface,
fading away rapidly at its outer end. It also remained changeless
throughout the totalitv."

No. 3 was also seen at the same time as No. 1. " It was narrower
and shorter than No. 1 : its estimated length, three diameters. It
broadened at its base, like No. 1, and had the same uniform tint and
intensity,"

No. 4 " was not noticed at all until the totality was half over. Its

664 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

leno-th was one diameter, and it was certainly brighter at the end far-
thest from the sun. It remained perfectly steady," adds Professor
Abbe, " after I once noticed it, and gradually I became aware of a faint
light partially connecting it with No. 3, so that the final impression left
on me was that these two constituted one fan-shaped projection similar
to No. 2, but fading out in the central portions. The axis of No. 1 and
of Nos. 3 and 4 passed nearly, if not exactly, through the sun's center.

No. 5 extended fully five diameters from the sun's limb, " and was
in all respects similar to No. 1. Its base was broader than that of No.
1, which I attributed," says Abbe, "to the glare of the increasing
corona " and of a mound of the ruddy prominence matter (low-lying,
so as to form only an extension of the sierra). The light of No. 5 was
fainter, Professor Abbe thought, than that of No. 1. " Its edges were
straight, except in so far as tbe coronal glare appeared to unduly
broaden the base. Its axis passed very nearly through the sun's center,
and was in the prolongation of the axis of No. 2."

Professor Abbe's explanation of these rays or streamei's occurred to
him an hour or so after seeing them. He advances it as one which
"will probably result in the overthrow of all previously entertained
theories respecting the character and cause of these streams of light."
But in reality it is not nearly so novel as he seems to imagine. It is,
indeed, partly new, and in our opinion it is in great part true ; but
what is true in it is not new, and we question greatly whether what is
new in it can possibly be true. Let astronomers judge.

" Meteor streams," says Professor Abbe, " is the key to the solution
— not such meteors as some suppose to be falling into the sun daily,
but the grand streams of meteors that cause the numerous shooting
stars of Auo-ust and November, and of the existence of which there is
indubitable proof. These streams consist of fine particles or pieces,
each a long way from its neighbor, but all rushing along in parallel
orbits about the sun, like the falling drops of rain in a thunder-shower.
The August stream is calculated to be several hundred thousand miles
broad and thick, and many million miles long. Such a stream, when
far beyond the sun, but still lighted up by it, would reflect to us a
faint uniform light precisely like that of these rays. If one end of the
stream Avere farther from us than the other, the effect of the perspective
would be to produce a tapering or wedge-shaped appearance. In some
other part of our orbit, or with the meteor stream in some other part
of its orbit, the perspective might vanish and the two ends appear of
the same width. In this way we shall undoubtedly be able to exiolain
the very numerous historical and memorable occasions on which flam-
ing coronas, swords, comets, etc., seen in the sky during a total eclipse
have been regarded by the superstitious as divine omens."

"We have very little doubt that the great extension of the corona in
certain directions during many total eclipses, and the probably far
greater extension of a fainter, not readily discerned lustre during all

THE SUN'S LONG STREAMERS. 66s

eclipses, is due to the existence of meteor streams. It is also un-
doubtedly true that several of the meteor systems encountered by our
earth in her journey round the sun have the vast dimensions mentioned
by Professor Abbe. Indeed, he far underrates the dimensions of the
August and November meteor systems, each of which must be mea-
sured in length by hundreds of millions of miles, not by mere millions.
But it is absolutely impossible that any of the meteor systems traversed
by our earth, or any meteor systems of no greater degree of richness,
should present the appearance of streamers surrounding the sun, like
those in our figure above. So far as the two systems specially men-
tioned by Professor Abbe are concerned, inasmuch as we know the exact
shape and position of the orbits along which the meteors forming these
systems travel, we can determine the exact position which the meteoric
streams occupy in the heavens at any moment ; and most certainly
neither of them on July 29th last occupied the position of the two
beams shown across the sun in our figure. The August system was
the one which at the time passed nearest to the sun's place on the sky,
but it did not come within several degrees of the sun. The November
system did not even cross the part of the sky where the sun was.
These two systems, therefore, could not possibly be connected in any
way with the two streams, of whatever nature, which produced the
rays intersecting exactly at the sun.

But there is a more general objection to the theory that such meteor
systems may explain coronal streamers seen during total eclipses of the
sun. If such streams could be seen when situated beyond the sun, they
would be seen far better when opposite the sun on the dark background
of the midnight sky. Take, for instance, the November meteors. We
know that the flight of meteors, some 2,000,000,000 of miles long,
which the earth traversed in November, 1866, 1867, 18C8, 1869, 1870,
and 1871, is now nearing the remotest part of the long orbit of the
November system, many millions of miles beyond the path of Uranus.
We know that at midnight in winter the richest part of that system
lies due south, at an elevation varying from 30° to 50° above the
horizon. There, illuminated fully by the sun, though at a great dis-
tance from him, it ought to be far better seen than a similar system
lying beyond the sun and visible only through the light of the brightest
part of the corona. But no one has ever, on the darkest and clearest
night and under the most favorable atmospheric conditions, even sus-
pected the existence of the faintest possible light where the heart of
the November system is really situated. Much less, then, could such a
system be seen during total eclipse (if so situated as to lie athwart the
sun). Systems less rich than the November system (the richest known
to us) would have still less chance of being discerned.

If, then, we are to account for the radial streamers seen by Professor
Abbe, and also seen during many other total eclipses, though to a less
distance, by the meteoric theory, we must consider meteor systems
VOL. xiv. — i3

666 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

very unlike those through which the earth herself passes. The meteor
systems required by the theory must be much denser and much more
brightly illuminated than the August and November systems. To say
they must be much more brightly illuminated is equivalent to saying
that they must be much nearer the sun. And in this we see an escape
from another difficulty. Meteor systems very near the sun would be
far more likely to appear as streamers extending radially from him
than systems at a great distance from him. A distant system might,
by a mere chance, so appear. For instance, if a total eclipse of the
sun had occurred on or about May 10, 1865, the November meteor sys-
tem (whose richest part was then crossing the earth's track at the
point she occupies on November 13th) would have appeared, if dis-
cernible at all, as a streak athwart the sun's place in the sky, and there-
fore forming two rays on opposite sides of him, somewhat like 2 and 5
in our figure. Sixteen years or so earlier or later the November system
would present a similar appearance, only very much fainter, on account
of greatly increased distance, during a total eclipse occurring on or
about November 13th. At no other time in the year except November
13th and May 10th, or about these dates, could the November system
present such an appearance. But a sj'stem traveling close to the sun,
and not far from the plane near which all the planets travel, Avould
present at all times nearly the appearance of a pair of rays like 2 and
5 of our figure. On this account, therefore, as well as on account of
the greater brightness with which such meteor systems would be illu-
minated, we must prefer the theory that the systems to which the
coronal rays are due travel near to the sun.

Yet, even as thus presented, the meteor theory alone seems inade-
quate to explain the coronal streamers. There is an enormous mass of
evidence showing that meteor systems are most richly strewed through-
out a region around the sun, extending nearly to the distance of the
planet Mercury ; but there is also abundant reason for believing that
these multitudinous systems would present an appearance very different
from that depicted in Professor Abbe's view of the coronal streamers.
We want something quite distinct from the theory of a mere aggrega-
tion of meteors to account for these rays, whether pointed or fan-shaped,
extending directly from the sun. The aggregation of meteors might
present the appearance of a luminous cloud around the place of the
eclipsed sun. This cloud might be to some degree radiated, because
each meteor system would have a course carrying it either directly
athwart the sun's place on the sky, or nearly so. But there would be
nothing like those sharply defined streamers extending separately from
the sun to distances of ten or twelve sun-breadths. Sir George Airy,
describing the appearance of the corona during the eclipse of 1851, pic-
tures just such a cloud as we should expect to result from the aggrega-
tion of meteors. " Its color," he said, " was white, or resembling that
of Venus ; there was no flickering or unsteadiness ; it was not separated

THE SUN'S LONG STREAMERS. 667

from the moon, nor had it any annular structure : it looked like a radi-
ated luminous cloud behind the moon." The long streamers manifestly
require a different explanation.

We can not but think that the true explanation of these streamers,
whatever it may be (we are not in the least prepared to say what it is),
will be found whensoever astronomers have found an explanation of
comets' tails. These singular appendages, like the streamers seen by
Professor Abbe, extend directly to the sun, as if he exerted some repel-
lent action on the matter forming the heads of comets. Indeed, Sir
John Herschel did not hesitate to say that the existence of such a
repulsive force was, to all intents and purposes, demonstrated by the
phenomena of comets' tails. Now we know that meteors and comets
are in some waj' associated, though the actual nature of the connection
between them is not clear. It is certain that the November meteors,
the August meteors, and other such systems, follow in the track of
known comets. We know that when, in 1862, the earth passed through
the region of space along which Biela's comet had recently traveled,
there was a display of thousands of meteors, all radiating from just
that part of the heavens from which bodies traveling parallel to the
orbit of Biela's comet would have seemed to radiate. It follows from
this association between comets and meteors, and from the fact that
probably thousands of meteoric and cometic systems travel close to the
sun, that in all probability there must exist generally, if not always, in
the sun's neighborhood, enormous quantities of the substance whence
comets' tails are formed by the sun's repellent action. This being so,
we should expect to find generally, if not always, long streams of mat-
ter extending from the sun's immediate neighborhood, in the same way
that comets' tails extend from comets' heads. Whether the repulsive
force is electrical, magnetic, or otherwise, does not at present concern
us ; or rather it does concern us, but at present we are quite unable to
answer the question. All that we know certainly is that, in the first
place, the sun does in some way cause streams of luminous matter to
appear beyond the heads of comets, in a direction opposite to his own,
and to enormous distances ; and, in the second place, that the matter
forming comets' heads is probably present at all times, in large quanti-
ties, in the sun's immediate neighborhood. We can hence infer, with
extreme probability, that such long streamers as Abbe saw last July,
Myer in August, 1869, Feilitzsch in June, 1860, and several Swedish
observers during the eclipse of 1733, are produced in the same way as
comets' tails, and therefore really extend (as they seem to do) radially
from the sun. It is also certain that if they did not really extend ra-
diallv from the sun, their alwavs seeming to do so would be altofirether
inexplicable. So that the theory to which we are led in one direction
leads us also out of what would else be a very perplexing diflBculty in
another direction. — Cornhill Magazine.

668 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SKETCH OF CHRISTIAN GOTTFRIED EHRENBERG.

By FEEDEEICK HOFFMANN.

AMONG the pioneers and master minds in the domain of natural
science, during the first half of the nineteenth century, several
have risen far above their contemporary co-laborers, and have attained
to heroic prominence ; while a few, transcending the limits of their
own period, have largely contributed to giving shape and character
to their time, opened and entered upon novel jDaths or new fields of
inquiry, and thereby have immortalized their life-work, and their nam.e
in history's imperishable record. Among these sovereigns of science
ranks Christian Gottpkied Ehrenberg, whose labors and researches
for more than sixty years have connected his name with the most
illustrious scientific discoveries of modern times.

Ehrenberg was the son of a Lutheran minister, and was born April
19, 1795, at Delitsch, in Prussia. Having received a classical education
at home, and at the famous Schulpforte Gymnasium, he entered the
University of Leipsic in 1815 as a student of theology. During the
three years' course of theology, he also occupied himself with the study
of natural sciences, and, through his increasing interest in the wonders
of the creation, took up the study of medicine in 1818 at the University
of Berlin, then as now the greatest and foremost of German universi-
ties. His efforts and researches were soon directed toward the investi-
gation of the minute organisms and the ultimate forms and phenomena
of organic life. Since the time of that first remarkable triumvirate,
Malpighi, Grew, and Leeuwenhoek, who toward the close of the seven-
teenth and in the opening of the eighteenth century had laid the scien-
tific foundations of the microscopical method of investigation, hardly
any substantial addition, beyond those awakening mere curiosity, had
been made to the observations of those eminent investigators. At the
beginning of the nineteenth century, Dutrochet, Mirbel, Saussure, and
Knight had inaugurated a more searching investigation into anatomy
and physiology. Link, Treviranus, and Rudolphi followed with still
more elaborate and comprehensive researches, and paved the way to
the discoveries early attained and rapidly accumulated by Ehrenberg's
genius and industry. His master mind discerned the disconnected facts
and details of his material in the light of uniformity and generalization.
In lieu of the then prevailing belief in generatio equivoca, one of the
first achievements of Ehrenberg was an account of a long series of in-
vestigations, at once strikingly acute, thorough, and convincing, of a
large number of fungi, demonstrating that they, no less than the higher
vegetable organisms, originated from seeds. He soon explored the
cryptogamic flora of the environs of Berlin, and published a series of

SKETCH OF CHRISTIAN GOTTFRIED EHRENBERG. 669

important discoveries in his dissertation entitled " Silvee mycologiege
berolinenses " (1818), and in other essays. To the former he prefixed
the motto, which became, as it were, the key-note of all his later labors
and works :

Der Welten Kleines auch ist wunderbar und gross,
Und aus dem Kleiiien bauen sich die Welten.'

While still a student, the novelty and exactness of his observations
and researches, and the high order of his deductions, at once established
their author's reputation ; and many of the eminent scholars and pro-
fessors of the Prussian capital encouraged and aided the rising inves-
tigator, among them Lichtenstein, Alexander von Humboldt, Rudolphi,
Link, Klug, Von Schlechtendal, Adelbert von Chamisso, Carl Ritter,
Kunze, E. Mitscherlich, and others. After having passed the state
medical examinati9n, he was proposed for a professorship at the Uni-
versity of Konigsberg, and also by the Berlin Academy of Sciences as
a scientific attache to an archasological expedition to the Nile countries,
instituted by the Prussian General von Minutoli. He accepted the
latter offer, together with his friend Dr. Hemprich, of Berlin. The
expedition started from Alexandria in Egypt, in September, 1820, went
through the Cyrenaica to the oasis of Jupiter Ammon, back to Cairo ;
in 1821 to Fajum, the pyramids of Sakhara, to Dongola in Nubia ; in
1823 to the Sinai peninsula, to Syria, the Lebanon ranges, to Balbek
and return by the way of Tripoli to Damietta. These expeditions were
followed by others into Abyssinia, sailing down the Red Sea, stopping
at and making trips to Tor, Djedda, Mecca, the islands of Gumfude,
Ketumbul, Dalac, Farsan, etc. At Massauna the joint expedition came
to an untimely end by the death of Dr. Hemprich in 1823. Ehrenberg
then accomplished the plan of their mission alone.

To wdiat hardships and dangers Ehrenberg was exposed for 3'ears
while traveling through and exploring arid deserts, amid hostile tribes
of marauding Arabs, during the prevalence of an epidemic of the
plague, and unprovided with any of the comforts and conveniences of
later expeditions, may be seen from the simple fact that the expedi-
tion lost seven of its members by death, and that of its scientific at-
taches Ehrenberg alone survived. He returned to Berlin in 1826, with
magnificent collections of botanical, zoological, and geological speci-
mens, embracing all departments of natural science, and an immense
number of microscopical preparations until then unknown, and which
remain for verification and ready inspection to this day. The extent
and importance of these rare collections may be estimated by the mere
statement that they included 46,000 botanical specimens, representing
3,000 species of plants ; about 34,000 specimens from the animal king-
dom, representing 4,000 species ; while no less comprehensive were the

' The small too in the universe is wondrous and great,
And worlds are constituted out of that which is little.

670 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

geological and ethnograpliical collections, the geographical and mete-
orological observations, and other results of the expedition.

Considering such material mainly as requisite means for investiga-
tion and for comparative study, Ehrenberg now applied himself with
unceasing zeal and diligence to his rich collections, assisted by eminent
scholars and artists, for the illustration of microscopical objects. The
results were published during the years 1828-1830, in a volume
entitled " Scientific Travels through Northern Africa and Western
Asia, by Ehrenberg and Hemprich," and in a series of elaborate, strictly
scientific works, written in the Latin language, with more than eighty
splendid illustrative plates, the principal ones being the following :
" Symbolae physica?, seu icones et descriptiones mammalium " (1828),
"Symbolfe physicse avium" (1828), " Symbolfe physicas insectorum "
(1829-1834), "Symbols physicjB animalium evertebratorum sepositis
insectis " (1829-1831).

The continuation of these consummate researches and labors was
interrupted for about one year, when in 1829 Alexander von Humboldt,
Ehrenberg, and Gustav Rose, on invitation of the Russian Government,
undertook an expedition to the Ural and Altai regions, with the special
aim of exploring their mineral resources. After the return from this ex-
ploration, Ehrenberg entered upon the most fruitful epoch of his labors
and career : he accepted a professorship at the Berlin University, but
still continued his original researches with unceasing assiduity. His
first publications had already attracted the attention of the learned
throughout Europe, and secured for the young investigator a reputation
among the remarkable array of savants then in Berlin, \yhen that
severe critic, Cuvier, in 1830, presented Ehrenberg's first publications to
the " Institute of France," he accompanied them with these words :
" Ces decouvertes changent entierement les idees et renversent surtout
bien des systemes, elles sont du nombre de celles qui font epoque dans
les sciences."

The continuous series of publications fomided on and recording his
discoveries and researches, had reference principally to such problems
and objects as the phosphorescence of the ocean, corals, fossil as well
as living deposits of minute organic remains in the strata of the earth's
crust, the minute organic life in the atmosphere, the phenomena of
blood rain and snow, dust-showers and the " Bleeding Host," which
latter one, during the middle ages, was the cause of the most barbarous
excesses of the Inquisition. All these investigations and works were
followed by his splendid exploration, beginning with 1840, of the
minute organic creation, and by the disclosure of the influence of that
" realm of httleness " in the development of the present condition of
the earth's crust, and on the whole organic life of nature.

In consummate generalizations he laid down the results of his life-
long, profound, and comprehensive observations and researches in the
most famous of his many works, " Microgeology " (1854). Henceforth

SKETCH OF CHRISTIAN GOTTFRIED EHRENBERG. 671

governments, travelers, and scientists, from all parts of the globe, sub-
mitted specimens and problematic objects to the investigation or the
verdict of the Berlin microscopist and savant. Deep-sea soundings,
which began about this time, were especially fruitful in material for
research ; and the surprising result was brought to view that organic
beings e:s:ist even at the greatest depth of the earth's submarine
declivities, previously believed to be void of life.

Those who, in common with the writer, dm-ing Ehrenberg's most pro-
ductive years, have witnessed and participated in the ardor and enthu-
siasm of the great and genial scholar and teacher, will ever remember
with veneration the originality and conscientiousness of his methods of
research, his wonderful skill, elegance, and acuteness in microscopical
observation, and, above all, the lucid and graphic description of the
master whose eyes undoubtedly had done more close and critical micro-
scopical research than those of any contemporary. In him were fully
and harmoniously blended the strictest sense of duty and truthfulness,
the highest order of intellectual attainments, the exquisite taste of the
accomplished classical scholar, and the charm of religious faith, genial
disposition, and a generous heart.

Ehrenberg continued his work steadily and unfailingly to the end of
his life, even when his eyesight had become impaired by protracted
application, and when almost all of his famous contemporary co-laborers
at the Berlin University had passed away.

In reviewing the discoveries, the works, and achievements of Ehren-
berg, one is strongly impressed by their vast number and their high
order in a domain at once so abstruse and so unHmited. In his hands,
microscopical research first attained its proper application and a definite
character, and revealed new fields of inquiry, afterward successfully
trodden by others ; his physiological and biological investigations paved
the way for those discoveries which, in rapid succession, have been since
effected in the structure and processes of the human body in health and
disease, and which have shed much light upon the progress of every branch
of the healing art. His researches and achievements contributed to
every department of the physical sciences ; the minute organic creation
became, for the first time in our knowledge, a new link in the scale of
animated beings, and its influence upon the formation of the strata of
the earth's crust and their geological history was recognized. All the
writings of Ehrenberg, the occasional orations and addresses delivered
by him as Rector Magnificus of the University, as Permanent Secretary
of the Berlin Academy of Sciences, etc, are masterpieces of learning,
of exquisite style, replete with exalted ideas, and form enduring evi-
dences of their illustrious author's eminence. His name will ever be
honored as the father of modern microscopy.

How profoundly faith and rare modesty were congenial to his mind,
will appear from the following brief passage from one of his latest rec-
toral orations; "Investigators and writers who, because at the limit of

672 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

their knowledge and powers, conclude that there is no soul, ergo no
immortal life, may from their own point of view be quite right ; but
they are not on that account by any means to be accepted as represen-
tative men of science. The proper sentiment of the naturalist is this,
that so far from pretending to inspiration or infallibility, he humbly
recognizes the limitations inherent in his own intellectual powers, and
imposed upon him and his time ; while with all the faculties of his
mind and soul, and with faith, he labors unbiased and assuredly, aiming
at truth and confident of the usefulness of his life-work to his own or
to subsequent generations, who sooner or later will recognize every
true contribution to the stock of knowledge and to a purer and pro-
founder insight into the wonders of the creation. The true investigator
of nature should never divest himself of the idea that he is, as it were,
a son in his Father's house and a co-worker, in his own humble sphere,
with the great Ordainer of the universe."

The universal appreciation of Ehrenberg and his achievements found
a spontaneous expression on the occasion of the celebration of the
fiftieth anniversary of his doctorate in medicine, on November 5, 1868,
when felicitations and honors poured in upon the veteran savant from
all countries. The United States were represented in official congratu-
lation by their Minister Plenipotentiary, Mr. George Bancroft, and in
addresses from the American Association for the Advancement of Sci-
ence, the American Medical Association, the American Pharmaceutical
Association, and also in a poem by Dr. O. W. Holmes. These tributes
were presented by Mr. Bancroft, who afterward had them all printed
in a pamphlet.

Devoted and faithful to his life-work, he maintained his powers
and his activity to the end. As stirring and brilliant as the day of
his life had been, was its evening serene and hopeful ; gently and
without pain he passed away, on the 28th of June, 187C, in his eighty-
second year.

His large and invaluable collections he bequeathed to the Muse-
ums of the University of Berlin.

CORRESP ONDENCE,

673

CORRESPONDENCE.

SINGING MICE.

To the Editors of the Popular Science MontJtly.

READING the article in your November
number from " Nature " on " Singing
Mice" recalls my experience with one of
these interesting little animals : Some years
since, while residing at Santa Fe, New Mexi-
co, one of these vocal mice made its appear-
ance in my house. The sounds were noticed ;
some time before the animal was seen. As
with Mr. Lee's mice, there was a canary-bird |
in the room, and for a time the notes coming
from the wall were attributed to the canary.
At last, however, the mouse would come out '
on the carpet seeking for crumbs, and there '
sing. The notes were almost identical with
those of a canary. It would not trill so
long, but in pitch and tone were identical
— at least to an unmusical ear. The same
filling and throbbing in the throat seen in a
bird were also seen in the mouse while he
sang The sound was not sibilant, but
strictly canorous with the pitch of an ordi-
nary canary. After this mouse had fur-
nished entertainment for a month to my-
self and family, I found him so tame I could
touch him, and that he was utterly blind.
It was very touching to see the gentle little
creature turn up its cloudy, sightless eyes
to the candle when he was brought near to
it on the floor of the dining-room. Small
parties would- assemble in the evening to
hear this wonderful little vocalist without
frightening him. He would come out on
the carpet with all the confidence and
aplomb of an old actor, and delight his hear-
ers. I was afraid to keep him in confine-
ment for fear he would die. Our cat was
banished for the same reason, and we would
not set any traps for fear he would be caught.
Finally, we became so overrun that we had
either to commence hostiUties or abandon
the house. We set a trap in a cupboard in
the room, and alas ! poor little singing Mus
was the very first victim. I found, on ex-
amining the body, that he was exceedingly
old — so old as to be blind, as I remarked —
and his teeth were very long and yellow.
The lower ones had grown up above the
nostril. The existence of messmates or
anything internal I did not verify. As for
the theory of this accomplishment being the
result of pregnancy, that was eliminated by
the sex. I then had an idea that the sounds
might have been produced by the air being
forced through the long, overgrown gnawers,
they acting as a sort of string. The animal

was a true mouse. We have here a rat
very little larger than a mouse, but it was
not one of these. It was identical with the
ordinary American mouse, and there was no
peculiarity in color or length of ears, as re-
marked by Lee. This was the only one I
ever had an opportunity of examining. The
Mexicans, however, say they are not uncom-
mon, and are superstitious about their ap-
pearance. My servants were greatly dis-
tressed and alarmed at the death of this
one: a coincident ill fortune in the family
was looked upon as having a plain and suf-
ficient raisoji d'etre.

Lewis Kesnon, A. M., M. D.

Fort Batard, New Mexico, (
January 14, 1879. f

DR. LAEDNER AND TRANSATLANTIC
STEAM-NAVIGATION.

To the Editors of the Popular Science Monthly.

In your February number. Dr. Burns
somewhat autocratically takes you to task
for stating that Dr. Lardner had declared
in some of his earlier lectures that steam-
navigation across the Atlantic was "im-
practicable," and he quotes, from a very
imperfect edition of Dr. Lardner's early lec-
tures on the steam-engine, a foot-note by
Professor Renwick, to show that it was the
latter and not Dr. Lardner who at that time
deemed the experiment impracticable.

As usual, you are correct in your state-
ment, and Dr. Burns has fallen into a very
material error, in the first place from not
understanding the position of Dr. Lardner
as implied by your remark in the December
number of the journal, and from evidently
not having read Dr. Lardner's later and
fuller lectures on " The Prospects of Steam-
Navigation," delivered in the principal cities
of the United States during 1843 and 1844.
The best edition of these lectures is the
one published by Greeley and McElrath, of
the "Tribune," in 1846, which edition was
revised for publication by Dr. Lardner him-
self. I quote from his lecture on "The
Prospects of Steam-Navigation," as found
on page 269 of Volume I. His lecture begins
with this statement of the facts obtaining
then, as to ocean navigation, and his opin-
ion as to its practicability :

" Ten years have now rolled away since
the project was first announced to the world,
to supersede the far-famed New York and
Liverpool packet-ships, by a magnificent
establishment of steam liners. . . . The'

674

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

amiouncement was hailed with one general
shout of acclamation. . . . There were some,
however, who, being conversant with the
actual condition of the art of steam-engi-
neeiing as applied to navigation, . . . were
enabled to estimate, calmly and dispassion
ately, the difficulties and drawbacks, as well
as the advantages of the undertaking. . . .
These persons entertained doubts, which
clouded the brightness of their hopes, and
warned the commercial world against the
indulgence of too sanguine anticipations of
the immediate and unqualified realization of
the project. But the voice of remonstrance
was drowned amid the loud shouts of public
enthusiasm, excited by the promise of an
immediate practical realization of a scheme
so grand.

" The keel of the Great Western was
laid, an assurance was given that the sea-
sons would not twice run through their
changes before she would be followed by a
splendid line of vessels which should con-
sign the 'packet-ships' to the care of the
historian, as ' things that were.'

" The Great Western progressed and was
launched, and the enterprise has now had a
fair trial during ten years, a suffitieutly long
time, it is presumed, to test it. The packet-
ships, however, have not been swept from
the ocean ; on the contrary, they have been
improved in efficiency, increased in magni-
tude, and multiplied in number. Capital,
instead of being drawn from them, allured
by the prospective advantages of the steam
liners, has only collected around them in
augmented amount, obeying, as it always
does, that irresistible attraction which prof-

itable results invariably exercise in com-
merce. Ou the other hand, the steam pro-
ject which was to prove their doom has
made its flash, and disappeared, leaving the
Great Western . . . alone in her glory . . .
to esiablish at once the abstract practicability
of the scheme in a mechanical sense, and the
utter inadequacy of its organization in a
commercial sense.''''

This was the opinion of Dr. Lardner in
1846, nearly twenty years after the publica-
tion of the edition of his lectures quoted by
Dr Burns, and more than ten years after
ocean steam -navigation had become an es-
' tablished mechanical fact. The views en-
tertained by Dr. Lardner at that time were
very simular to those entertained by scien-
tists to-day in regard to the problem of
aerial navigation, mechanically practicable,
but in the present conditions of inventions
pertaining to it, so far as its commercial
value is concerned, an impracticability ;
moreover. Dr. Lardner, in the lecture from
which I quote, uses almost the same argu-
ments quoted by Dr. Burns, from Professor
Renwick's foot-note, viz., the large amount
of fuel necessary for long ocean voyages,
and the great expense attending its use, as
compared with the cost of sailing vessels.

Dr. Lardner, however, lived to see ocean
navigation by steam a success, commercially
as well as mechanically, and to qualify many
of the ideas and arguments advanced in his
earlier lectures.

Very respectfully,

A. W. Erwin.

Sioux Citv, Iowa, February 3, 1879.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

MORE ROOM FOR THE SCIENCES.

IT can not be kept too clearly in mind
that the broad issue of modern ed-
ticational reform is whether sciences or
languages shall predominate as objects
and instruments of culture. Shall phys-
ical nature, life, man, society, and the
actual phenomena of experience, be-
come the leading objects of study; or
shall the acquisition of forms of speech,
the accumulation of verbal symbols, and
the discipline of grammar-grinding con-
tinue to hold their traditional ascend-
ancy? No question now arises as to
taking both of these modes of mental
culture along together, for it is con-
"»ceded on all hands that neither can be

dispensed with, but the contest is as to
which shall lead in a rivalry of widely
different systems. The issue is, by
which method shall the education of
the future be cliaracterized?

The languages are in possession, and
of course have great advantages in the
conflict from this fact. For the notion
has grown up that a liberal knowledge
of language u education, while nothing
else is properly entitled to the name.
Lingual studies, moreover, have the
vast advantage that they are taken as
the standards and measures of acquisi-
tion. Memorizing words, learning rules,
construing and translating, make profi-
ciency easily determinable; and when

EDITOR'S TABLE.

675

scientific studies are introduced, as their
results are not measurable by these old
standards, it is inferred that they are
not measurable at all, and are therefore
unfitted to form the staple of systematic
education.

But, although much is made of this
difiiculty, it is not serious. Science will
create its own standards when it has
had time and experience, and meantime
its demands are for opportunity — room
— facilities. An edifice can not be con-
structed until space is first granted for
it to occupy ; scientific education can
not be organized until time and mate-
rials are yielded for the purpose. Old
studies must be put out of the way,
that new studies may take their place
and the new education have a free
course.

From this point of view we note
and record with interest all indications
that the old subjects which are now
holding their place by the right of pre-
scription and any pretexts that are
available are yet compelled, by the ten-
dencies of the times, to abandon their
claims and surrender their ground.
The advocates of the dead languages
fight desperately to maintain their an-
cient precedence, but they are losing
the battle. Even in England, where
the whole fi-amework of society is
braced and bound by endowments which
conserve the old and resist the new,
and where the universities and public
schools, rich and independent, combine
against all modern encroachments,
there are increasing indications that
the old classical claims are i-egarded by
their partisans as now untenable and
must be given up. It is virtually if
not avowedly conceded in high quar-
ters that one or other of the dead lan-
guages must go, and in fact the clas-
sicists are already themselves at logger-
heads as to which it shall be.

A step in the liberal direction was
taken a few year ago, when the gram-
mar-schools were remodeled by the
Public Schools Commission by ceasing
to make Greek an ordinary subject of

instruction, and allowing the substitu-
tion for it of French or German. But
now a still more significant step has
been taken by several bead-masters and
other gentlemen interested in educa-
tion, who have united to petition the
authorities of Cambridge so to revise
the scheme of university studies that
Greek may be omitted if the student
does not choose to learn it. At present
it is a compulsory study, so that, though
men entering the university "maybe
the equals of Airy and Adams in piire
mathematics, of Tyndall and Huxley in
natural science, of a Whewell and a
Hamilton in moral science, they must
be able to read a play of Euripidis
and the Greek Testament, or Cambridge
will not have them among its gradu-
ates."

The appearance of this memorial,
signed by various weighty names, as
might have been expected, has raised a
controversial storm which has been
chiefly vented through the columns
of the London " Times." Mr. Oscar
Browning led off with a letter full of
sad forebodings, remarking, "To those
who believe that national intelligence
is the final cause of national greatness
and prosperity, the proposal to surren-
der Greek will sound like the knell of
disaster." The quiet way in which
such a smattering of Greek as the stu-
dents get at the universities is here
taken as the equivalent of that nation-
al intelligence which leads to national
greatness, shows us at all events that
Mr. Browning believes in his Greek.
He is, however, aware that there is
another kind of knowledge with strong
claims to attention, and thus refers to
it : " There are many who look forward
with satisfaction to the decay of clas-
sical education. In tlieir eyes modern
science, modern literature, modern in-
terests, are fitted to give a wider and
better education than was ever given
by the contemplation of antiquity.
The new learning which clamors on all
sides for recognition, calls out their
enthusiasm and zeal; the old learning

676

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is discreditec), as the subtilties of the
schoolmen were discredited at the time
of the Eenaissance."

Mr. Browning has not much faith
in this kind of knowledge for purposes
of education, but, if it is bound to come
and something must be given up, he
will stick by his Greek, let who will
suffer. He says : " If one of the two
languages must go, let it be Latin.
Greek is in every respect more valuable.
As a language it is more beautiful,
more rich, more flexible. Its literature
is incomparably superior. The loss of
Latin can be compensated by the lan-
guages derived from it. Nothing can
supply the place of Greek. It is idle to
suppose that if Greek were omitted
from our regular school curriculum it
would continue to be studied by the
older boys."

Nothing certainly could be more
idle, for the study is not adapted to
modern general wants, and therefore
has to be maintained by compulsion
and its position maintained by an artifi-
cial coercive policy. Science, on the
other hand, has grown up outside the
schools, without endowments, and has
been mainly developed by private en-
terprise because it is adapted to the
present stage of progress of the human
mind.

One of the " Times " correspondents
thus replies to Browning's suggestion
that Latin be sacrificed :

"The answer to Mr. Oscar Brown-
ing's question. Why should not Latin
be thrown over, if one of the two clas-
sical languages must cease to be com-
pulsory at the universities? is not far
to seek. It is true that Greek is easier
to learn, can be mastered thoroughly in
less time, has an incomparably finer
literature, and brings back times of
greater interest than Latin ; but these
advantages are surely trifling when
compared with the fact that Latin is
the foundation of the languages which
half Europe speaks and all Europe un-
derstands, and that it was a Latin-speak-
ing people which formed the institu-

tions, legal, social, ecclesiastical, and
political, which we now maintain. I
suspect that the genius of the English
character is too Roman, or at least too
anti-Hellenic, to gain as much from a
moderate acquaintance with Greek cul-
ture as it has gained from a moderate
acquaintance with the prominent Latin
authors."

RESTRICTIVE TENDENCIES IN GER-
MANY.

Toe great German experiment in
empire-making conducted in these mod-
ern days by the "man of blood and
iron" brings with it a train of de-
velopments which would be startling
if they were not so legitimate and nat-
ural. Bismarck has the reputation of
being a man of action and a great
practical administrator, but behind and
deeper than all this he is a thinker and
a theorist^ and the final estimate of him
will depend, not on the greatness of
the transactions which he has directed,
but upon the character of his opinions.
He holds certain hypothetical views of
human nature, society, and government,
and upon these he acts : the question
is. Will time vindicate their truth ? He
is now at the height of power, and is
lauded as a bold, sagacious, far-seeing
statesman : will the future disclose him
as a purblind political quack, as igno-
rant of his age and of all conditions of
national permanence in modern times
as the brilliant French adventurer who
ravaged Europe in the beginning of the
present century? This we shall not
undertake to decide, but it looks, at
any rate, as if Bismarck were cutting
out work for his successors which they
will probably not be able to perform.

When recently Professor Virchow
solemnly admonished the scientific men
of Germany to beware how they exer-
cised the liberty of scientific discussion,
lest they provoke governmental inter-
ference and suppression, it was thought,
outside of Germany, that he was hard-
ly in earnest, and was merely girding at

EDITOR'S TABLE.

677

the Darwinians for the sake of effect.
Yet he appears to have spoken as if by
instruction, for it seems the determined
plan of the Imperial Government not
to allow that measure of freedom in
speech which has become the estab-
lished policy in other leading coun-
tries.

Constitutional government in Prus-
sia, however, is but a recent thing,
having sprung up within a generation ;
while the new German Empire was
constituted by the treaties made at
Vei-sailles in January, 1871, during the
Franco-German war. Taking into ac-
count, therefore, the previous disci-
pline of the people, and the coercive
military character of German state
policy, too much in the way of liber-
ality is certainly not to be expected in
a short time. But it is nevertheless
interesting and instructive to see how
things hang together, and how one
thing involves and leads to another in
a thoroughly arbitrary form of govern-
ment.

Tlie German Empire, made up by
the recent amalgamation of twenty-six
states, and containing about 43,000,000
people, sustains an army on a peace-
footing of 1,283,791 soldiers, with 31,-
843 officers and upward of 300,000
horses. Military service is compulsory,
and the army is sustained by conscrip-
tion. The strengthening of the mea-
sures by which the military system is
maintained is illustrated by the follow-
ing paragraph which recently appeared
in the newspapers : " Sixty young men
having quitted the district of Thaun,
Alsace, to avoid conscription, they have
been sentenced, by default, to 1,200
marks fine, or 200 days imprisonment,
and to the seizure of their property to
that amount."

That the maintenance of such a
vast army in time of peace by grinding
taxation, and for purposes of despotic
violence, should have engendered a pro-
found spirit of revolt against the insti-
tutions and social order of the country,
is not surprising. Socialism is but the

correlative of a rampant imperialism —
the shadow of Bismarck. Did the Chan-
cellor expect that people with their
eyes open would not observe, and in
this age that they would not think and
comment upon what they saw ? At
any rate, he resolved to stifle all ex-
pressions of Socialistic doctrine in the
German Empire, and this he is no
doubt at present quite able to do. The
effects of the Socialist law are thus
represented by a writer in Berlin :
"The Prussian and German police in
general is an admirable piece of ma-
chinery. It is almost as thorough and
effective as the German army. It has
never done its work better than in
hunting down the Socialists. Up to De-
cember 22d, 144 clubs, 44 newspapers,
and 157 books and pamphlets had been
suppressed." The slaughter, or " pig-
sticking," as the Chancellor is said to
have grimly styled the game, has gone
on briskly since that time ; and the
columns of the " Eeichsanzeiger " give
no sign that the authorities are becom-
ing weary or merciful. The chief So-
cialist leaders have been turned out of
Berlin, and it is difficult for them to
find in Germany rest for the soles of
their feet. Some are in prison. A few
have emigrated in despair to America.
In a few weeks perhaps no trace of the
Socialist agitation will be discernible
on the face of German society. But
will the danger be gone when it is put
out of sight? The Chancellor can not
draw a cordon round the Fatherland
and exclude the poisonous literature
printed in London, Brussels, Verviers,
or Geneva, The malady will not be
cured because it is driven into the sys-
tem. The seductiveness of Socialist
opinions will not be a whit less than it
is because the Government appears to
dread them, and to have no confidence
in the weapons of reason against the
wild ideas that have taken hold of mul-
titudes.

Believing in no half-way policy,
Bismarck has cow pushed his tactics a
step further ; the gagging of the people

678

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

is followed by a proposal to gag the
German Parliament, the " Reichstag."
Previous enactments having muzzled
the press and silenced the voice of pub-
lic meetings, a law was still required
to fetter legislative debate whenever it
threatened to take a range displeasing
to the authority by which the country
is really ruled. It is difficult for us to
put the case in any other way than that
Bismarck is ruling Germany by a poli-
cy which he knows will not bear free
discussion.

That a Government founded upon
arbitrary power, which plunders the
country to sustain its armies, drags
young men into its armies, drives chil-
dren to school, and crushes the liberty
of speech, should apply its restrictive
methods also to trade, is not surprising.
The enslavement of commerce belongs
with the other tyrannical practices and
enactments of the past ; and the liberty
of commerce can come only with the
other liberties when the militant com-
pulsory forms of society are outgrown
or subordinated. That Bismarck should
favor the hampering of German trade
by increasing restrictive duties, as shown
by a recent letter upon the subject, is
no more surprising than his violations
of the otlier natural rights of German
citizens. Tariffs are the best means by
which rapacious governments can get
possession of the money of the people,
and Bismarck must have money.

LITERARY NOTICES.

Origin, Progress, and Destiny of the
English Language and Literature.
By John A. Weisse, M. D. New York :
J. W. Bouton. ISYQ. Pp. SOO. Price,

$5.

Two purposes are intended by the au-
thor of this work : first, to set forth a his-
tory of the English language and literature ;
and, second, to show the fitness of the Eng-
hsh to become the universal language of
civilized man. The Anglo-Saxon, the source
from which English has sprung, was a com-

posite language, consisting of three prin-
cipal Gotho-Germanic elements, viz., the
slightly variant dialects of the three north-
ern nations which in the fifth century es-
tablished themselves in Britain — the Jutes,
the Saxons, and the Angles. The author's
plan did not contemplate any set inquiry
into the origin of these dialects ; he has
but little to say about their descent from
one more ancient mother-language — the Ar-
yan— he simply accepts them as a fact, and
then proceeds to show how by the natural
process of development, profoundly modi-
fied by the environment, they, or rather the
one composite language, Anglo-Saxon, was
compounded with other elements to form
first the Franco-English (a. d. 1200 to
1600), and finally the English language as
it now is. Dr. Weisse's method consists in
setting before the reader specimens of the
literature of the successive centuries from
the invasion of the Angles, Saxons, and
Jutes, down to the present time, and classi-
fying the words according to the linguistic
sources from which they come. The result
shows the proportion of Anglo-Saxon, Lat-
in, Greek, French, and other elements con-
stituting the sum of the language at any
given period. It shows, further, the changes
undergone by the form of the language, if
we may so designate its grammar, as dis-
tinguished from its matter, i. e., its vocabu-
lary. Anglo-Saxon was a language possess-
ing a variety of inflections to designate by
the termination or by prefixes the diverse
relations between words or their signifi-
cates. Of these inflections English retains
but few : a possessive (or genitive) case for
nouns ; an accusative (or dative) for some
pronouns ; the plural sign s final for nouns,
and the final s in the third person singular
of the verb ; an imperfect (or aorist) tense
of verbs ; and perhaps some other traces.
For the most part we now express by
" prepositions," or by " auxiliary verbs,"
the relations expressed in Anglo-Saxon by
inflections, or root modifications. Our au-
thor's specimens from the literature af the
successive ages make all this very plain.
Then the changes in the matter of the Ian-
guage, its invasion by foreign words, are
exhibited. The first literary specimen in
the volume is taken from Ethelbert's code
of laws, which dates from the year 597.
Here, as in the case of all the specimens

LITERARY NOTICES.

679

cited by the author, the linguistic source of
each word is stated, and it thus appears
that in Ethelbert's time out of 100 words
not 07cr six were other than pure Anglo-
Saxon. Compare with this the constitution
of English. Dr. Weisse finds that out of
100 words in the Bible 78 are Anglo-Sax-
on ; in Samuel Johnson, 51. But of this
side of the work we have written enough.

Dr. Weisse was an utter stranger to
English up to his thirtieth year, and his
estimate of the value of our language at
that time was in direct ratio to his igno-
rance of it. Convinced of its inferiority to
certain other languages, he commenced the
researches of which this volume is the re-
sult, for the purpose of demonstrating that
inferiority. His studies satisfied him that
English " contains the cream and essence of
its predecessors and contemporaries ; that
its grammar is simpler, and that its records
and literature are more consecutive and
complete, than those of any other tongue."
He is not content to class English with the
best languages of the globe ; it surpasses
them all : it is the best, the most flexible,
the one language of all that have ever ex-
isted which is most suitable to become a
universal language. But there exist some
slight hindrances which Dr. Weisse labors
to remove, and the principal one is that we
do not " write as we pronounce or pi'onounce
as we write." If our " orthography " were
reformed and a few syntactical anomalies
corrected, nothing could prevent the Eng-
lish from becoming universal. Already it
is spoken by some 90,000,000 people, and
English-speaking nations are the masters of
a far larger area of the inhabited globe than
are the nations using any other tongue.

The author does not confine himself
very scrupulously to the programme indi-
cated in his title, but is ever digressing to
the right hand and to the left. His busi-
ness is with the English language as it has
been and as it is, but for page after page
the reader might suppose that he was pe-
rusing a dogmatic treatise de omnibus rebus.
Dr. Weisse himself is not unconscious of
the irrelevancy of much that he has writ-
ten, but he excuses it on the ground that
his digressions serve to amuse the reader
and make the perusal of the work a plea-
sure instead of an irksome task. For our

part, when we wish to learn the truth about
the supposititious visit of St. Paul to Brit-
ain, the history of Pelagius, or other top-
ics, we prefer to get our information from
the histories which deal with those sub-
jects. Though not uninteresting, these di-
gressions are a blemish, and should be
omitted if the work reaches a second edi-
tion. The volume is a valuable contribu-
tion to the history of the English language,
and we bespeak for it the earnest attention
of our readers.

A Treatise on the Law of Property in
Intellectual Productions in Great
Britain and the United States. Em-
bracing Copyright in Works of Litera-
ture and Art, and Playright in Dra-
matic and Musical Compositions. By
Eaton S. Drone. Boston : Little, Brown
& Co. 1879. Bvo, pp. 774. Price, §6.

The popular interest which the subject
of the rights and wrongs of authors has
recently awakened in England, France, and
the United States, and the uncertainty and
confusion into which the law of copyright
has been allowed to drift, make a satisfac-
tory treatise on this subject as welcome to
men of letters as to the legal profession.
The book before us is beyond comparison
the most thorough and critical work on lit-
erary property yet published in England or
this country, and, though an American pub-
lication, it is as complete an exposition of
the English as of our own law. Our read-
ers will remember that in his evidence be-
fore the English Copyright Commission,
which we reprinted in the December " Month-
ly," Professor Huxley maintained that there
was no distinction in principle between liter-
ary property and any other kind of property.
Herbert Spencer and Professor Tyndall, who
also testified before the Commission, were
evidently of the same opinion. In a prelimi-
nary essay on " The Origin and Nature of
Literary Property," Mr. Drone has gone to
the bottom of this subject, and by an elab-
orate examination of all the principles, au-
thorities, and arguments which bear on it,
shows that literary property has the same
genei-al attributes and is governed by the
same general principles that obtain in the
case of all property. Hence the right of an
author to his intellectual productions is no
more a monopoly subject to the whims of the

68o

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Legislature than is the title of the owner to
his lands or bonds. Until about a century ago
this principle was recognized and acted on
in England, where perpetual copyright in
printed books was not denied till 1774, when
the House of Lords, following the empty
declamation of Lord Camden instead of the
sound opinions of Lord Mansfield, Sir Wil-
liam Blackstone, and other learned jurists,
decided, on an equal division of the judges,
that authors had no rights in their pub-
lished works excepting what Parliament
might choose to give them. This decision
has since controlled the law in England
and the United States, but, as Mr. Drone
forcibly maintains, it was " contrary not
only to right and justice, but to the true
purpose and meaning of the statute " (of
Anne) " as determined by settled rules of
construction."

The question whether the unlicensed
abridgment of a copyrighted book is pirati-
cal, is one which is likely to be brought
home to any author of an elaborate work.
n the law on this point is governed by loose
judicial dicta and doubtful precedents, hon-
est authors have little reason to hope for
protection against piracy. But Mr. Drone,
following his plan of determining the law by
governing principles, shows that the unau-
thorized abridgment of a copyrighted work
is piratical. After a thorough discussion
of the subject, he thus sums up the whole
matter: "A genuine abridgment embodies
the substantial results contained in the
work abridged, and, if unauthorized, is dam-
aging to the author of the original. The
question of piracy is determined by the
application of the established principle that
no one without authority shall take a mate-
rial part of another's work to the injury of
the person entitled to protection. It is set-
tled that piracy may be committed by tak-
ing a few pages from a copyrighted book ;
to hold that the substance of the whole may
be lawfully appropriated, if published in the
form of an abridgment, is as absurd as it
is inconsistent and unjust." Under the
head of blasphemous publications, he con-
siders the question whether a work hostile
to religion is entitled to copyright. Lord
Eldon refused an injunction against the
piratical publication of Sir William Law-
rence's " Lectures on Physiology, Zoology,

and the Natural History of Man," on the
ground that the original contahied passages
which " impugned the doctrines of the im-
materiality and immortality of the soul."
For similar reasons, the same judge refused
to protect Byron's " Cain." Mr. Drone crit-
icises these decisions as being unsound and
illiberal, and maintains that even in Eng-
land, where the law on this subject is more
stringent than in the United States, there is
no good reason why protection should be
denied to publications in which the preva-
lent doctrines relating to religion are doubted
or denied with moderation and sincerity.

Many other important and interesting
questions are ably discussed in language
which is singularly concise, clear, and free
from legal verbiage. The work will doubt-
less take its place as the standard authority
on the subject of which it treats.

Ferxs in their Homes and ours. By John

Robinson. S. E. Cassino, Publisher.

Naturalists' Agency, Salem, Pp. 178.

Price, $1.50. Illustrated.

This is the first American work devoted
exclusively to the cultivation of ferns, and
it is intended to serve as a guide to those
in this country who are interested in the
subject and would like to know how
ferns may best be cultivated. The spir-
it of the book is well expressed on its
last page in the following words : " The
writer will not claim that the fern-mania,
which may be traced from its beginning
across the ocean to its recent development
in this country, is a hobby superior to most
others ; but he does claim that, properly
guided, it can be the means of stimulating
pure and healthy exercise and study ; and
that, whether pursued in a scientific way
or only as a pastime, it can in any event do
no harm, but may be the cause of great and
permanent good. If this little book shall
in any way conduce to the love of the grace-
ful plants of whose culture it treats, or aid
any beginner in the study of the ferns, the
writer will feel that another pleasure has
been added to that which he has already
experienced in its composition."

As an example of the abihty of the
author to carry out his purpose, we quote
the following from Chapter V., entitled
" How to collect Ferns for Cultivation."
Premising that the desire to collect ferns is

LITERARY NOTICES.

681

a natural accompaniment of vacation-trips,

the author says :

When we meet them in their full beauty they
are in the most unfavorable state for transplant-
ing, as, in the vigor of its growing condition in
its natural home, a fern will endure little rough
handling, and requires tender care to persuade
it to grow in any other place. It would be bet-
ter to wait till the season's activity is passed,
which it is probable we can not do ; or collect
our ferns in the early spring, before the croziers
unroll ; but when the plants are in this condi-
tion, only an experienced botanizer knows what
to look for and where to find it. Suppose, then,
that in July or August we wish to obtain a small
collection of our native ferns in their living state.
The best way of transporting them is, of course,
with their fronds uncrushed, in a box or basket
of suflScient size. But this is not always prac-
ticable. It may be necessary to condense them
into the smallest possible space. As we collect
them the ferns can be kept in a bowl or basket
till we are preparing for our journey home.
When we gather them the roots should be
carefully dug up, not wrenched from their sur-
roundings ; and, when we begin to get them
ready for their travels, should not be very wet.
Sufl'er the plants to remain without water a day
or two before packing, only do not allow them
to become exactly dry. Then we may shake off
as much of the earth as will readily fall away,
and, wrapping each fern with a bit of damp (not
wet) moss, roll it up in a bit of paper large
enough to hold all together, tying the parcel
with a thread. The fronds should all project
beyond the moss and paper, and only enough of
them be left to insure a healthy start the next
season — three or four on an ordinary and six on
a very large plant. To remember bow the ferns
looked (for we are not yet supposed to know
their names), it is a good plan to press a frond
of each, and number it, tying a tag with the
corresponding number to the specimen itself.
When this is done, all the packages should be
arranged with the fronds lying in the same di-
rection, and a number of fresh fronds should be
collected and tied around the fronds of the ferns
to be carried home. Then the whole may be
rolled up firmly into a bundle, covered with sev-
eral thicknesses of stout manila paper and tied
securely. The package is now ready to place in
a trunk to deliver to the expressman or carry
under the arm. Unless it is exposed to the sun,
or in a very dry place, this bundle will not suf-
fer in vitality or health for two or three weeks.
At the journey's end the ferns must be carefully
unwrapped and firmly planted in a good light
soil, whether out of doors or in the fernery. At
first nearly all the fronds will lie quite prostrate
on the ground, but if they are frequently sprin-
kled on both sides and their roots kept only
damp, the plants will establish themselves and
reward the pains bestowed upon them by a fine
healthy growth the next season.

The volume contains six colored illus-
trations of interesting specie?, and numer-
VOL. XIV. — 44

ous plates illustrative of the growth and
culture of ferns. A very tempting front,
ispiece shows the fern-corner of the writ-
er's greenhouse. There is an important
chapter concerning soils and pots for ferns,
with pictures of pots of several different
forms : one upon fern-cases, another with
lists of ferns suitable for cultivation in trop-
ical and temperate houses and in fem-cases.
Fern-pests are also discussed, and pictures
of nine of these creatures are given in plate
22. But further details are needless ; the
book teems with useful instruction from
beginning to end.

Sanitary Examinations of Water, Air,
AND Food. A Handbook for the Med-
ical Officer of Health. With Illustra-
tions. Bv Cornelius B. Fox, M. D.,
M. R. C. P., London, Medical Officer of
Health of East, Central, and South Es-
sex ; Fellow of the Chemical Society, etc.,
etc. Philadelphia : Lindsay & Blakiston,
1878. Price, $4.

This volume appears in response to a
demand, by the scientific world, and espe-
cially of those engaged in the public-health
service, for a third edition of the brochure
on " Water Analysis." The author has re-
written nearly all he had before published
upon the subject, and now offers the results
of an increased and extended experience.
He has also incorporated with his essay
on " Water Analysis," sections on " Exami-
nations of Air and Food." His aim is to
furnish hints and suggestions, helpful to
those who have not, like himself, " plodded
for years through tortuous paths, at the sac-
rifice of much time and labor." In prepar-
ing the book, two objects were kept steadily
in view : " 1. To avoid a consideration of
these three subjects, solely after the manner
of an analyst, who mechanically deals with
chemical operations and arithmetical cal-
culations, but to treat them as a physician
who studies them in connection with health
and disease ; 2. To render such details re-
specting examinations of water, air, and
food, as fall within the province of the med-
ical officer of health, so free from techni-
calities, and all cloudy and chaotic sur-
roundings, as to enable any one, who pos-
sesses the average chemical knowledge of a
physician, to teach himself, by the aid of
this vade mecum of the health officer."

682

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The following extracts will give a fair
idea of the author's admirable directness
of statement, and the valuable practical in-
formation he has been able to substitute for
much of the technical detail that usually
encumbers such a book :

An excess of aqueous vapor in the atmos-
phere has not only a depressing effect on the
nervous system, but it Interferes with the cutane-
ous and pulmonary exhalations. If the tempera-
ture is high (65° to 80° Fahr.), saturated air is sul-
try and ofl'eusive. If low (e. g., a Scotch mist of
36° Fahr.), its chilling influence penetrates all
clothing. At least one iin.lf of the patients which
apply for relief during the winter mouths to the
physicians of the metropolitan and provincial
hospitals of this country are afflicted with colds,
coughs, and bronchial and rheumatic affections.
The iirevalence of these disorders at this season
is, without a doubt, due partly to the coldness
and partly to the excessive moisture of our very
changeable climate. Above 80° Fahr., air of ex-
cessive humidity becomes injurious; and it has
been doubted as to whether life can be prolonged
in such air at a temperature between 90° and 100°
Fahr.

The relation between such lung diseases as
bronchitis and pneumonia and the unwhole-
some condition of the air of our dwellings has
not been sufficiently recognized by the medical
profession and the public. One of the most
common causes of an attack of bronchitis is a
Budden exposure of the bronchial mucous mem-
brane to extreme conditions of air. A man
who breathes for some hours the hot and dry
vitiated air of anunventilated room is prone to
be thus affected on passing out into cold, damp
night air. If debilitated, from any cause, the in-
flammation may affect the substance of the lung,
and the man will have pneumonia.

General Vaccination. By Elisha Har-
ris, M. D. Cambridge : Riverside Press,
1877. Pp. 16.

In this paper, Dr. Harris presents his
well-matured views on the laws, sanitary
provisions, and methods best fitted for se-
curing the benefits of general vaccination
throughout the United States. The same
author, in another paper, suggests plans for
securing complete and authentic records
of deaths and the causes of death in this
country.

Constituents of Climate. By F. D. Lente,
M. D. From the " Richmond and Lou-
isville Medical Journal," 1878. Pp. 56.

The author of this pamphlet is a resident
of Florida, and considers the " Constituents
of Climate " with special reference to the
climate of that State.

Democracy in Europe. By Sir Thomas
Erskine May. 2 vols. Kew York :
W. J. Widdleton, 1878. Pp. 495, 568.
Price, $5.

The progress of democracy, that is, of
popular power, in European states, is a fact
that is regarded with widely difierent emo-
tions— some persons seeing in it unmixed
evil, while others expect from it the solution
of all the problems which vex the student of
political science. The event will in all prob-
ability confound the adherents of both of
these extreme opinions, and it will be found,
after the last barrier to popular self-govern-
ment has been removed, that the human
race will still pursue the even tenor of its
way. But, however this may be, the work
before us treats of a living question, and is
sure to win the attention of the thinking
public.

Our author investigates the causes to
which the progress of democracy in Europe
is to be ascribed ; how far it has contributed
to good government ; what have been its
dangers and mischiefs ; and for his illustra-
tions he goes to the East, to Greece, to
Rome, the middle ages, the Italian repub-
lics, Switzerland, the Netherlands, France,
and England. The work is a series of stud-
ies of democracy in the countries named,
and the author is careful not to call it a
" History of Democracy in Europe," which
would be simply another expression for a
" History of Europe."

Of the work in general it may be re-
marked that it gives evidence of diligent
research and abundant learning; also that
it is written in a highly philosophical spirit.
No homage is here rendered to forms of
government, nor is the power of mere stat-
utes and constitutions regarded as para-
mount in shaping the destinies of man in
society. On the contrary. Sir Erskine May
expressly investigates the social, moral, and
physical causes of freedom, shows how the
development of popular power is a natural
law, considers the influence upon society
and freedom of local environment, as the
sea, navigable rivers, etc. ; the influence of
race ; and many other factors usually over-
looked by the Dryasdusts.

Hence we are the more surprised at the
fact that he himself has overlooked one of the
most easily discernible factors in the devel-
opment of democracy in Europe. If we are

LITERARY NOTICES.

683

to believe the testimony of many not un-
intelligent observers, a very evident tendency
to " Americanization " is everywhere visible
in European life, and naturally this tendency
would be apparent first of all in political
life. Even in the quiet of the German uni-
versities " Americanization" is an ever-pres-
ent specter. Yet in these two volumes lit-
tle or no reference is made to the United
States. True, the author says of the Amer-
ican Revolution that " it was a prelude to
revolution in Europe " ; that it " stimulated
the popular movement in England and in
France." But that is all. With Sir Ers-
kine May the post-Revolutionary history of
the United States goes for nothing, appa -
ently, in so far as European democracy is
concerned. Surely this is a fatal oversight
in our author, and one that can not be re-
paired without rewriting the entire work.

The Native Flowers and Ferns op the
United States. By Thomas Meehan.
Monthly Parts, each with Four Colored
Plates. Boston : L. Prang & Co. 1878.
50 cents each.

We have before us Parts VI. to XII. in-
clusive, completing the first of the two vol-
umes of this valuable work ; and, though we
have noticed it before, we take occasion
on the completion of Vol. I. to again com-
mend it to the favorable attention of our
readers. The text is a familiar account of
the different flowers and ferns. Their asso-
ciations with human history, wherever such
associations have existed, are pleasantly re-
counted ; the medicinal and household uses
of each species receive attention ; the botani-
cal characters are clearly stated ; in short,
the purely literary portion of the work is of
the highest excellence. As for the plates,
it can be said of them without exaggeration
that they leave nothing to be desired, wheth-
er with respect to their artistic beauty or
their fidelity to nature.

The Races of Ecropean Turkey. By Ed-
son L. Clark. New York : Dodd, Mead
& Co. 1878. Pp. 532. Price, $3.

The first of the three parts into which
this work is divided contains a sketch of By-
zantine history from the beginning of Jus-
tinian's reign down to the fall of Constanti-
nople. The second gives an account of the

modern Greeks and Albanians, their national
characters, the state of religion and educa-
tion among them, and their present condition
and prospects. The third part is devoted
to the Turkish Slavonians, the Wallachians,
and the Gypsies, with sketches of the his-
tory of Servia, Bulgaria, and Montenegro.

Report of the Board of Regents of the
Smithsonian Institution for 1877.
Washington: Government Printing-Of-
fice. 1878. Pp. 500.

Among the most important papers con-
tained in this report is one on " Color-
Blindness in its Relation to Accidents by
Rail and Sea," by Professor Holmgren, of
the Upsal University. The author gives
thehistory of color-blindness, and points out
practical methods for discovering and de-
termining defects of the sense of color. To
this treatise is appended an article on " Color-
Blindness" contributed to the "Princeton
Review " more than thirty years ago by Pro-
fessor Joseph Henry. There is a number of
papers, by different authors, on American an-
tiquities. Other essays in the report which
are specially worthy of notice are: "Notes
on the History and Climate of New Mexico,"
" Change of the Mexican Axolotl to an Am-
blystoma" (translated from the German),
" Diminution of the Aqueous Vapor of the
Atmosphere with Increase of Altitude"
(translated from the French), together with
several other short memoirs on meteorologi-
cal subjects.

Bulletin of the United States Geological
AND Geographical Survey of the Ter-
ritories. Vol. IV., No. 3, pp. 200 ; No.
4, pp. 140. 1878. Washington: Gov-
ernment Printing- Office.

The contents of No. 3 include notes on
the birds of Dakota and Montana, by Dr.
Elliott Coues ; on fishes from the Rio Grande,
by Dr. D. S. Jordan ; on the North Ameri-
can Pyralidce, by Professor A. R. Grote;
paleontological papers, by Dr. C. A. White ;
notes on fossils foimd in a dark shale dis-
covered at Independence, Iowa, by Professor
S. Calvin; and a paper on the mineralogy
of Nevada, by Dr. W. J, Hoftman. No. 4
comprises a memoir by S. H. Scudder on
certain fossil insects ; a report by Dr. E.
Coues on the fishes of Dakota and Montana ;
a catalogue of plants of the same region, by

684

TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

the same author; remarks by Dr. F. M.
Endrich on some striking products of erosion
in Colorado ; a paper on the Laramie group
of rocks, by Dr. C. A. White ; and finally a
synonymatic list of the American Sciuri, by
J. A. Allen.

Our Revenue System and the Civil Ser-
vice, by A. L. Earle; Suffrage in
Cities, by S. Sterne; Protection and
Revenue in 1877, by Professor W.
G. Sumner; France and the United
States; Free Trade, by R. Hawley.
New York : Putnam's Sons. 1878. 25
cents each.

The titles of these publications sufiQ-
ciently indicate their purpose — viz., to dif-
fuse among the people information concern-
ing the great economic questions of the
time. The volumes constitute a series of
" Economic Monographs," published under
the auspices of the New York Free Trade
Club.

The Strength of Materials, by W. Kent,
M. E., pp. 140 ; Handbook of the Elec-
tro-Magnetic Telegraph, by A. E.
LoRiNG, Practical Telegrapher, pp. 98;
Maximum Stresses in Framed Bridges,
by Professor William Cain, C. E., pp.
192 ; Geographical Surveying : its
Uses, Methods, and Results, by F.
de Yeaux Carpenter, C. E., pp. 176 ;
Transmission of Power by Compressed
Air, by Robert Zahner, C. E., pp.
133. New York : Van Nostrand. 1878.
Price, 50 cents each.
These latest volumes of Van Nostrand's
series of brief treatises on subjects of prac-
tical science need no commendation. They
are all written by men perfectly well versed
in the subjects of which they treat, and the
practical mechanician, electrician, surveyor,
etc., will find in them precisely that kind
and that measure of information which they
most urgently need.

Zoology of the Vertebrate Animals. By
Alexander Macalister, M. D. Pp. 146.
Astronomy. Bv R. S. Ball, LL. D.
New York : Holt & Co. 1878. Pp. 167.
60 cents each.

The volumes named above are the first
two, we believe, of a series entitled " Hand-
books for Students and General Readers."
Wherever it may appear to be desirable,
the works are revised with special reference

to the United States. Thus the volume on
the Vertebrates is " specially revised " by
Professor A. S. Packard, Jr., and the As-
tronomy by Professor Simon Newcomb,
The editors and publishers of the series ap-
pear to have spared no pains and no ex-
pense to make the several volumes as per-
fect expositions as may be under the cir-
cumstances of the various departments of
knowledge of which they treat.

Total Abstinence. By Benjamin Ward
Richardson, M. D.,' etc. London and
New York : Macmillan. 1878. Pp. 119.
50 cents.

The advocates of " prohibition " and
" total abstinence " will derive great encour-
agement from the perusal of this little pam-
phlet : it contains the strongest arguments
that can be advanced on the physiological
side in favor of their views. Readers who
are neither prohibitionists nor total abstain-
ers would do well also to examine the ma-
tured opinions on the " wine question " of so
eminent an authority as Dr. Richardson.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

Journal of a Tour in Marocco and the Great
Atlas. By J. D. Hooker, K. C. S. I., etc., and J.
Ball F. R. S. London and New York: Macmil-
lan. 1878. Pp.515. $6.50.

Lectures on Materia Medica. By Carroll Dun-
ham, M. D. New York: Printed by Francis
Hart & Co. 1878. For sale at homoeopathic
pharmacies. Vol. I., pp. 409 ; Vol. II., pp. 419.

Natural History of the Agricultural Ant of
Texas. By H. C. McCook. With Plates. Pub-
lished by the Author. Academy of Natural Sci-
ences, Philadelphia. 1879. Pp. 310. $4.

Lecture Notes on Chemical Physiology and
Pathology. By Victor C. Vau<rhan, M. D. Ann
Arbor, Michigan : Ann Arbor Printing and Pub-
lishing Co. 1878'. Pp.315.

The Great Slighted Fortune. By J. D. Bell.
New York : T. Y. Crowell. Pp. 462. $1.50.

New and Original Theories of the Great Phys-
ical Forces. By U. R. Rogers, M. D. Published
by the Author. 1878. Pp. 108.

Paradoxical Philosophy: A Sequel to "The
Fcseen Universe." London and New York:
Macmillan. 1878. Pp. 235. $1.75.

Harmony of Science and the Bible on the Na-
ture of the Soul. By J. U. Kellogg, M. D. Pp.
2^4. 75 cents.

Diphtheria : its Causes, Prevention, and Prop-
er Treatment. Same Author. Battle Creek,
Michigan : " Review and Herald " Publishing Co.
1879. Pp. 64. 25 cents.

"Wanderines in South America. By Charles
Watertou. London and New York : Macmillan.
1879. Pp. 536. $6..50.

Demonology and Devil-Lore. By Moncure
Daniel Conway. New York : Holt & Co. 1879.
Vol. L, pp. 444; Vol. H., pp. 48a

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

68s

Native Flowers and Ferns of the United States.
By Thomas Meehan. Boston : Praug & Co. 1878.
Parts 17, 18, 19, 80. 50 cents each.

Index Medicus: Monthly Classified Record of
the Current Medical Literature of the World.
New York : Leypoldt. Vol. I., No. 1. Pp. 72.
$3 per year.

Relation of Adhesion to Horizontal Pressure
in Mountain Dynamics. By H. F. Wallius.
With Plates. From '' Proceedings of American
Association." Pp. 20.

On the Crystallography of Calcite. By J. S.
McD. Irby. Bonn : Charles George print. 1878.
Pp. 72.

Annual Report of the Health OflBcer of the Dis-
trict of Columbia (1878). Washington: Govern-
ment Printing-Offlce. Pp.117.

The Aphididae of the United States. By C.
V. Riley and J. Monell. With Plates from Bulle-
tin of the United States Geological and Geo-
graphical Survey of the Territories. Pp. 32.

Report of the State Board of Health of Colo-
rado (1877). Denver: " Tribune '' print. Pp. 161.

Dictionary of Music and Musicians. By
George Grove. London and New York : Mac-
millan. 1S79. Part V. $1.25.

Industrial Education. By Alexander Hogg.
Galveston, Texas: "News" print. 1879. Pp. 52.

Aural Therapeutics. By S. Theobald, M. D.
From " Maryland Medical Journal." Pp. 10.

A New Order of Extinct Reptiles. By Profes-
sor O. C. Marsli. With Plates. From " Ameri-
can Joum.al of Science and Art." Pp. 8.

Some Early Notices of the Indians of Ohio.
ByM.F. Force. Cincinnati: Clarke. 1879. Pp.
75. 50 cents.

The Applications of the Physical Forces. By
Amedee Guillemin. Part L "London and New
York ; Macmillan. 1879. Pp. 48. 40 cents.

Inequality in Length of the Lower Limbs. By
William Hunt, M. D. From " American Jour-
nal of Medical Sciences." Pp. 6.

Are Inebriates Automatons ? By G. M. Beard,
M. D. From " Quarterly Journal "of Inebriety."
Pp. 12.

Address and Memorial in Opposition to the
Bill to amend Statutes relating to Patents. Cin-
cinnati:" Times " print. 1879. Pp.76.

Inscribed Stone of Grave Creek Mound. By
M. C. Raid. From " American Antiquarian."

Address of Professor A. R. Grote, Vice-Presi-
dent Section B, American Association. Salem :
printed at the Salem press. 1878.

Report on the Walnut Hill Asylum. Hartford,
Connecticut : Press of Case, Lockvvood & Brain-
ard Co. 1878. Pp. 26.

Silica vs. Ammonia: Report of Dr. A. E. Le-
doux. Raleish, North Carolina : " Farmer & Me-
chanic " print. Pp. 23.

A Fable of the SpWer and the Bees. Com-
piled by the National Defense Association. New
York. 1873. Pp. 61.

Hampton Tracts ; Health Laws of Moses ;
Duty of Teachers : Preventable Diseases ; Who
found Jamie ? A Haunted House. New York :
Putnams. 1879. 8 cents each.

The Antiquities and Platycnemism of the
Mound Builders of Wisconsin. By J. M. DeHart,
M. D. Pp. 15.

On the Illumination of Lines of Molecular
Pressure. By W. Crookes, F. R. S. London.
1878. Pp. 11.

Objections to the Doctrine of the Resurrec-
tion of the Body. By a Physician who his seen an
Angel. Philadelphia : Gross & Halloway print.
Pp. 21.

Alcoholic Medication. By N. Newby, M. D.
Spiceland, Indiana. 1877. Pp. 16.

Extent and Significance of the Wisconsin
Kettle Moraine. By T. C. Chamberlin. From
Transactions Wisconsin Academy of Sciences.
Pp. 36.

Yellow Fever. By J. Livingston. New Or-
leans : Hyatt print. Pp. lb.

Congress and the North Pole. By Captain
H. W. Howgate, United States Army. Kansas
City, Missouri : " Review of Science and Indus-
try " print. 1879. Pp. 43.

Spencer's Social Anatomy. By H. M. Sim-
mons. From Transactions Wisconsin Academy
of Science. Pp. 6,

Thoughts on our Conceptions of Physical
Law. By Professor Francis E. Niphor. Kansas
City, Missouri : " Review " print. Pp. 9.

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

Printing and the Perpetuity of Modern
Civilizations. — The subjoined remarks on the
influence of printing on the permanency of
our modern civilizations are from the able
address delivered in August last before the
American Association for the Advancement
of Science, by Professor A. R. Grote, Vice-
President of Section B :

Those who have brought together the
story of the ancient civilization of Greece
have agreed with unanimity that the separa-
tion between the mass of the people and the
intellectual portion became at length insur-
mountable, and finally led to national de-
struction. This makes for our own view,
that it was to a defect or incompleteness
in the machinery for the dissemination of
knowledge that we must ascribe the dying
out of the older states. An intellectual
aristocracy was established in Greece, which,
in order to maintain its superior position,
and thus, from natural and selfish motives,
endeavored to prevent the spreading of new
facts, but it was assisted in this action by
the limitations which an ignorance of the
art of mechanically duplicating writing
threw around it. Philosophers have ex-
plained the fall of Greece, by considering it
as a necessary step in the progress of hu-
manity and the perfection of a future bloom
of knowledge. And so in one sense it may
be ; but still exactly where the defect lay,
and where there is a positive advantage in
the conditions of modern civilization, and
wherein modern civilization more adequate-
ly protects the state, have sometimes escaped
them. To understand this fully we must

686

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

come back to natural history, to anthropol-
ogy, at last. A large class of persons with
a certain bias persistently decry our modern
civilization, and look for its more or less
speedy evanishment, merely because Rome
perished and Greece decayed. But nowhere
in nature is there exact repetition, and to
understand the new civilization we must re-
member that it rests on a larger average in-
telligence, brought directly about by the dis-
covery of the art of printing. There is then
a distinct reason, a scientific ground, for the
opinion that our present civilization rests
upon a surer basis than did those which
preceded it, and this we may safely bring
forward in the cause of truth. For science
is in danger always of being regarded as the
enemy of the state, because it tends con-
stantly to modify existing ideas. But if we
can show the necessity for a constant modi-
fication of our ideas, arising out of our own
constitution, then it may be seen to be un-
reasonable to defame those who follow the
search for truth. And it being undoubted-
ly true, as Locke says, that, of all the men
we meet with, nine out of ten are what they
are, good or evil, useful or not, by their ed-
ucation, we can see how wide-reaching the
effect of our improved basis of civilization
must be upon us as a people, and how im-
portant it is to understand the real direction
in which it works.

The Causes of Ocean-Cnrrents. — An im-
portant contribution to the theory of ocean-
currents is made by Professor Zoppritz, of
the University of Giessen, who aims to show
that these currents are produced by the
impulsion of the winds. As Mr. Croll ob-
serves, in bringing Zoppritz's paper under
the notice of English readers in " Nature,"
one of the main objections urged against
this theory is that the winds can produce
only a surface movement, while many of
the ocean-currents extend to great depths.
The reply to this objection is, that if the
surface waters be impelled forward with a
constant velocity by the wind or any other
cause, they will drag along with themselves,
though with a velocity somewhat less, the
layer immediately below themselves. This
second stratum now exerts the same in-
fluence on a third adjoining stratum, and
sets it in motion in the same direction. The

third stratum, in like manner, draws with
itself a fourth, and so on. The propagation of
this velocity is only bounded by the limits
of the fluid itself. If these limits consist of
a solid plane parallel to the strata, then the
propagation of the velocity will cease only
at that point, i. e., between the last liquid
stratum and the first solid stratum. Among
the results found, the author lays particular
emphasis on two: "In the first place, the
steady motion arising in the interior of an
unlimited stratum of water from an unvary-
ing surface velocity makes itself felt with
linearly decreasing velocity down to the
bottom. Hitherto the view frequently ex-
pressed was, that the influence of surface
currents reached only to very moderate
depths. Secondly, it was found that all
variations according to time, whether pe-
riodic or aperiodic, of the forces acting on
the surface, propagate themselves downward
with extraordinary slowness, the periodic
in very quickly decreasing amount. Taking
both statements together, it follows that the
movement of the chief part of the stratum
of water exposed to periodically varying sur-
face forces is determined by the mean ve-
locity of the surface, and that the periodic
variations are observable only Ln a compara-
tively thin surface stratum."

Population-Density and Rates of Mortal-
ity.— Some curious and interesting results
are developed by Dr. Farr, F. R. S., from a
study of the rate of mortality in connection
with statistics of population-density. He
finds that the rate of mortality increases as
density of population increases, and this he
proves by arranging the 619 districts of
England and Wales in groups according to
the rates of mortality, and showing that
all the groups follow this law. Thus in the
ten years 1861-"70, at one end of the scale
the deaths per 1,000 of population are 15,
16, and lY; at the other end, 31, 33, and
39. The acres per capita in the correspond-
ing districts are 12, 4, and 3, and I'Ol, "05,
I'Ol. The intermediate rates of mortality
are 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, and 25, while
the acres /)c;" capita are 4, 3'3, 2*9, 2'1, I'l,
•05, and "02. Now, excluding the London
districts, about which there is some diflBculty,
we have 7 groups of districts where the
mortality ranges thus : IV, 19, 22, 25, 28,

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

6Sy

32, and 39. In the same districts the num-
ber of persons to a square mile is IGO, 1S6,
379, 1,718, 4,499, 12,351, and 63,823. Thus,
ia Liverpoo], the densest and the unhealth-
iest district in England, there were 63,823
to an acre ; of whom 39 per 1,000 died an-
nually. This series of facts may be put in
a different way ; The nearer people live to
each other the shorter their lives are. Thus
the proximity of people in 53 districts is 147
yards, the mean duration of life is 51 years;
in 345 districts the proximity is 139 yards,
and the mean duration of life is 45 years ; in
137 districts the proximity is 97 yards, and
the mean duration of life is 40 years ; in 47
districts the proximity is 46 yards, and the
mean duration of life is 35 years ; in 9 dis-
tricts the proximity is 28 yards, the mean
duration of life is 32 years. In Manchester
district the proximity is 17 yards, and the
mean duration of life is 29 years ; in Liver-
pool district the proximity is 7 yards, and
the mean duration of life is 26 years. This
Ls a determined law, and, the duration of life
being given in one set of conditions, the
duration of life in another set of conditions
is determined from the proximities.

An Interesting Collection of Sonth Ameri-
can Fossils. — Prof. Cope bought the collec-
tion of fossil bones from the Argentine Con-
federation which were brought to show at
the Paris Exposition. Sevei'al countries are
said to have wanted them. They will be of
value in this country, because the chief por-
tion of them are not to be found anywhere
in the United States. They come from Pat-
agonia, and the collection includes about
one hundred and fifty specimens of animals.
There are nineteen skeletons, chiefly of large
animals, almost completely whole, among
which are armadilloes and sloths. One of
the armadilloes has a curious tail which in-
creases in size toward the end, at which
point it takes an oval shape and is from a
foot to eighteen inches wide. Unlike that
of all other armadilloes, it is without joints,
except that at the base. It is supposed to
have been a fighting weapon. Another rare
specimen is a sabre-toothed tiger, of which
there is only one other known specimen in
the world. The size of the sloth skeletons
varies from that of a small black bear to the
largest elephant. The sabre-toothed tiger

and the club-tailed armadillo are supposed to
have been monarchs of the forests in their
day. It has not yet been determined to
what institution of science the collection is
to be presented.

Artificial Diamonds. — In examining the
papers of their deceased father, J. N. Gau-
nal, Messrs. A. and F. Gaunal found one
which purported to be a copy of a memoir
presented by him to the Paris Academy of
Sciences in 1828, and which gave an ac-
count of a process for the artificial produc-
tion of diamonds. The Academy simply
buried the communication in its archives,
and never mentioned it in any way. The
substance of this document is now published
in " Le Monde de Science et de I'Industrie,"
from which we take the following particu-
lars : Equal weights of carbon sulphide and
of phosphorus, both as pure as possible,
are put in a flask, and a little water added
which floats on the top and prevents the
sulphide from turning to vapor and from
taking fire. The whole having been placed
in some situation where it will not be dis-
turbed, the sulphur of the sulphides com-
bines with the phosphorus and releases the
carbon, which falls to the bottom and as-
sumes a^crystalline form. This result takes
place slowly, and not till after the lapse of
six months was M. Gaunal able to obtain
diamonds the size of a grain of millet-seed.
As for the purity of these small diamonds
it was proved by the strictest tests, and
that not only by M. Gaunal but also by
others. The experiment was repeated sev-
eral times in the course of many years by
M. Gaunal, and always with the same re-
sult. The artificial diamonds consist of
pure carbon in dodecahedral crystals, and
they scratch steel like the natural diamond.

Protection of Iron Surfaces from Rnst.

— We have already briefly described Pro-
fessor Barfly's method of rendering the sur-
face of iron unoxidizable, yet, by way of in-
troducing some remarks on the results of
the process published in the " Lancet," we
may repeat that it consists merely in sub-
jecting the iron to the action of superheat-
ed steam — steam having a temperature of
1500° Fahr. This steam is generated in an
I upright boiler, and is then conducted through

688

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the " superheater," which imparts to it the
necessary temperature. The iron articles to
be acted on are placed in a chamber built
of fire-clay, and the steam being admitted
to it a coating of magnetic, or black, oxide
of iron is produced on the surface. And
now for the result. The article has a dull-
black appearance, and is susceptible of a
high degree of polish. The surface coat-
ing is absolutely adherent, and is so hard
that it is not removable by ordinary meth-
ods, for instance, an iron rasp has no effect
on it ; and the same is to be said of all the
agents which under ordinary conditions
oxidize iron. Salt or fresh water, vegetable
acids, and even the London atmosphere, are
unable to produce the slightest tarnish.
Iron vessels which have contained water for
weeks are entirely free from rust. Iron
piping and ornamental castings, which have
for months lain among the wet leaves in
the garden outside Professor BarfiPs labora-
tory, are unchanged. The cost of the pro-
cess is trifling, less than that of " galvaniz-
ing." The sanitary and domestic uses of
iron thus prepared are numerous, as for wa-
ter-pipes and cisterns and for cooking ap-
paratus.

Plants and Atmospheric Hnmidity. — Two

questions of considerable interest, viz., that
of the effect of living plants on the atmos-
phere of houses and that of the relations
between forests and atmospheric humidity,
appear to have no little light thrown upon
them by the ingenious researches of Dr. J.
M. Anders, published in the " American
NaturaUst." We can not state with any
degree of fullness the author's experiments
to determine the amount of vapor trans-
pired by plants in proportion to the area of
their leaf surface. Suffice it to say that ac-
cording to these experiments the " Wash-
ington elm," at Cambridge, Massachusetts,
with its 200,000 square feet of leaf surface,
would transpire seven and three quarter
tons of watery vapor in twelve diurnal
hours of clear weather. Carrying the cal-
culation further, a grove consisting of 500
trees, each with a leaf surface equal to that
of the elm mentioned, would return to the
atmosphere 3,8*75 tons of aqueous vapor in
twelve hours. In-doors, transpiration is dur-
ing the day only about one half as active as

in the open air, but at night it is about
equal in the two situations : hence the trans-
piration of a plant in-doors is more than one
half as much in twenty-four hours as it
would be outside. It follows that growing
plants increase the humidity of the atmos-
phere in a closed room. This point is very
important where rooms are heated by hot-
air furnaces. In such apartments the air
is drier than in apartments heated by a
stove or an open fireplace. In a dry at-
mosphere of the temperature of 65° to 68°
Fahr. a great demand is made upon the
system to supply the air with moisture, the
skin and pulmonary mucous membrane are
dried, and a condition is induced which is
expressed in irritability of the nervous sys-
tem, paleness and susceptibility of the skin
to cold, liability to pulmonary diseases, and,
in short, deterioration of all the functions.
Now, if the presence of a certain number
of thrifty plants in an occupied apartment,
warmed by dry air, would have the effect
of raising the proportion of aqueous vapor,
it is clear that plants in rooms heated by a
hot-air furnace would, in an hygienic point
of view, be of very decided value, since they
may become the means of obviating very
distressing symptoms, or even disease itself.
As for the question of the relation of forest-
growth to atmospheric humidity and conse-
quently to rainfall, such relation would ap-
pear to be clearly established by the au-
thor's researches.

Sonrce of Organic Matter in Igneous
Rocks. — Associated with the sheet of trap-
rock which forms the First Newark Moun-
tain, New Jersey, there occurs near Plain-
field an amygdaloid trap passing into a met-
amorphosed shale. Many of the cavities in
the amygdaloid rock are filled with a jet-
black carbonaceous mineral, closely resem-
bling the " albertite " of New Brunswick.
Above the amygdaloid is a metamorphosed
shale, traversed by seams and fissures, which
are frequently filled with the same albertite-
like mineral. Finally, resting on these met-
amorphosed beds are slates, shales, and
sandstones, which contain fossil fishes and
an abundance of obscure vegetal remains.
From this state of facts Mr. J. C. Russell
(" American Journal of Science " for Au-
gust) infers that the organic bodies in the

P OP ULAR MIS CELL AX Y.

689

uppermost strata furnished by their decom-
position the carbonaceous material in the
associated rocks, the heat derived from the
slowly-cooling injected roclcs playing an im-
portant part in this process. Similar de-
posits of carbonaceous mineral in igneous
rocks are found in other localities, as at
Cape Gaspe, and in the lava of Mount Etna,
though in these cases it occurs in the less
concentrated form of mineral oil. But Mr.
Russell sees in these different forces only
different stages of one and the same pro-
cess. " If," he writes, " the cavities of a
rock were filled with petroleum by infiltra-
tion, and evaporation slowly removed the
more volatile portions, and oxidation took
place to some extent, the result would be
the formation of a deposit of soUd hydro-
carbon in the cavities. A similar process
sometimes occurs with bottled samples of
petroleum, by which the interior of the
bottle is left coated with a solid carbonace-
ous layer. In the rocks, if a fresh supply
of oil were furnished from time to time by
infiltration, the cavities would eventually
become completely filled with the solid car-
bonaceous residue. A vesicular lava might
in this manner be changed to an amygda-
loid, the cavities of which would be filled
with solid hydrocarbons instead of quartz,
zeolites, etc. Such, it appears to us, must
have been the history of the Triassic amyg-
daloid we have described, the cavities of
which must at one time have been filled
with mineral oil. This is but an epitome
of what took place on a grand scale at the
great fissure, over 1,400 feet deep, in New
Brunswick, which was filled with albertite,
and in the case of the Grahamite in West
Virginia, which also occupies an immense
fissure."

Whence came the irctic Mammoth? —

Were the mammoths whose remains are
found in the north of Siberia native in
that region, or were they carried thither by
rivers from a more genial climate ? If the
latter supposition were correct, we should
find the remains only in the vicinity of the
great watercourses, while, in fact, they oc-
cur in localities distant from the beds of
streams. But here fresh difiiculties face us,
for, though the mammoth was covered with
a thick coat of long hair, how could it live

in a region where the temperature in Janu-
uary is as low as 65° Fahr., where the sum-
mer lasts only three or four months, and
where the vegetation is exceedingly scanty ?
The supposition is plainly inadmissible, and
hence either we must believe these remains
to have been transported hither, or else that
in early times the climate of Siberia was
much less severe than it is at present. Nor
is this a baseless theory, for, as Mr. U. H.
Howorth observes, the plants found in the
fissures of the rhinoceros-teeth (contempo-
rary with the mammoth) are those which
now live in southern Siberia. The plant-re-
mains associated with the mammoth (not
floated from a distance, but of the locality)
show the same thing, the species being
larch, birch, and other trees of good size.
Other evidences of the existence of a higher
mean temperature in Siberia at the time of
the mammoth are found in the fresh-water
and land shells associated with the remains,
but now extinct in northern Sibei-ia. As for
the manner of the mammoth's extinction, Mr.
Howorth beheves it to have been sudden.
The remains must have been preserved soon
after death. They were destroyed by a
flood due to some sudden convulsion, which
also changed the climate.

Civilization and Teeth.— From the study
of 1,249 skulls, of which 844 represent
modern highly civilized races, and 277 mod-
ern inferior races, while the remaining 128
belonged to Romans, Etruscans, Phoeni-
cians, and other nations of antiquity, Pro-
fessor Mantegazza reaches conclusions which
go to confirm a remark made by Mr. Dar-
win in "The Descent of Man." "It ap-
pears," writes Darwin, "as if the posterior
molar or wisdom teeth were tending to be-
come rudimentary in the more civilized races
of man." Professor Mantegazza finds that
the wisdom-teeth are more frequently absent
in the superior than in the inferior types,
the exact proportion being 42-42 per cent,
in skulls of the higher races against 19'86
in the lower. But atrophy of the third
molar tooth occurs less frequently in the
higher than in the lower races, viz., in 10*90
per cent, of the former, and in 20-58 per
cent, of the latter. In the lower races the
abnormal cases are practically equal to the
normal, while in the higher they are much

690

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

more numerous, the proportion being 62*9 1
per cent, to S'Z'OQ per cent. Mantegazza is
inclined to suppose that at a period more
or less remote the third molar will disappear
from the human jaw.

A New Plant. — A botanical discovery of
considerable interest is announced in a let-
ter, written by Dr. Beccari, from Sumatra.
It is a gigantic aroid, which can only be
compared with the Godwinia discovered by
Seewann in Nicaragua. Dr. Beccari is as
yet unable to determine the genus, but he
believes it to be a Conophallus. The tuber
of one plant was 1'40 metre in circumfer-
ence, and two men were hardly able to carry
it. From the tuber, as in the genus Amor-
phophallus, only one leaf is produced, which
in form and segmentation does not differ
much from that genus. But the dimensions
are very different indeed. The stalk at the
base in one instance was 90 centimetres in
girth, was slightly less at the apex, and
reached the height of 3-5 metres ; its sur-
face was smooth, of a green color, with nu-
merous small, white dots. The three branch-
es into which it was divided at the top were
each as large as a man's thigh, and were
divided several times, forming altogether a
frond not less than 3-1 metres long. The
whole leaf covered an area of 15 metres cir-
cumference. The spadix of a plant found
in fruit had the stalk-dimensions just given ;
the fruit-bearing portion was cylindrical, '75
centimetres in girth, 50 centimetres long,
and was densely covered with olive-shaped
fruit 35 to 40 millimetres long, and 35 milli-
metres in diameter, of a bright-red color,
each containing two seeds.

idvantagcs of Oral Teacliing.— It would
not be easy to compress within equal space
a greater amount of practical common sense
than we find in a i-ecent communication en-
titled " Our Schools," printed in " The Ex-
aminer." " I believe," writes the author,
*' that one of the great stumbling-blocks to
boys is want of oral teaching, in a popular
style, particularly among little boys. It is a
notorious fact that the grown-up world gen-
erally learns geography and history by means
of newspapers and reading accounts of cur-
rent events with the aid of the maps which are
published from time to timeforthe purpose.

and, if boys were taught in the same popular
manner at the commencement of their educa-
tion, it would do lasting good. We must all
remember the dreary toil of mastering geog-
raphy by learning a quantity of details out
of a book about the number of inhabitants,
names of rivers, the trade, the religion, and
manners and customs of any country, with-
out any means of impressing facts on the
mind, while history becomes a positive tread-
mill when left to a boy's private reading.
When the Prince of Wales went to India, if
any one with an attractive manner of talking
had taken a series of cartoons simply show-
ing the rivers, the principal cities and moun-
tain ranges, and some of the pictures pub-
lished in the illustrated papers, he could, by
arousing deep interest, have made the way
easy for acquiring a fuller, more complete
knowledge. The same mode of teaching
would apply to the late European wars, the
Indian famine, or any other great national
event or calamity. We do this kind of thing
in business matters every day of our lives
in committees, on trials, and in all important
transactions. It should be the same with
boys ; they should be interested in their
subject before being set to master its drier
details, which would, by this very introduc-
tion, lose much of their dryness."

Eetentive Memories. — A number of in-
stances of great retentiveness and accuracy
of memory are recorded by a writer in
" Chambers's Journal." Among the names
mentioned is that of Dr. Robert Chambers,
whose power of memory was very extraor-
dinary. For example, on a certain occasion
he was heard to say, " This day forty-seven
years ago, at twenty minutes past two o'clock,
I was passing " such a number of such a
street, and met such and such a one. The
author finds in Sir Walter Scott and in
Charles Dickens a Uke accuracy of memory,
and to this attributes no small share of theh-
success as story-writers. Then a case is
cited from one of Dr. Carpenter's writings
of a clergyman who, on visiting Pevensey
Castle, felt convinced he must have seen it
before, and that when he did there were
donkeys under the gateway, and some peo-
ple on top of it. On inquiry he ascertained
that he had been there with a picnic party,
who made the excursion on donkeys, when

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

691

he was only about eighteen months old.
Sometimes the whole history of a lifetime
will be flashed before the mind as in an in-
stantaneous picture. That this occurs some-
times when death, or peril of death, is im-
minent, is quite certain. It may be that
this occurs very frequently before actual
death ; but this we cannot know, as all the
uistances of which we have accounts are
those in which a man has described his sen-
sations after having been saved from dying
— especially from drowning. "When all
hope of being saved is gone," says the au-
thor, "and the very struggle with the water
is now made without conscious effort, it
would seem that, without being prompted
by the will, the memory suddenly grasps
at once the deeds of the life that now ap-
pears about to close, and at the same time
— and this is the most singular fact of the
phenomenon — recognizes the usual rectitude
or wrong of each act [?]. There is," he con-
tinues, '' a case of this kind recorded of an
English naval officer, who thus remembered
the events of his life at the moment when
he was struggling hopelessly in the wake
of the ship from which he had fallen ; and
he confessed that he had been especially
struck by the sudden coming into his
thoughts of a schoolboy lie that he had long
forgotten."

Economic Statistics of the World. — A

general review of the economic statistics
of the world in 1877 is published by Pro-
fessor Neumann Spallart, of Vienna ; from
it we take the following statements :

Railways. — In the last three decades
the network of European railways has risen
from 9,000 kilometres (5,580 miles) in 1847
to 154,200 kilometres' (95,604 miles) in
1877. Of these 154,200 kilometres 27,500
are in Great Britain and Ireland ; 24,800
in Austro-Hungary ; 23,400 in France ;
18,000 in Russia ; 30,000 in Germany. The
remainder is distributed among the smaller
states. According to these figures Europe
has 150 kilometres of railway for each thou-
sand square kilometres and 4-8 kilometres
per 10,000 inhabitants. These ratios are
exceeded in Belgium, Great Britain and Ire-
land, Switzerland, the Netherlands, etc.

I One kilometre is about { of a mile.

America. — In 1830 the United States
had 42 kilometres of railway ; now they
have 128,000 kilometres (79,360 miles), or
133 kilometres for every 1,000 square kilo-
metres of surface, and 28 kilometres per
10,000 inhabitants. In the remainder of
this continent there are 17,000 kilometres
of railway, of which Canada has 7,000.

In India and Ceylon there are 11,000
kilometres, or 46 kilometres per 1,000
square kilometres of area and ■J kilometre
per 10,000 inhabitants. In Africa there are
2,800 kilometres, whereof 1,800 belong to
Egypt. Australia and New Zealand pos-
sess 4,000 kilometres of railway.

On all these railways are employed 62,-
000 locomotive-engines, 112,000 passenger-
carriages, and 1,500,000 freight-cars; they
annually carry 1,150,000,000 passengers,
and 16,000,000,000 quarters of freight.

Marine. — The merchant marine of Eu-
rope embraces in all 7,400 ocean steam-
ships with a tonnage of 3,000,000 tons, of
which totals the United Kingdom contrib-
utes 5,200 steamships and over 2,000,000,-
000 tons of freight.

Telegraphs. — At the beginning of 1877
Europe had 351,000 kilometres of tele-
graph lines, whereof 65,000 belonged to
Russia, 54,000 to France, 48,000 to Ger-
many, 40,000 to the United Kingdom.
America had then 183,000 kilometres. The
dispatches sent over European lines num-
bered 82,000,000 in 1876 ; those sent over
American lines amounted to 23,000,000.
Asia and Australia have each 38,000 to
39,000 kilometres, transmitting 2,500,000
dispatches. In Africa there are only 15,-
000 kilometres, almost exclusively in Egypt,
Algiers, and Tunis, and the number of dis-
patches sent is 1,200,000. There are 560
submarine cables, representing a total length
of 65,000 nautical miles.

Postal Service. — The postal service now
extends to the uttermost bounds of civiliza-
tion, embracing the whole globe, from Ham-
mersfest to New Zealand.

In Europe over 3,000,000,000 letters and
postal-cards are carried yearly. In this to-
tal the United Kingdom is represented by
over 1,000,000,000; Germany by 700,000,-
000 ; France by 366,000,000 ; Austro-Hun-
gary by 300,000,000 ; Italy by 120,000,000.
This would give for England 33 letters per

692

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

head of the population ; for Switzerland,
24; Germany 15; France 10. Turkey fig-
ures for only 0"2 of a letter per capita. In
America the number of letters and postal-
cards carried was '700,000,000 ; in Asia,
150,000,000; in Australia, 50,000,000 ; in
Africa, 25,000,000.

Gas-Stoves and the Prodaets of Com-
bnstion. — City people are wont to express
their surprise at the stupidity of the coun-
tryman who extinguishes a gaslight by blow-
ing it out, and then sleeps in the same
room. Yet the same acute city people will
set up a gas cooking-stove, and will never
think of the necessity of carrying away the
products of combustion. Plainly, in view
of the prospective large employment of
carburetted hydrogen gas as a domestic
fuel, it behooves the sanitarian to empha-
size the necessity of proper regard for sani-
tary requirements. The public will have to
be instructed in the simplest elements of
science, and drilled to heed the plainest
teachings of every-day experience, or else
the general introduction of gas as a fuel
will at first occasion a fearful amount of
mortality. The observations of the editor
of the " Lancet," in a house in the " West
End " of London — the fashionable quarter
of that metropolis — might be repeated any
day in the " best quarter " of our American
cities. The editor of the " Lancet " visited
the kitchen of the house in question, having
been asked to give an opinion as to the
wholesomeness or otherwise of the cooking
arrangements. He found a gas hot-plate
with five circles of burners, each circle hav-
ing 12 or 15 jets, so that when the hot-plate
was fully heated 60 or 80 jets were in active
combustion. Each jet produced about two
cubic feet of carbonic acid per hour, a total
of 120 to 160 cubic feet, in addition to sul-
phurous acid. Xo chimney was provided for
the escape of the gas, and the very intelli-
gent inmates of the house could not under-
stand why the cook looked so pale and ill ;
as for the cook herself, though she often
felt " giddy and fit to fall upon the floor,"
she never suspected the gas-stove! Now,
since each of the gas-jets had an effect
equal to the respiration of one human being,
it is evident that the population of that
kitchen practically amounted at certain

times to sixty or eighty persons ; and the
exhalations from this " black hole " had no
way of escape except through the kitchen
door and into the house. This instance of
the stupidity of " intelligent " people is so
typical that it deserves to become " clas-
sic."

Effects of a Diet of Sliingle-Nails.— The

cows of a large dairy-farm in Hungary hav-
ing been all simultaneously seized with dis-
ease, the symptoms being high fever, diffi-
cult respiration, and inflation of the body,
it was determined to slaughter two of them
and to make an examination of the bodies.
The organs of the chest appeared perfectly
normal. On opening the stomach its con-
tents were found partly fluid and partly of
pappy consistence, and among this matter
were discovered a number of shingle-nails
of various lengths, some of them free, and
others partially imbedded in the walls of the
stomach. Renewed investigation cleared
up the mystery as to how these nails got
there. About a year before, a shed on the
estate caught fire, and the shingles of the
roof were torn ofl', nails and all, in the at-
tempt to put out the flames. In the winter
the damaged materials were burned in the
farm-buildings as fire-wood, the ashes sub-
sequently strewed upon a clover-field, and
the nails contained in the latter unfortu-
nately were raked up with the hay crop ob-
tained from it in the following summer.
Every cow upon the farm had to be slaugh-
tered, and in every case nails were found in
the second stomach.

The Electric Light as a Source of Nitric
Acid. — It is known that, when combustion
takes place at high temperatures, small
quantities of the nitrogen and oxygen of at-
mospheric air combine, forming several ox-
ides of nitrogen, many of which are strong,
corrosive acids. This is the case when
electric sparks are passed through air, also
during combustion in air of hydrogen. It
therefore appears probable that, as the tem-
perature of the electric arc is undoubtedly
very high, nitric acid, or some other oxide
of nitrogen, might be produced by the elec-
tric hght. This subject has been investi-
gated experimentally by Mr. T. Wills, with
results strongly confirmatory of this theo-

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

693

retical inference. Tlie first experiment was
rather surprising. A glass cylinder placed
over an electric lamp (Foucault's regulator)
for two minutes, and afterward examined,
was seen to contain a perceptible amount
of red fumes, due to peroxide of nitrogen
(N20i). The air surrounding the lamp
was next drawn through a solution of pot-
ash, and the amount of nitric acid esti-
mated; this gave ten to twelve grains of
nitric acid produced per hour (it may even-
tually prove to be more, the difficulty being
to collect the whole of it). The next step
in the research will be to examine the va-
rious forms of electric light, with a view to
determine the amount of nitric acid pro-
duced by each.

In an Ants' Nest. — The columns of the
Popular Miscellany from month to month
give evidence of the interest with which
naturalists study the ways of ants. Indeed,
the life-history of that interesting insect
seems to be full of surprises for the perse-
vering observer. Here is an account of a
nest of Formica nigra, in which a number
of Termites were kept as slaves. While
entomologizing in Portugal in 1877, in the
neighborhood of Cintra, Mr. Henry 0.
Forbes found a nest of F. nigra under a
stone. On turning the stone over, he ob-
served great consternation in the commu-
nity, evidently caused by the fear lest a
colony of Termes lucifugus, which the For-
micas had enslaved, should escape. The
Nigras instantly began seizing the Termites,
driving them underground by the nearest
orifices, in the mean time wrenching and
pulling off their wings. In the nest there
was also a large number of Termite larvae,
and the great object of the Nigras seemed
to be to get these underground as speedily
as possible. The ants fell on them with
fierce impetuosity, seizing them anyhow and
anywhere, dragging them against the most
strenuous opposition into the nearest aper-
tures of the underground home. Very often
this opposition resulted in a long and sav-
age fight, in which the larvas were badly
wounded, being deprived sometimes of their
antenna?, sometimes of half their jaws, and
not seldom killed outright. Occasionally,
however, the larvae were victorious, beating
off the Formicas. The observer saw at the

end of a long fight one larva drawn by
its antennae, while it strenuously held on to
a small ball of earth which had proved a
vain anchorage for its feet, for larva and
clod together were dragged for a long dis-
tance through the grass. At last it seized
one stalk so firmly that its enemy could not
drag it farther ; whereupon, after recon-
noitering the ground for a little distance,
the latter disappeared, but shortly returned
with a companion, by whose aid the larva
was detached. This done, the helper went
his way, while the abductor proceeded with
his captive till lost to view.

Pearls and their Origin. — People are
still to be found who believe in the myth
which ascribes to pearls a sort of animal
nature — being born of other pearls, feeding
like other animals, and growing larger by
the conversion of food into their own sub-
stance. A glass tube purporting to con-
tain some of these growing pearls and cer-
tain "grains of rice," on which they fed,
was lately sent from Australia to Mr. Frank
Buckland, who in turn placed it in the hands
of a competent conchologist, Mr. Hugh
Owen, for examination. Mr. Owen, honestly
desirous of dissipating the crass ignorance
which alone makes belief in such absurdi-
ties possible, takes the trouble to state
briefly, in "Land and Water," the natural
history of pearls, in substance as follows :
Pearls are concretions found either attached
to the interior of certain bivalve shells, or
enveloped in the folds of the mantle of the
animal that inhabits the shell ; the latter
are most valued. All pearls are formed
of the same substance as that lining the
inner surfaces of the shells in which they
are formed. The peculiar luster is caused
by alternate layers of thin membrane and
carbonate of lime, and depends on very
minute undulations of the layers. The
most valuable pearls are found in the soft
portions of the mollusca, and are believed
to be originally a grain of sand, or some
other irritating substance, which the ani-
mal covers with a nacreous deposit. That
this is the correct theory is seen on cut-
ting or slitting pearls, when each one is
found to have a foreign body as a nucleus.
Such being the natural history of pearls, the
story of " young pearls feeding on rice "

694

TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

should not be heard outside of the nursery.
It may be added that the " rice-grains " in
the collection presented to Mr. Buckland
are identified by Mr. Owen as marine shells
of the genus Cyprcea, the end or apex of
each being carefully filed or ground ofT to
represent the effect of having been fed on
by the pearls.

SuFYival of Serions Brain Injury in a
Pigeon. — A remarkable case of recovery of
all the faculties in a pigeon from which
four fifths of the upper portion of the cere-
brum had been removed, is recorded by Dr.
J. H. McQuillen, in the " Proceedings " of
the Academy of Natural Sciences of Phila-
delphia. The author, who is Professor of
Physiology in the Philadelphia Dental Col-
lege, on February 4th of last year, exposed
the cerebrum of a pigeon, and cut out four
fifths of the upper portion in slices : this he
did in illustrating to his class the fact that
the sensorium thus exposed could be cut
pinched, or burned, without any sign of
pain on the part of the animal. The usual
phenomena followed, viz., profound stupor,
the bird standing motionless on the table,
with eyes closed, head sunk between the
shoulders, and feathers rufiled. At the close
of the demonstration, this pigeon was given
to Professor Emily White, M. D., of the
"Women's Medical College, with the request
that an effort should be made to keep the
bird alive, and ascertain whether the mu-
tilated organ would regain its functions. In
March a note was received from Professor
"White, in which she stated that the pigeon
had apparently recovered all its faculties.
" He is," it was added, " perhaps less ex-
citable than normal, and seems perfectly
tame, but bright." Dr. McQuillen at once
sent for the bird, and observed with sur-
prise the complete recovery of the voluntary
movements of walking and flying, the power
of feeding itself and drinking as usual, and
the general manifestations of intelligence.
The bird continued in full possession of its
faculties for six months, and then was put
to death and an examination made. On re-
moving the scalp a fibrous structure, analo-
gous to pericranium, was found, occupying
the place from which the bone had been re-
moved in making the vivisection. Cutting
Ibis away, a small amount of fluid escaped.

and the cranial cavity thus exposed was
found occupied by a white substance re-
sembling the cerebral structure that had
been removed six months before. Placing
a section of the upper portion of this, which
had been stained with hematoxyline, under
the microscope, a number of bipolar cells
characteristic of the gray structure were
observed.

Pigments of the Hair.— By treating with
dilute sulphuric acid different kinds of hu-
man hair, Mr. H. C. Sorby obtains three
distinct pigments, a red, a yellow, and a
black. The red pigment is probably con-
vertible by oxidation into the yellow. Very
red hair is characterized by the presence
of the red constituent unmodified by any
other coloring substance ; golden hair has
less of the red and more of the yellow pig-
ment ; in sandy-brown hair the black and
red constituents are associated with a large
proportion of the yellow ; in dark-brown
hair the black pigment is present in larger
quantity, while in black hair this dark sub-
stance predominates over the rest. Singu-
larly enough, Mr. Sorby found in the hair
of a negro about the same proportion of
the red pigment as in the very red hair of
a European. If in this case the develop-
ment of the black pigment had been checked
by any cause, he would have presented the
curious spectacle of a red-headed negro.

Wallace's Theory of Zoological Deriva-
tion.— To illustrate Wallace's theory of the
derivation of all animals from the north, a
writer in " Nature " designed a map of the
world on a polar projection, the northern
hemisphere being projected somewhat be-
yond the southern tropic. This map clearly
shows how the land-surface of the globe is
built around the pole, and exhibits the ex-
tremities of America, Africa, and Australia,
extending into the great ocean. If, now, the
subdivisional regions (zoologically) of each
of these three great projections, and of the
whole, be marked in colors, a succession of
zoological strata (so to speak) appears. By
carrying an ideal section from the supposed
center of creation in the north through
either of these three great extremities, and
thence to the nearer and afterward the more
remote of their dependencies, we pass in

NOTES.

695

each case through zoological strata of dif-
ferent types, until we arrive at those where
no land mammals are to be found at all.
And this succession in space, as evidenced
by geography, corresponds in a rough way
with the succession in time as revealed by
geology : 1. As we recede in distance, we
meet with increased dissimilarity. 2. This dis-
similarity partakes of a recession in type.
3. Some of these geographical districts
seem to have their counterparts in geologi-
cal periods. The Ethiopian region, as Wal-
lace has shown, presents us with the exiled
Miocene fauna of Europe. Eocene forms
may be seen in its dependency of Madagas-
car. Highly isolated Australia, with its mar-
supials, etc., appears as if it were still in
the secondary age. Oceanic islands, such
as New Zealand, give no land mammals at
all. In others, the reptiles "possess the
land."

Antiqaity of the Practice of Inocniation.

— Inoculation as a means of mitigating the
severity of small-pox was practiced in East-
ern countries ages before its introduction
into the West by Lady Mary Wortley Mon-
tagu. The Chinese appear to have prac-
ticed it as early as the sixth century. Small-
pox is by the Chinese called " heaven's flow-
ers," and their term for inoculation is "culti-
vating heaven's flowers." Their mode of pro-
cedure is to pulverize the scabs taken from a
small-pox patient, and to blow the powder
thus obtained up the nostril of the child.
The powder is injected into the left nostril
in the case of a boy, and into the right in
the case of a girl. It is impossible to tell
whether the disease induced will be severe
or not. In some years there are few if any
deaths, at other times the mortality is much
the same as that from small-pox. A lucky
day is carefully chosen for the operation,
and at a time when the child is in good
health. No particular rules are observed
in selecting the matter, except that it is
always taken from a mild case of the dis-
ease. Gradually, however, vaccination is
coming into use in China. The suspicion
with which vaccination was formerly re-
garded by the people as a subtle device of
the foreigners to destroy the inhabitants of
the Central Flowery Kingdom is dying out,
and Dr. Osgood, of Foochow, who has every

opportunity of knowing, says that "vacci-
nation is gaining ground every year, and is
destined in time to drive out inoculation."
But the process of substitution must neces-
sarily be very slow in so strictly conserva-
tive a country as the Chinese Empire.

NOTES.

Amoxg the results of the labors of the
United States Fish Commission during the
year 1878 is to be reckoned the discovery
of fifty new species of fishes in our At-
lantic waters. These species are enumer-
ated by Messrs. G. Brown Goode and Tarle-
ton H. Bean, in the " American Journal of
Science." Full descriptions of the fishes,
with discussions of sundry questions of
classification, will appear in the publications
of the United States National Museum.

A NEW danger to health is found in the
use of artificial flowers colored with aniline
dyes. The bronze-green and other colors
now so much in vogue are not "fixed," and
the dye is apt to be transferred to the skin
of the head, producing much annoyance, un-
pleasant irritation, or even inflammation.

Professor Leidt, having examined with
the microscope a " black mildew " found
growing on brick walls in shaded situations,
found it to be a species of alga closely al-
lied to Protococcus viridis, which gives the
bright-green color to the trunks of trees,
fences, etc. The species which produces
the black discoloration may be only viridis
in a different state, but, until it is proved to
be such, he proposes to distinguish it by the
name of Protococcus lugubris. The latter con-
sists of minute round or oval cells, from 0'006
to 0.009 millimetre in diameter, isolated or
in pairs or in groups of four, the result of
division ; or it occurs in short irregular chains
of four or more cells up to a dozen, occasion-
ally with a lateral offset of two or more cells.
In mass, to the naked eye, the alga appears
as an intensely black powder.

In certain districts of Austria where
cretinism exists the skulls of the wretches
who have been afflicted with that disease
are disinterred a few years after death and
preserved by their nearest relatives. A like
custom prevailed in Peru in times prior to
the discovery of America, as we learn from
an article in " La Nature," on the Anthropo-
logical Exposition lately held in Paris. Two
crania were there exhibited, one of them
overlaid with gold and the other with sil-
ver. The evidences of cretinism in these
skulls are unmistakable, and there can be no
doubt that they were at one time objects
of pious care. The custom in Austria is to

696

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

write the name of the deceased cretin across
the forehead of the siiull, to paint a fillet
of leaves and flowers around the latter, and
to engrave on it different emblems, as cross-
es and the like.

When the committee of scientific men
who had been charged with the organization
of the Anthropological Exposition connected
with the Paris World's Fair called on M.
Krantz, the Director-General, to obtain his
approval of the plan, his reply was : "Gen-
tlemen, I must confess that I have never
heard anything but evil about you. This
has satisfied me that your work is of value ;
this has led me to infer that it is useful, and
has given me a bias in its favor."

To test the correctness of the statement
which has been made that the leather covers
of books in libraries are injured by the com-
bustion products of coal-gas, Professor Wol-
cott Gibbs has examined the books in dif-
ferent libraries, in some of which gas is
burned, in others not; and his conclusion
is that the effects supposed to be attributa-
ble to the burned gas are in reality due to
other causes. The trouble is more proba-
bly in the tanning of the leather than in the
action of the gas ; the older kinds of leather
used by binders being of poor quality and
badly tanned.

In 1871 a vessel laden with Italian mar-
ble was wrecked off Long Island. Speci-
mens of this marble, presenting certain very
interesting appearances, having been pre-
sented to the Peabody Museum of Yale
College, they are described in the " Ameri-
can Journal of Science " by Professor Ver-
rill. The exposed portions of the slabs
are, he says, thoroughly penetrated to the
depth of one or two inches by the crooked
and irregular borings or galleries of the
sponge Cliona sulphurca (V.), so as to re-
duce it to a complete honeycomb, readily
crumbled by the fingers. Beyond these
borings the marble is perfectly sound and
unaltered. Professor Verrill has long been
familiar with the fact that this sponge can
destroy the shells of oysters, mussels, etc.,
but this is the first instance he has noticed
of its attacking marble or limestone, for
calcareous rocks do not occur along the
portions of our coast inhabited by it. Its
ability to rapidly destroy such rocks might
have a practical bearing in case of subma-
rine structures of limestone or similar mate-
rial.

"Blasting gelatine," a new explosive
agent, is formed by dissolving collodion cot-
ton in nitro-glycerine in the proportion of
10 per cent, of the former to 90 per cent,
of the latter. The product is a gelatinous,
elastic, transparent, pale-yellow substance,
having the density of r6 and the consist-
ence of a stiflF jelly. "It is in itself," says

the "Engineering and Mining Journal,"
" much less easily affected than Kieselguhr
dynamite, but it may be made far more in-
sensible to mechanical impulse by an admix-
ture of 4 to 10 per cent, of camphor. Ex-
periments prove that the new explosive
possesses weight for weight 25 per cent.,
and bulk for bulk 40 per cent., more explo-
sive power than ordinary dynamite."

Professor Emerson Reynolds proposes
this simple test of the purity of water :
Put into a perfectly clean bottle of white
glass one half litre of water, and a piece of
loaf-sugar the size of a pea. Then set it
on a sheet of white paper in a window ex-
posed to the sun's rays for eight or ten
days. If the water is then turbid it con-
tains foreign substances, impurities, proba-
bly sewage.

The Marquis of Tweeddale (Hay), Fel-
low of the London Royal Society and Presi-
dent of the Zoological Society, who died
last December, at the age of fifty-five years,
was a distinguished ornithologist, being one
of the best authorities on the birds of India
and the Eastern Archipelago. He was a
voluminous contributor to the "Ibis," the
" Proceedings " and the " Transactions " of
the Zoological Society, the " Annals of Nat-
ural History," and other scientific periodi-
cals.

Sixty years ago a farmer in Monmouth
County, New Jersey, planted with locust-trees
several acres of untillable land ; the result
of that planting, as related in the " Garden-
er's Month]}-," is a good lesson in rural
economy. Years ago the trees first set out
were cut down, but the second growth
quickly covered the ground, and last year
this second growth was cut. This timber
was worked into farm-fence posts, garden-
fence posts, and fence-stakes, the whole
worth about $2,000 — the cost of cutting be-
ing offset by the fuel value of the tops which
were unfit for other uses. One grove thirty-
seven hundredths of an acre in area
yielded 1,400 "five-hole posts," 150 garden-
fence posts, and 200 fence-stakes : at this
rate the product of an acre would be about
$3,000.

James McNab, Curator of the Botanic
Garden at Edinburgh, died in November,
aged sixty-eight years. His predecessor in
the curatorship was his father, from whom
McNab received a thorough botanical train-
ing. Deceased was a frequent contributor
to horticultural and scientific periodicals.

Colonel P. W. Norris lately exhibited
at Detroit the head and antlers of a huge
animal Killed in the Yellowstone National
Park. The antlers are webbed, and the
animal to which they belong is believed to
have been a cross between the elk and the
moose.

SIR HUMPHRY DAVY.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

APRIL, 1879.

joh:n' stuakt mill

Br ALEXANDER BAIX, LL. D.,

PROFESSOR IN THE PNIVEESITY OF ABERDEEN.

I PROPOSE to review the life and character of John Stuart Mill.
In addition to what all the world may know, I am aided by per-
sonal recollections extending over the second half of his life, and by
documents in the possession of his family for some of the earlier por-
tions.

My plan requires me to recall the account given in the " Autobi-
ography " of the successive stages of his early education. There is a
sort of pause or break at his eighth year, when he began Latin, His
years from three to eight are occupied with Greek, English and arith-
metic ; the Greek, strange to say, taking precedence. His earliest
recollection of all, we are led to suppose, although not explicitly af-
firmed, is his committing to memory lists of Greek words written by
his father on cards. He had been told that he was then three years
old. Of course reading English, both printed and written, was sup-
posed : and we have to infer that he had no recollection of that first
start of all, which must have been taken before he completed his third
year. And, judging from the work gone through by his eighth year,
he can not be far wrong in putting down the date of the Greek com-
mencement.

A letter from his father to Bentham, dated July 25, 1809, affords
us a momentary glimpse of him at the age of three years and two
months. It was the occasion of the first visit to Bentham at Barrow
Green. The letter is an apology for not being able to come on the day
previously arranged, and is full of rather heavy joking about the do-
mestic obstructions. The passage to our present purpose is this :

TOL. XIT.-

698 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

" When I received your letter on Monday, John, who is so desirous to
be your inmate, was in the room, and observed me smiling [at Ben-
tham's fun] as I read it. This excited his curiosity to know what it
was about. I said it was Mr. Bentham asking us to go to Barrow Green.
He desii-ed to read that. I gave it to him to see what he would say,
when he began, as if reading — Why have you not come to Barrow
Green, and brought John with you ? " The letter closes — " John asks
if Monday (the day fixed) is not to-morrow." Not much is to be made
of this, except that the child's precocious intellect is equal to a bit of
waggery. The remark may seem natural, that if he were then learning
his Greek cards he might actually have read the letter; but no one that
ever saw Bentham's handwriting would make that remark. As I take
it, the interest of the scene lies in disclosing a sunny moment in the
habitually stern relationship of the father and son.

As an introduction to the next contemporary landmark of his prog-
ress, I need to quote from himself the account of his earliest reading.
He says nothing of English books till he has first given a long string
of Greek authors — ^sop's Fables, the Anabasis, Cyropajdia, and Memo-
rabilia of Xenophon, Herodotus, some of Diogenes Laertius, part of
Lucian, two speeches of Isocrates ; all these seem to have been gone
through before his eighth year. His English reading he does not con-
nect with his Greek, but brings up at another stage of his narrative.
From 1810 to 1813 (age, four to seven) the family had their residence
in Newington Green, and his father took him out in morning walks in
the lanes toward Hornsey, and in those walks he gave his father an ac-
count of his reading ; the books cited being now histories in English —
Robertson, Hume, Gibbon, Watson's Philip the Second and Third (his
greatest favorite), Hooke's Histoiy of Rome (his favorite after Wat-
son), Rollin in English, Langhorne's Plutarch, Burnet's Own Time, the
history in the Annual Register ; he goes on, after a remark or two, to
add Millar on the English Government, Mosheim, McCrie's Knox, a
quantity of voyages and travels — Anson, Cook, etc. ; Robinson Crusoe,
Arabian Nights, Don Quixote, Miss Edgeworth's Tales, and Brooke's
Fool of Quality. I repeat that all this was within the same four years
as the Greek list above enumerated. At a later stage, he speaks of his
fondness for writing histories ; he successively composed a Roman His-
tory from Hooke, an abridgment of the Universal History, a History of
Holland, and (in his eleventh and twelfth years) a History of the Ro-
man Government. All these, he says, he destroyed. It happens, how-
ever, that a lady friend of the family copied and preserved the first of
these essays, the Roman History ; upon the copy is marked his age, six
and a half years, which would be near the termination of the two for-
midable courses of reading now summarized. The sketch is very short,
equal to between two and three of the present printed pages, and gives
but a few scraps of the earlier traditions. If it is wonderful for the
writer's age, it also shows that his enormous reading had as yet done

JOHN STUART MILL. 699

little for him. He can make short sentences neatly enough ; he gives
the heads of the history, in the shape of the succession of kings and
consuls ; and, in imitation of his author, he supplies erudite and criti-
cal notes.*

It was about the age when he wrote this history that he was invited
to an interview with Lady Spencer (wife of Lord Spencer, then at the
head of the Admiralty), her curiosity being roused by the accounts of
him. His conversation on the occasion turned chiefly on the person-
ages of Roman history, whose characters he fluently hit off".

My next document is a letter, in his own hand, dated September
13, 1814. He was now eight years and four months. He was in the
second stage of his studies, when he had begun Latin, and had extended
his reading in Greek to the poets, commencing with the Iliad. He was
also teaching his sister, two years younger than himself. The event
that gave rise to the letter was the migration of the whole family to
Bentham's newly acquired residence. Ford Abbey, in Somersetshire.
I will give a part and abridge the rest. His correspondent was some
intimate friend of the family unknown.

I have arrived at Ford Abbey without any accident, and am now safely
settled there. We are all in good health, except that I have been ill of slight
fever for several days, but am now perfectly recovered.

It is thne to give you a desciuption of the abbey. There is a little hall and
a long cloister, which are reckoned very fine architecture, from the door, and
likewise two beautiful rooms, a dining-parlor and a breakfast-parlor adorned
with fine drawings within one door; on another side is a large hall, adorned
with a gilt ceiling ; and beyond it two other rooms, a dining and drawing room,
of which the former contains various kinds of musical instruments, and the
other is hung with beautiful tapestry.

To this house there are many staircases. The first of them has little re-
markable up it, but that three rooms are hung with tapestry, of which one con-
tains a velvet bed, and is therefore called the velvet room. The looking-glass
belonging to this room is decorated with nun's lace.

Up another staircase is a large saloon, hung with admirable tapestry, as
also a small library. From this saloon issues a long range of rooms, of which
one is fitted up in the Chinese style, and another is hung with silk. There is a
little further on a room, which, it is said, was once a nursery ; though the old
farmer Glyde, who lives hard by, called out his sons to hear the novelty of a

' The beginning runs thus (heading " First Alban Government : Roman Conquest in
Italy) : " We know not any part," says Dionysius of Halicarnassus, " of the history of Rome
till the Sicilian invasions. Before that time the country had not been entered by any
foreign invader. After the expulsion of Sicilians, Iberian (?) kings reigned for several
years ; but in the time of Latinus, Jilneas, son of Venus and Anchises, came to Italy, and
established a kingdom there called Albania. He then succeeded Latinus in the govern-
ment, and engaged in the wars of Italy. The Rutuii, a people living near the sea, and
extending along the Numicius up to Lavluium, opposed him. However, Turnus their
king was defeated and killed by JEneas. ^neas was killed soon after this. The war
continued to be carried on chiefly against the Rutuii, to the time of Romulus, the first
king of Rome. By him it was that Rome was built."

700 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

child crying in the abbey! which had not happened for the whole time he had
lived here, being near tliirty years. Down a staircase from here is a long range
of bedrooms, generally called the Monks' Walk. From it is a staircase leading
into the cloisters. The rest of the house is not worth mentioning. If I was to
mention the whole it would tire you exceedingly, as this house is in reality so
large that the eight rooms on one floor of the wing which we inhabit, which
make not one quarter of even that floor of the whole house, are as many as all
the rooms in your house, and considerably larger.

I have been to the parish church which is at Thornecomb. Mr. Hume has
been here a great whUe. Mr. Koe came the other day, and Admiral Ohietekoff
is expected. Willie and I have had rides in Mr. Hume's curricle.

He goes on to say — " What has been omitted here will be found in
a journal which I am writing of this and last year's journeys." He
then incontinently plunges again into descriptive particulars about the
fish-ponds, the river Axe, the deer-parks, the walks, and Bentham's im-
provements. The performance is not a favorable specimen of his com-
position ; the handwriting is very scratchy, and barely shows what it
became a few years later. The reference to Joseph Hume's visit has
to be connected with the passage at arms between the elder Mill and
Benthara, which I had formerly occasion to notice (" Mind," viii., pp.
525, 526).

By far the most important record of Mill's early 3'ears is his diary
during part of his visit to France, in his fifteenth year; and from this
I hope to illustrate with some precision the real character of his acqui-
sitions and his intellectual power at that age. A very valuable intro-
duction to this diary was lately brought to light by Mr. Roebuck, who
had fortunately preserved a letter of Mill's that he had received from
Jeremy Bentham's amanuensis in 1827. It was addressed to Bentham's
brother, Sir Samuel Bentham, and it is dated July 30, 1819, his age be-
ing thirteen years and two months. The letter begins thus :

My Dear Sir : It is so long since I had the pleasure of seeing you that I
have almost forgotten when it was, but I believe it was in the year 1814, the
first year we were at Ford Abbey. I am very much obliged to you for your in-
quiries with respect to my progress in my studies; and as nearly as I can re-
member, I will endeavor to give an account of them from that year.

He then goes on to detail his reading for the successive years from
1814. I do not print the details, but will compare them with the " Au-
tobiography," and indicate agreements and differences. In the year
1814 (by the letter), he read, in Greek, Thucydides and Anacreon (an
odd coupling), and, he believed^ the Electra of Sophocles, the Phoenissge
of Euripides, the Plutus and the Clouds of Aristophanes, and the Philip-
pics of Demosthenes ; in Latin, only the Oration of Cicero for Archias,
and part of the pleading against Verres. In Mathematics, he was read-
ing Euclid ; he began Euler's Algebra, and worked at Bonnycastle ;
also some of West's Geometry. In 1815, his reading was Homer's

JOHN STUART MILL. 701

Odyssey, Theocritus, some of Pindar, tlie Orations of ^schines and
Demosthenes on the Crown. In Latin : first six books of Ovid's Meta-
morphoses, first five books of Livy, the Bucolics and the first six books
of the ^^neid of Virgil, and part of Cicero de Oratione. In IMathemat-
ics : finished the six books of Euclid together with the Eleventh and
Twelfth, and the Geometry of West ; studied Simpson's Conic Sections,
and West's Conic Sections, Numeration and Spherics ; and, in Algebra,
Hessy's Algebra and Newton's Universal Arithmetic, in which last he
performed all the problems without the book, and most of them without
any help from the book.

1816. Greek : part of Polybius, Xenophon's Hellenics, the Ajax
and Philoctetes of Sophocles, the Medea of Euripides, the Frogs of
Aristophanes, and great part of the Anthologia Grgeca. Latin : all
Horace, except the Epodes. Mathematics: Stewart's Propositiones
Geometricse, Playfair's Trigonometry at the end of his Euclid, " Geom-
etry " in the Edinburgh Encyclopaedia, and Simpson's Algebra.

1817. Greek: Thucydides (the second time), many Orations of
Demosthenes, all Aristotle's Rhetoric, of which he made a synoptical
table. Latin : Lucretius, all but the last book, Cicero, Ad Atticum,
Topica, and De Partitione Oratoria. Mathematics : " Conic Sections "
in EncyclopEedia Britannica ; Simpson's Fluxions, Keill's Astronomy,
and Robinson's Mechanical Philosophy.

1818. Greek : more of Demosthenes ; four first books of Aristotle's
Oro-anon, tabulated in the manner of the Rhetoric. Latin : all Tacitus
(except the Dialogue on Oratory), great part of Juvenal, beginning of
Quintilian. Mathematics : Emerson's Optics, Trigonometry by Pro-
fessor Wallace, solution of problems, beginning of article on Fluxions
in the Edinburgh Encyclopsedia. Began to learn Logic, read several
Latin treatises — Smith, Brerewood, Du Trieu, part of Burgersdicius,
Hobbes.

1819 (the year when the letter was written). Greek : Plato's Gor-
gias, Protagoras, and Republic. Latin : Quintilian, in course of read-
ing. Mathematics : Fluxions, problems in Simpson's Select Exercises.
Also, he is now learning Political Economy.

While this enumeration is much fuller than that in the " Autobiogra-
phy," it omits mention of several works there given : as Sallust, Ter-
ence, Dionysiiis, and Polybius. The private English reading is in both :
chiefly Mitford's Greece, Hooke and Ferguson's Rome, and the Ancient
Universal History. His composing Roman Historj'-, as well as Poetry
and a Tragedy, is given in both. The Higher Mathematics of this pe-
riod is but slightly given in the " Autobiographj'."

This letter was doubtless intended not merely to satisfy Sir Sam-
uel's curiosity as to his precocity of acquirement, but also to pave the
way for the invitation to accompany him to France the following year
(1820).

A carefully written diary, extending over the first five months of

702 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

his stay in France, is by far the most satisfactory record that is now to
be had of his youthful studies.^

We have his reading and all his other occupations recorded day by
day, together with occasional reflections and discussions that attest his
thinking power at that age. The diary was regularly transmitted to
his father. At first he writes in English ; but, as one of the purposes
of his visiting France was to learn the language, he soon changes to
French. Printed in full it would be nearly as long as this article. I
shall endeavor -to select some of the more illustrative details.

He left London on May 15, 1830, five days before completing
his fourteenth year. He traveled in company with Mr. Ensor, an Irish
gentleman, a friend of his father's. The diary recounts all the incidents
of the journey — the coach to Dover, the passage across, the thirty-
three hours in the diligence to Paris. He goes first to a hotel, but, on
presenting an introduction by his father to M. Say, he is invited to the
house of that distinguished political economist. The family of the
Says — an eldest son, Horace Say, a daughter at home, the youngest
son, Alfred, at school en pension, but coming home on Saturday and
Sunday, and their mother — devote themselves to taking him about
Paris. He gives his father an account of all the sights, but without
much criticism. His moral indignation bursts forth in his account of
the Palais Royal, an " immense building belonging to the profligate
Due d'Orleans, who, having ruined himself with debauchery, resolved
to let the arcades of his palace to various tradesmen." The Sunday
after his arrival (May 21) is so hot that he did not go out, but played
at battledore and shuttlecock with Alfred Say. He delivers various
messages from his father and Bentham, and contracts new acquaint-
ances, from whom he receives further attentions. The most notable
was the Count Berthollet, to whom he took a paper from Bentham.
Madame Berthollet showed him her very beautiful garden, and desired
him to call on his return ; he learned afterward that he was to meet
Laplace. On the 27th, after nine days' stay in Paris, he bids good-by
to Mr. Ensor and the Says, and proceeds on his way to join the Ben-
tham family, then at a chateau belonging to the Marquis de Pompi-

' Sir Samuel Bentham, the brother of Jeremy Bentham, was himself a remarkable
man. His first service was in the Russian Army, where his soldiering was intermingled
with suggestions for improvements of all sorts, and especially mechanical inventions, for
which he had a pronounced genius. One of his proposals to the Russian government
was the Panopticon prison, of which he was the originator. He came over to England
in 1*795, and received from our Government the appointment of Superintendent of the
Dockyard at Portsmouth, where his talent for invention had scope in the improvement of
the navy. He married the daughter of an early friend of his brother. Dr. John Fordyce,
a physician in London, called by Bentham "one of the coldest of the cold Scotch " ; this
lady had the domestic supervision of Mill for more than a year. On retiring from the
Dockyard, Sir Samuel bought an estate in the South of France for the sake of a residence
there ; and this led to his inviting Mill to reside with him, first at Toulouse, and after-
ward at Montpellier. The family consisted of one son, Mr. George Bentham, the well-
known botanist, and three daughters — all older than Mill.

JOHN STUART MILL. 703

gnan, a few miles from Toulouse. The journey occupies four days, and
is not without incident. He makes a blunder in choosing the cabrio-
let of the diligence, and finds himself in low company. At Orleans, a
butcher, with the largest belly he had ever seen, came in and kept inces-
santly smoking. On the third day he is at Limoges, and breakfasts in
company with a good-natured gentleman from the interior ; but his own
company does not much improve ; the butcher leaves, but a very dirty
jille^ with an eruption in her face, keeps up his annoyance. The fol-
lowing day a vacancy occurs in the interior, and he claims it as the
passenger of longest standing ; a lady contests it with him, and it has
to be referred to the maire ; the retiring passenger, a young avocat,
pleading his case. He is now in good company, and his account of the
•successive localities is minute and cheerful.

He arrives at his destination at 2 A. M., the 2d of June, is received
by Mr, George Bentham, and meets the family at breakfast. They take
hun out for a walk, and he does no work that day, but begins a letter
to his father. Next day he makes an excursion to Toulouse, spends
the night there, and gives up a second day to sight-seeing ; there was
a great religious procession that day. He makes the acquaintance of a
Dr. Russell, resident at Toulouse, with whose family he afterward asso-
ciates. The following day, the 5th, he sees the Marquis and Madame
de Pompignan, the proprietors of the chateau. On the 6th, he com-
mences work ; and now begins our information as to his mode of allo-
cating his time to study. The entry for this day merely sets forth tha'j
he got up early ; went into the library ; read some of Lucia n (who is
his chief Greek reading for the weeks to follow) ; also some of Millot,
by Mr. George's advice ; " learned a French fable by rote " — the begin-
ning of his practice in French. 7th. "Learned a very long fable;
wrote over again, with many improvements, my Dialogue, part L"
This dialogue frequently comes up, but without further explanation.
We must take it as one of his exercises in original composition, per-
haps in imitation of the Platonic Dialogues. 8th. Engaged with Mr.
G. in arranging the books of the library, which seems to have been set
as a task to the boys. " Wrote some of dialogue ; learned a very long
fable by heart ; resolved some problems of West (Algebra) ; did French
exercises (translating and so forth)." 9th. " Breakfasted early and
went with Sir S. and Lady Bentham in the carriage to Montauban ; took
a volume of Racine in my pocket, and read two plays ; " remark his
reading pace. On returning home he reads a comedy of Voltaire.
10th, " Before breakfast, learned another fable, and read some of Vir-
gil. After breakfast, wrote some of my Dialogue, and some French
exercises. Wrought some of the Differential Calculus. Read a tragedy
of Corneille." 11th. " Learned another fable ; finished my Dialogue.
If good for nothing beside, it is good as an exercise to my reasoning
powers, as well as to my invention, both which it has tried extremely."
We may be sure that it aimed at something very high. "Wrote some

704 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

French exercises; began to learn an extremely long fable. Read a
comedy of Moliere, and after dinner a tragedy of Voltaire. Took a short
walk by myself out of the pleasure grounds." 12th. " Rose very early.
Sir S. B. and Mr. G. went in the carriage to Toulouse. Before break-
fast, I wrote some French exercises, read some of Lucian's Hermotimus.
Revised part of my Dialogue. After breakfast went with the ' domes-
tique ' Fiertot to see his Metairie and his little piece of land and help
him to gather cherries. After returning I finished the long fable."
Then follows an apology for not working at his mathematics ; Sir Sam-
uel's books are not unpacked, and in the library of the house he finds
chiefly French literature, and hence his readings in Racine, etc. An-
other tragedy read to-day. i3th. Before breakfast assists Mr. G. in
packing. Wrote French exercises, read Voltaire and Moliere. It is by
the advice of the family that he reads plays, for the sake of dialogue.
After dinner, he takes a long walk on the hills behind Pompignan ; on
his return falls in with the Garde Champetre, who communicates all
about himself and his district. Weather now hot. 14th. Could not
get into the library. V/alked about the grounds with iSlv. G. and one
of his sisters ; came in and wrote French exercises. Begins a new
study — to master the Departments of France. Reads Lucian. 15th.
Got up early ; began his Livre Statistique of the Departments — chief
towns, rivers, populations, etc. Learns by heart the names of the de-
partments and their capital towns. Acting on a suggestion of Lady
B., he reads and takes notes of some parts of the Code Napoleon.
Meets the Russell family at dinner, and walks with them. 16th. Up
early, walked out, reads a tragedy of Voltaire. A mad dog has bitten
several persons. More of Code Napoleon ; Virgil ; French exercises.
Here he concludes what is to make his first letter to his father, and
appends to the diary a dissertation on the state of French politics; the
then exciting topic being the Law of Elections. We are surprised at
the quantity of information he has already got together, partly we may
suppose from conversations, and partly from newspapers ; but he never
once mentions reading a newspaper ; and his opportunities of conver-
sation are very much restricted by incessant studies. Besides passing
politics, illustrated by anecdotes, he has inquired into education, the
statistics of population, and the details of the provincial government.

I continue the extracts from the Diary. June 17th. Late in bed,
not knowing the time. One of Sir Samuel's daughters has given him
Legendre's Geometry, to which he applies himself, at first, for the sake
of French mathematical terms. Performs an investigation in the Dif-
ferential Calculus. A short walk. After dinner, a tragedy of Cor-
neille. 18th. Rose early. Wrote French exercises, and read Voltaire.
It is a fete day (Sunday), and the peasants danced in the pleasure
grounds before the house. After breakfast, finished exercises, then
walked with the family in the grounds. Received from Mr. G. a lec-
ture on Botany (probably the beginning of what became his favorite

JOHN STUART MILL. 705

recreation). Wrote out the account of his expenditure since leaving
Paris, gives the items, amounting to one hundred and forty-eight francs.
Describes the peasants' dance. 19th. Rose early. Finished the Hcr-
motimus of Lucian, and yesterday's tragedy ; wrote French exercises.
After breakfast, assisted in packing up, as the family are leaving the
chateau for a residence in Toulouse. Finds time before dinner for
another tragedy of Voltaire. In the evening, took to an article in the
Annales de Chimie (his interest in Chemistiy being now of four years'
standing). 20fch. Occupied principally with preparations for leaving.
21st. The house in confusion. Still he does a good stroke of French
reading. 22d. In bed till after nine ; could not account for it. The
confusion is worse confounded ; doesn't know what to do about his
books ; is now debarred from the library. Has taken out his exercise-
book from his trunk, and written a considerable portion of exercises.
Has added to his Livre Statistique ; the Departments are now fully in
his head : next topic the course of the Rivers — an occupation when he
has nothing else to do. 23d. Rose at three o'clock, to finish packing
for departure. As there could be no reading, at five he takes a long
country walk to Fronton ; gives two pages of the diary to a description
of the country and the agriculture. Books being all locked up, he ex-
pects to feel ennui for a little time. Writes some of his Livre, con-
verses with two intelligent workmen, gives particulars. After dinner,

walks to the villao-e of on the Garonne, describes the river itself

in the neighborhood. In the evening, being the " VeiUe de St. Jean,"
saw the fires lighted up in the district. 24th. Lay in bed purposely
late, having nothing to do. M. Le Comte (son of the proprietor) comes
in, and politely oifers him the key of the library, shows him a book of
prints ; he also scores a tragedy of Voltaire. As this is the last day
before moving to Toulouse, he makes a pause, and dispatches his seven
days' diary to his father, accompanied with a short letter in French to
R, Doane, Bentham's amanuensis, chiefly personal and gossipy ; none
of his letters to Mr. Doane take up matters of thought. 25th. Rose at
half past two for tlie journey. He walks out on foot, to be overtaken
by a char-a-banc, with part of the family. One of the girls drove part
of the way, and gave him the reins for the remainder, as a lesson in
driving. They take up their quarters in one of the streets, where they
have a very good " Apartment " (I suppose a flat); still, after the chateau,
they feel considerably cramped ; his room a little hole, which he pro-
ceeds at once to arrange, having got shelves for his books. Same night
finishes Lucian's B(wv lipaaig, and reads some of Thomson's Chemistry,
which is part of his own library'.

The family remains in Toulouse for some time. We have his diary
for nearly six weeks. It is the intention of the Benthams to find him,
not merely a French master, but instruction in various accomplishments
— music, dancing, fencing, horsemanship. It is some time before the
arrangements are made, so that his first days are purely devoted to

7o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

book studies ; and the diary is an exact record of the nature, amount,
and duration of his reading, very nearly as at home. It also gives oc-
casional glimpses of his thinking power at the age he has now reached.
It is further interesting as exhibiting his tone toward his father. I
will merely quote enough to complete the illustration of these various
particulars.

26th. Besides a mass of French reading, reports two eclogues of
Virgil and the Alectryon of Lucian. Remarks that having so much
French to do, he cannot read Latin and Greek and study Mathematics
every day, and means to .give one day to Mathematics and one to Latin
and Greek- 27th. Rose early. Begins the practice of going every
morning to bathe in the Garonne, a little above the town : he is accom-
panied regularly by Mr. George, and on this occasion by Dr. Russell's
boys. To-day reads Legendre's Geometry. Gives a subtile criticism
of the author's method, which he thinks excellent ; praises the deriva-
tion of the Axioms from the Definitions, as conforming to Hobbes's doc-
trine that the science is founded on Definitions. Approves also of the
way the more elementary theorems are deduced. Learned a very long
French fable. Solved a problem in West's Algebra that had baffled
him for several years. Mr. George has already engaged for him the
best dancing-master in the place. 28th. (Classical day.) Bathing as
usual. Two eclogues of Virgil, and a French grammatical treatise on
Pronouns. Read some more of Legendre (resolution broken through
already) : thinks his line of deduction better than Euclid, or even than
West. Studies Bentham's Chrestomathic Tables (a vast and minute
scheme of the divisions of knowledge). Began the Vocalium Judicium
of Lucian, Goes for a second dancing-lesson. 29th. Rather late in
returning from the river. An eclogue of Virgil ; finishes the Vocalium
Judicium ; wrote French exercises, read some of Boileau's little pieces ;
is to have Voltaire's works soon ; asks Mr. George about a Praxis in
the higher Mathematics, having performed over and over again all the
problems in Lacroix's Differential Calculus. Resolves more problems
of West, including the second of two that had long puzzled him.
After dinner began Lucian's Cataplus. 30th. Two eclogues of Virgil ;
finished Cataplus ; more of Legendre, discovered a flaw in one of his
demonstrations ; wrote French exercises ; read some of Sanderson's
Logic; also some of Thomson's Chemistry. July 1. Treatise on Pro-
nouns finished ; Sanderson ; began Lucian's Necyomantia ; French exer-
cises ; finished first book of Legendre ; Thomson's Chemistry. Dancing-
lesson. A singing-master engaged. 2d. Georgics of Virgil, ninety-nine
lines ; more of the Necyomantia before breakfast. After breakfast,
Thomson's Chemistry. Wrote Livre Geographique. In the evening
the whole family go to Franconi's Circus ; describes the exploits. Has
to be measured for a new suit, French fashion ; his English suit being
inadmissible, trousers too short, waistcoat too long. The Russells call
in the evening, and there is an earnest talk on politics, English and

JOHN^ STUART MILL. 707

French, which he details. 3d. A breakdown in the char-a-banc that
takes them to the river. Has now got a singing-master, and takes
first lesson in Solfeges et Principes de 3ftisique. Again at Franco-
ni's, and full of the performance ; for a wonder, no studies recorded.
4th. Rose at five ; home from bathing, etc., at half past seven. Has ob-
tained Voltaire's Essai sur les Moeurs, which he includes among his
stated reading : breakfast at quarter to nine : at half past nine, begins
Voltaire where he left off in England, read six chapters in two hours ;
Virgil's Georgics, forty-seven lines ; at quarter past twelve began a
treatise on French Adverbs ; at half past one began the second book of
Legendre, read the definitions and five propositions ; miscellaneous em-
ployments till three, then took second Music-lesson. Dined; family
again to Franconi's, but he could not give up his dancing-lesson ; this
got, he writes French exercises and practices music. 5th. Rose at five ;
too rainy for bathing. Five chapters of Voltaire ; from half past seven
till half past eight Mr. G. corrects his French exercises which had got
into arrears as regards correction ; Music-master came ; at half past
nine began new exercises (French) ; puts his room in order; at quarter
past eleven took out Lucian and finished Necyomantia ; five proposi-
tions of Legendre, renewed expressions of his superiority to all other
geometers ; practiced Music-lessons ; Thomson's Chemistry, made out
various Chemical tables, the drift not explained ; at quarter past three,
tried several propositions in West, and made out two that he had for-
merly failed in ; began a table of fifty-eight rivers in France, to show
what departments each passes through, and the chief towns on their
banks ; four, dined ; finishes Chemical table ; dancing-lesson ; supped.
Reports that a distinguished music-mistress is engaged at whose house
he is to have instrumental practice. 6th. Rose at six ; no bathing ;
five chapters of Voltaire ; a quarter of an hour to West's Problems ;
lesson in Music (Principes) ; problems resumed ; breakfasted, and tried
problem again till quarter past ten ; French exercises till eleven ; began
to correct his Dialogue, formerly mentioned, till quarter past twelve ;
summoned to dress for going out to call ; has found a French master ;
at quarter past one returned and corrected Dialogue till quarter past
three ; Thomson till four (dinner), resumed till six ; Mr. G. corrects his
French exercises; went out for his French lesson, but the master did
not teach on Sundays and Thursdays ; back to Thomson till eight ;
repeated fables to Mr. G., miscellaneous affairs ; supped ; journal al-
ways written just before going to bed. 7th. Rose forty-five minutes
past five ; five chapters Voltaire till seven ; till quarter past seven, forty-
six lines of Virgil ; till eight, Lucian's Jupiter Confutatus ; goes on a
family errand ; Music-lesson till nine (Principes) ; Lucian continued
till half past nine, and finished after breakfast at quarter past ten ; a
call required him to dress ; read Thomson and made tables till quarter
past twelve ; seven propositions of Legendre ; has him over the coals,
for his confusion in regard to ratio " takes away a good deal of my opin-

7o8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ion of the merit of the work as an elementary work " : till half past
one, wrote exercises and various miscellanies ; till half past two the
treatise on Adverbs ; till forty-five minutes past three, Thomson ; Livre
Geographique and miscellanies till five ; eats a little dinner, being- un-
certain, owing to a family event ; goes for first lesson to music-mistress,
a lady reduced by the Revolution, and living by her musical talents ;
henceforth to practice at her house daily from eleven to twelve, and
take a lesson in the evening; dined on return, then dancing-lesson.
9th. Rose at five ; five chapters Voltaire ; forty-five minutes past six,
Adverbs; forty-five minutes past seven, the Prometheus of Lucian ;
half past eight till nine, first lesson of Solfeges together with Principes ;
continued Prometheus till breakfast ; miscellaneous occupation till the
hour of music-lesson at Madame Boulet's ; home at half past twelve,
ten propositions of Legendre ; " if anything could palliate the fault I
have noticed of introducing the ratio and the measures of angles before
the right place, it is the facility which this method gives to the demon-
stration of the subsequent propositions ; this, however, can not excuse
such a palpable logical error, etc." JMr, G. is to procure Cagnioli's Tri-
gonometry, but a Praxis in the higher Mathematics is not yet forthcom-
ing. 10th. Starts at four with Mr. G. arid the Rtissells on a day's
excursion to the forest of Bouconne, three leagues from Toulouse, the
object being to collect plants and insects. Makes his coup cVessai
at catching butterflies, got only about ten worth keeping ; the adven-
tures of the day fully given. 11th. Yesterday's fatigue keeps him in
bed late ; one chapter of Voltaire ; at half past seven, with Mr. G,,
to begin with his French master, who hears his pronunciation, and
sets him plenty of work. Taken with a party to the house of an astro-
ngmer, M. Daubuisson, and shown his instruments ; then to the house
of his brother, a great mineralogist. Returns at two to commence the
formidable course of lessons set by the French master. Goes successive-
ly to his music-master and music-mistress. Introduces a remark as
to the great kindness of the family in constantly, without ill-humor, ex-
plaining to him the defects in his way of conducting himself in society :
" I ought to be very thankful." 12th. Hears from his father that Lady
B. has written a good account of him. Replies in full to the mat-
ters in his father's letter; is glad to hear of his article on Government
and promises on his return to read it with great attention. Indicates
that in future his French lessons will very much engross his time. He
is to take the first opportunity of sending the Dialogue, on which he
has taken great pains both with expression and with reasoning. Apolo-
gises for giving more time to Mathematics than to Latin and Greek.

A fencing-master is now provided for him, and in two days more a
riding-master, so that we may have seen him at his best as regards book
studies. He keeps these up a few hours every day, but the largest part
of the day is taken up with his other exercises. The only thing de-
serving mention now is the occasional notice of new subjects. Thus,

JOHN STUART MILL. yog

he begins a treatise on Value, and Sir S. B. is to get Say's book for
him. His French master seems to prescribe, among other things, trans-
lating from Latin into French, and he takes up the speech of CatiHne
in Sallust, and afterward some Odes of Horace, There is another day's
excursion to the forest of Ramelle, with many incidents. He soon re-
ports having read the last of Lucian, and gives a short review of him,
accompanied with high admiration ; Hermotimus he considers a master-
piece of ingenious reasoning. In a letter to his mother he adverts to
his progress in music and dancing; he advises his two elder sisters to
remit their music till he returns, as he discovers now that they were on
a wrong plan. Writes a letter in Latin to those two sisters, correct
enough but not very high composition. Begins a Dialogue at the sug-
gestion of Lady B., on the question — whether great landed estates and
great establishments in commerce or manufactures, or small ones, are
most conducive to the general happiness ; in the circumstances, rather
venturesome. The following day began, also by Lady B.'s advice, to
write on the Definition of Political Economy. Very much elated by
" excellent news of the revolution in Italy." Attends three lectures on
modern Greek, and gives his father an account of the departures from
the ancient Greek, In the beginning of August the lessons are at an
end, the family going for a tour in the Pyrenees, What remains of the
diary is occupied with this tour, its incidents and descriptions, and is
written in French.

I must, however, advert to an interesting letter from Lady Benthani
to his father, dated September 14th. It refers to a previous letter of
hers giving particulars of John's progress in French and other branches
of acquirement. The family is to reside in Montpellier, and the purpose
of the present letter is to recommend to his father to allow him to spend
the winter there, and to attend the public lectures of the college. Mr.
Bernard, a distinguished chemist, who had visited the Benthams at
Toulouse, had taken an interest in him, and sounded his depths and de-
ficiencies, and gives the same opinion. As the party has now been
boxed up together for some weeks, his habits and peculiarities had
been more closely attended to than ever, and (I quote the words) " we
have been considerably successful in getting the better of his inactivity
of mind and body when left to himself." This probably refers to his
ennui when deprived of books ; it being apparent that, much as was his
interest in scenery, he could not as yet subsist upon that alone. The
letter goes on — " Upon all occasioQS his gentleness under reproof and
thankfulness for correction are remarkable ; and, as it is by reason sup-
ported by examples we point out to him that we endeavor to convince
him, not by command that we induce him to do so and so, we trust
that you will have satisfaction from that part of his education we are
giving him to fit him for commerce with the world at large." Lady
Bentham does not omit to add that he must also dress well.

The remainder of the diary serves mainly to show his growing taste

j\o

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

for scenery and his powers of description. He depicts climate, produc-
tions, villages, the habits of the people, as well as the views that were
encountered. The party make the ascent of Le Pic du Midi de Bigorre,
and he is in raptures with the prospect. " Mais jamais je n'oublierai
la vue du cote meridionale." In short, to describe its magnificence
would need a volume !

We may now conceive with some degree of precision the intellectual
caliber of this marvelous boy. In the first place we learn the number
of hours that he could devote to study each day. From two to three
hours before breakfast, about five hours between breakfast and dinner,
and two or three in the evening, make up a working day of nine hours
clear ; and while at Toulouse scarcely any portion of his reading could
be called recreative. His lightest literature was in French, and was in-
tended as practice in the language. Probably at home his reading-day
may have often been longer ; it would scarcely ever be shorter. For a
scholar in mature years eight or nine hours' reading would not be ex-
traordinary ; but then there is no longer the same tasking of the mem-
ory. Mill's power of application all through his early years was without
doubt amazing; and, although he suffered from it in premature ill-health,
it was a foretaste of what he could do throughout his whole life. It
attested a combination of cerebral activity and constitutional vigor
that is as rare as genius ; his younger brothers succumbed under a far
less severe discipline.

That the application was excessive, I for one will affirm without
any hesitation. That his health suffered we have ample evidence, which
I shall afterward produce. That his mental progress might have been
as great with a smaller strain on his powers, I am strongly inclined to
believe, although the proof is not so easy. We must look a little closer
at the facts.

I can not help thinking that the rapid and unbroken transitions
from one study to another must have been unfavorable to a due impres-
sion on the memory. He lost not a moment in passing from subject to
subject in his reading : he hurried home from his music-lesson or fenc-
ing-lesson to his books. Now, we know well enough that the nervous
currents, when strongly aroused in any direction, tend to persist for
some time : in the case of learning anything, this persistence will count
in stamping the impression ; and part of the effect of a lesson must be
lost in hurrying without a moment's break to something new, even al-
though the change of subject was of the nature of relief. By his own
account, his lessons at Toulouse, with the exception of French and mu-
* sic, took no effect upon him. Nor is this the worst feature of Mill's
programme. According to our present notions of physical and mental
training, he ought to have had a decided break in the afternoon. Con-
sidering that he was at work from about six in the morning, with only
half an hour for breakfast, he should clearly have had, between one and
two, a cessation of several hours, extending over dinner ; especially as

JOHN STUART MILL. 711

he gave up the evening to his hardest subjects. Of course this interval
should have been devoted to out-of-doors recreation. It is quite true
that both father and son were alive to the necessity of walking, and
practiced it even to excess ; in fact, counted too much upon it as a
means of renewing the forces of the braiu : their walks were merely a
part of their working-day— a hearing and giving of lessons.

What with his own recital in the " Autobiography " and the minuter
details in the letter to Sir S. Bentham, and the diary, we have a com-
plete account of his reading and study in every form. The amount is,
of course, stupendous for a child. The choice and the sequence of
books and subjects suggest various reflections. His beginning Greek
at so early an age was no doubt due to his father's strong predilec-
tion for the language. What we wonder at most is the order of his
reading. Before his eighth year, he had read not merely the easier
writers, but six dialogues of Plato (the Thesetetus he admits he did not
understand). He was only eight when he first read Thucydides, as
well as a number of plays. At nine he read parts of Demosthenes ; at
eleven he read Thucydides the second time. What his reading of
Thacydides could be at eight, we may dimly imagine : it could be
nothing but an exercise in the Greek language ; and the same re-
mark must be applicable to the great mass of his early reading both
in Greek and Latin. At Toulouse we find him still reading Virgil,
of although five years before he had read the Bucolics and six books
the -^neid. Moreover, at Toulouse, his Greek reading was Lucian,
a very easy writer whom he had begun before he was eight ; the
noticeable fact being that he is now taking an interest in the writer's
thoughts and able to criticise him. It is apparent enough that his
vast early reading was too rapid, and as a consequence superficial. It
is noticeable how rare is his avowal of interest in the subjects of the
classical books ; Lucian is an exception ; Quintilian is another. He
was set by his father to make an analysis of Aristotle's Rhetoric and
Organon, and doubtless his mind was cast for Logic from the first. His
inaptitude for the matter of the Greek and Latin poets is unambiguously
shown ; he read Homer in Greek, but his interest was awakened only by
Pope's translation. His readings in the English poets for the most
part made no impression upon him whatever. He had a boyish delight
in action, battles, heroism, and energy ; and, seeing that whatever he
felt, he felt intensely, his devotion to that kind of literature was very
ardent. But whether from early habits, or from native peculiarity, he
had all his life an extraordinary power of rereading books. His first
reading merely skimmed the subject ; if a book pleased him, and he
wished to study it, he read it two or three times, not after an interval,
but immediately. I can not but think that in this practice there is a
waste of power.

It was impossible for his father to test the adequacy of his study of
Greek and Latin works, except in select cases ; and hence it must have

712 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

been very slovenly. In Mathematics, he had little or no assistance, but
in it there are self-acting tests. His readings in Physical Science were
also untutored : unless at Montpellier, he never had any masters, and
hisknowledge never came to maturity.

If I were to compare him in his fifteenth year with the most intel-
lectual youth that I have ever known, or heard or read about, I would
say that his attainments on the whole are not unparalleled, although, I
admit, very rare. His classical knowledge, such as it was, could easily
be forced upon a clever youth at that age. The Mathematics could not
be so easily commanded. The best mathematicians have seldom been
capable of beginning Euclid at eight or nine,* and even granting that
in this, as in other subjects, he made small way at first, yet the Toulouse
diary shows us what he could do at fourteen ; and I should be curious
to know whether Herschel, De Morgan, or Airy could have done as
much. I have little doubt that, with forcino-, these men would all have
equaled him in his Classics and Mathematics combined. The one thing,
in my judgment, where Mill was most markedly in advance of his years,
was Logic. It was not merely that he had read treatises on the Formal
Logic, as well as Hobbes's " Computatio sive Logica," but that he was
able to chop Logic with his father in regard to the foundations and de-
monstrations of Geometry. I have never known a similar case of pre-
cocity. \Ye must remember, however, that while his father pretended
to teach him everything, yet, in point of fact, there were a few things
that he could and did teach eflFectually : one of these was Logic ; the
others were Political Economy, Historical Philosophy and Politics, all
which were eminently his own subjects. On these John was a truly
precocious youth ; his innate aptitudes, which must have been great,
received the utmost stimulation that it Avas possible to apply. His
father put enormous stress upon Logic, even in the scholastic garb ; but
he was himself far more of a logician than the writers of any of the
manuals. In that war against vague, ambiguous, flimsy, unanalyzed
words and phrases, carried on alike by Bentham and by himself, in the
wide domains of Politics and Ethics, he put forth a faculty not impart-
ed by the scholastic Logic ; and in this higher training the son was
early and persistently indoctrinated. To this were added other parts of
logical discipline which may also be called unwritten : as for example,
the weighing and balancing of arguments pro and con in every question ;
the looking out for snares and fallacies of a much wider compass than
those set down in the common manuals. (See the beginning of the
"Bentham" article for Mill's delineation of Bentham's "Logic")

He returned to England in July, 1821, after a stay of fourteen months.
He sufficiently describes the fruits of his stay in France, which includ-
ed a familiar knowledge of the French language, and acquaintance with

' Locke knew a young gentleman who could demonstrate several propositions in Euclid
before he was thirteen.

JOHN STUART MILL.

713

ordinary French literature. If we may judge from what he says after-
ward, his acquaintance with the literature was strictly ordinary y he
knew nothing of the French Revolution, and it was at a much later
period that he studied French authors for the improvement of his
style.

He had still nearly two years before entering on official life ; and he
tells us how these were occupied. His father had become acquainted
with John Austin, who assisted him in Roman Law, his destination be-
ing the bar. He also got deep into Bentham for the first time, and began
Psychology. He now read the history of the French Revolution. An
undated letter to his fatlier probably belongs to this period. He was
on a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Austin at Norwich. The letter begins with
a short account of his studies. He read Blackstone (with Mr. Austin)
three or four hours daily and a portion of Bentham's " Introduction " (I
suppose the Morals and Legislation) in the evening. Among other
things, " I have found time to write the defense of Pericles in answer
to the accusation which you have with you. I have also found some
time to practice the delivery of the accusation, according to your direc-
tions." Then follows an account of a visit of ten days with the Austins
to the town of Yarmouth, with a description of the place itself. The
larger part of the letter is on the politics of Norwich, where " the Cause "
(Liberal) prospers ill, being still worse at Yarmouth. He has seen of
Radicals many ; of clear-headed men not one. The best is Sir Thomas
Beever, whom he wishes to be induced to come to London and see his
father and Mr. Grote. At Falmouth he had dined with Radical Palmer,
who had opened the borough to the Whigs ; not much better than a
mere Radical. " I have been much entertained by a sermon of Mr. Madge,
admirable as against Calvinists and Catholics, but the weakness of
which as against anybody else I think he himself must have felt." The
concluding paragraph of the letter should have been a postscript :

I wish I had nothing else to tell you, but I must inform you that I have
lost my watch. It was lost while I was out of doors, but it is iinpossible that
it should have been stolen from my pocket. It must therefore be my own fault.
The loss itself (though I am conscious that I must remain without a watch tiU I
can buy one for myself) is to me not great — much less so than my carelessness
deserves. It must however vex you — and deservedly, from the bad sign which
it affords of me.

On his return from France, he resumed energetically the task of
home teaching; making a great improvement in the lot of his pupils,
who were exclusively under their father's care in the interval ; for while
he scolded them freely for their stupidity and backwardness, he took
pains to explain their lessons, which their father never did. He was
kept at this work ever after. I remember on one occasion hearing from
Mrs. Grote that she had turned up an old letter from James Mill, in an-
swer to an invitation to John to accompany Mr. Grote and her on a

VOL. XIT. — 46

714 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

vacation tour ; the reply was that he could not be spared from the work
of teaching the younger children.

The " Autobiography " gives a full account of his acquaintances
among the young men resident at Cambridge, who afterward came to
London, including, besides Charles Austin, who was the means of intro-
ducing him, Macaulay, Hyde and Charles Villiers, Strutt (Lord Belper),
Romilly, etc. There is no mention of his having gone to Cambridge
in 1822, on a visit to Charles Austin. The contrast of his boyish fig-
ure, and thin voice, with his immense conversational power, left a deep
impression on the undergraduates of the time, notwithstanding their
being familiar with Macaulay and Austin.

I alluded, in my last article on James Mill, to the persistent attempts
of Professor Townshend, of Cambridge, to get John entered there. Here
are two sentences from a letter dated March 29, 1823, two months before
he entered the India House : " I again entreat you to permit me to
write to the tutor at Trinity to enter your son's name at that noble
college. Whatever you may wish his eventual destiny ±o be, his pros-
perity in life can not be retarded, but must on the contrary be increased
by making an acquaintance at an English University with his Patrician
contemporaries." Whether it would have been possible to induce his
father to send him to Cambridge, I very much doubt. I suspect that,
of the two, the son would have been the more intractable on the matter
of subscription to the Articles. Ten years later, it was an open question
in the house whether his brother Henry should be sent to Cambridge.

♦»»

THE INTRA-MEKCUKIAL PLANETS.*

By CAMILLE FLAMMAEION.

A GOOD deal of noise was made a few months ago about a dis-
covery that an American astronomer believed he had made during
the recent solar eclipse of July 29, 1878. At the moment of totality,
while the bright disk of the sun was completely hidden by the black disk
of the moon, and after the eye had become habituated to this sudden
darkness, the American astronomer made a search to find whether there
might not be, in the vicinity of the sun, a planet answering to the the-
oretical planet Vulcan, whose existence was announced by Leverrier
after he had mathematically analyzed the motion of Mercury. As every
one knows, during total eclipses of the sun, our atmosphere being no
longer illumined, night comes on as though at the bidding of an en-
chanter, and the brighter stars make their appearance in the heavens.
It is this sudden metamorphosis of nature that most forcibly impresses

* Translated from " La Nature " by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

THE INTRA-MERCURIAL PLANETS. 715

primitive races ; it was this which, on the occasion of the earliest eclipse
recorded in history — the eclipse of Thales — put a stop to the famous
war of the Medes and the Persians, by sending the chill of mortal ter-
ror into the hearts of the warriors as they were on the point of engag-
ing' in battle ; this it was which, at the last eclipse, led a negro, sud-
denly frenzied and convinced that a deluge was about to be sent down
by an angered Deity, to strangle his own wife and children ; finally, it
is this same feature of the solar eclipse which makes the deepest im-
pression on the mind of the astronomer who has made all his prepara-
tions for observation, but is so full of emotion in view of the grandeur
of the spectacle, that he can only with difficulty analyze with his wonted
coolness, and during the few minutes of total darkness, the details of
the phenomenon.

The American astronomer Professor Watson, the discoverer of a
great number of small planets, has declared that his one thought during
the recent eclipse was to look for the intra-Mercurial planet. In an-
nouncing this observation to the Academy of Sciences, the Director of
the Paris Observatory, M. Mouchez, expressed himself thus :

The accomplished astronomer of Ann Arbor has seen a heavenly body of the
fourth magnitude, situated two degrees distant from the sun, and whose position
was: right ascension, S*"- 26'°-; declination north, 18° 0'.

The star nearest to this position is Theta Cancri (S*"- 24"'- and 18° 30'), and it
is of the fifth magnitude. This diflference of magnitude and of position justifies
us in supposing that in all probability it was the planet Vulcan which was again
seen by Mr. Watson. The Academy can not but receive with great pleasure this
observation, which is only a new tribute to the scientific glory of Leverrier.
M. Gaillot has calculated an orbit and an ephemeris. The time of revolution is
only twenty-four days. The planet is at its greatest distance from the sun to-
day (August 5th) ; to-morrow it will be at thirty-eight minutes of time. This
distance is great enough to allow of our observing it, if not at Paris, at least at
other more favored localities.

Watson's own account of the observation is as follows :

At the recent total eclipse of the sun I was occupied exclusively in a search
for any intra-Mercurial planet which might be visible. For this purpose I em-
ployed an excellent four-inch refractor, by Alvan Clark & Sons, mounted equa-
torially with a magnifying power of forty-five. There were no circles originally
attached to the instrument, and accordingly I placed on it circles of hard wood,
the declination circle being five inches and the hour circle four and three quarter
inches in diameter. On these I pasted circles of cardboard, and pointers were
provided so that I could mark with a sharp pencil the position corresponding to
any particular pointing of the instrument. This method does not compare in
accuracy with graduated circles and veniers, but it has the advantage, and a very
important one in the present case, of avoiding the uncertainty which might be
attributed to erroneous readings of the circles. To read the divided circles
would require considerable time, while the pointings can be marked on the
paper disks in a few moments. And, besides, while a doubt might be raised as
to the correctness of the recorded circle readings, no such doubt can exist in
reference to the positions marked on these paper circles. The chronometer

7i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

times corresponding to each pointing were recorded, and the designation of the
object observed was also marked on the paper disks, so that there is no ditSculty
in identifying the several marks.

He then goes on to give the particulars of his sweeps over the re-
gions east and west of the sun, which were without result till, at last —

Between the sun and e Cancri ... I came across a star estimated at the
time to be of four and a half magnitude, which shone with a ruddy light and
certainly had a larger disk than the spurious disk of a star. The focus of the
eye-piece had been carefully adjusted beforehand and securely clamped, and the
definition was excellent. I proceeded, therefore, to mark its position on the
paper circles, and to record the time of observation. It was designated by a.
The place of the sun had been recorded a few minutes previously, and marked Su
Placing my eye again at the telescope, I assured myself that it had not been dis-
turbed, and proceeded with the search. I noticed particularly that the object
in question did not present any elongation such as would be probable were it a
comet in that position.

This body he holds to be Leverrier's intra-Mercurial planet. Its place
is given as follows : 8^- 26"- 24^- ; declination 18° 16'. It will be seen
that this position differs from that given above, the declination being
here 18° 16', instead of 18° 0'.

On August 23d the observer added a new^ correction : " In conse-
quence of having employed an inexact value for the correction of the
chronometer, an error has crept into the results. The true position is
this : right ascension, S*"- 27'°- 35^ ; declination, 18° 16'."

Here we have a fresh difference in the first figure. The result is,
first, that the orbit calculated immediately upon receipt of the telegram
was made too hastily and on an insufficient basis.

According to the American observer, the definitive differences be-
tween the planet and the sun were : in right ascension, 8"- 21"- ; in dec-
lination, 0° 22'. But in this same letter of August 23d he announces
that he observed another star, also of the fourth magnitude, which pre-
sented the following differences from the sun : in right ascension, 27"'
18"-; in declination. 0° 35'. "Whence results for this second star the
position : right ascension, 8'"' S"' 38'' ; declination, 18° 3'.

A fourth datum sent to the London Royal Astronomical Society
again corrects these positions as follows :

gh. 27m. 24- 4. 18° 16'
gh. 9m. 24- + 18° 3'

We will remind our readers that the right ascension of a star is its
distance east or west from the first point of Aries, measured along the
celestial equator, and its declination is its distance above or below that
equator. They are the longitudes and latitudes of the heavens, corre-
sponding to those of earth, and they serve to determine the positions
of stars as earth longitudes and latitudes serve to fix in geography the
exact positions of cities.

THE INTRA-MERCURIAL PLANETS. 717

And now comes another American astronomer, Mr. Swift, who also
announces that during the same total eclipse he observed simultaneous-
ly in the field of his telescope two stars, of which the one was Theta
Cancri, and the other a planet shining with the luster of a star of the
fifth magnitude, and whose position he estimates approximately to be,
right ascension ^ 26"" 40% declination + 18° 30' 35", a position very
near to that of the star seen and determined by Mr. Watson.

The eclipse of July 29th last, one of the most remarkable of the
present century for the duration of totality, was observed all along the
zone of centrality (which passed across North America), by a great
number of able astronomers, both American and English. Nearly all of
these searched for a new star in the neighborhood of the sun, but, with
the exception of the two named above, all declare that they saw no-
thing beyond the stars rendered momentarily visible by the obscuration
of the sun's light.

Are we thence to conclude that the testimony of these two observers
must be rejected ? By no means. But between this and the conclusion
that the two stars signalized by Watson are in fact two planets travel-
ing between Mercury and the sun, is a long way. Of these two stars,
the second, it is supposed, can not be the star Zeta Cancri, whose position
is S'^- ff- 12^ and 18° 2'.

The difference of three minutes is no doubt very great, but when
we take account of the haste of observation, and the doubt expressed
by the observer himself with regard to its exactness and the possible
derangement of his telescope by the action of the wind, this star must
not be dismissed without seeing whether or not it will explain the ob-
servations. Now, supposing an error of three minutes more or less, the
position of the first star becomes S*"- 24°^ and 18° 16', and this is very
nearly the position of the star Theta Cancri.

All that is needed to show how probable is this explanation is to
take up a celestial atlas and to locate the sun at the point where it was
at the moment of the eclipse, i. e., in front of Delta Cancri (which was
visible through the aureolar corona of the eclipsed sun, at its eastern
margin).

We have reproduced in the figure the aspect of the heavens during
totality.

1 is Mercury, 5 is Procyon,

2 is Regulus, 6 is Pollux,

3 is Mars, 7 is Castor,

4 is the sun in eclipse, 8 is Venus.

In the immediate vicinity of the sun we have inserted at the points
«, 5, c, the three stars Delta, Theta, and Zeta Cancri. In our opinion
the two stars h and c are the ones which might have been taken for
two planets by the American observers. No doubt this hypothesis is a
rather bold one, but then the hastiness, the difficulty, and the vagueness
of the observation justify it.

7i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Mr. Watson did not announce his observation of the second star till
three weeks after the eclipse, and after he had revised in detail the con-
ditions of his observation. Here is proof that this star had made a less
impression on him than the first. But now the first is between the
fourth and fifth magnitudes, and the second only between the fifth and
the sixth.

In any case, we can not but hold that the positions given are highly
doubtful and can not be seriously assumed as a basis for calculating
orbits, as has been done at the observatory.

Mr. Swift writes, " I have no doubt that one of the two stars was
Theta Caneri, and the other the intra-Mercurial planet."

But if one of the two stars seen by Professor Watson is Theta
Caneri, the other, whose difference from the former is, according to him,
IS"- 57'- more to the west, and 13' more to the south, comes exceedingly
near to Zeta Caneri, whose difference from Theta is 19"^ 25'- also to the
west, and 30' also to the south. If this star were a planet it would
not have been possible to see it without at the same time seeing Zeta,
which would have been quite near ; but of Zeta our American astrono-
mers do not speak.

Mr. Swift, however, answers this objection by saying that he saw
simultaneously Theta and the planet, and states the difference between
them as follows :

Eight ascension. Declination.
Star Theta, 8"- 24-"- 40'- + 18° 30' 20"
Planet, 8"- 26"'- 40'- + 18° 30' 25"

THE INTRA-MERCURIAL PLANETS. 719

The two stars appeared red to him, shining at three degrees south-
west of the sun, and presenting large disks of the fifth magnitude. He
adds that he saw no other star, not even Delta, and that the distance
between them was from 7' to 8' of arc. (" Nature," September 19, 1878.)

The two stars seen by Swift, then, are not the same two seen by
Watson. The matter is a good deal confused.

Further, in observing the star Zeta Cancri, two stars could have
been seen, instead of one, for Zeta is a double star. It is, indeed, a
triple star, but a high power is required to see it triple, whereas a
moderate power easily shows it double. But, inasmuch as only very low
powers were employed, it is probable that no new cause of perplexity
exists here.

To sum up : While it is possible that the American observers saw
an intra-Mercurial planet, or even two, we can not, in view of the
special difficulties of the situation, the confusion of the figures, and the
negative observations of the other observers, concede it to be an abso-
lute and incontestable fact that they saw even so much as one. The fact
is not yet certain.

We would remark that no variable star is known to exist at that
part of the heaven. Might it not be a comet ? It did not present the
characteristics of a comet.

Whatever the upshot may be, this discussion goes to show that in
astronomy nothing is accepted without being first verified, and that this
science is becoming more and more worthy of its reputation of being
the exactest and the most absolute form of human knowledge.

This strange vicinage of the sun is unfortunate indeed in the annals
of astronomy. Time and again have observers supposed that they
saw planets passing before the sun ; and, out of all the observations
which have been made, there is not one which definitively settles the
question.

The penultimate astronomical observation announced as appertaining
to an intra-Mercurial planet was that of the German astronomer Weber,
which was presented to Leverrier by Wolf, of Zurich, as having been
made April 4, 1876, at Peckeloh. " A small, well-rounded disk of 13' of
arc appeared suddenly during a partial clearness of the sky (eclaircie),
which was turned to account for observing the sun. It was impossible
to pursue the observation, owing to clouds.'* Wolf calculated that this
observation accorded with two prior observations made in 1859 and in
1820, and fixed the period of the planet at forty-two days. Leverrier,
too, seemed disposed to accept this observation, which gave occasion for
a new memoir by the illustrious French astronomer, in which he brought
together and compared all the observations of this kind. The stir
which this made in the scientific periodicals is still remembered. But
yet the little black disk observed by Weber was not a planet at all, but
merely a sun-spot, round and without penumbra. It had been observed
five hours earlier at the Observatory of Madrid and at the Observatory

720 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of Greenwich, and it was easy to prove that it was nothing but a simple
sun-spot.

The fact that the spot was not to be seen the next day seemed to
confirm the planetary hypothesis ; but it was not sufficient, since there
are ephemeral sun-spots, too. Nor is the roundness of the spot a dis-
tinctive character either. The proper movement then remains. Here we
must note a circumstance which oftentimes must have caused illusions.
When we observe the sun with a telescope not equatorially mounted,
and whose support has not the two motions, vertical and azimuthal,
as is commonly the case, the position of a sun-spot, by reason of the
diurnal motion, is ever changing with relation to the vertical diameter
of the disk. Even when an observer has had large experience, it is
difficult for him to guard against the belief that the spot has changed
its position on the disk.

This observation, then, had to be disallowed. But there remained
others which were not to be discredited on the same grounds, and
Leverrier, taking them to be more trustworthy, used them in calculating
the orbit of the hypothetical planet. Different interpretations gave him
five different orbits, with periods varying between twenty-four and fifty-
one days. But he seems to have preferred that which gives a period
of thirty-three days, and announced that on March 22, 1877, the planet
in question might pass before the sun. Astronomers all over the world,
with one accord, observed the sun on that day, to descry the transit, but
the result was nil. No black point was to be seen.

Among the prior observations Leverrier accepts five as certain,
viz. : Fritsche's, in 1802 ; Stark's, in 1819 ; Cuppis's, in 1839 ; Side-
botham's, in 1849 ; Lescarbault's, in 1859 ; Lumnis's, in 1862. One of
the best is no doubt that of Dr. Lescarbault, a country doctor, with a
passion for astronomy, and who had vowed to the study of the heavens
the time which was not spent in alleviating the wretchedness of earth.

This amateur astronomer, while observing the sun on March 26,
1859, from his humble house at Orgeres, discovered on its radiant disk
a round, very black spot, which he was able to study for over an hour,
and the proper motion of which he thus determined, no doubt tak-
ing account of the causes of error to which we have alluded. It was
during this same year that Leverrier perceived the necessity of in-
creasing by 38" the secular movement of Mercurj's perihelion, and
offered the hypothesis that a planet nearer to the sun than Mercury
would account for the difference. Thus the observation made by my
old and learned friend came as though on purpose to confirm the
theor}', just as earlier the telescopic discovery of Neptune had come to
confirm so brilliantly the theoretical discovery of that distant planet.

"VVellnigh twenty years have passed since 1859, and yet a fact
which one might have supposed would be speedily confirmed, owing to
the rapidity of the planet's revolution, and its no doubt frequent tran-
sits across the sun — this fact has received no confirmation. Yet search

DIETETIC CURIOSITIES. 721

has been made for it throughout the whole region on both sides of the
sun, if perchance it might be seen at the periods of its greatest distance.
Perhaps not a day has passed for the last twenty years, but that the
sun has been examined at one point or another of the globe, observed
with the greatest care, sketched in all its details, even directly photo-
graphed.

The hypothesis of a single body comparable to Mercury, gravitating
in close proximity to the sun, and on a plane probably little inclined to
the solar equator, seems to us to be so open to objections as to be unten-
able. Still, the mathematical theory of universal attraction proves that
there is a cause for the retardation observed in the motion of Mercury,
and that this cause can not be found by augmenting the mass of Venus
— a quantity now determined with great exactitude — but must be sought
for in some disturbing mass between Mercury and the sun. But this
mass may not be a planet worthy of the name of planet ; it may consist
of a great number of asteroids like the minute fragments which gravi-
tate between Mars and Jupiter — asteroids so small that oftentimes they
escape the notice of observers of the sun and of eclipses, though some of
them may be large enough to be seen under certain rare conditions.
This latter theory is the one which we adopt.

DIETETIC CUKIOSITIES.

By FELIX L. OSWALD, Ph.D., M. D.

I.

MAN is what he eats " (Der Meusch ist was er isst) is a German
proverb, the propriety of which may be chiefly alliterative,
though the apothegm of our greatest English physician goes even fur-
ther: "If we could solve the problem of diet," Dr. Radcliff'e tells us,
"it would almost amount to the rediscovery of paradise. Wrong eat-
ing and drinking, and the breathing of vitiated air (which is gaseous
food), these form the triple fountain-head of nearly all our diseases
and our misery."

Even a great doctor is fallible, especially on his hobby, but it is not
easy to deny the importance of a subject which can assert itself by such
dire argumenta ad hominem as dyspepsia, congestive chills, and other
penalties that follow swifter now than in old times on any violation of
the physical laws of God. Love of health or fear of sickness (which
diflfer as ancient from modern civilization) has always made the ques-
tion of diet one of primary interest ; yet there is certainly none about
which doctors disagree more widely. It is amusing to compare the dif-
ferent food-theories which have been cherished like plans of salvation

722 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

since the fighting of un-nature first became a science. If contradictory
tenets imply error, we surely are further from unitary truth here than
anywhere except in the Babel of speculative theology ; and even there
only dogmatic assertion, but not inconsistenc}', could ever go further.
Just compare the gospel of Pythagoras with that of Dr. Brown, the
Berwick prophet. Abstinence from wine — alcoholic stimulants, we
would say at present — and from all animal food is the keystone of the
Pythagorean system, which also denounced the shedding of blood, and
recommended the use of "food which needs no cooking" — fruit, nuts,
honey, milk, and the like. But John H. Brown, M. D., divides all pos-
sible states of health into the " sthenic and asthenic conditions," the
first to be toned down by bleeding, cathartics, etc., the second to be
rallied by a liberal use of brandy and strong meats, which in more mod-
erate quantities are to constitute our normal food, while all raw vege-
table products are to be avoided, especially "acid and subacid fruit."

Is there a greater antagonism in all the toto-coelo distance from Odin
to Mother Ann Lee ? If either was right, the other must have been
portentously wrong ; yet the school of Berwick, not less than that of
Samos, counted its disciples by tens of thousands. Again, is there an
hygienic tenet which seems more incontrovertible to us than the pro-
priety of the three daily meals ? Yet the Romans of the ante-Csesarean
era, who as physical beings were so strangely superior to us, restricted
themselves to a single meal in the twenty-four hours, for which they
chose the very time when we dread repletion most — the end of the day,
the hour between sunset and darkness.

Moses transmits from the lips of Jehovah his by-laws against pork
and rabbit-flesh, and we know how many of his followers preferred
death to the obnoxious diet, but our Saxon forefathers exalted the pigs'
feet of Valhalla as the supreme reward of heroic virtue, and, dying, the
Baresark could grin through his tortures at the thought of celestial
spareribs. Charlemagne, when informed that his life depended on a
change of regime, declared that if he could purchase immortality by
absenting himself from the customary tri-weekly barbecues, he would
think the price too high. He may have doubted the efficacy of the
sacrifice, but the Mingrelian ambassadors, after receiving Abu-Hassan's
stern ultimatum, " Islam or the sword ! " informed him that, however
willing they might be to propitiate the wrath of Allah, the national as-
sembly preferred war and pork to peace without it.

Thales considered water as the summum bonum, and many of his
teachings seem to anticipate the hydropathic school and our temper-
ance dogmas ; but Paracelsus proclaimed to the world that he had found
the true panacea and the elixir of life by the discovery of alcohol, and
seems to have been only too successful in his propaganda. " He finds
believers who himself believes " ; and Paracelsus certainly proved per-
sonal confidence in his doctrine by swallowing (in the city of Salzburg,
1541), as the "grand quintessence of life," a five-pint bottle of alcohol,

DIETETIC CURIOSITIES. 723

which it had taken him two months to distill. The funeral was very
impressive, as the Salzburg chronicle thinks it necessary to observe.
We know that our North American Indians are purely carnivorous, and
persistently neglect all opportunities of enlarging their menu ; also,
that white men who voluntarily or otherwise shared their fortune and
potluck for a few years, refused to rejoin Caucasia afterward. Similar
stories were told in ancient Greece of the Lotophagi (lotus-eaters), a
people of peculiar habits, who boasted that any stranger living among
them for a little while would rather resign kinsmen and country than
leave them again, only with this difference : the magnetism and the
name of the Lotophagi were derived from their diet of lotus-leaves —
they were strict vegetarians.

With every allowance for a possible diversity of constitutions, ge-
neric differences, and the modifying influence of climate, the subject still
presents enigmas which almost force upon us the conclusion so fiercely
rejected by Jean Jacques Rousseau, that nature and habit are inter-
changeable terms. Two hundred million Hindoos abstain from the use
of animal food, by behest of Vishnu, as they say ; by necessity of cli-
mate, as we explain it. But the inhabitants of Southern Africa, in de-
fiance of Vishnu and climate, gorge themselves with meat as often as
they can procure it, and with perfect impunity, it seems.

" Meat," says Professor von Liebig, " is preeminently the muscle-
forming food ; hence the difference between the stout Briton and the
lean Spaniard, the delicate Hindoo and the robust Ethiopian." But the
Lesghian mountaineers and the box-carriers of Constantinople, though
not vegetarians by principle, subsist chiefly on fruit and farinaceous
food, and it so happens that every other man of them can shoulder a
load that would task the combined strength of the stout Briton and ro-
bust Ethiopian. The powerful arms and the ponderous, leonine bear-
ing of the occasional Turks who visit the fairs of Vienna and Buda-
Pesth are a fine practical argument in favor of temperate habits ; yet
their rivals in strength, the iron-fisted Bauern of Upper Austria and the
Bavarian highlands, are notorious for their abject worship of beer.

But, for all that, it would be wrong to abandon the hope of redis-
covering paradise by Dr. Radcliffe's road. Whatever may be the right
way, we can not afford to swerve from it, least of all consciously, and
that we are astray at present is most distressingly probable. Dr. Boer-
haave reminds us that there are certain maxims of health, so clearly
pointed out by a priori reasoning^ that we can not be too cautious in
the acceptance of contradictory evidence.

" For instance, the exceptional cases of robust health in conjunction
with habits denounced as injurious by all analogy ought to make us in-
quire how this impunity is earned ; which strong protector of health
could overcome such an enemy. For there is such a thing as vicarious
atonement in physiology. Athletic sports, fatiguing rides on horseback,
and any long-continued exercise in open air, seem to grant a long im-

724 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

munity from the effects of vicious diet ; and it seems that there is a
peptic stimulus in mountain air and the climate of a high latitude."

The kitchen-reformers of England and North America seem united
on the question of alcohol only, but contradict each other and some-
times themselves in their food-theories and general toxicology. The
hygienic system of Dio Lewis embraces the vegetarian, total abstinence,
and hydropathic dogmas, but in consistent logic and ingenuity is far
surpassed by that of Schrodt, the Swiss dietist.

In his " Natur-Heilkunde," Schrodt distinguishes between natural,
artificially adapted, and unnatural or wholly injurious articles of food.
" Our natural food," he says (like Pythagoras), " are such vegetable and
semi-animal products as either are or can he eaten and relished raw,
and without the preliminaries of cooMng and spicing. Such are milk,
honey, eggs, nuts, cereals, a few roots, legumina, and gums, and the
countless variety of fruit, which are man-food /)«r excellence. Our vari-
ous kinds of bread, though artificially prepared, as well as other farina-
ceous dishes, are derived from an edible grain which is neither repulsive
nor indigestible in its original state.

" To the second or adapted edibles belong different vegetables which
are rendered palatable only by the process of cooking, as cabbage,
beans, peas and lentils, and various roots and leaves. Flesh, also, I
will add to this list, though some would place it in the third class. In-
jurious, without a redeeming quality, are all narcotic and alcoholic
drinks, and all ardent spices, such as pepper, mustard, and acid fluids ;
also those partly decayed and acid substances whose properties are
more stimulating than nourishing : strong cheese, sauerkraut, and
pickles."

This system is based on the idea that an unvitiated taste is a suffi-
cient criterion of healthfulness in food, and that to the palate of a child
all wholesome substances are agreeable, all injurious ones repulsive.
"A taste for the so-called articles of diet embraced in my third class,"
says Herr Schrodt, "is always artificially and painfully acquired. No
man of veracity or memory will tell me that he liked cheese or brandy
at first." In accounting for the prevalence of stimulation and intem-
perance among seemingly healthy nations, he too falls back on vicari-
ous atonement by otherwise salutary habits.

Viewed in the light of Dr. Boerhaave's theory, the gastronomic ex-
ploits of ancient and modern savages may gain an additional interest.
How desirable it would be to know by which vicarious virtue his Ma-
jesty the Emperor Vitellius could atone for the often-repeated sin of de-
vouring three brace of peacocks at a sitting, which Suetonius assures us
did not prevent him from appearing in the palestra an hour afterward
and joining in the games which were prolonged by torchlight toward
the morning hour ! Vendome, the champion of France and the one
strategic peer ever opposed to Marlborough, was as formidable at the
mess-table as on the battle-field. He would gorge himself till his joints

DIETETIC CURIOSITIES. 725

commenced to tremble and the oppression of his chest threatened him
with asphyxia. Woe to the waiter or messmate who offended him by
word or want of attention in such moments ! A fierce blow, a hurled
tumbler, or a tremendous kick were the mildest expressions of his im-
patience. After the defeat of Oudenarde he saved the French army
by a masterly retreat that kept him in the saddle for two days and two
nights, and then restored himself, not by sleep, but by sitting down to a
banquet of sixteen hours, during which he incorporated as many pounds
of mutton-pie, if we may believe Chateaubriand.

Calmucks, according to Mr. Schuyler, will travel a hundred miles to
stuff themselves with horseflesh at somebody else's expense ; and Gor-
don Gumming mentions a family of Zulu-Caifres — a man, two wives,
and four children — who, between noon and sunset, disposed of all the
meat, marrow, and intestines of a large zebra, and during the following
night picked the bones in a way which only an army of ants could
emulate. Vambory speaks of a Tartar courier, named Thuy-Kasr, who
boasted of having eaten, " unassisted and without employment of witch-
craft," a large skinful of raisins and a middle-sized pig, leaving nothing
but bristles and a few of the larger bones ; and once, within fifty hours,
even a goat with two kids, together with a bag of dried figs and deep
potions of koumiss or fermented mare's milk. Thuy-Kasr must have
known the secret of Apicius, " which enabled the adept to prolong his
appetite for two days and a night." But such Tartars are not the ex-
clusive product of Gentral Asia. James Halpin, a Yorkshire man, who
exhibited himself in Manchester and other English cities during the
first years of this centurj^, thought nothing of eating a dozen pigeons,
bones, feathers and all ; swallowed trout and larger fishes alive, and won
a wager by devouring within two hours all the edibles, including half
a cheese and a large quantity of pickles, on a table that had been set
for eight persons !

Joseph Kolnicker, born 1809 in Passau, southern Germany, who
served as a private soldier for a couple of years, had to be discharged
before the expiration of his term on account of his appalling appetite.
He would devour raw potatoes, horse-turnips, cabbages in the garden,
could empty basketfuls of eggs in a few minutes, and, in spite of all
precautions, gained admittance to an officer's pantry or the commissary
storerooms now and then, and with most deplorable results. He, too,
converted his expensive talent into a source of profit by public exhi-
bitions, and won so many incredible bets that, much to his regret, his
renown eventually spread like that of the athlete Milo, and nobody
dared to challenge him.

But no modern virtuoso can emulate the giants of antiquity. Clau-
dius, Caligula, Domitian, and Heliogabalus, the imperial gluttons, al-
most exhausted the resources of the Orbis Romanus by their monstrous
voracity. Cicero compares the scene after a Roman banquet to a battle-
field ; and many of the wealthiest patricians were ruined by one or two

726 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of those entertainments, to which the above-named potentates had an
unpleasant habit of inviting themselves.

The symposia of Apicius lasted from twenty to thirty hours, and
his semi-annual state dinners even two days, during which host and
guests were restricted to recesses of ten minutes, and etiquette required
them to partake of every dish and drink, the quantity being optional,
except in regard to certain spiced wines, of which a good-sized jug was
de rigueiir — a rule w^hich could only be circumvented by liberal libations
to the gods. Yet even excess itself was exceeded by the mania of Vi-
tellius, who wasted the yearly revenue of a province on a single ban-
quet, gorged himself for hour after hour without intermission, and, in
the words of Tacitus, " unadmonished by the eruptive protests of na-
ture, never thought of yielding while he could see and hear " ! He and
some of his successors on the throne of gluttony probably owed their
immunity to the virtues of a long lineage of frugal ancestors. Italy,
truly, is the land of contrasts, of extremes in virtue as well as in vice.
The resources wasted on a single day at one of those saturnalia of in-
temperance would probably have fed a village for a century of the early
republican era, and for at least twenty years in our present time of
poverty-born frugality. Frugal, in its original sense, meant literally
subsisting on fruit in distinction to carnivorous habits, which were
thought extravagant. Cyrus, King of Persia, according to Xenophon,
was brought up on a diet of water, bread, and cresses, till up to his
fifteenth year, when honey and raisins were added ; and the family
names of the Fabii and Lentuli were derived from their customary and
possibly exclusive diet. Eggs and apples, with a little bread, were for
centuries the alpha and omega of a Roman dinner ; and, in earlier times,
even bread and turnips, if not turnips alone, which the patriot Cincin-
natus thought sufficient for his wants. It is singular that our temper-
ance societies direct their eiforts only against the fluid part of our vi-
cious diet ; a league of temperate eaters would certainly find a large field
for reform. But in Italy the thing was attempted by Luigi de Cornaro,
a Venetian nobleman of the fifteenth century, who restricted himself
to a daily allowance of ten ounces of solid food and six ounces of wine,
and prolonged his life to one hundred and two years. Though he did
not organize his followers into a sect, his example and his voluminous
writings influenced the manners of his country for many years. Cor-
naro would not have gained many converts in Russia and Germany ; but
throughout southern Europe frugality, in the truest old Latin sense, is
by no means rare. Lacour, a Marseilles 'longshoreman, earned from ten
to twenty francs a day, loaned money on interest and gave alms, but
slept at night in his basket, and subsisted on fourteen onions a day,
which preserved him in excellent health and humor, but got him the
nickname of quatorze oignons.

A pound of bread with six ounces of poor cheese, and such berries
as the roadside may offer, constitute the daily ration of the Turkish

DIETETIC CURIOSITIES. 727

soldier on the march, and the followers of Don Carlos contented them-
selves with even less. A correspondent of the " Daily News " was
served with a dish of radishes in a Catalan tavern, and ventured the
remark that radishes were taken after meals in northern Europe. " You
can get some more after finishing these," was the reply. The radishes
constituted the dinner.

Not that men should, but that they can, live on bread alone, is
abundantly proved by the records of Old-World prisons. Silvio Pellico,
the Italian patriot and martyr, subsisted for seven years on coarse rye-
bread and water, which experience had taught him to prefer to the
putrid pork-soup of his Austrian bastile. The prisoners of the Khedive
were fed on rice and Indian corn, till the prayers of the French resi-
dents and his American officers induced him to sweeten their bitter lot
by a weekly bottle of sakarra, or diluted molasses ; and I learn from
an article in a French journal that some of these unfortunates, who had
passed long years without any hint of sakarra, were forced by chronic
bowel complaints to return to their old dry fare.

Fedor Darapski, born 1774 in Karskod near Praga, eastern Poland,
was brought to the government of Novgorod in his twenty-second year
as a conscript to the Russian army, and was soon after sentenced to
death for mutiny and assault with intent to kill. The Empress Catha-
rine, acting on a recommendation of the Governor of Novgorod, com-
muted his sentence to imprisonment for life, but ordered that on every
anniversary of the deed (an attempt to kill his colonel) the convict
should receive forty lashes and be kept on half rations for a week after;
the full ration being two pounds of black bread and a jug of cold
water. On these terms Darapski was boarded at the fortress of Kiri-
lov till 1863, when at the approach of his ninetieth birthday he was
again recommended to mercy and liberated by order of the present
Czar.

Even the story of Nebuchadnezzar may be more than an allegory,
as the wild berries, roots, and grass-seeds of the Assyrian valleys con-
tained surely as much nourishment as sour rye-bread ; and who knows
but grass itself might do for a while, since the Slavonian peasants often
subsist for weeks at a time on sauerkraut and cabbage-soup ?

Corsican farmers live all winter on dried fruit and 2^olcnta (chest-
nut-meal), and the Moors of mediaeval Spain used to provision their
fortified cities with chestnuts and olive-oil. During the siege of Luck-
now the native soldiers asked that the little rice left be given to their
British comrades ; as for themselves, they could do with the sokj), i. e.,
the water in which the rice had been boiled !

But the ne plus ultra of abstinence combined with robust strength
is furnished in the record of Shamyl, the heroic Circassian, who for
the last two years of the war that ended with his capture had nothing
but water for his drink and roasted beechnuts for his food, and yet
month after month defied the power of the Russian Empire in his na-

728 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tive mountains, and repeatedly cut his way through the ranks of his
would-be captors with the arm of a Hercules.

The philosophers of antiquity prided themselves on their frugal
habits, which ranked next to godliness in their estimation, as expressed
in the famous aphorism, " God needs nothing, and he is next to Him
who can do with next to nothing " — whose material needs are the
smallest. Primitive habits are certainly favorable to independence,
especially in a genial climate, where a man is above the fear of
tyranny and all social obligations, who like Shamyl can subsist on the
spontaneous gifts of his mother Earth. " Do you know," Cyrus asked
the ambassador of a luxurious potentate, " how invincible men are who
can live on herbs and acorns ? " If the Saracens had persisted in the
simplicity of their fathers, the nineteenth century might see Moorish
kingdoms in southern Europe, and Arabian science and fruit-gardens
in the place of deserts and m.onkish besottedness. Cato needed no pro-
phetic inspiration to predict the downfall of a city where a small fish
could fetch a higher price than a fattened ox.

Lycurgus, the Spartan, makes the diet of his countrymen the sub-
ject of careful legislation, but seems to have feared excesses in quality
rather than in quantity : as long as the black soup and other national
dishes remained orthodox in regard to the prescribed simple ingredients,
free indulgence of the most exacting appetites was not only permitted
but encouraged. At the philosophic reunions of the Lyceum the bill
of fare permitted a choice between dried figs and honey-water in addi-
tion to the wheat-bread, which could not be refused, and Greece was
the model of early Roman institutions in this as well as in other re-
spects. Fruit and bread-cakes, spiced with Attic salt and music, enter-
tained the friends of Plato at those suppers of the gods of three or
four hours, which Aristotle preferred to so many years on the throne
of Persia ; but the very next generation witnessed the drunken riots
of Babylon and the general introduction of Persian manners and lux-
uries.

The ancients undoubtedly were our superiors in hygienic insight,
but among the many judicious restrictions of their dietary regimens
there are some that we must attribute to prejudice or leave utterly un-
accounted for. The Mosaic interdiction of rabbit-flesh, wild swan, and
finless fishes has been very learnedly explained as a necessary conse-
quence of general laws, which had to include those animals for the
sake of consistency ; but what on earth or below earth could induce
Pythagoras, the great philosopher, to prohibit the use of beans — nay,
even denounce any contact with the shell, the leaves, or the roots of
the poor plant as a dreadful pollution ? Such was the stigma he had
attached to the violation of this rule, we are told, that a body of sol-
diers from Magna Grsecia, who all belonged to the Pythagorean sect,
permitted themselves to be cut to pieces or captured rather than save
themselves by crossing a bean-field !

DIETETIC CURIOSITIES. 729

The old proverb cle gustibus can hardly prevent astonishment at the
diversity of tastes. What would Pythagoras have said about our na-
tional dish of pork and beans, or what shall we say to explain the Japa-
nese prejudice against milk, the Papuan's partiality for fat white cater-
pillars, or the gliraria that were attached to every decent household of
imperial Rome ? Athenaeus describes a glirarium as a large brick struc-
ture, divided by wire partitions into small cells, from five hundred to
two thousand of them ; every cell the receptacle of a captive rat, which
was fattened on husks, rotten fish, and other offal, till a further increase
in bulk would make it difficult to extract the animal through the nar-
row door of its cage. The perfect specimens were then collected,
stufi"ed with crushed figs, and served in a sauce of olive-oil at the- ban-
quets of wealthy patriots who preferred domestic delicacies to colonial
imports. The Digger Indians of our Pacific slope rejoiced in the great
locust-swarms of 1875 as in a gracious dispensation of the Great Sjairit,
and laid in a store of dried locust-powder for years to come. Even
mineral substances and strong mineral poisons have their votaries.
Mithridates, King of Pontus, could take a large dose of arsenic with
impunity, and the mountaineers of Savoy and southern Switzerland
use arsenic habitually as a safeguard against pulmonic affections. The
poor Norsemen often mix their daily bread with a whitish mineral pow-
der, more from n^essity than a vitiated taste, we hope ; but a similar
substance is employed by the natives of Brazil and other parts of tropi-
cal America without any such excuse. The name of Panama is derived
irom panamante {originoWy pan-de-monte, mountain-bread), a substance
which the Indians of Central America prepared from a mealy gypsum-
powder, found here and there in the Sierra. Humboldt describes a
tribe of Indians in northern Brazil who have been addicted to the use
of panamante for generations, and were distinguished by a monstrous
protuberance and induration of the upper abdomen. When the French
were masters of St. Domingo their negro slaves had contracted a simi-
lar passion, and could only be restrained by barbarous punishments
from indulging it to excess.

It would be erroneous to suppose that cannibalism has become quite
extinct. Among the Dyaks of Borneo there is a recurrence of the
outrage after every petty feud and raid, and many of the South Sea
Islands are still infested with secret anthropophagi. The Pintos, an
aboriginal tribe of Yucatan, have repeatedly been detected in cannibal
practices ; and phenomenal cases have occurred in Asia after every
protracted famine. In 1873 the Chasseurs d'Afrique captured an old
Kabyle on the plateau of Sidi-Belbez (Algiers), who had committed in-
numerable murders to indulge this horrible passion, and had twice been
caught in flagrante by his countrymen, who contented themselves with
giving him a good hiding the first time, and released him on another
occasion when they found his victim had only been a French settler !

The slaughter-houses of every large city are visited by delicate ladies,
VOL. XIV. — 47

730 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

who hope to cure affections of the respiratory organs by a draught of
fresh blood, but who would inspire a Hindoo with a cannibal terror
more intense than that produced in the Algerian settlements by the
above Kabyle. Herodotus relates that the Scythians executed their
criminals by a potion of fresh ox-blood, and recommends this as a
more humane method than capital punishment by the sword, though in-
ferior to the hemlock-cup. " For opening the gates of Tartarus," says
Haller, " there is nothing like a good narcotic. If I should have oc-
casion to leave this world, I would no more think of shooting myself
than of leaving town by being fired from a mortar, when I could take
the stage-coach."

The Turks shudder at seeing a Frank swallow oysters, and even in
the cities of Europe and North America we find individuals with simi-
lar antipathies ; and I know an old professor who passed half a cen-
tury in St. Petersburg, and suffered grievously from an unconquerable
aversion to caviare. Caviare is the salted or pickled roe of the stur-
geon— not quite so bad as Schnepfendreck, a North German delicacy,
which consists chiefly of the faeces of the common woodcock.

Professor H, Letheby, food-analyst for the city of London, is respon-
sible for the following account of a mandarin's dinner, given to an Eng-
lish party and some distinguished natives of Hong-Kong :

The dinner began with hot wine, made from rice, and sweet biscuits of buck-
wheat. Then followed the first course of custards, preserved rice, fruits, salted
earthworms, smoked fish and ham, Japau leather (?) and pigeons' eggs, having
the shells softened by vinegar; all of which was cold. After this came sharks'
fins, birds' nests, deer-sinews, and other dishes of an appetizing and dainty char-
acter. They were succeeded by more solid foods, as rice and curry, chopped
bear's paws, mutton and beef cut into small cubes and floating in gravy ; pork
in various forms, the flesh of puppies and cats boiled in buffalo's milk ; shantimg
or white cabbage and sweet potatoes ; fowls split open, flattened and grilled,
their livers floating in hot oil, and cooked eggs of various descriptions, contain-
ing embryo birds. But the surprise of the entertainment was yet to come. On
the removal of some of the flower-vases a large covered dish was placed in the
center of the table, and at a signal the cover was removed. The hospitable board
immediately swarmed with juvenile crabs, who made their exodus from the ves-
sel with surprising agility, for the crablets had been thrown into vinegar before
the guests sat down, and this made them sprightly in their movements ; but, fast
as they ran, they were quickly seized by the nearest guests, who thrust them into
their mouths and crushed them without ceremony, swallowing the strange gelat-
inous morsel with evident gusto. After this soy was handed round, which is a
liquor made from a Japan bean, .and is intended to revive the jaded palate.
Various kinds of shell and fresh fish followed, succeeded by several thin broths.
The banquet was concluded by the costly bird's-nest soup, the dessert being a
variety of scorched seeds and nuts, with sundry hot wines and tea.

But the mandarin was astonished in his turn by finding ice-cream
among the delicacies of an English refreshment-table, and predicted dis-
astrous consequences from its habitual use. Ice, without doubt, is in-

TEE MONSTROUS IN ART, 731

jurious, but not more unnatural than our custom of swallowing boiling-
hot soups and stews.

In the use of hot spices the Spaniards and their South American
kinsmen exceed every other nation. Chile Colorado, or red pepper, is
one of the mildest condiments of a Peruvian kitchen. The yerha
blanca, a whitish-green herb which is used raw with olive-oil on sand-
wiches, and enters into the composition of various ragouts, is described
as resembling the lapis infernalis in its effect on a normal tongue. A
Mexican can chew up a handful of red pepper as we would so much
dried fruit, and eats onions, garlic, and salted radishes as a relief from
more pungent tastes. I must believe it, on the testimony of the entire
medical faculty of the city of Bremen, that a man who was treated in
their city hospital for a most mysterious complaint settled the dispute of
his physicians by confessing a weakness for tan-xcater — the fiery infusion
of tan-bark, in which he had indulged rather to excess in the last year.
The inhabitants of southern Russia, especially of the Dnieper Delta, are
all day long chewing the aromatic seeds of the sunflower and different
kinds of pumpkin-seeds, which appears to be less a stimulation than an
idle habit, like the use of chewing gum in our boarding-schools.

Timour the Tartar celebrated his victories by solemn barbecues of
broiled horseflesh and fermented mare's milk, or koumiss, which is still
a favorite drink of his countrymen. Tartars also use a decoction of the
poisonous fly-sponge as a stimulating beverage, and according to Vam-
b6ry have a national foible for morsels of superannuated meat, of an
aroma which the French term of haut-goM would hardly begin to de-
scribe. Yet these same Tartars might shudder at being confronted with
a dish of that Limburg delicacy which finds its way into the best hotels
of Continental Europe. I can not forget the emphatic protest of a
Spanish officer who was invited to partake by a German admirer of the
questionable dainty, in the cabin of a Havana steamer. " You think
it unhealthy to eat that ? " inquired the Hamburger, in polite astonish-
ment. " Unhealthy ? " exclaimed the Hidalgo, with a withering look
and a gasp for a more adequate word — " no, sir ! I think it an unnatu-
ral crime ! "

■♦*»

THE MOI^STKOUS IN AET.

By SAMUEL KNEELAND, A. M., M. D.

MANY persons of culture and poetic imagination, with a keen
sense of the beautiful, but with little knowledge of livinor
nature, believe and maintain, and in one sense justly, that certain
works of old and modern masters are works of high art, from color,
grouping, elegance of figures, and the various accessories which, in
themselves, or by ideas and emotions excited by them, make painting
and sculpture very powerful agents in instructing and elevating man-

732 THU POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

kind. According to a recent definition of art, that of Mr. Benjamin,
"Art may be said, in a general way, to spring from the poetic yearn-
ings and emotions suggested by aspirations after the true, the good,
and the beautiful . . . . the material means for expressing such feelings
appealing to the imagination through the eye by the use of external
forms." The highest art, according to this definition, must include the
good, the true, and the beautiful ; the physically beautiful, or the beau-
tiful and the good, is not the aim of the highest art ; the true must be
added for a work that shall rank as such for all time.

A painting or a statue may be beautiful, as interpreting the emo-
tions or religious beliefs of man at any particular epoch of bis history ;
but, if the ideas symbolized or suggested become untrue or unbeliefs,
they thereby lose in artistic value, and no longer belong to the do-
main of the highest art. Nothing that is simply temporary, no mere
conventionalism, however beautiful at the time, which becomes un-
natural or impossible as man advances in knowledge, can, in my opin-
ion, belong to the highest art.

Any one who discusses the principles of art from the point of view
of the true, without reference to the beautiful, labors under great dis-
advantages, arising chiefly from the intimate connection between art
and religion. Most of the best works of the old and modern masters,
in painting especially, embody the theologic beliefs of the period, and
suggest ideas of spiritual, not of physical truth. As there is evolution
in nature and in theology, let us hope there is also evolution in art ;
we can not stand still in any matters of knowledge, for, if we go not
forward, we practically go backward, as all the interests of humanity
will leave us behind.

The faith in spiritual truths which artists embody by symbols, with-
out being of necessity weakened, will be modified by knowledge, and
thus render forms once suggestive of beauty and goodness now untrue
and monstrous. I know that the old objection will be urged that,
though scientific truths rest upon reason, there are spiritual truths in-
capable of demonstration, emotions above and beyond reason. Even
educated persons have very indefinite and very difi'erent ideas on the
nature of the mental evidence arising from religious aspirations, and
the wish is very apt to be " father to the thought " in symbolic repre-
sentations of supernatural attributes and powers.

There may be no contradiction in the belief in the existence of
spiritual beings far above us in power, and that such may even commu-
nicate with mankind in various ways ; but, if they assume to the eye
the shape and functions of humanity, they should be made to conform
to the laws of human anatomy and physiology.

Those who are easily and strongly moved by these spiritual emo-
tions will not listen to reason, which they maintain has nothing to do
in the premises. Let such cling to their spiritual truths, and to the
artistic representations which embody and suggest them, and regard

THE MONSTROUS IiV ART. 733

them as high art if they please ; but, at the same time, let the truth
as it is in nature and reason have a chance to appear in the field of
art. If Theology and Art are sisters (and the}' are in one sense), let
them be twiti sisters, walking hand in hand, with the stamp of truth,
as we know it, in every line, word, and feature, irrespective of any
pious frauds or false rules of art bequeathed to us by past ages. Spir-
itual truth ought to be reenforced by scientific truth, and art as well as
reliorion will be the gainer.

I know very well that I am treading here on debatable ground,
and that those who follow, or think they follow, the ideal in art, will
rise as a host against me. My object here is to show that art has too
much neglected the laws of living animal nature ; that mythology has
been followed rather than zoology, where attention to the latter would
have been just as good for all the purposes of art, and far better for
the interest of truth. In one sense, the ideal is the ultimate aim of
art, if by that is meant that it shall suggest true ideas, and excite emo-
tions which shall educate and elevate ; but not, if by the ideal we
signify the merely imaginary, fanciful, unnatural, and impossible, how-
ever beautiful such creations may be.

Even admitting that a work of high art by the old masters may
include the impossible, the unnatural, as symbolic, if judged by the
knowledge of the times and the motives of the artist, that is no reason
for advocating similar errors in the nineteenth century. It seems to
me that the symbolic in art bears a relation to the natural and the
true, similar to that which the hieroglyphics of the ancient Egyptians
do to the written languages of the moderns — the one indefinite, sug-
gestive, but variously interpreted, local, and temporary ; the other defi-
finite, positive, universal, and for all time unmistakable — and that we
might as well go back centuries and adopt the hieroglyphic as the
simply symbolic without reference to its truth in art. Symbolism is
the visible expression of a myth, possessing a variable amount of truth
and a large amount of error ; both are characteristic, in the progress of
civilization, of the lower phases of development.

I speak of art from the natural, not the imaginative point of view,
and my arguments are addressed chiefly to such as have a fair knowl-
edge of anatomy, physiology, zoology (living and fossil), and the laws
of development in the animal kingdom. As, however, many deeply
interested in the progress of art have very little acquaintance with liv-
ing nature, it will be necessary for me to enter into some details, tire-
some perhaps for the scientific expert, but important for the popular
understanding of my argument.

While I do not deny the artistic value of the imaginative, symbolic,
and ideal, I maintain that such, at the present time, if contrary to
nature, is not the highest art, is not necessary for the expression of
the most ennobling ideas, and is not demanded by the most exalted
aspirations of humanity.

734 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

The Greeks and Romans, whose principles of art the moderns have
chiefly imitated, personified certain ideas of their social state, deified
and worshiped them. As a general rule, they found in nature the types
which they idealized ; in some cases, from ignorance, superstition, or
love of the marvelous, they departed from nature, and to that extent, in
my judgment, their art was false. Art, as I understand it, should be the
interpreter of nature, without too servile an imitation ; art may trans-
figure nature, but should never be false to it ; wwnatural and, I may
add (as far as knowledge is concerned), supem&iuvnl art 'is tnon-
strosity.

By monstrosity (which is here used in its scientific, not its popular
sense) I mean nothing ugly, misshapen, gigantic, or dwarfish, or with
any congenital anomalies of conformation, rendering impossible the
accomplishment of the ordinary functions of life, but the union of parts
incompatible with each other, and impossible when brought to the test
of reason and natural laws, however beautiful or suggestive they may
be, and however consecrated by unquestioning ages of social, religious,
and jBsthetic acceptance. It is true, as Goethe has well said, that " it
is in her monstrosities that Nature reveals to us her secrets," which we
now know are but the expressions of natural laws ; I hope to show that
in the monsters of art she only reveals to us her weakness.

To illustrate my meaning by a few examples : The ancients, when
they represented Saturn as Chronos or Time, the father of the gods, as
an old man devouring his children (hours and days and years), armed
with a scythe by which he cut down the generations of man, conceived
a beautiful, expressive, and natural idea ; but when they put upon him
a pair of wings, to indicate the velocity of his flight, he became a mon-
ster, for the reason that arms and wings and legs are incompatible, and
can not exist in nature, as we know the vertebrate skeleton. Six pairs
of limbs are conceivable with the vertebrate skeleton, but wings with-
out bones to support or muscles to move them are not 'conceivable.

Among other winged and impossible monsters created by ancient
art, expressing long-cherished ideas, is Cupid or Love — though if
would be an anatomical impossibility to move said wings ; he must
drop either his arms, with the bow and arrows, or his wings. So Mors
or Death, represented by a skeleton, has enormous wings, with not a
muscle to move either bone or pinion ; Morpheus the minister of Som-
nus or Sleep, Psyche the Soul, and Zephyr the West Wind, have the
wings of a butterfly — a mixture of vertebrate and invertebrate charac-
ters entirely incompatible.

The wonderful adaptation of the human skeleton to its uses — the
contour of the spine, which renders erect position and biped locomotion
possible in him alone of mammals ; the lower limbs for locomotion only ;
the upper limbs for prehension, and the service of the senses resident in
the head — all these imply a certain bony structure and corresponding
muscular developments. If you add another pair of limbs as wings,

THE MONSTROUS IN ART. 735

you make an anatomical nondescript, an impossible monster, devoid of
truth, false to nature, odious to the highest art.

The smooth, comparativelj'' hairless skin of man, angel, or devil, is
incompatible with the feathers of a bird's wings ; his bony tissue has
not the air-spaces, nor does it communicate with the lungs, as in the
bird, wliich is thus rendered specifically lighter. His thorax or chest is
too movable for the support of muscles of flight, even if angels were
made armless and winged ; his breastbone is smooth, not keeled as in
birds ; so that flying angels must of necessity be deformed and pigeon-
breasted if they had muscles of flight. The biped attitude of the bird
requires a change of posture, an horizontality, to get the center of grav-
ity between the shoulders for flight, which would render man a ridicu-
lous figure. As far as we know locomotion in the animal kingdom, the
wings and the legs are not moved at the same time in progression in
the air ; it is seen only in some birds with very rudimentary or short
wings, who use their wings to help them in running on the ground,
which is not the ideal of the artist's angel. The ideal, or that which
suggests the idea of a heavenly messenger, need not be false to nature ;
an angel icithout wings is just as ideal and suggestive, and not an ana-
tomical impossibility. That the form of an angel need not of necessity
have wings is shown by a painting in the museum at Naples of the
*' Holy Family," attributed to an artist of the Florentine school, in
every respect admirable, and usually called the " Virgin of Purity." The
angels have no wings, and carry lilies in their hands ; wings would have
added nothing to the picture, which is remarkable for its natural beauty.

It seems to me that an angel without wings, floating upon surround-
ing clouds (like the ''hours" in Guide's "Aurora"), is a much higher
symbol of a supernatural messenger than the conventional winged one ;
it indicates a spirit, an ethereal substance, a mere outline figure sug-
gestive of motion ; but if you add the unnatural and impossible wings
to the arms, you make a monster in human form^ defy the process of
reasoning, rob the image of its spirituality, and degrade it to a coarse
and earthy symbol, inconsistent with the idea it is intended to convey.

I will allude to a few other monstrosities in ancient art, copied by
the moderns, to further illustrate my meaning.

It was natural that a barbarous people, at the first and distant view
of men on horseback, should imagine that they were creatures half man
and half horse ; hence the fabled Centaurs, a people of Thessaly, who
were among the earliest to bring the horse into the service of man. As
is well known, the Centaurs had the head, arms, chest, and body of a
man as far as the hips, joined to the chest, body, and four limbs of the
horse. Though a Centaur at rest is a noble figure, symbolic of strength,
swiftness, intelligence, and protection of man by the Olympian gods,
the position which the creature was supposed to assume in his contact
with man, as shown in many mural tablets found at Pompeii, and now
in the museum at Naples, is ridiculous and impossible.

736 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Just imagine, if you can, the condition and position of the organs
in this case. Let it be all right to the point where the horse joins the
man ; the excretions of the man, with his mass of intestines and other
organs of digestion and secretion, must pass through the chest of the
horse, filled with this creature's lungs and heart and great blood-vessels,
involving another set of digestive and excretory organs, another form
of skeleton, with the muscles, limbs, and skin of the horse. The man
must eat for the horse, as his is the only mouth, which would necessi-
tate a diet repugnant even to the most fanatic vegetarian. We natu-
rally inquire if he must also breathe for the horse ; there must be double
lungs, double heart, double stomach, double intestines, double body, six
limbs, long tail, hoofs and hands — a monster considerably worse than
the single-bodied but six-limbed art-angels above alluded to. If we ac-
cept Hercules and Achilles, we can not accept the Centaur Chiron, their
instructor.

Among other monsters created by the ancients and adopted by the
moderns is Pan, the chief of the rural deities, with his attendant Fauns
and Satyrs, having the head, arms, and body of a man, and the hairy-
lower limbs and hoofs of a goat. How they managed to walk erect on
such feet, and preserve their center of gravity where it ought to be, to
say nothing of the incompatibility of the human pelvis and the hircine
legs in bones and muscles, is a puzzle for the physiologist. The fact
that the theologic devil is usually represented very much like the god
Pan, with all his inconsistencies and impossibilities, shows at once the
origin and the absurdity of the idea ; to his extreme ugliness, exciting
a panic fear, is doubtless due the selection of his figure to represent
the theologic spirit of evil, upon whose existence and domain many a
spiritual panic has rested.

Neptune, the god of the seas, was represented in an immense shell
drawn by impossible sea-horses, and surrounded by equally impossible
Tritons, half man and half dolphin, and Nereids, half woman and half
fish.

There is a large class of ancient artistic conceptions, freely copied
by the moderns, not anatomically monstrous, but physically and physio-
logically impossible — such as Atlas supporting the globe on his shoul-
ders; caryatides, female figures used by architects to support roofs and
heavy weights ; and other similar conceptions, painful to look at if we
apply the tests of reason and common sense. I would say here that,
in mere ornamentation, conventional representations suggestive of the
intended image may be legitimately and artistically used with good
efi'ect; but if they are contrary to nature, whether on a candlestick or
a church tower, they must belong to the lowe7' spheres of art ; and no
metaphysical subtilty, no assumption of sesthetic culture, no aspirations
after an imaginary and impossible ideal, ought, in this nineteenth cen-
tury, to raise them to the highest position in art.

As the so-called ideals of the ancients must have had some things in

THE MONSTROUS IN ART. 737

nature to suggest them, it may be ■well to examine, in the light of the
present day, for their justification, but not for ours (who have copied
them and ought to have known better), what they really had as foun-
dation for these monstrous forms in truth, real or apparent.

The conception of the Centaurs, we have already seen, is easily ex-
plained by the appearance of a man on horseback. Workers in metals,
exposed to the intense heat and glare of their fires, would naturally
protect their faces by masks of wood or leather, as makers of plate-
glass, for example, do now, looking out through a single median hole —
hence the fabulous Cyclops. The Satyrs were evidently derived from
some of the large anthropoid apes, which must have been known to
primeval man.

The above-mentioned monsters, and many others which admit of a
natural explanation, did not originate with the Greeks ; they obtained
them from the Egyptians, and these from antecedent races long before
the historic period. The existence of man with the mammoth, masto-
don, Irish elk, cave bear and lion, among quadrupeds — with the dodo,
dinornis, and epiornis, among birds — suggests that perhaps he may
have lived with the pterodactyl and serpent-like marine lizards, or
their modified descendants, in the Tertiary or a more remote epoch.
The mastodon, or the mammoth (either), might easily have been
made into the Minotaur killed by Theseus ; the Nemean lion slain by
Hercules may well have been the Felis spelma of the bone-caves ; the
rhinoceros would make an excellent foundation for the unicorn; the
cuttle-fishes of the Mediterranean, with their eight or ten arms, moving
independently, and armed with terrible suckers, would readily suggest
the many-headed hydra, also killed by Hercules.

The Sirens, and other marine creatures of human likeness, are the
natural outgrowths of the imagination of sailors returning from long
voyages, without the sight of a woman for months or years. Seeing
manatees and seals reclining on the shores, holding their young in their
arms while suckling them, like all mammals, the semi-human faces, the
womanly position, and the tender care and anxiety for their young in
this act — their hearts would be filled with such joy at thoughts of home,
and their eyes with tears long pent up, that the combination of indis-
tinct vision and excited imagination would transform the creatures they
saw into the beautiful women they longed to see.

At Stabile have been found mural tablets representing Nereids, or
horses with the tail of a fish, evidently suggested by the little sea-horse
{hippocampus) of the Mediterranean ; in some the head of the horse is
replaced by the head of a tiger — not a very abrupt transition.

The fauna of the Tertiary age from the Miocene down, which there
is some reason to believe passed before the eyes of primeval man, would
afford ample material for gorgons, dragons, sylphs, and satyrs, leviathan
and behemoth, and the whole list of ancient and modern fabulous mon-
sters. The birds with teeth, and the winged lizard of the Secondary

738 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

age (the pterodactyl), known very -well by its fossil remains, if clothed
with flesh and provided with limbs and wings, would make a creature
iu some respects like the dragon of fairy tales.

The mythical gigantic kraken of the northern seas has a legitimate
descendant, and is simply an exaggerated type of the giant architeuthis
of the coast of Newfoundland, of which a specimen has recently been
exhibited in this city.

The " roc ' of Sindbad the Sailor was not much larger than the epi-
ornis of Madagascar and the dinornis of New Zealand, more than twice
the size of the ostrich. The Eastern imagination, on the basis of these
great birds actually coexisting with man, would naturally put on the
wings which birds of this type did not possess, and then the transporta-
tion of a man into the " Valley of Diamonds " would be quite possible.

These forms could hardly have been imagined by barbarous man ;
they must have had their prototypes in nature : they are, therefore,
not ideal forms, but, in a zoological sense, real forms.

An artist may be ignorant of history, chronology, and zoology, as
well as of anatomy and physiology, and may be a perfect child in bis
knowledge of common things beyond his immediate every-day sight.
Even Raphael, Albert Diirer, Salvator Rosa, Vandyke, Paul Veronese,
Poussin, and many others, have greatly erred in these respects. In-
stances might easily be mentioned, but I will merely allude to them to
show that art has not always been true to nature and fact, and to say
that we are not only at liberty, but in duty bound, to protest against
all untruthfulness, whether it oifend the eye or the reason.

Let me not be understood as pretending to say that there is no art
or beauty in purely fanciful creations in painting or sculpture. There
is a place, and a genuine one, for the allegorical, the symbolic, the mys-
terious, the unreal, if you will, in art ; but such art, from the very fact
of its unreality, untruthfulness, and impossibility, is, I maintain, a lower
type than that which is strictl}' natural and true. Wings of angels, as
messengers of glad tidings or guardian spirits, are, as fanciful creations,
beautiful, though untrue ; winged heads, as suggesting the swiftness of
thought and intelligence, are acceptable as symbolic, though impos-
sible : but all such creations should take a subordinate position in art,
and in proportion as the symbolism departs from the true, the known,
and the conceivable. We must not confound the results of the imagi-
nation, which exaggerates possible parts seen, or supposed to be seen,
in nature, with the wholly unreal products of the fancy ; we may admit
their beauty, but, however definite and pleasing their outlines, if their
combinations, when tested by reason, are impossible, they must be re-
garded as lower than the natural. They may answer for gas-fixtures,
monuments, memorial windows, and various articles of household deco-
ration, but not for anything demanding admiration and following as a
work of high art.

Let me now bring to your remembrance a few celebrated works of

THE MONSTROUS IN ART. 739

acknowledged art, to show my meaning more clearly, and to give direc-
tion to the criticisms which I wish to make.

The Sistine Madonna of Raphael is without doubt the best and most
admired representation of " motherhood " in the whole range of art.
I think the experience of most persons who have seen it, even in en-
gravings or photographs, will justify the assertion that they are so car-
ried away by the beauty and grace of the mother and child, that they
do not at first see the host of surrounding angelic heads, nor the two
" cherubs " at the bottom of the picture. I allude here only to the
latter, which, in my opinion, detract from the grand effect, and intro-
duce a disturbing and inferior element which had better been left out.
The expression of their faces is innocent, angelic, if you please ; the
attitudes are graceful, natural, and childlike ; nevertheless, they are
unnecessary, impossible creatures, and are, if anything, six-limbed or
hexapod vertebrates, when, as naturally formed children, they would
have been just as symbolic, though quite as insignificant and useless.
Though their parts, separately, exist in nature, as a combination they
are impossible, and therefore, except as misplaced symbols, not artistic.

In this connection I would remark that, in my opinion, man has
never imagined, and can never imagine, any symbolic form in art or
poetry not suggested by his surroundings ; there are ugly things enough
and beautiful things enough in nature to suggest any forms represented
by art ; but a compound of man and bird or beast or insect could never
be suggested as a whole, without a previous knowledge of the parts.

It is not a very great step from the Aphrodite and Eros of the early
Greeks (not the sensual Yenus and Cupid of the later Greeks and the
Romans), by which they represented all that was tender and lovable in
woman, to the Virgin and Child. The step is still less from Cybele or
Rhea, the wife of Saturn and the mother of Jupiter or Jove, whose name
was in Greek Theotohos, in Latin Deipara, meaning the " mother of
God " ; Jove, the king of the gods, suggests in name as well as attributes
the Hebrew Jehovah. The Madonna, it seems to me, is simply an
evolution from pagan mythology to Christian art.

In some old religious paintings angels are represented as winged
heads, without body or limbs. Now, these artists painted better than
they knew ; for, according to the acknowledged principles of philosophi-
cal and comparative anatomy, the anterior limbs, whether arms, wings,
legs, or fins, are appendages to the occipital or posterior vertebra of the
skull ; in the fish, in fact, the pectoral fins, the anterior limbs, are at-
tached by bony connection to the back part of the skull. But, though
winged heads are anatomically legitimate, physiologically we can not
understand the action or the origin of any muscles sufficiently powerful
to move the head, to say nothing of the other incongruities, especially
of the union of human hair, face, and skin with the feathers of a bird.
As pure symbols these are acceptable for the infancy of the human race,
but are not therefore to be perpetuated by the moderns. Mother Goose

740 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is well enough for the child, but distasteful and absurd for the man,
even though under its symbolic language much truth be hidden.

In modern art, the " Night " and " Day " by Thorwaldsen, so well
known and so much admired, are similar specimens of the " Monstrous
in Art " ; the symbolic beauty of the work is such that we do not no-
tice the untruth and the impossibility of the wings. The " Theseus
slaying the Centaur," by Canova, displays another form of six-limbed
monster, whose impossibility is evident after what has been said above,
without the excuse of symbolism. In all our large cities we find sym-
bolic paintings of an " angel overcoming Lucifer," in which are seen the
same feathery pinions, widely spread and in violent action, with no
possible means for their support or movement.

Here, as in many paintings and statues which will readily be brought
to mind, as in the wall decorations at Pompeii, the " Victories," etc.,
we see a pretense of motion more or less active, and a possible use for
wings could they exist. But what shall be said of the large and con-
spicuous tablets at the corners of the " Museum of Fine Arts " in Bos-
ton, in one of which the central and principal figure, styled the " Genius
of Art," and so indicated by letters, is one of these impossible winged
monsters ?

The idea, however, is not original, but is an imitation of ancient art,
in which a genius or tutelar god of man or his industries is usually
represented with wings as well as arms.

In the above-mentioned tablet we see a nude figure, seated comfort-
ably upon a chair, presumably quiet, with outstretched arms welcoming
the nations who are bringing their representative works as offerings at
the shrine of art ; and yet this *' Genius of Art," not content with arms
and legs, at rest, has immense outstretched wings, indicative, if of any-
thing, of active motion — anatomically, an impossible six-limbed creature ;
physiologically, an absurdity,- implying the contradictory states of rest
and motion at the same time ; and, therefore, artistically, an unnatural,
nondescript monster. A similar tablet is upon the other corner, if pos-
sible, more ridiculous than the first ; the genius of art has found a
winged brother monster, called " Industry." The two, each with wings
and arms, are quietly seated, with wings widely stretched — we see in
this the same anatomical impossibility, the same physiological absurdity,
the same degradation of symbolism. As man is never intentionally ab-
surd, let us attribute these and similar monstrosities to ignorance of
nature's laws. If this be art, there is no gulf of absurdity too wide for
symbolism to clear at a single bound.

Other winged angelic hexapods may be seen at each corner of the
tower of the church on Commonwealth Avenue, with trumpets at their
mouths ; it is difficult to see how the wings in this case add anything
but the ludicrous.

No permanence of embryonic conditions — no excess of growth, no
union of parts of more than one individual — can explain or justify these

THE MONSTROUS IN ART. 741

and similar monsters ; and surely no rules of art can demand the con-
tinued perpetration of such absurdities, in painting or sculpture, even
as symbols.

In my opinion, then, there can be no high art, as there is no truth
and no real significance, in external forms unknown to anatomy and
physiology ; truth in art must not be divorced from truth in science,
nor the truly beautiful from nature. The exterior should translate, as
it were, the interior ; and, whether we study the human or the animal
figure, from the point of view of surgery, art, or philosophical anatomy,
the natural type, the laws of structure and growth, the correlation and
the organic harmony of parts, should in every case lie at the foundation.
The idealism of ancient art is, I believe, a pretense of the moderns ;
their ideal is the real, magnified by the imagination. The modern
ideal of much that is considered high art is too often the impossible, the
absurd, the monstrous, the incomprehensible.

The conscientious and real artist, though he may be ignorant of,
despises not anatomy ; it is only the superficial and the conceited who
fancy that it is a laudable and independent spirit which allows imagina-
tion, under the pretense of symbolism, unguided by knowledge, to dic-
tate the rules of art. Albert Dilrer, Leonardo da Vinci, Jean Cousin,
were well versed in anatomy ; it would have been better had the genius
and imagination of Raphael and other great artists been tempered by
an accurate knowledge of the real.

Herbert Spencer says, " Only when genius is married to science can
the highest results be achieved " ; to which Mr. Benjamin adds, in his
essay already quoted, " But such science should be the intense study
of nature even more than of art."

In our day, when reason is supreme, the thinking world can not be
made to believe ihaX progress means eml, even though it modify ideas
of things once considered sacred and beyond reason ; and any belief,
practice, sentiment, or influence, which can not bear the light of reason,
and hence can not be said to be founded on truth, deserves to be re-
moved as a bar to human progress.

It has been said, and no doubt truly, that as knowledge increases,
the imagination (decreases ; in such an event our ideal will soon be-
come the real, without exaggeration, and nature and art will no longer
be divorced, even in appearance. Increasing intelligence is the great
and never-ceasing iconoclast which breaks to pieces the images created
by imperfect knowledge of facts.

This is about the sum of the arguments in favor of symbols, once
suggestive of the good and the sacred, but since proved to be fallacious
and founded on error, namely, that those who originated and used them
for purposes of good believed them .to be true and beautiful, and there-
fore that for all time, or at the present time, they are worthy of imita-
tion and belong in the realm of high art.

Must we, then, give up our saints, angels, and devils, and other

742 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

venerable, beautiful, and ugly monsters in art, so endeared by childish
memories and fears ? United to and supported by ignorance and blind
belief, they stood as truths in the infancy of the race ; separated from
these, and subjected to the light of reason and knowledge, they fall
from our acceptance as beliefs, and from the highest sphere of art,
tvhere nature and truth should henceforth be the grand aims of the
artist.

Should any object that following strictly the laws of nature will
have a tendency to lower the aspirations of the artist, we may refer to
a sister science in defense of our position. The signs of the times have
convinced many a timid but reasoning soul that fidelity to truth and
nature can never injure religion, however much it may shatter ideal
theologies ; nor in art can it injure anything but the false and the tem-
porary— the grand underlying principles resting on the basis of eternal
truth. Are we not justified, then, in saying, " The essentially beautiful
must be in nature ; it can not be beyond it, above it, nor below it ; the
merely ideal inform can have no real existence in the mind of man " ?

-♦♦♦-

:n^ew guinea and its inhabitants.

By ALFEED EUSSEL WALLACE.

I.

IMMEDIATELY north of Australia, and separated from it at Torres
Straits by less than a hundred miles of sea, is the largest island on
the globe — New Guinea, a country of surpassing interest, whether as
regards its natural productions or its 'human inhabitants, but which re-
mains to this day less known than any accessible portion of the earth's
surface. Within the last few years considerable attention has been
attracted toward it by surveys which have completed our knowledge of
its outline and dimensions, by the settlement of English missionaries
on its southern coasts, by the explorations of several European natu-
ralists, and by the visits of Australian miners attracted by the alleged
discovery of gold in the sands of its rivers. From these various
sources there has resulted a somewhat sudden increase in our still
scanty knowledge of this hitherto unknown land ; and we therefore
propose to give a general sketch of the island and of the peculiar
forms of life that inhabit it, and to discuss briefly some of the interest-
ing problems connected with its indigenous races.

It has hitherto been the custom of geographers to give the palm to
Borneo as the largest island in the vorld, but this is decidedly an error.
A careful estimate, founded on the most recent maps, shows that New
Guinea is considerably the larger, and must for the future be accorded
the first place. In shape this island differs greatly from Borneo, being

NEW GUINEA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 743

irreo-ular and mucli extended in a north-northwest and south-southeast
direction, so that its greatest length is little short of 1,500 miles, a dis-
tance as great as the whole width of Australia from Adelaide to Port
Darwin, or of Europe from London to Constantinople. Its greatest
width is 410 miles ; and, omitting the great peninsulas which form its
two extremities, the central mass is about 700 miles long, with an aver-
age width of 320 miles, a country about the size of the Austrian Em-
pire, and, with the exception of the course of one large river, an abso-
lute blank upon our maps.

This almost total ignorance is the more remarkable when we con-
sider how long the country has been known, and how frequently its
shores have been visited. It was discovered in 1511, even earlier than
Australia; and from that time Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, French, and
English vessels have continually passed along its coasts. Most of our
early navigators — Forrest, Dampier, and Cook — visited New Guinea,
and have given us some account of its inhabitants; while, more re-
cently, many exploring and surveying ships — the Coquille and Astro-
labe, under French ; the Rattlesnake, Fly, and Basilisk, under English ;
the Triton and Etna, under Dutch commanders — have added to our
store of information. Among private naturalists and explorers, the
present writer was the first to reside some months in New Guinea in
1858 ; since which time Dr. Miklucho Maclay, a Russian ; Dr. Beccari
and Signor d'Albertis, Italians ; Dr. A. B. Meyer, a German ; Mr. Oc-
tavius C. Stone, and several English missionaries — have all made im-
portant explorations and added much to our knowledge of the natural
productions of the island and of the tribes residing on or near its
coasts.

From these various sources we have obtained a tolerable knowledge
of the outside margin of the country, but never extending more than
twenty miles inland, except in the case of the Fly River, which Signor
d'Albertis ascended for nearly 500 miles, reaching a point somewhat
beyond the center of the island. The northwestern and southwestern
peninsulas of New Guinea are the best-known portions, and both seem
to be mountainous throughout. In the north, Mount Arfak, a little be-
yond Dorey Harbor, is from 8,000 to 10,000 feet high, while in the
southeast the Owen Stanley Range has several peaks which reach eleva-
tions of from 10,000 to 13,000 feet. The Charles Louis Mountains, com-
mencing near the south coast, east of Triton Bay, appear to run far in
a southeasterly direction, and their summits are believed to be snow-
clad, and are probably at least 18,000 feet high. If they continue east-
ward in the same general direction they would pass about 100 miles to
the north of D'Albertis's farthest point on the Fly River, and perhaps
form a great curve till they merge in the Owen Stanley Range in the
southeast. This, however, is mere conjecture, for throughout the whole
course of the Fly River the land was low, and only on one occasion
were high mountains seen to the northwest. Combining this with the

744 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

fact that for a length of nearly 700 miles the south coast of New Guin-
ea is low and swampy, with no high land anywhere visible, we are led
to conclude that there is probably a continuous range of lofty moun-
tains toward the north, while the south consists of wide alluvial tracts
and of slightly elevated inland plains. This part of the island would
thus somewhat resemble Sumatra turned round, but with higher moun-
tains, which are probably not volcanic, and with a considerably greater
width of land.

Although the Fly River penetrates so far into the interior, its size
and depth in its upper portion are by no means what we should expect
in a stream fed by a lofty movmtain range close to the equator. It is
therefore almost certain that larger rivers exist farther west ; while an-
other large river certainly flows northward, having its mouth in a delta
at the eastern extremity of Geelvink Bay. Until these rivers are ex-
plored, and at least the lower slopes of the hills ascended, we can not
be said to have much real knowledge of the interior of New Guinea.

Situated close to the equator, and extending only eleven degrees
south of it, the climate of New Guinea is hot and uniform, and the
rains abundant ; leading here, as elsewhere in similar situations, to the
growth of a luxuriant forest vegetation, which clothes hill and valley
with an ever-verdant mantle. ■ Onlj' on the coasts nearest to Australia,
and probably influenced by the dry winds from that continent, are
there any open or thinly wooded spaces, and here alone do we find
some approach to the Australian type of vegetation in the occurrence
of numerous eucalypti and acacias. Everywhere else, however, even
in the extreme southeast peninsula and adjacent islands, the vegetation
is essentially Malayan ; but Dr. Beccari, who collected plants exten-
sively in the northwestern peninsula and its islands, was disappointed,
both as regards its variety and novelty. On the Arfak Mountains,
however, he found a very interesting subalpine or temperate flora, con-
sisting of araucarias, rhododendrons, vacciniums, umbelliferJB, and the
antarctic genus Drimys. The forests of New Guinea are everywhere
grand and luxuriant, rivaling those of Borneo and Brazil in the beauty
of their forms of vegetable life ; and we can not consider the collec-
tions yet made as affording more than very imperfect samples of the
treasures they contain.

The animal life of this great island is better known, and is perhaps
more interesting. Its terrestrial mammalia are, however, singularly
few, and, with the exception of a peculiar kind of wild pig, all belong
to the marsupial tribe or the still lower monotremes of Australia. The
tigers, apes, and buffaloes, described in the fictitious travels of Captain
Lawson, are here as much out of their real place as they would be in
the Highlands of Scotland ; while the tracks of large animals, supposed
to be rhinoceros or wild cattle, actually discovered by recent travelers,
are now ascertained to be those of the cassowary, which, so far as we
yet know, is the largest land-animal of New Guinea. Large birds

NEW GUINEA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 745

were also seen and heard, whose spread of wing was estimated at six-
teen or twenty feet, and which beat the air with a sound compared to
the puff of a locomotive ; but these are found to be only a well-known
hornbill of very moderate dimensions. In place of these myths, how-
ever, we have some very interesting realities, the most remarkable, per-
haps, being the tree-clim.bing kangaroos of rather large size, which,
although but slightly different in external form from the jumping
ground-kangaroos of Australia, hop about among the larger branches
of trees, on the leaves of which they feed. They have a bushy tail,
with somewhat shorter hind legs and more curved claws than their
allies ; and they afford a curious example of the adaptation of an animal
to new conditions of life very different from those for which its general
form and structure seem to fit it. Such a modification may, perhaps,
be traced to a somewhat recent separation of Australia and New Guin-
ea, when the kangaroos which remained in the latter country, not find-
ing a sufficiency of herbage for their support in the dense forests, began
to feed upon leaves, and ultimately became adapted, with as little
change as possible, to a truly arboreal life. The entire absence of
beasts of prey would favor this adaptation, as the coincident acquisition
of swiftness of motion or powers of concealment is thus rendered un-
necessary ; and the tree-kangaroo accordingly remains a slow-moving
creature, just able to get its own living, but in all probability quite
unable to cope either with enemies or competitors.

The birds, like the mammalia, are mostly of Australian types, but
nevertheless present many peculiarities. Most celebrated of all are the
birds of paradise, forming a distinct family, containing more than twen-
ty-five different species, all confined to this island and the immediately
surrounding lands. These singular birds are really allied to our crows
and magpies, but are remarkable for their special and varied develop-
ments of plumage. In most cases tufts of feathers spring from the
sides of the body or breast, forming fans, or shields, or trains of ex-
treme beauty. Others have glossy mantles or arched plumes over the
back, strange crests on the head, or long and wire-like tail-feathers.
These varied appendages exhibit corresponding varieties of color. The
long trains of waving plumes are golden yellow or rich crimson, the
breast-shields, mantles, and crests are often of the most intense metallic
blue or green, while the general body plumage is either a rich choco-
late brown or deep velvety black. All these birds are exceedingly
active and vivacious, the males meeting together in rivalry to display
their gorgeous plumage, while in every case the female birds are unor-
namented, and are usually plain or positively dingy in their coloring.
From an unknown antiquity the natives of New Guinea have been ac-
customed to preserve the skins of these beautiful birds, and barter
them with the Malay traders, by whom they are universally known as
" burong mati," or dead birds, because they had never seen them alive.
As the natives used always to cut off the feet in order to preserve them
VOL. XIV. — 48

746 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

more easily, the Malay and Chinese traders concluded that they had
none ; and all sorts of stories were told about their living continually
on the wing, and being, in fact, birds of heaven, whence originated the
names of " birds of paradise " and " birds of the sun " given them by
the early Portuguese and Dutch writers. Down to 1760 the skins of
these birds never reached Europe with feet attached to them, and the
great Linnaeus recorded the fact by naming the largest kind Paradisea
apoda, or footless bird of paradise, a name by which it is still known
among men of science. The natives also generally cut off the wings,
so as to give greater prominence to the ornamental feathers ; and this
gives the birds an altogether different appearance from what they really
possess in a living state, or when properly preserved.

By far the greater number of these birds, and those of the richest
colors and most remarkable plumage, live on the mainland of New
Guinea, and they are especially abundant in the mountains of the
northwestern peninsula, where the Italian and German naturalists
already referred to obtained fine specimens of all the known kinds.
In the southeast one new species has been discovered, but only two or
three sorts are found there ; and as they are also in little variety in
the lowland districts of the northwest, it becomes pretty certain that
they are more especially mountain birds. We may therefore confi-
dently expect that, when the great ranges of the interior are visited
and explored by naturalists, other and perhaps still more wonderful
species will be discovered. It is interesting to note that, with the
exception of one very peculiar species discovered by myself in the
Moluccas, all the birds of paradise are found within the hundred-fath-
om line around New Guinea, and therefore on lands which have prob-
ably been connected with it at a comparatively recent period.

Why such wonderful birds should have been developed here and
nowhere else is a mystery we shall perhaps never completely solve ;
but it is probably connected with the absence of the higher types of
mammalia, and with the protection afforded by luxuriant equatorial
forests. The only other country in which similar strange developments
of plumage and equally superb colors are found is equatorial America,
where somewhat similar conditions prevail, and where mammalia of a
low grade of organization have long predominated. Whatever may be
the causes at work, their action has not been restricted to the paradise-
birds. Nowhere else in the world are pigeons and parrots so numer-
ous and so beautiful as in New Guinea. The great crowned pigeons,
the largest of the whole family and rivaling the largest game-birds,
were first described by Dampier as " a stately land-fowl about the size
of the dunghill cock, sky-colored, but with a white blotch and reddish
spots about the wings, and a long bunch of feathers on the crown."
Many of the fruit-doves are strikingly beautiful, being adorned with
vivid patches of crimson, blue, or yellow, on a pure green ground.
Parrots are wonderfully varied, including the great black and the white

NEW GUINEA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 747

cockatoos; the lories, varied with crimson and purple, green, yellow,
and black; while there are strange little crested green parrots no larger
than our blue tit — the smallest of the parrot tribe, as the great black
cockatoos are the largest. Kingfishers, too, are remarkably abundant,
and include several of the fine raquet-tailed species, with plumage of
silvery blue, and with white or crimson breasts. Many other groups
of birds are also adorned with exceptionally gay colors ; and a careful
comparison with the birds of other countries shows that nowhere in
the world is there so large a proportion of the whole number of species
adorned with brilliant hues. Among insects the same thing occurs,
though not in quite so marked a degree ; yet the superior beauty of
many groups of beetles over the corresponding groups in Borneo is
very distinct ; and the same is to some extent the case with the butter-
flies and moths.

Independently of the beauty and singularity, the great number of
species of birds inhabiting New Guinea is very remarkable. Consider-
ing that there are no resident collectors in the island, and that oar
knowledge is wholly derived from travelers who have spent a few
weeks or months on the extreme northern or southern coasts only,
leaving the great mass of the interior wholly unexplored, the number of
land-birds already known (about four hundred species) is surprising.
It is very much greater than the numbers inhabiting the whole of the
West Indian Islands, or Madagascar, or the large, rich, and compara-
tively well-explored island of Borneo. Even Australia, so much more
extensive and so varied in climate and vegetation, has only four hun-
dred and eighty-five land-birds ; and when we consider that the cen-
tral mass of New Guinea, with its lofty mountain ranges and fine up-
land valleys, yet remains absolutely unexplored, it is not improbable
that the birds of this wonderful island may be eventually found to be
as numerous as those of its parent continent. We may therefore safely
assert that in no part of the world has the naturalist such a certainty
of making new and important discoveries as in the still unexplored
regions of central New Guinea.

The peculiar race of mankind inhabiting this great island attracted
the attention of the earliest voyagers, and the country was called New "
Guinea from the resemblance of its inhabitants to the negroes of Africa,
removed from them by nearly one third the circumference of the globe.
The early Avriters, however, term the people Papuas or Papuans, a
Malay term given to them on account of their woolly hair, so different
from the perfectly straight hair of almost all the other Eastern races.
The Malay word " papuwah " or " puah-puah " means frizzled like wool ;
and the Malaj's still call these people "orang papuwah " — woolly -haired
men, and the island itself " tana papuwah " — the land of the woolly-
haired.

It is a very remarkable fact that woolly-haired people should be

748 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

found ia two such widely separated areas, and, with very few excep-
tions, nowhere else in the world. In Africa they occupy the larger
portion of the continent, extending over all the tropical and southern
regions ; while in the East they are found only in a group of islands of
which New Guinea is the center, extending westward as far as Flores
and eastward to the Feejees. There are also a few outlying groups
of woolly-haired people, which are of great importance as indicating
that this type once had a wider extension than now. In the Pacific we
have the now extinct Tasmanians ; and far to the east, in the midst of
the brown Polynesians, we find the inhabitants of Penrhyn's Island and
Mangaia, in about 158° west longitude, to be of the Melanesian or dark
race. In the Philippines there is an aboriginal race of woolly-haired
dwarfs — the Aetas or Negritos; and a similar descriptive term may be
applied to the Semangs of the Malay Peninsula, and to the natives of
the Andaman Islands in the bay of Bengal. These various Eastern
tribes differ among themselves quite as much as do those of Africa.
Both agree, however, in being usually very dark-skinned, and examples
may be found in which negroes and Papuans are in all respects very
much alike. But this is exceptional, and there is almost always a
characteristic difference which would cause most of the Eastern negroes
to appear out of place on the continent of Africa. The woolly hair,
however, combined with the dark skin and almost always with a doli-
chocephalic or long skull, so markedly distinguishes all these people
from the rest of the inhabitants of the globe, that it is impossible not to
look upon them as being really related to each other, and as represent-
ing an early variation if not the primitive type of mankind, which once
spread widely over all the tropical portions of the eastern hemisphere.
Successive incursions of the lighter-colored, smooth-haired races seem
to have exterminated them in man}' of the areas they once inhabited,
while in some widely scattered spots a few scanty remnants continue to
exist. Two important groups, however, remain predominant in regions
very far apart, but each well suited to their vigorous development. The
negro of Africa has been made the servant of the more civilized races
from the earliest periods of history, and is better known to us than any
other uncivilized people ; while the Papuan or Melanesian, inhabiting a
group of tropical islands on the other side of the globe, still remains
a mere shadowy name to the great majority of English readers. We
proceed now to point out the chief physical and mental characteristics,
habits, and customs of this interesting race as it exists in New Guinea,
with occasional references to such modifications of it as occur in the
other islands.

We now possess trustworthy descriptions of the Papuans as they
exist at numerous localities scattered all round the extensive island
they inhabit ; and the substantial agreement of these descriptions
renders it pretty certain that all belong to one race, exhibiting, it is
true, considerable variations, and occasionally presenting undoubted

NEW GUINEA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 749

signs of intermixture with other races, but always showing a decided
predominance of true Papuan characteristics. In stature they present
a medium between the short Malays and tall Polynesians, the average
height varying at different parts of the coast from five feet two to five
feet eight inches. Some tribes in the interior are believed to be as
dwarfish as the Negritos of the Philippines, while others are nearly
equal to the tall Feejeeans, who are often considerably over six feet high.
They are strong and muscular, but rather less finely formed than many
of the Malayan and Polynesian tribes. Their color is usually a choco-
late-brown, sometimes almost black, at others almost as light as some
of the Malays. It is, however, by their features that they are best
distinguished from all other races of men, and especially by the form
and size of the nose. This is always large and long, usually arched as in
the Jewish type, and, when well developed, with the extremity so length-
ened as to hide the nostrils and overhang the upper lip. This peculiar
characteristic is found more or less developed everywhere round the
coast of New Guinea, so that almost every traveler speaks of the
" Jewish features " — the " aquiline " or " arched " or " very prominent "
noses — or makes use of other similar expressions, clearly showing that
this is the typical Papuan feature, a fact which is further demonstrated
by the unmistakable though exaggerated manner in which it is rep-
resented in all their images and carvings. The nose is also very thick
and coarse, as is the case in almost all savage races ; the alse are very
oblique, and the base is much depressed between the eyes, a character
which reaches its maximum in the natives of New Caledonia and the
New Hebrides, .though the nose itself is with them somewhat shorter.
The forehead is rather flat and retreating, the mouth large, and the lips
full but not excessively thick ; nor is there any marked prognathism.
The combination of these peculiarities in various degrees produces
faces which are sometimes ugly and savage-looking, while others have
so much the character of the Jew or Arab as to be really handsome.
Comparing Papuans with typical negroes of equatorial Africa we find
a radical difference in the small flat nose and very prominent jaws of
the latter. In the South African races this difference is less pronounced.
The Bechuanas and Natal Caffres have less prognathism and a straighter,
better-formed nose, but this organ is always shorter and less arched than
in the Papuan. The Hottentots have often well-formed features and
sometimes have a considerable resemblance to the less typical Melane-
sians. The greatest resemblance, however, is to be found between the
Negritos of the Philippines — who have short flat noses and somewhat
projecting jaws — and some of the dwarfish tribes of Central Africa.

The Papuan contrasts strongly with Malays and Polynesians in
being hairy -bodied and tolerably well bearded, but still more so by the
wonderfully luxuriant growth of the hair of the head, which forms a dense
mop often projecting six or eight inches from the skull. It is crisp,
glossy, and very elastic, and each separate hair naturally curls itself up

750 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

into a spiral of small diameter. The degree of twist and consequent
woolliness of the hair seems to be dependent on its being oval or flat-
tened instead of cylindrical. In the straight-haired races and in most
Europeans the hair has a circular section, which becomes slightly oval
where it is naturally curly ; but in the negro and Papuan it is much
flattened, and has besides irregular wavy margins, which seem to pro-
duce the strong spiral twist. Those who possess a large mop of hair
are very proud of it, keeping it continually combed out with a kind of
bamboo fork, and using a narrow wooden pillow on which to rest the
nape of the neck, so as to preserve the hair from being squeezed out of
shape. It was long thought that the hair of these people possessed a
pecuhar character in growing in separate small tufts scattered uniformly
over the scalp ; but more accurate examination shows that it grows
evenly over the surface of the head, and that the tufted appearance prob-
ably arises from the tendency of the spirally twisted hairs to mat to-
gether in small, curly locks. The hair on the body and limbs, though
very short, has the same appearance and a similar structure.

The dress of these people is very scanty, the men wearing the usual
T-bandage of bark-cloth, but in some cases only a shell, or even going
absolutely naked ; while the women always wear some kind of girdle
from which is suspended a small apron of bark or a fringe of leaves. As
with most savages, ornament is more attended to than dress, and is
more used by the men than by the women. They often pierce the sides
of the nose, sticking in them pieces of bone, feathers, or tusks of the wild
pig. The ears are also pierced, and either shell ear-rings are worn, or
sticks ornamented with feathers are stuck through the lobes. Necklaces
of teeth or shells are common, and heavy rings of white shell or plaited
bands of grass or palm-leaf are worn on the arms. The hair of the men
is always carefully attended to. It is combed with a kind of bamboo
fork with four or five prongs, and this is usually kept stuck in it both
for convenience and ornament. Some tribes cut and trim or plait the
mop of hair into various helmet-like or other fantastic shapes, and all
adorn it with combs, sticks, or feather ornaments. Suspended from
the neck they often wear a small carved Avooden figure with the Papuan
features greatly exaggerated. As they freely part with these, they are
probably mere ornaments or charms rather than idols or fetiches. Reg-
ular tattooing is unknown, except on the southeastern peninsula where
there is an infusion of Polynesian blood, but most of the men have
raised marks produced artificially. These generally consist of a few short
parallel lines on the arms or breast, and are said to be formed by gashes
made with a sharp stone or bamboo, and the subsequent application of
fire to make the skin swell up and leave a prominent scar. Painting
the body is not generally practiced, but some kind of stain producing a
blue-black tinge has often been observed. — Contemporary Meview.

EXPERIMEN-TS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 751
EXPEKIME]S"TS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS.

By GEORGE M. BEARD, M. D.

II.

IN experimenting with living human beings, deception, whether vol-
untary or involuntary, can only be scientifically met by deception ; it
must be beaten with its own weapons. No experiment of this kind in
which the results depend in any way on the honesty of the subjects ex-
perimented on can be of any value in science ; and those who assume
that, because the subjects of these experiments are members of great
churches, and move in high society, they are therefore incapable of un-
truth, would do well to resign the task of investigations of this sort to
those who are better endowed with the scientific sense. Systematic^
orderly, exhaustive deception, on the part of the experimenter, as here
suggested, will, in all cases, exclude both intended and unintended de-
ception on the part of the subject or bystanders.

Sixth Soukce of Erkob : Chance and coincidences. — The subject
of chance and coincidences seems never to have received the attention
from men of science that its direct and practical bearings on experiment-
al research and the principles of evidence would long ago have demand-
ed. On the mathematical side the philosophy of chance has been inves-
tigated and discussed by various writers, and with not a little intelligence
and skill ; but with the effect also of misleading many amateur experi-
menters and reasoners, who have thereby been tempted to employ mathe-
matical estimates in departments of science Avhere they are sure to guide
into error. No forms of error are so erroneous as those that have the
appearance without the reality of mathematical precision. Of this sort
are the blunders of those physiologists who, at various times and under
various guises, have sought to solve physiological problems by experi-
ments half built up on rigid mathematical calculations, the other half
having no foundation at all ; for the average non-expert observer is awed
and overpowered by the very sight of figures, and assumes that an
investigation into which addition, subtraction, and multiplication enter,
must inevitably lead to precise and unerring results, forgetting that, as
quantitative truth is of all forms of truth the most absolute and satis-
fying, so quantitative error is of all forms of error the most complete
and illusory. Figures, to be of arty value in science, must go all around
the subject and thoroughly embrace it, else they fail to master i+, and
become its possessor : for, while the truth is apparently shut xw on one
side, it is all the time stealthily escaping at the other. Thus it is that
the most acute calculators, most logical reasoners, and most accurate
observers as well, are so often cheated out of the truths to the search
for which their lives are devoted; the instincts of the plow-boy often
outstripping the wisdom of the philosopher.

752 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Among this class of scientific blunders is the custom of applying
the calculations of chances to experiments with living human beings.
Thus in the now well-known mind-reading performances it was averred
that by a mathematical calculation there would be but one chance in
several hundred thousand of finding any object in a house or hall or
assemblage ; hence it was inferred that a new force, or manifestation of
force, had been revealed to the world. The fallacies in this philosophy
do not require a very long search ; of the many objects in any house, or
indeed in any public building, but a small minority would be accessible
in any mind-reading test, and of these few only a limited number are
of a sufficiently positive nature and description to be thought of by the
subject of such experiments 5 then, in addition, are all the errors that
come from intentional and unintentional assistance of audiences and by-
standers.

Practically the only way to eliminate, in a scientific manner, the
error of chance or coincidence in all experiments of that character, is by
making comparative experiments in the same line, with all the sources
of error closed except chance, and to repeat these a sufficient number
of times to make an absolute domonstration. In this way it was shown
that mind-reading, so called, was really muscle-reading. In these and
in all studies of like character it is to be recognized that coincidences
of the most extraordinary and astonishing nature are liable to occur at
any instant, and that they are as likely to occur on the first trial as on
the last of a long series. To deterRiine whether any conjunction of
events is simple coincidence, or the result of some new fact or law in
science, is possible oftentimes only through a series of comparative ex-
periments. In the researches which I made in muscle-reading it was
shown over and over that by pure chance alone — every other element
of error being excluded — the blindfold subject would, under certain
conditions, find the object looked for in* one case and sometimes in two
cases out of twelve.

It would seem that the errors from chance and coincidence were the
most patent of all the errors that complicate and confound scientific in-
vestigation, and so clear even to the unskilled and unthinking mind, that
trained investigators would never be deluded by them. But in practice
it vitiates the research and the philosophizing of educated men, even more
perhaps than any other of the six, excepting the involuntary action of
mind on body which, as we have seen, has been the stone of stumbling
for physiologists ever since physiolog;f was introduced into science.

Hay-fever, for half a century and more, has supplied an unusual
richness of material for false reasoning of a similar type. An English
physician, a victim of this disorder, notices that he is worse as he
crosses a field of grass, and concludes that at last he has found the one
source of the mystery, and so gives the affection a misleading name
which it can never lose ; Helmholtz, a leader both in physics and physi-
ology, puts the nasal secretions under the microscope, discovers some

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 753

unexpected infusoria that are killed by quinine, and announces to the
world in one breath a theory of the disease and a specific for its cure,
without apparently suspecting, what is now known, that the presence of
infusoria might be a coincidence or effect and not a cause.

To all this it may be said that practically we do find out the true
value of medicines and their objective action on the human body with--
out systematically eliminating any of the six elements of error here
pointed out. This is to be allowed ; but the admission of the fact re-
quires also an explanation of the way in which these errors are in prac-
tice actually eliminated, although unintentionally and unsystematically,
and I may say also, most unscientificalh'.

It is by an immense number of experiments or trials on a large vari-
ety of cases, at different times, by different observers, and under vary-
ing conditions, that medical science has been able, after centuries of
doubt and struggle, to arrive at some few real scientific facts in regard
to the action of medicines. If these six elements of error had, from the
first, been everywhere recognized and comprehended and systematically
guarded against, the process of finding the truth in this department
might have been abridged by hundreds of years. The method by which,
in practice, physicians learn the action of any new remedy, is to give it
to a number of cases, and then to watch and report the results ; another
physician repeats the experiments on a difi"erent set of cases ; he also
notes the results : and this process goes on perhaps for years, until in
lapse of time the profession, without being able to give precise and con-
vincing reasons for their faith, slowly and instinctively settles down to
the persuasion that the effects claimed for the remedy are genuine, and
act accordingly.

In many instances they are right in this conclusion ; but how awk-
wardly and in what a roundabout way, and through what useless and
wearying toil, have they, in dou*bt and distrust and suspicion, finally
reached that goal ! All the trials with the remedy, from beginning to
end, have been impaired in scientific value by some one or all of the six
elements of error ; but through the immensity and variety of the experi-
ments, extending through a long period, these errors have been uncon-
sciously and unwittingly eliminated, so that only the solid fact is left.
Tliis unconscious elimination or rather leaving behind of errors, after
the analogy of the formation of the universe according to tlie nebular
hypothesis, takes place in this manner : In the first hundred cases
treated there will be perhaps one of two, or more, who have no faith in
and no expectation from it, good or bad ; these few obtain the real ob-
jective effects of the remedy, while all the others deceive, more or less,
themselves and their physician. In subsequent experiments by other
observers, some of whom perhaps are less hopeful than the original inves-
tigator, the same unconscious and irregular elimination takes place, until
the objective power of the remedy may for all practical needs be regard-
ed as established. Such is the history and philosophy of medical experi-

754 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mentation in all ages and with all schools of medicine I claim that by
the rigid following out of the principles here taught it will be possible
for even the humblest member of the profession to take any new remedy,
and, if a sufficient number of cases be provided, to accurately determine
some points at least of its therapeutic value, if it really possesses any
that are capable of being demonstrated to the senses or reason of man.
It is the unconscious or unformulated apprehension of these errors in
the working up of remedies that causes so many of the profession to take
at certain periods of their lives the extreme and unscientific view that
all medication is a mistake — that drugs have no power outside of the
mind of the one who takes them — and consequently, and logically, to
trust only to the forces of nature and hygiene.

In relation to this branch of our theme, it is worthy of note that
there are certain modes of treating disease which from the very nature
and manner of their employment can not be experimented with in a
truly scientific way ; it is impossible to use them so as to deceive the
patient on whom they are used ; of necessity, therefore, they must be
developed by the process of successive eliminations already described.
Among the medical procedures of this class are hydro-therapeutics or
hydropathy, electro-therapeutics, and massage, or systematized rubbing,
kneading, and manipulation ; none of these remedial operations can be
used without the patient's knowledge ; none of them can be used in a
different way from what the patient supposes they are being used ; they
are open, in clear sight, and affect the various senses so strikingly that
satisfactory deception is impossible ; patients know when they are
being galvanized or faradized; they know when they are washed or
showered; they know when they are rubbed and kneaded; no art or
device of the phj'sician can avail to so deceive them as to absolutely
eliminate the error that comes from the hope or fear or expectation of
what the treatment is to accomplish. The practical value of these
methods of treatment — and they are all of undoubted value — could only
be ascertained, as it has been ascertained, by the immense variety of
the experiments that have been made with them, wherein through the
process of time the six sources of error have been little by little elimi-
nated.

In all new remedies and systems of treatment the aim of the scien-
tific physician should be to make the deception so thorough that what-
ever effects are obtained must be known positively to be the objective
action of the treatment or of nature. The criticism which I make on
Burq, Charcot, and others, who have recently experimented with the
action of metals of different kinds on the an.'esthesia of hysterical pa-
tients, is that they left the question open when, by a systematic, or-
derly, and thorough provision against these six sources of error, they
had it in their power, with the vast material at their command, to have
absolutely closed it ; if they could not determine with certainty whether
the temporary disappearance of the anaesthesia on the application of

EXPERIMENTS WITH LIVING HUMAN BEINGS. 755

plates of copper or silver or gold was the result of feeble electrical cur-
rents excited, or of simple mechanical pressure, or of absorption, they
could surely have answered, to the satisfaction of scientific men, the
question whether it was to be explained subjectively or objectively ;
but this, through want of appreciation of the sources of error, or from
want of a formula to guide them in their elimination, they failed to do.
Even though it should be proved, as it may be, that some of these phe-
nomena observed by Burq, and Charcot, and Westphal are objective,
and independent of the expectation of the persons operated on, the
validity of this criticism is thereby not at all affected. To attempt to
build up a practice of metal-therapeutics on the basis of metalloscopy
as that claim now stands, is like putting up a house before we are sure
of our foundations. The first question to decide is whether metal-thera-
peutics is or is not really mental-therapeutics.

In the illustrations for this essay I have chosen, by preference, the
experiments of scientific men of skill, honor, and distinction, and for
the same reason that Blair, in his work on rhetoric, refers, for examples
of incorrectness, inelegance, and carelessness of style, only to the writ-
ings of the greatest masters of style in the language : if these things
be done in the green trees, what shall be done in those that are utterly
dry ? The average scientist, the every-day physician, the followers, the
gleaners and popularizers of knowledge, are expected to blunder and
teach but half truths, if not positive error ; but if all those who should be
our experts fail us, where can we look for clear ideas ? It is no overplus
of enthusiasm, no fancy of rhetoric, to say that if these six sources of
error and the true methods of providing for them had been mastered
half a century ago, the history of scientific experimenting during that
time would have been radically diflPerent from what it now is.

On this subject no nation can throw stones at another ; in all the
great centers of modern civilization the strongest leaders of science
and scientific thought have been and are constantly demonstrating their
non-expertness in the art of experimenting with living human beings ;
the history of science, or the demonstrably true, and the history of de-
lusions, or the demonstrably false, run in the same channels ; but in the
minds of the French there appears to be some psychological peculiarity
that, while it urges them to undertake, at the same time unfits them
to succeed in researches of this character, their very genius for sci-
ence, as it relates to inanimate nature and the lower forms of life, pre-
disposing them to all error when dealing with living human creatures ;
hence the paradox of history that France is at once the home of
science and the home of delusions. Now, for almost a century, the
ablest philosophers and experimenters of France have been wrest-
ling with the problem how to experiment with living human beings ;
from the first committee of the French Academy on mesmerism,
through Perkinism and Burqism, down to the very latest bulletin of
Charcot on metalloscopy, it is one uniform, unbroken record of per-

756 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

severing non-expertness and failure : Science constantly baffled, beaten,
utterly overthrown, yet as often returning- to the hopeless contest,
vphere delusions always compel a drawn battle, if they do not posi-
tively win ; experiments without number that have the form of pre-
cision without its substance ; all truth, or even the suggestions of truth,
submerged in vast floods of error ; the faith that belongs to religion
and emotion carried into the realm of science and intellect ; all along
the line of strong endeavor an obvious want not only of the philosophy
but even of the instinct of seeking truth from living human beings — in
the whole history of folly one shall not find a more instructive chapter
than this ; were there no other proof of the limitations of the human
brain, sufficient could be found in this fruitless searching after truth on
the part of the most intellectual leaders, of the most intellectual of
nations, in the most intellectual era of the world. Not only during the
past year, in the hospital of Salpetriere, but, by recurring intervals,
during the past century, the best science of France has been on its
knees before hysterical women, and there it must remain until it has
mastered the true philosophy of trance and the involuntary life, and
learned by heart the sources of error.

The time must come when it shall be well understood that experi-
ments with living human beings, in which the elements of error are un-
recognized, are not only unscientific but are a satire on science ; bear-
ing the same relation to the true method of investigation in this special
department of physiology that the dreams of the mediaeval sages sus-
tained to the general philosophy of induction. The philosophy of the fu-
ture will be that the laws of nature are not to be put on the market, and
can not be bid off at auction, and that the long-standhig and unaccepted
financial prize of the French Academy for the one who should prove to
be endowed with clairvoyant or mind-reading power is as unscientific
and as puerile as to attempt the bribery of the law of the conservation
of force, or to hire the sun to rise in the west instead of the east.

During the past few years it has been my destiny to have been fre-
quently requested to carry out or to plan for others various experi-
mental researches with living human beings ; these requests have some-
times come from professional and scientific men who, in all dealings
with inanimate objects, are amply competent, both by instinct and by
reflection, to guard against all illusions and deceptions. It is my hope
and belief that this formal attemjot — ill perfected as it may be — will so
reduce this subject to a science as to bring it within the po'wer of all
physiologists to plan and to complete all such experiments for them-
selves, with ample confidence that the results will invariably be in har-
mony with the truth. The above analysis, in spite of its necessary con-
densation, will, it is hoped, make clear even to those who do not follow
all its details, that in this, as in every other realm of knowledge and
acquirement, success need not be the result of any special acuteness, or

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? -^^-j

cunning, or wisdom, but can be made the possession of any sober and
well-trained mind that has a sufficient endowment of the scientific sense
to recosrnize and submit to the inevitableness of law in all mental as in
all physical phenomena, and to subordinate, even in scientific research,
all feelincr and emotion to intellect and reason.

The relation of this subject to delusions is also of much interest, both
psychological and practical ; during the present century especially the
prevailing follies of civilization have received an unusual and unpre-
cedented dignity and strength from the non-expert experiments of sci-
entific men with living human beings. It is a part of the inconsistency
of ignorance, and one of the effects of long breathing the atmosphere
of superstition, that the apostles of the demonstrably false, while they
uniformly dread and oppose the advance of their natural enemy, organ-
ized knowledge, yet pray for and welcome all mistakes of scientific men,
either in experiment or philosophy, as so much addition to their capi-
tal ; the weapons with which delusionists of every name prefer to fight
their battles are forged in scientific armories ; trace any one of the rank
and overrunning superstitions of our day to its utmost radicle, and it
will surely lead to sources where vi^e are wont to look for light and truth
— to some great discovery which our chemists, our naturalists, our as-
tronomers, of fair and noble fame, have evolved, or are believed to have
evolved, out of experiments that they have made, or tried to make, with
living human beings ; to the laboratory of some physiologist even, who
forgets that the chief fact in human life is the involuntary life ; to some
logician and philosopher, who has yet to learn that the habit of trusting
the senses, though endorsed and inculcated in all the universities of the
world, is the source of half the ignorance and not a little of the suffering
of mankind.

■♦«»

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM?

DURING the second session of the Forty-fifth Congress, a great
amount of evidence bearing on the question whether or not it
would be wise to introduce the metric system into the United States
was brought forward. This evidence is given in reports, etc., from the
heads of the various executive departments, and the most important
bureaus of the Government, and it is likely to remain buried in the vast
mass of fugitive public documents known only by the "printer's num-
ber."

The editor has been at some pains to collect the scattered pieces
and reports, and to put them into a continuous if not a connected form,
with the object of making them available for reference in future. This it
seems amply worth while to do for various reasons ; chiefly because

758 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

these contributions to the solution of the really important question at
the head of this article have a unique and special value. They have
been written by officers high in position in the Government and entirely
free from prejudice. Their recommendations were not influenced by any
considerations as to their personal convenience, and their judgments
were based on the actual operations of their several departments. It
is somewhat singular, in examining their reports in detail, to find that
there is so little repetition. For these reasons it appears that no such
important additions to the literature of this subject have been made
for many years. In what follows, brevity has been studied, and omis-
sions have been freely made whenever possible, the object being to
present only the most important arguments. The bills introduced into
Congress are first given, and then follow the detailed reports of the
heads of executive departments. No attempt has been made to an-
swer the important questions considered, that having been left to the
reader.

Mr. Muldrow introduced on November 3, 1877, a bill "to promote
the establishment of the metric system of coinage in the gold coins of
the United States of America.

" W^hereas^ The metric sj'stem of coinage, based on the gramme as
the unit of weight, is now almost universally acknowledged to be the
best ; and —

" Whereas, Tlie gold coinage of the United States can be brought
into exact conformity with the metric system by a change amounting
to less than one third of one per centum : therefore —

" He it enacted, etc.. That the gold hereafter coined by the United
States shall contain, for each dollar of denominational value, one and
one half gramme of pure gold, and shall weigh, for each dollar, one
and two thirds gramme, the proportion of alloy to the entire weight
being thus kept as one to ten.

" Section 2. That such coins shall be legal tenders in payments
arising from contracts made at anytime after the 4th day of July, 1878.

" Sec. 3. That such coins shall have stamped upon them, in addition
to other devices, their weight in grammes, and the inscription, ' nine
tenths fine.' "

Mr. Maish introduced on January 25, 1878, a bill " to establish the
metric system in the post-offices and custom-houses of the United
States.

" Be it enacted, etc., That on and after January 1, 1879, for all pos-
tal purposes, fifteen grammes shall be substituted for half an ounce,
and so on in progression.

" Sec. 2. That on or before January 1, 1879, the Postmaster-Gen-
eral shall furnish all post-offices with postal balances denominated in
grammes of the metric system, at an expense," etc., etc.

" Sec. 3. That on and after Januarj^ 1, 1880, the metric system of
weights and measures, as legalized in section 3,569 of the Revised Stat-

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? 759

utes shall be obligatory in the assessment of duties on imported com-
modities in the custom-houses of the United States."

Mr. Stephens introduced, January 29, 1878, a bill "to enable im-
porters to use the metric weights and measures."

' " £e it enacted, etc., That the ad quantum duties upon all articles
imported from foreign countries which are invoiced according to the
weights and measures of the metric system shall be levied, collected,
and paid at rates appropriate to the weights and measures of said sys-
tem, that is to say :

" The rate per gramme shall be," etc. ...

" The rate per kilogramme shall be," etc. ...

" Section 2. That the quantity of weight, gauge, or measure stated
in the return of any weigher, ganger, or measurer employed in the ser-
vice of the custoQis revenue may be stated in metric denominations,"

Mr. Stephens introduced, March 29, 1878, a bill "to promote the
general use of the metric system."

" Whereas, The metric system of weights and measures has made
little progress in actual use, notwithstanding its gi'eat merits and its
authorization by law, by virtue of the act of Congress of July 27, 1876 ;
and —

" Whereas, It is believed to be capable of simplification, so as to
remove many impediments to its general use, yet retain its valuable
features, and so to promote the great and desirable reform contemplated
by the foregoing act : therefore —

"-5e it enacted, etc., That the use of the modified metric system, set
forth in the following tables marked A, be, and is hereby, authorized ;
the values of the metric units, so far as they are retained, remaining
unchanged, and the continued use of any system now permitted by law
not being prohibited, the true intent and meaning of this act being not
to enforce any particular system, but to provide for the public con-
venience by adaptation to its circumstances and exigencies,

" Sectiox 2. The metric system being capable of indefinite expan-
sion to suit the ever-enlarging uses of mankind in business and science,
the accompanying scale of units, names, and values is provided, marked
B, on the scale of ten and its powers, and the use of all and any of
them is hereby permitted and authorized.

A. — METRIC TABLES.

MEASURES OF LENGTH.

100 hairs make a nail.
100 nails make a metre.
1,000 metres make a kile.

MEASURES OP SURFACE.

10,000 square metres make a great acre.

760

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MEASURES OF BULK AND CAPACITY.

100 drops make a spoon.
100 spoons make a quart.
100 quarts make a cast.

MEASURES OF WEIGHT.

100 seeds make a corn.
100 corns make a nut.
100 nuts make a bi-pound or bip,
1,000 bips make a ton.

B.— TABLE OF METRIC UNITS.

MEASURES OF LENGTH.

Ratio to
next unit.

Metric name.

New name.

Value ii

English measure.

100,000.

Atom unit

Inch

Inch

Inch

Inch

Inch

Inch

Inches . . .
Inches . . .

Feet

Yards . . . .

Mile

Miles

Miles....
Miles.62,1.

0-0000000003C

10..

Heat wave

0-00003937

10..

Spider's web

.0-0003937

10.

Hair

....0-00393Y
0*03937

10..

Millimetre.. .
Centimetre...
Decimetre.. .

Metre

Decametre. . .
Hectometre. .
Kilometre. . .
Myriametre. .

Pin

10..

Nail

0-393*7

10..

Hand

3-937

10..

Metre

39-37

10..

Half-chain

32-809

10..

Bow-shot

..109-363

10..

Kilo

0'62138

1,000. .

Bi-league

. .6-2138

10,000..

Earth quadrant

6 213-8

Orbit unit

;8,200-

MEASURES OF SURFACE.

Ratio to
next unit.

Metric name.

New name.

Value in English measure.

100

100

Centare

Are

Hectare

Square metre

Square half-chain

Square yards 1-196

100

Great acre

Acres. . . . 2-47114

Square kilo

MEASURES OF BULK AND CAPACITY.

Ratio to
next unit.

Metric name.

New name.

Value Ln English' measure.

10

DroD. -riTT cubic inch

Cubic inch 0-0061

10

10

10

Millilitre

Centilitre

Decilitre ....

Litre

Decalitre.. . .
Hectolitre or

decistere. .
Kilolitre or

stere

Die = Nail cube, yg cubic inch.

Spoon, 1 cubic inch

Wineglass

Cubic inch 0-0610

Cubic inch 0 6102

Cubic inch 6-102378

10

10

Quart = hand cube

Pail

Cubic inch 61-023378

Pecks 1135

10

Cask

Wine-gallons 26-418635

I" Metre cube ■<

Cubic feet 35-31658

Or, bushels 283742

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? 761

WEIGHT.

Ratio to
next unit.

Metric name.

1,000...
10..,
10...
10...
10...
10...
10...
10...
10..
10...

Milligramme.
Centigramme
Decigramme.
Gramme ....
Decagramme.
Hectogramme
Kilogramme..
Myriagramme

Quintal

Millier or ton-
nefiu

New name.

Gas unit, tu oifTi grain . . . .
Seed = pin cube, y^u grain

Value in English measure.

Corn = drop, 1^ grain.

Die = nail cube

Nut, 3| ounces

Grain. .
Grain. .
Grain. .
Grains .
Grains .
Ounces.

, 0-000015
. 0-0154
, 0-1543
, 1-5432
.15-43235
, 3-5276

Bip = hand cube, 2^ pounds.

Ton.

Pounds 2-2046

Pounds 2,204-62125

This system is understood to be the invention of Mr. Samuel Bar-
NETT, of Washington, Georgia.

It is believed that no other bills were introduced in relation to the
metric system. It is perhaps worth while to quote a bill " proposing a
reward for a new foot-measure," as a sample of what may be laid before
Congress :

"-Be it enacted, etc., etc., That the Congress of the United States
of America will vote an appropriation, the same as a reward, to be paid
the American citizen who shall produce a new foot-measure which shall
divulge, in it, the truth of the meeting of parallel lines in exceeding
great length."

A resolution of the House of Repi'esentatives (November 6, 1877)
provided " that the heads of the executive departments be, and they
are hereby, requested to report to this House, at as early a date as prac-
ticable, what objections, if any, there are to making obligatory in all
governmental transactions the metrical system of weights and measures
whose use has been authorized in the United States by act of Congress ;
and also how long a preliminary notice should be given before such ob-
ligatory use can be introduced without detriment to the public service ;
and that they are also requested to state what objections there are, if
any, to making the metrical system obligatory in all transactions be-
tween individuals, and what is the earliest date that can be set for
the obligatory use of the metrical system throughout the United
States."

This resolution addressed directly the officers best qualified to judge
of the questions involved, and their answers are given below, abridged
when possible.

The Secretary of State reports : 1. That the obligatory use of the
metrical system, so far as the operations of the Department of State are
concerned, and especially its consular and commercial relations with
foreign governments, while of convenience and utility with respect to
those countries which have already adopted the metrical system to the
exclusion of all others, would be of no benefit with regard to those

VOL. XIT.^-49

762 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

countries which have not so adopted it, and would introduce detrimen-
tal confusion, in particular in its commercial relations with Great Brit-
ain and other countries where the system of weights and measures is
the same as that of the United States, with which countries the bulk of
our foreign commerce is at present carried on.

2. That should the obligatory use of the metrical system in govern-
mental transactions be enacted, two years' preliminary notice of the
change would suffice to bring the system into harmonious and uniform
use in this department and its dependencies abroad.

3. That the Department of State does not seem to the Secretary of
State to be in a position to express an authoritative opinion as to the
obligatory adoption of the metrical system in all transactions between
individuals, inasmuch as its relations directly with the people of the
United States are not of a character to be either beneficially or injuri-
ously affected by the suggested change. He ventures to remark, how-
ever, that even in those countries, like France, where the system has
been obligatory beyond the memory of the present generation, the tra-
dition of the old system clings among the people and defies complete
eradication ; and that in other countries, like Spain, where the metrical
system is adopted in governmental transactions and legalized for those
of individuals, the innovation is practically disregarded by the people
and but partially conformed to by the Government, which is compelled
to recognize the validity of the old standards, in which the continuing
transactions of the nation, such as the registration of landed property,
the assessment of industrial taxation, etc., are still, and must be of ne-
cessity for many years, recorded. While recognizing that the proposed
measure is one mainly affecting the people, and therefore properly to be
legislated upon by the popular representatives, the Department of State,
being called upon for a specific opinion on the subject, is, on the whole,
indisposed to recommend the obligatory use of the metrical system in
all transactions between individuals.

4. That should its obligatory use as between individuals be enacted,
a period of not less than five years should be allowed to elapse before
the act takes effect ; and that even then provision should be made for
the recognition of the legal validity of transactions according to the
present lawful systems of weights and measures.

The Secretary of the Navy reports : " If it were desired to make the
metrical system of weights and measures obligatory in all government
transactions, the Navy Department perceives no objection to it except
in so far as it regards the soundings given on charts. If it were applied
to these, it would probably involve a total loss of all charts and chart-
plates now in use. The alteration of these would give them no increased
value : and as lone: as Eno-lish charts remain in fathoms and feet it
would be in fact prejudicial, and prevent that free use and interchange
of charts which seem essential to navigators.

" So far as this department is concerned, no longer notice would be

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? 763

necessary than was sufficient to furnish the standard weights and mea-
sures adopted for government use.

" Respecting the last inquiry submitted by the resolution, ' Wliat
objections there are, if any, to making the metrical system obligatory
in all transactions between individuals, and what is the earliest date
that can be set for the obligatory use of the metrical system throughout
the United States ? ' the department is unable to give a definite answer,
inasmvich as it is not informed as to the present intention of the English-
speaking peoples in regard to the adoption of the proposed change.
However desirable or advantageous in theory the change might seem,
if adopted by us and not by the other peoples speaking the English
language, it would seem probable that a mutual disadvantage would
exist growing out of diverse weights and measures.

" It may be assumed that a more general intercourse will exist be-
tween peoples speaking a common language than between peoples who
speak different languages. And looking at the present geographical
extent of the countries wherein the English language is used, and the
importance of their commercial intercourse, and also its future impor-
tance, as compared with any other of the spoken languages, at a period
not at all remote, if regarded historically, it would seem to be of doubt-
ful expediency to separate ourselves from what is now common in
weights and measures w^ith other people who speak our language, and
with whom it is desirable to increase rather than diminish our commer-
cial intercourse. Experience would indicate that we should hold our-
selves in accord with them, rather than adopt other standards, however
theoretically advantageous, for it will be impossible to escape many
practical disadvantages if our standards vary from theirs, so long as
our intercourse shall continue."

The Postmaster-General reports as follows: "In reply to the re-
quest contained in the resolution of the House of Representatives, I
have to say tliat the only objections to making the use of the metric
system of weights and measures obligatory throughout the domestic
postal service, which occur to me as having been made or as likely to
be made, are two : one based on the expense incident to the change of
systems, and the other based on an apprehension that the practical
workings of a new system will fail to give satisfaction, owing to the
lack of knowledge of the metric system and experience in its use and
application on the part of postmasters and of the public at large.

" In order to ascertain the probable force of the first objection, I have
caused an estimate to be made of the probable number, grade, and cost
of the balances and scales of the metric system which should be pro-
vided to take the place of those now in use in case a change is ordered.
The estimate is that the sum of 1124,788 would be called for as an im-
mediate outlay to provide for the change.

" In regard to the second objection, it is not to be denied that the
metric system of weights and measures corresponds in principle with

764 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the decimal system long in use in the United States for coinage and
money valuations, and that presumptively no gi'eater inherent difficulty
is likely to be encountered in the application of the decimal system to
our weights and measures in the domestic postal service than was met
in the change from the English system of coinage and money valuations
to the present one. The latter is certainly the simpler one, and has for
some time past been in use for the foreign mail service of this depart-
ment. The objection, then, is in my opinion founded on an apprehen-
sion that mistakes, and consequently resulting annoyances, and possibly
losses, would occur in the practical application, and not on any well-
grounded objection to the principle of the metric system. This appre-
hension would, I believe, be greatly lessened, if not altogether abated,
were sufficient time given for familiarizing postmasters and the general
public with the practical workings of the new system before discontinu-
ing the use of the old one.

" I have only the same means that any other citizen has of forming
a judgment in regard to the last inquiry made in the resolution of the
House, and I therefore deem it proper not to attempt to make an an-
swer to it in this connection."

The Secretary of War replies by forwarding the reports of his chiefs
of bureaus.

The Inspector-General reports : " Although I have had no practical
experience in the use of the metrical system of weights and measures,
yet, in my judgment, the compulsory change from the present system
would be inexpedient, as involving a large outlay of money without
adequate comparative results."

The Quartermaster-General reports : " In reply to the reference of
the resolution of the House of Representatives of the 6th instant, in
regard to the objections which may exist to making the use of the met-
ric system of weights and measures obligatory, first, in all government
transactions, and, second, in all transactions between individuals, and
the length of preliminary notice desirable before such metric law goes
into operation in the United States, I have the honor to say that if the
law makes the use of the metric system obligatory in all government
transactions it can be adopted by officers of the Quartermaster's De-
partment as soon as notified by general orders.

"Such an order can be distributed to every military post within the
space of one month from the time of its publication, and, if the telegraph
be used, within one week.

"The objections thereto which at once occur to me are:

" 1. It will very considerably increase the labor of computation, for,
in practice, all sellers to the United States will make their deliveries in
accordance with the English measures now in general use, and the offi-
cers, using the ordinary scales for weight, and the yard, foot, and inch,
and bushel, gallon, quart, and pint for measures, will first ascertain the
quantities and sizes in the present weights and measures, and then, by

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? 765

the use of tables to be distributed, will reduce them to metric quantities
ia their statement of their vouchers, receipts, and accounts, which will,
it appears to me, be a perfectly useless labor.

" 2. This reduction, involving additional calculations and transfers
from one set of units to another, unfamiliar and much less convenient,
will infallibly be the source of many mistakes, to the loss of the disburs-
ing-officer of the Treasury, or of the person who sells supplies to the
United States.

" 3. It will be necessary, in order to make the operation of such a law
really successful, to throw away all the hay-scales and other platform-
scales whose beams are now divided according to the American stand-
ard units of weight, and all the rules and measures divided according to
the yard, foot, and inch, and all the weights, pounds, ounces, or grains,
of avoirdupois, troy, and apothecaries' weight, and to purchase, distrib-
ute, and substitute new scales and new weights according to the met-
ric system. These changes will be expensive. The trouble and labor
I do not speak of, as such labor will, in case of the passage of a law,
simply be the duty of all ofBcers and employees of the United States.

" 4. If the metric system is made obligatory in government trans-
actions and not in transactions between indi^dduals, then continual con-
fusion and misunderstanding will be caused by the use of one standard
by the Government and another by the people. All packages are put
up by merchants, manufacturers, and producers in accordance with the
actual legal standards, pounds, ounces, grains, yards, feet, inches. The
transactions of the United States, large as they are, are insignificant
compared with those of private trade. Manufacturers and consumers,
and the people, will not change their customs at the call of the officers
of the United States.

" In regard to making the metric system obligatory in transactions
between individuals :

" 1. I do not believe that this is within the power of Congress. It
will be loGlked upon by the people as an arbitrary and unjust interfer-
ence with their private business and individual rights, and I do not think
that they will submit to it. It will inflict, if it can be enforced, a great
loss upon many, especially upon manufacturers and mechanics whose
shops are filled with costly tools, standard gauges, dies, and machines,
all constructed upon the basis of the foot and inch.

" Every geared lathe in the United States depends upon a screw of a
certain number of threads to the inch, and all the screws it produces are
gauged in pitch and diameter by the inch.

" The metre is not commensurate with the inch, foot, or yard ; all
reductions are approximate only. The law of July 27, 1866, makes the
use of the metric system permissive, legal, but not obligatory, and
establishes for the reduction of metres to inches, and the reverse, the
ratio of one metre to thirty-nine and thirty-seven hundredths inches,
which is not absolutely correct. To alter all this machinery, to change

766 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

all these machines, gauges, dies, screws, and other parts of engines, will
be the work of years — will cost millions of dollars.

" The metric system is not a convenient one for common use. Its
measures are not of convenient length. The yard, half the stature of a
man, is of convenient length to handle, to use, to apply. It, and the
goods measured by it, can be halved, quartered, subdivided into eighths,
sixteenths, thirty-seconds, sixty-fourths, etc. ; or it can be with equal fa-
cility divided into tenths, hundredths, thousandths. Half a metre is no
dimension ; half a centimetre is an unknown quantity ; but half a yard,
half a foot, half an inch, half a bushel, one fourth of a bushel, of a quart,
of a pint, etc., are recognized. If half a litre, of a decilitre, or a quar-
ter, eighth, or sixteenth of these quantities is provided for, then the
metric decimal system is abandoned at once.

" In calculation the metric system applies admirably to money and
accounts of money ; but even here the Government has been obliged to
abandon for the convenience of the people the true, strict, decimal sys-
tem, and to coin half a dollar, half an eagle, the quarter of a dollar, etc.

" In the use of weights and measures, however, there are not so great
advantages in the decimal system. The unit is too large, and the num-
bers produced and used in the calculations of the engineer are tedious
to write and are beyond the limits of ready apprehension.

*' The ciphers and figures 0 '00000073 convey no idea to a mind trained
in the English and American system, and yet such combinations are
common in French works of science and mechanics.

" The true scientific natural basis of the metric system has been aban-
doned. The metre was intended and enacted to be the ten-millionth of
tiae quadrant of the terrestrial meridian of Paris. In the progress of
geodesy and science, it is ascertained that the standard metre bears no
(exact) relation to that quadrant, and, though it is probably very nearly
the ten-millionth of the quadrant of the meridian in which New York
lies, it is not probable that it is the ten-millionth of either of the three
other quadrants of that meridian, or of any quadrant of any other me-
ridian.

" The fact is, that the metre is quite as arbitrary and unscientific a
standard as the foot or yard. It is of less convenient length than either
of them, and its compulsory adoption would derange the titles and rec-
ords of every farm and of every city and village lot in the United States ;
would put every merchant, farmer, manufacturer, and mechanic to an
unnecessary expense and trouble, and all, it seems to me, for the sake
of indulging a fancy only, and a baseless fancy, of closet philosojjhers
and mathematicians for a scientific basis of measures and weights which
(as the metre is not a ten-millionth of the Paris quadrant, is not what
it professes to be and was enacted to be) can not be found in the French
metric system.

" 1. The unit of length: The metre is 3-280890 + feet, or 39-37079 +
inches.

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? 767

"2. The unit of area: The are is 119-60332+ square yards.

"3. The unit of liquid measure : The litre is 0'264:18635+ gallon, or
1-0567454+ quart, or 2-1134908+ pints.

" 4. The unit of space : The stere is 1-308764+ cubic yard, or
35-386636+ cubic feet.

" 5. The unit of weight is : The gramme = 15-43234874+ grains
troy.

" 6. The unit of roods is : The kilometre = 1,000 metres = 0-62138+
mile.

" 7. The unit of land-measure for farms and city lots is : The hectare
= 2-47114+ acres.

"8. The commercial unit of weight is: The kilogramme = 1,000
grammes = 2-20462125+ pounds avoirdupois.

" What will our farmers, citizens, merchants, tradesmen, and mechan-
ics do with these figures ? And will they submit to being obliged to re-
duce acres, feet, inches, pounds, and ounces by multiplying or dividing
by the above figures ? v

" I think that to make the French metric system obligatory between
individuals in this country will be an impolitic and arbitrary interfer-
ence with the rights, interests, and habits and customs of the people."

The Surgeon-General reports : " In compliance with instructions
from your oiBce calling for reports as to objections to making the use
of the metrical system of weights and measures obligatory in all govern-
ment transactions, and also obligatory in all transactions between in-
dividuals, I have the honor to report as follows :

" 1. As to the first of the questions submitted in the resolution, I feel
constrained to express the opinion that the gravest inconveniences
would immediately result from an attempt to render obligatory upon gov-
ernment officers only the use of a system of weights and measures
whose units are so entirely different from those which have heretofore
been, and would then continue to be, in general use among the peo-
ple. I pass by the enormous difficulties which would result from com-
pelling government officers to use a different unit for the measures of
length from that used by the people. This would not only throw into
confusion the whole system of land measurement as practiced in the
United States, but would produce the most serious inconveniences from
the resulting effort to use in all government works tools and machinery
gauged by a different standard from those in common use. These and
similar inconveniences, some of them of the most deplorable kind, would
be felt so much more severely by other departments of the Government
that the duty of representing the force of these objections may safely
be left to them. I confine myself, therefore, in this report, to a brief
statement of the disastrous inconveniences which would result to the
medical department of the army from the measure in question. This
measure would compel the substitution of the metric sj^stem of weights
and measures in prescribing and dispensing medicines in the army for

768 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the system of apothecaries' weights and measures at present in use by
the medical profession of the United States.

" In all the medical and surgical works of any importance printed in
the English language the doses are expressed in apothecaries' weights
and measures. The immediate effect of compelling medical officers of
the army to substitute the metrical weights and measures would be, to
force them to make a series of arithmetical calculations every time they
attempt to use the prescriptions or doses laid down in any medical work
written in the English language. This thankless and unnecessary labor
would waste much precious time, and an error might cost life. More-
over, the strength of the various medical tinctures and solutions in use
in England and America has been so adjusted that the proper dose is
expressed in even minims, drachms, or fluid ounces. Merely to sub-
stitute for these simple quantities the corresponding fractional numbers
would be a silly waste of labor ; and in order that a proper dose might
be expressed in an even number of cubic centimetres, a revision of the
Pharmacopoeia would be necessary, and this would have to be followed
by a corresponding revision of all the medical books in common use
before the new Pharmacopoeia could be conveniently used. In my
opinion the best interests of sick officers and soldiers require that
the medical staff of the army should, in all its operations, act in the
most complete harmony with the medical profession of the United
States, and I can not do otherwise than express my belief that the
discordance in practice, which would be imposed by such a statute
as is suggested, would be fraught with the most unfortunate conse-
quences.

" 2. As to the second question, while T admit that the enforced intro-
duction of the metric system would produce less detriment to the pub-
lic service if it were rendered obligatory upon the whole people than if
its use were simply compelled in government transactions, I must ex-
press the opinion that great public inconvenience would result if at the
present time its general use were rendered obligatory by the exercise of
an arbitrary act of power, I leave to others to point out the disorders
likely to result in the land measurements, the railroad interests, and the
general machinery interests of the United States, in all of which the
units at present employed are incommensurable with those of the metric
system, so that the use of long decimal fractions in the most ordinary
transactions would become imperatively necessary as the only road of
escape from still greater evils. I confine myself merely to the question
of the interests of the medical profession of the United States, and
must express the opinion that it will be time enough when they have
asked for it to impose upon that body a change which will put all their
operations out of harmony with the similar proceedings of other English-
speaking nations. For assuredly many of the inconveniences which
would be felt by government officers, if compelled to use a system of
weights and measures not used by the people, would be felt by the whole

SHALL WE ADOPT THE METRIC SYSTEM? 769

people if tliey are compelled to use a system so materially different from
that employed by other English-speaking people. These inconven-
iences would only be reduced to the minimum, if, by an international con-
vention between the United States and Great Britain, a mutual agree-
ment were entered into to bring the system simultaneously into use
among all English-speaking people. Unless some such international
arrauo-ement can be eflfected, I think it would be wiser for the friends of
the metric system to remain for the present content with the law which
has legalized its use by those who may find it well adapted for their
own particular work. If it possesses the great advantages claimed for
it over the older system, its use being already authorized by law, it will
gradually extend until it has crowded all others out of existence, and
no further legislation than that already had will be necessary to secure
ultimately its general introduction. If, however, its advantages are so
far counterbalanced by its disadvantages, at some of which 1 have briefly
hinted, that, its use having been legalized, the people will not employ
it of their own accord, its enforced introduction would be a great pub-
lic wrong."

The Commissary-General of Subsistence reports : '* I have the honor
to state in reply to the first branch of the inquiry covered by the reso-
lution, that to make obligatory, in government transactions, the metri-
cal or any other system of weights and measures not in use by the
people, and consequently not familiar to or generally understood by
them, would not only involve great confusion and great extra labor in
making reductions from the system in use by the people to the system
adopted for the Government, but I believe that the people would look
with grave suspicion upon government transactions based on a system
of weights and measures which they did not understand ; and that to
adopt a system exclusively for the Government would have a tendency
to remove the Government further from the people, and weaken, if not
nearly destroy, their confidence in the integrity of the officials and
agents of the executive departments.

*' To the second branch of the inquiry covered by the resolution, I
would respectfully submit that I not only believe great detriment would
ensue from the adoption of the metrical system exclusively for the use
of the Government, but that it would be, also, inexpedient for the United
States to make the system obligatory between individuals, unless in co-
operation with Great Britain, with whom we are so intimately con-
nected by language, literature, and commerce.

" The change to a new system of weights and measures, based upon
units widely different from and incommensurable with those upon which
the system now in use is based, must necessarily require a great effort,
and should be preceded by a long period of preparation, say twenty
years. Even with the most thorough preparation, the change, when
made, will bring with it almost inextricable confusion and wellnigh
intolerable inconvenience, however superior to the existing system the

770 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

metrical system may be by reason of its decimal character, its symmetry,
and its consequent simplicity,"

The Paymaster-General reports : " I believe that the eventual in-
troduction into common use of the metrical system is highly desirable,
and is fast becoming still more necessary in our intercourse with foreign
nations, especially if it is destined, as seems likely, to pervade the
world. The great objects attained by it will be, fixed standards, uni-
formity, and the extension of the decimal system, found so useful in
our money standards.

" I am satisfied that it will be advisable to begin first with legislation
making the metric system obligatory in certain (not in all) gOA^ernment
transactions. In the collection of customs, in the postal system, and in
fixing the rates of coinage, and in all international transactions, it should
now be made obligatory from the 1st of July, 1879. I do not recom-
mend its adoption in the land system, and in purchases for the army
and navy, and for the Government, at so early a date.

" By this first proposed legislation, a stimulus would be given for
the system being taught in all the schools. Thus in six years the rising
generation would be initiated and accustomed to it. It would be time
enough then for legislation making its use obligatory in all remaining
government transactions.

" After a full trial of these measures the people might be prepared
for its voluntary introduction in domestic transactions, and for legisla-
tion making it obligatory. But it is desirable that there should be no
premature legislation of this last-named character, creating discontent
and an unfortunate repeal of untimely laws enacted in advance of pub-
lic sentiment. The preliminary measures referred to would prepare
the public mind gradually for final legislation."

The Chief of Engineers reports : " The resolution presents two main
inquiries : first, as to the adoption of the metric system in the govern-
ment offices ; and, secondly, as to its adoption in transactions between
individuals.

" So far as the proposed change would affect the works carried on
under charge of the officers of the Corps of Engineers, it need only be
said that while any change in the ordinary and accepted standards must
be an inconvenience, yet there is no other reason why the change should
not be made, provided sufficient time is given for preparation. It is
thought that the French metric standards should not be adopted, to the
exclusion of the present standards, in this office within a less interval of
time than five years after the passage of the act. This limit is fixed as
the minimum, in order to allow for the proper careful manufacture,
comparison, and distribution of standards, and their duplication in
various forms for ordinary use, for the necessary changes in tables and
formulae, and more especially to allow a sufficient interval of time dur-
ing which a practical familiarity with the new standards may be ac-
quired, particularly by those with whom the business of the engineer

PSYCHOMETRIC FACTS. 771

department is transacted and who are not in the public service, as well
as by those not in the public service who use the maps, charts, etc., of
the department.

" In regard to the compulsory use of the metric standards in the
transactions of individuals, certain additional considerations present
themselves. It is to be borne in mind that there is nothing in the pro-
posed change which will in any way favorably affect the usual course
of private business in this country, and that the demand for a change
from the present system does not come from business men, but is made
in furtherance of a project designed for the general public good in in-
ternational intercourse. There is no pressing necessity for immediate
change, and it would undoubtedly be better, if the change should be
made, to make it by concerted, simultaneous action on the part of all
English-speaking people.

" The relations of trade between this country and Great Britain are
such that the adoption of new standards of weight and measure by
the one without the concurrent action of the other is extremely unde-
sirable.

" As to the general question whether it is- desirable to adopt a deci-
mal system of weights and measures, there will probably be but little
difference of opinion, since its adoption will to some extent simplify
existing tables, and tend to establish a uniformity of practice through-
out the world. As an actual practical fact, its adoption is a matter of
no immediate importance, and certainly should not be made obligatory
upon individuals before it has become generally understood by being
adopted in the government service and taught in all public schools.

" The French decimal metric system has been adopted and made
compulsory in France, Belgium, Holland, Greece, Italy, Spain, Portu-
gal, Germany, Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Brazil, Peru, Chili, and
the Argentine Confederation and Uruguay.

" Great Britain and the United States have legalized the system,
but have not made it compulsory. Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, and
Austria use partial decimal systems, but with different units of length
and of measure."

■4 « »

PSYCHOMETEIC FACTS.

By FEANCIS GALTON, F. E. S.

THERE lies before every man by day and by night, at home and
abroad, an immense field for curious investigations in the opera-
tions of his own mind.

No one can have a just idea, before he has carefully experimented
upon himself, of the crowd of unheeded half-thoughts and faint imagery
that flits through his brain, and of the influence they exert upon his

772 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

conscious life. I will describe a few of the results of my own self-ex-
amination in respect to associated ideas.

It was after many minor trials that one afternoon I felt myself in a
humor for the peculiar and somewhat severe mental effort that was re-
quired to carry through a sufficiently prolonged experiment as follows :
I occupied myself during a walk from the Athenaeum Club, along Pall
Mall to St. James's Street, a distance of some 450 yards, in keeping a
half-glance on what went on in my mind, as I looked with intent scru-
tiny at the successive objects that caught my eye. The instant each
new idea arose, it was absolutely dismissed, and another was allowed to
occupy its place. I never permitted my mind to ramble into any by-
paths, but strictly limited its work to the formation of nascent ideas in
association with the several objects that I saw. The ideas were, there-
fore, too fleeting to leave more than vague impressions in my memory.
Nevertheless, I retained enough of what had taken place to be amazed
at the amount of work my brain had performed. I was aware that my
mind had traveled, during that brief walk, in the most discursive man-
ner throughout the experiences of my whole life ; that it had entered
as an habitual guest into numberless localities that it had certainly
never visited under the light of full consciousness for many years ; and,
in short, I inferred that my every-day brain-work Avas incomparably
more active, and that my ideas traveled far wider afield, than I had
previously any distinct conception of.

My desire became intensely stimulated to try further experiments,
and, as a first commencement of them, to repeat the walk under similar
circumstances. I purposely allowed a few days to elapse before doing
so, during which I resolutely refused to allow my thoughts to revert to
what had taken jolace, in order that I might undergo the repetition of
the trial with as fresh a mind as possible. Again I took the walk, and
again I was aware of the vast number of extremely faint thoughts that
had arisen ; but I was surprised and somewhat humiliated to find that
a large proportion of them were identical with those that had occurred
on the previous occasion. I was satisfied that their recurrence had in
only a very few cases been due to mere recollection. They seemed for
the most part to be founded on associations so long and firmly es-
tablished, that their recurrence might be expected in a future trial,
when these past experiments should have wholly disappeared from the
memory.

It now became my object to seize upon these fleeting ideas before
they had wholly escaped, to record and analyze them, and so to obtain
a definite knowledge of their character and of the frequency of their
recurrence, and such other collateral information as the exiDeriments
might afford.

The plan I adopted was to suddenly displa\' a printed word, to allow
about a couple of ideas to successively present themselves, and then,
by a violent mental revulsion and sudden awakening of attention, to

PSYCHOMETRIC FACTS. 773

seize upon those ideas before thej had faded, and to record them exact-
ly as they were at the moment when thej* were surprised and grappled
with. It was an attempt like that of Menelaus, in the " Odyssey," to
constrain the elusive form of Proteus. The experiment admits of being
conducted with perfect fairness. The mind can be brought into a qui-
escent state, blank, but intent ; the word can be displayed without
disturbing that state ; the ideas will then present themselves naturally,
and the sudden revulsion follows almost automatically. Though I say
it is perfectly possible to do all this, I must in fairness add that it is
the most fatiguing and distasteful mental experience that I have ever
undergone. Its irksomeness arises from several independent causes.
The chief of these is the endeavor to vivify an impression that is only
just felt, and to drag it out from obscui-ity into the full light of con-
sciousness. The exertion is akin to tbat of trying to recall a name
that just, and only just, escapes us ; it sometimes seems as though the
brain would break down if the eflFort w^ere persevered in, and there is a
sense of immense relief when we are content to abandon the search,
and to await the chance of the name occurring to us of its own accord
through some accidental association. Additional exertion and much
resolution are required, in carrying on the experiments, to maintain the
form of the ideas strictly unaltered while they are vivified, as they have
a strong tendency to a rapid growth, both in definition and comjolete-
ness.

It is important, in this as in all similar cases, to describe in detail
the way in which the experiments were conducted. I procured a short
vocabulary of words, and laid it open by my side. I then put a book
upon it in such a way that it did not cover the word that was about to
be displayed, though its edge hid it from vay view when I sat a little
backward in my chair. By leaning forward the w^ord came into sight.
I also took many petty precautions, not worth describing, to prevent
any other object besides the word catching my attention and distracting
the thoughts. Before I began the experiment, I put myseK into an
easy position, with a pen in my right hand resting on a memorandum-
book, and wdth a watch that marked quarter seconds in my left hand,
which was started by pressing on a stop, and continued going tmtil the
pressure was released. This was a little contrivance of my owui append-
ed to one of Benson's common chronographs. When I felt myself per-
fectly in repose, with my mind blank, but intent, I gently leaned for-
Avard and read the word, simultaneously pressing the stop of the watch.
Then I allowed about a couple of ideas to present themselves, and
immediately afterward released the stop and gave my utmost power of
attention to appreciate with accuracy what had taken place, and this I
recorded at once. Lastlv, I wrote down at leisure the word that had
been displayed, and the time shown by the chronograph to have been
occupied by the experiment.

The number of words used in the experiments I am about to de-

774 THE POPULAR SCIU.VCE MONTHLY.

scribe is seventy-five. I had intended it to be one hundred for the con-
venience of writing down percentages; but my original list became
reduced by mislaying papers and other misadventures not necessary to
explain. The result was, that I procured a list of seventy-five words,
which had been gone through as described, on four separate occasions,
at intervals of about a month. Every precaution was used to prevent
the recollection of what had taken place before from exercising any
notable influence. It was not difficult to succeed in doing so, because
the method of proceeding is permeated by the principle of completely
discharging from the mind the topics on which it had previously been
engaged.

I am particularly anxious that the fairness of the experiments
should be subject to no undue doubt, and will therefore add yet a few
more words about it. It may be thought an impossible feat to keep
the mind as free and placid as I have described during the first part of
the experiment, when the great change of its attitude in the second
part was imminent. Nevertheless, it was quite practicable to do so.
The preoccupation of m}' thoughts was confined to a very easy task,
viz., to govern the duration of the experiment. We have abundant
evidence of the facility of this sort of operation. We all of us have
frequent occasion to enter heart and soul into some matter of business
or earnest thought, knowing that we have but perhaps five minutes' lei-
sure to attend to it, and that we must then break off on account of
some other engagement. Nay, we even go to sleep, intending to awake
earlier or later than usual, and we do it. In the present case, after
about two ideas had successfully arisen, I succeeded, almost as a matter
of routii:e, in lifting my finger from the spring-stop, and that little act
was perhaps of some assistance in helping me to rouse my conscious-
ness with the sudden start that I desired.

Now for the results. I found, after displaying each word, that some
little time elapsed before I took it in, chiefly because the process had
been performed so quietly. If the word had been flashed upon a dark
background in large and brilliant letters, or if some one had spoken it
in an abrupt, incisive tone, I am sure that period would have been con-
siderably shortened. Again, whenever we read a single substantive
without any context or qualifying adjective, its meaning is too general
to admit of our forming quickly any appropriate conception of it. We
have no practice in doing so in ordinary reading or conversation, where
we deal with phrases in block, and not with separate words. Hence
the working of the mind is far less rapid in the experiments I am de-
scribing than on common occasions, but not much less than it was in
my walk along Pall Mall.

I found the average interval that elapsed between displaying the
word, and the formation of two successive ideas associated with it, to
be a little less than two and a quarter seconds — say at the rate of fifty
in a minute or three thousand in an hour. These ideas, it must be

PSYCHOMETRIC FACTS. 77s

recollected are by no means atomic elements of thought ; on the con-
trary, they are frequently glimpses over whole provinces of mental ex-
periences and into the openings of far vistas of associations, that we
know to be familiar to us, though the mind does not at the moment
consciously travel down any part of them. Think what even three
thousand such ideas would imply if they were all different ! A man's
autobiography, in two large volumes of live hundred pages each, would
not hold them, for no biography contains, on an average, three such
sequences of incident and feeling in a page. There must therefore be,
of a necessity, frequent recurrences of the same thought ; and this fact
was brought out quite as prominently by these experiments as by my
walks along Pall Mall. They were also elicited in a form in which I
could submit them to measurement.

The 75 words gone through on four successive occasions made a
total of 300 separate trials, and gave rise between them to 505 ideas in
the space of 660 seconds. There were, however, so many cases of re-
currence that the number of different ideas proved to be only 279.
Twenty-nine of the words gave rise to the same thought in every one
of the four trials, thirty-six to the same thought in three out of the
four trials, fifty-seven to two out of the four, and there were only one
hundred and sixty-seven ideas that occurred no more than once.
Thus we see how great is the tendency to the recurrence of the
same ideas. It is conspicuous in the reiteration of anecdotes by old
people, but it pervades all periods of life to a greater extent than is
commonly understood, the mind habitually rambling along the same
trite paths. I have been much struck by this fact in the successive
editions, so to speak, of the narratives of explorers and travelers in wild
countries. I have had numerous occasions, owing to a long and inti-
mate connection with the Geographical Society, of familiarizing myself
with these editions. Letters are in the first instance received from the
traveler while still pursuing his journey ; then some colonial newspaper
records his first public accounts of it on his reentry into civilized lands ;
then we hear his tale from his own lips, in conversation in England ;
then comes his memoir read before the Society ; then numerous public
speeches, and lastly his book. I am almost invariably struck by the
sameness of expression and anecdote in all these performances. (I
myself went through all this, more than a quarter of a century ago, on
returning from southwest Africa, and was quite as guilty of the fault
as any one else.) Now, one would expect that a couple of years or more
spent in strange lands among strange people would have filled the
mind of the traveler with a practically inexhaustible collection of
thoughts and tableaus ; but no, the recollections tend to group them-
selves into a comparatively small number of separate compositions or
episodes, and whatever does not fit artistically into these is neglected
and finally dropped, We recollect very few of the incidents in our
youth, though perhaps in old age we shall think very frequently of

-j-^e THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that little. Let any man try to write his autobiography, say between
the ages of five and six, and he will find that he has exhausted every-
thing he can recollect of that period in a very few pages. Let him
meet, for the first time after very many years, with sonre friend of his
boyhood, and talk over some interesting event in which they were both
eno-aged, and of which his recollection is so vivid that he believes he
can have forgotten none of its incidents. He will assuredly find, if his
experience at all resembles my own, that he and his friend have re-
tained very different versions of the same occurrence, that in each case
persons who had played an important part in it had wholly dropped
from the memory, and that the conversation will have recalled many
facts to both the speakers, that had almost passed into oblivion. We
recollect the memories of incidents, or the memories of those memories,
rather than the incidents themselves ; and the original impression, like
the original anecdote in the well-known game of " Russian scandal,"
receives successive modifications at each step until it is strangely con-
densed and transformed.

I divided such part of the 279 different ideas as admitted of it into
groups, according to the period of my life when the association that
linked the idea to the word was first formed, and found that almost ex-
actly the half of those that recurred either twice, thrice, or four times,
dated back to the period when I had not yet left college, at the age of
twenty-two. Of those that did not recur in any of the trials the pro-
portion that dated previously to the age of twenty-two to those of later
date was a little smaller, viz., as three to four. All this points to the
importance of an early education that shall store the mind with varied
imagery, and may form just one half the basis of the thoughts in after-
life.

The 279 different ideas fell into three groups. Those in the first
and most numerous were characterized by a vague sense of acting a
part. They might be compared to theatrical representations in which
the actors were parts of myself, and of which I also was a spectator.
Thus the word " a blow " brought up the image of a mental puppet, a
part of my own self, who delivered a blow, and the image of another
who received one ; this was accompanied by an animus on my part to
strike, and of a nascent muscular sense of giving a blow. I do not say
that these images and sensations were vivid or defined — on the con-
trary, they were very faint and imperfect ; indeed, the imperfection of
mental images is almost necessary to mobility of thought, because the
portions of them that are not in mental view or even in mental focus at
the same instant admit of being changed to ncAV shapes, and so the
mental imagery shifts with less abruptness than it would otherwise do.
The effect partakes more of the character of the changes in a diorama
and less of that of a sudden transformation scene. I am not aware that
this very common sort of ideas has ever been christened or even so
clearly recognized before as I think it deserves to be ; therefore I will

PSYCHOMETRIC FACTS.

777

call it ''histrionic." I find it to be a most important agent in creating
generalizations.

The second group of ideas consists of mere sense imagery, unaccom-
panied by any obscure feeling of muscular tension or action : such as
mental landscapes, sounds, tastes, etc. I showed, in a paper read be-
fore the Anthropological Society last year,' how generalized images
admitted of being produced. I took a number of portraits of dilFerent
persons, who were all represented in the same attitudes and of the same
size, and I threw photographic images of these, one on the top of the
other, by a contrivance there described, on the same sensitized photo-
graphic plates. The result was a picture compounded of that of all the
different persons ; and so much more numerous are th^ points of resem-
blance than those of dissimilarity in different human faces, that the
composite picture looked as though it had been taken from a real living
individual a little out of focus, and who had somewhat moved during
the process. I then pointed out that " a composite portrait represents
the picture that would rise before the mind's eye of a man who had the
gift of pictorial imagination in the highest degree." It is clear, from
the evidence of these composites, that generalized images are no chi-
meras.

So much for the second group of ideas. The third and last group
consisted of purely verbal associations, whether the mere names of per-
sons or things, or bits of quotations in prose or verse.

The seventy-five words were similarly divisible into three groups.
The first included such words as " abasement," " abhorrence, " adora-
tion," and " acclamation," all of which could be perfectly expressed in
pantomime, and generally gave rise to histrionic ideas. The second
group comprised " abbey," " aborigines," " abyss," and the like, all of
which admitted of sense representation, either by a visual image, or, in
the case of such a word as " acid," by some other sense. In the third
group were the words " afternoon," " ability," " absence," " actuality,"
and others of a like abstract character, difficult to apprehend and realize,
and tending to give rise to purely verbal associations. But as two ideas
were registered on each occasion, the eight results were usually dis-
persed among all the groups, though in unequal proportions.

Experiments such as these allow an unexpected amount of illumi-
nation to enter into the deepest recesses of the character, which are
opened and bared by them like the anatomy of an animal under the
scalpel of a dissector in broad daylight. If we had records of the self-
examination of many persons, and compared them, I think we should
be much impressed by the differences between one mind and another,
in the quality, wealth, and appropriateness of their associated ideas,
and we should wonder that mutual misunderstandings were not more
frequent even than they are.

' "Journal of the Anthropological Institute," viii., p. 134; or "Nature," May 23,
1878, p. 97. •

VOL. XIV. — 50

778 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

I found the purely verbal associations to contrast forcibly in their
rapid, mechanical precision with the tardy and imperfect elaboration of
highly generalized ideas ; the former depending on an elementary ac-
tion of the brain, the latter upon an exceedingly complicated one. It
was easy to infer from this the near alliance between smartness and
shallowness.

It so happens that my mental imagery concerns itself more with
aspects of scenery than with the faces of men, as I have rather a good
memory for localities, and much pleasure in thinking about them, while
I am distressed by natural inaptitude for recollecting features. I was
therefore surprised to find that the names of persons were just twice as
fi-equent in my associations as those of things, ineluding places, books,
and pictures. The associated words that formed parts of sentences or
quotations were twenty-seven in number, and tended strongly to recur-
rence. The majority were of good verse or prose ; the minority were
doggerel. I may as well specify their origin. Four of the verse quota-
tions were from Tennyson, two from Shakespeare, and eight from other
sources partlj' doggerel. Of the prose, five were from the Bible, and
seven from other sources, partly grotesque, and some of them family
phrases. I suspect there is a great deal of rubbish in the furniture of
all our brains.

The occasional vividness of an idea is very startling, and I do not
see my way to explaining it fully ; but sometimes I am sure it is due
to the concurrence of many associations, severally of small intensity,
but in the aggregate very effective. An instance of this is the power-
ful effect produced by multitudes subject to a common feeling of enthu-
siasm, religious fervor, or pure panic. On the few occasions on which I
have had the opportunity of experiencing such manifestations, it seemed
to me that every one of the multitudinous sounds and movements that
reached the ear and eye, being inspired by a common feeling, added its
effect to that of all the others. When we are in the presence of a single
person or of a small companj^, the empty background fills a large part
of the field of view, and dilutes the visual effect of their enthusiasm.
Nay, the larger part of the forms of the persons themselves are simi-
larly inexpressive, unless they be consummate actors. But nothing is
seen in an enthusiastic multitude but excited faces and gestures, no-
thing is heard but excited voices and rustlings. Their variety is such
that every chord in the heart of a bystander, that admits of vibrating
in sympathy with the common feeling, must be stimulated to do so by
some of them.

The background of our mental imagery is neither uniform nor con-
stant in its character. It changes in color, tint, and pattern, though,
in my case, all these are usually very faintly marked, and it requires
much attention to study them properly. Its peculiarities have nothing
to do vnth associated ideas ; they appear to depend solely upon chance
physiological causes, to which some of our ideas are also undoubtedly due.

PSYCHOMETRIC FACTS. -j-jg

The usual faintness of highly generalized ideas is forcibly brought
home to us by the sudden increase of vividness that our conception of
a substantive is sure to receive when an adjective is joined to it that
limits the generalization. Thus it is very diflficult to form a mental
conception corresponding to the word " afternoon " ; but if we hear
the words " a wet afternoon," a mental picture arises at once that has
a fair amount of definition. If, however, we take a step further and
expand the phrase to " a wet afternoon in a country house," the mind
becomes crowded with imagery.

The more we exercise our reason, the more we are obliged to deal
with the higher order of generalizations and the less with visual image-
ry ; consequently our power of seeing the latter becomes blunted by
disuse. Probably, also, the mind becomes less able to picture things to
itself as we advance in age. I am sure there is wide difference between
my mental imagery now and what it was when I was a child. It was
then as vivid and as gorgeous as in a dream.

It is a perfect marvel to me, when watching the working of my
mind, to find how faintly I realize the meaning of the words I hear or
read, utter or write. If our brain- work had been limited to that part
of it which lies well within our consciousness, I do not see how our
intellectual performances would rise much above the level of those of
idiots. For instance, I just now opened a railway prospectus, and the
following words caught my eye, the purport of which was taken in
block, " An agreement will be submitted for the consideration and ap-
proval of the proprietors on Friday next " ; yet I am certain that I had
not, and I doubt if I could easily obtain, a good general idea corre-
sponding to any one of the six principal words in the passage, *' agree-
ment," " submitted," " consideration," " approval," " proprietors," and
" Friday." If I puzzle over the words in detail until I fully realize
their meaning, I lose more than I gain ; there is time for the previous
words ta slip out of mind, and so* I fail to grasp the sentence as a
whole.

The more I have examined the workings of my own mind, whether
in the walk along Pall Mall, or in the seventy-five words, or in any
other of the numerous ways I have attempted but do not here describe,
the less respect I feel for the part played by consciousness. I begin
with others to doubt its use altogether as a healthful supervisor, and
to think that my best brain-work is wholly independent of it. The
unconscious operations of the mind frequently far transcend the con-
scious ones in intellectual importance. Sudden inspirations and those
flashings out of results which cost a great deal of conscious effort to
ordinary people, but are the natural outcome of what is known as
genius, are undoubted products of unconscious cerebration. Conscious
actions are motived, and motives can make themselves attended to,
whether consciousness be present or not. Consciousness seems to do
little more than attest the fact that the various organs of the brain do

78o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

not work with perfect ease or cooperation. Its position appears to be
that of a helpless spectator of but a minute fraction of a huge amount
of automatic brain-work. The unconscious operations of the mind may
be likened to the innumerable waves that travel by night, unseen and
in silence, over the broad expanse of an ocean. Consciousness may
bear some analogy to the sheen and roar of the breakers, where a sin-
gle line of the waves is lashed into foam on the shores that obstruct
their course. — Nineteenth Century.

HEALTH AXD EECKEATION.

By Db. benjamin W. KICHAEDSON, F. E. S.

THAT all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy is one of those
common sayings which we seem bound to accept, whether wc
like it or not. It is a truthful saying and an untruthful, a wise saying
and an unwise, according as one word in it is interpreted, and that
word \s, play. If play really means play in the strict sense of the term,
as it is defined for us in the dictionaries, viz., " as any exercise or series
of exercises intended for pleasure, amusement, or diversion, like bhnd-
man's-buff"; or as " sport, gambols, jest, not in earnest" — then truly
all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and Jill a dull girl.

But in these days there is a difficulty in accepting the saying as
true, because ithe idea of play, especially when it is expressed by the
term " recreation," is not always represented in the definition I have
given above. We now often really transform play into work ; and our
minds are so constituted that what is one person's work is another per-
son's play. What a backwoodsmaji would call his horse-lika labor, a
foremost statesman may call his light of pleasure. How shall we define
it ? What is play or recreation ?

Men diifer, I think, on the definition of work and play more than
on almost any other subject : difi"er in practice as much as in theory
in regard to it. I have' had the acquaintance, and I may say the friend-
ship, of a man who lives, it is said, for nothing but recreation, or
pleasure, or play. Such a man will rise at ten in the morning, and
after a leisurely, gossiping, paper-reading, luxurious breakfast will
stroll to the stables to look after the horses, of each one of which he is
very fond. He delights in horses. Thence he will away to the club,
will gossip there, read the reviews or the latest new novels, and regale
at luncheon. After luncheon he will play a rubber, winning or losing
several shillings — it may be pounds. He may then take a ride, or
drive, or walk in the park, and have a chat there ; or canter over to
Kew and look round the gardens, or attend a drum, or visit the Zo-

HEALTH AND RECREATION. 781

ological or Botanical Gardens. After this he will return home, and,
ably and artistically assisted, will dress for dinner. The dinner, in
accordance with his life, will be elegant, sumptuous, entertaining,
whether he take it at his own table or abroad. After dinner he may
probably go to a ball and dance until two or three in the morning;
or, if there be no ball on hand, he may have another rubber, or a round
at billiards, or a turn at the play, the opera, or the concert-room, with
a final friendly chat and smoke before retiring for rest.

To this gentleman — and I am penciling a true and honest gentle-
man, not a modern rake of any school of rakes — this mode of life is
a persistent pleasure, and to many more it would, I doubt not, be a
perpetual holiday. To me it would be something worse than death.
The monotony of it would be a positive misery, and I am conscious
that many would be found to share with me in the same dislike.

Some will say that is all true enough with respect to persons who
have passed out of youth into manhood, but that when life is young
the distinctive appreciations for different modes of recreative pleasures
are not so well marked out. I doubt, for my own part, this belief. It
seems to me that in childhood the tastes for recreative enjoyment are
as va-ried as they are in later years, with this difference, that they are
not so effectively expressed. The little mind is ever in fear of the
greater, and is often forced to express a gladness or pleasure which it
does not truly feel. When children, left to themselves, are indepen-
dently observed, nothing can be move striking to the observer than the
difference of taste that is expressed in respect to the games at which
they shall play. More than half the noise and quarrel of the nursery
is, in fact, made up of this difference of feeling as to the character of
the game that shall be constituted a pastime. In the end, on the rule,
I suppose, of the survival of the fittest, the strongest children hav6
their way, and one or two little tyrants drag the rest into their own
delights.

I should, on the grounds here stated, venture, then, to say that
there is, in point of fact, no more actual difference between work and
recreation than what exists as a mere matter of sentiment : that recre-
ation is a question of sentiment altogether, both in the young and the
old.

If we could get this fact into our minds in our educational schemes
for the young, we should accomplish at once a positive revolution in
the training of the young, which revolution would, I think, be attended
by the happiest change and train of thought in those who, in the fu-
ture, shall pass through the first stages of life to adolescence and matu-
rity. The search for amusements, and for new^ amusements, among the
well-to-do would not be needed, since the mind from the first would be
naturally brought to find a new delight in each act new called labor.
The word " labor," in short, might drop altogether ; the praise of labor,
which is so often extolled, would find its true meaning ; and the blame

782 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of play, which is so often unduly criticised, would have its proper recog-
nition.

It has always seemed to me that in that once high though brief
development of human existence ; in that period, if we can believe that
the art of the period came from the life of it, when the human form
took its most magnificent model for the artist still to copy ; in that
period when the perfection of bodily feature and build indicated, of it-
self, how splendid must have been the health of the living organizations
that stood forth to be copied and recopied for ever — it has alwaj^s
seemed to me, I repeat, that in that wonderful period of Greek history,
so effulgent and so short, the reason why such physical excellence was
attained rested on the circumstance that among the favored cultivated
few, for they were few, after all, there was from the beginning to the
end of life no such thing as work and play. Everything was existence
— nothing less and nothing more. Every office, every duty, every act
must have been an existence for the moment, varied but never divisible
into one of two conditions, practical pain or practical pleasure. Life
was an enjoyment which nothing sullied except death, and which was
purified even from death by the quick-consuming fire, that the life
might begin again instantaneously and incorruptibly.

If by some grand transformation we could in our day approach to
this conception which has been rendered to us by the history of art,
and could act upon it, we should, in a generation or two, attain a degree
of health which no sanitary provision, in the common meaning of that
term, can ever supply. If we could turn our houses into models of
sanitary perfection ; if we could release our toiling millions from half
their daily labor ; if we could tell want to depart altogether ; if we
could give means of education to every living human being — we should
not remove care, and therefore we should not secure health, unless with
it all we could also remove the idea of the distinction of labor and
pleasure, the morbid notion that some must work and some must play,
that the world may make its round.

In this country, so differently placed to the country of the great
and the ancient nation of which I have spoken, it is impossible, perhaps,
ever to introduce a joyousness like to that which the favored old civil-
ization enjoyed. Our climate is of itself a sufficient obstacle to such a
realization. Where the physical conditions of life are so unequal,
where we waste in structure of body, whether we will it or not, at cer-
tain fixed seasons, and gain, whether we will it or not, at other fixed
seasons, it is impossible to attain such excellence by any diversion of
mind or variation of pursuit. For universal gladness the sun must
play his part, doing his spiriting gently, but never actually hiding the
brightness of his face. From us, for long intervals, his face is hidden.
Under these variations of the external light and scenery around us we
have to cripple our minds through our bodies. Our clothing must be
heavy during long stages of the year, and our food so comparatively

HEALTH AND RECREATION. 783

heavy and gross that half the power, which might otherwise go off in
vivacity or nerve or spirit, is expended in the physico-chemical labor
that is demanded for keeping the body warm and moving and living.

To these drawbacks is added the unequal struggle for existence, the
partitioning off of our people into great classes, the millions of whom
are obliged to work from morning to night, compared with the thou-
sands who are at liberty to make some change in their course of life ;
the millions of adults who may be said to be tied to some continuous,
monotonous round of labor, until the whole body lends itself to the
task with an automatic regularity which the mind follows in unhappy
and fretful train, with little hope for any future whatever on earth that
shall bring relief.

From whatever side we look upon this picture it seems at first sight
to present an almost insoluble problerii, when the conception of mixing
recreation with work, so as to make all work recreative, is considered.
Amono- the masses there is no true recreation whatever, no real varia-
tion from the daily unceasing and all but hopeless toil ; nay, when we
ascend from the industrial and purely muscular workers to the majority
who live by work, we find little that is more hopeful. There is no true
recreation among any class except one, and that a limited and happy
few, who find in mental labor of a varied and congenial kind the diver-
sity of work which constitutes the truly re-creative and re-created life.

We get, in fact, a little light on the nature of healthful recreation
as we let our minds rest on this one and almost exceptional class of
men of varied life and action of a mental kind. They come before us
showing what recreation can effect through the mere act of varying the
labor. The brain-worker who is divested of worry is at once the happi-
est and the healthiest of mankind — happiest, perchance, because healthi-
est ; a man constantly re-created, and therefore of longest life.

Dr. Beard, of New York, who has recently computed the facts bear-
ing on this particular point, gives us a reading upon it which is singu-
larly appropriate to the topic now under consideration. He has reck-
oned up the life-value of five hundred men of greatest mental activity :
poets, philosophers, men of science, inventors, politicians, musicians,
actors, and orators ; and he has found the average duration of their
lives to be sixty-four years. He has compared this average with the
average duration of the life of the masses, and he has found in all
classes, the members of which have survived to twenty years of age,
the duration to be fifty years. He, therefore, gives to the varied brain-
workers a value of life of fourteen years above the average. B3' a later
calculation, relating to a hundred men belonging, we may say, to our
own time, he has discovered a still greater value of life in those who
practice mental labor, seventy years being the mean value of life in
them. Thereupon he has inquired into the cause of these differences,
so strange and so startling, and has detected, through this analysis, as
I and others have, a combination of saving causes, the one cause most

784 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

influencing being the recreative character of the work. His observa-
tion is so sound, so eloquent, and above all so practical, that I can feel
no necessity for apology in giving it at length. He is comparing, in
the passage to be quoted, what he calls the happy brain-worker with
the mere muscle-worker, and this is the argument :

Brain-work is the highest of all antidotes to worry ; and the brain-working
classes are, therefore, less distressed about many things, less apprehensive of in-
definite evil, and less disposed to magnify minute trials, than those who live by
the labor of the hands. To the happy brain-worker life is a long vacation ;
while the muscle-worker often finds no joy in his daily toil, and very little in
the intervals. Scientists, physicians, lawyers, clergymen, orators, statesmen,
literati, and merchants, when successful, are happy in their work without refer-
ence to the reward; and continue to work in their special callings long after the
necessity has ceased. Where is the hod- carrier who finds joy in going up and
down a ladder; and, from the foundation of the globe until now, how many
have been known to persist in ditch-digging, or sewer-laying, or in any mechani-
cal or manual calhng whatsoever, after the attainment of independence ? Good
fortune gives good health. Nearly all the money in the world is in the hands of
brain-workers ; to many, in moderate amounts, it is essential to life, and in large
and comfortable amounts it favors long life. Longevity is the daughter of com-
petencJ^ Of the many elements that make up happiness, mental organization,
physical health, fancy, friends, and money — the last is, for the average man,
greater than any other, except the first. Loss of money costs more lives than
the loss of friends, for it is easier to find a friend than a fortune.

The contrast put before us in these forcible remarks is most striking.
It is the key to the position in trying to unlock the secret as to what
true recreation should be. These brain-workers of whom Dr. Beard
speaks are, indeed, the modern Greeks, not perhaps in perfection but
in approximation. The Greeks might, possibly, have gone higher than
they did in the way of developed phj^sical beauty and of mental endow-
ment, and these happy brain-workers of later ages might, perhaps, more
nearly approach the happy Greeks, But both were on the lines to-
ward the highest that may be attainable, and this, as a means of indi-
cating the right line, is my reason for using the illustrations that have
been offered.

That which I have so far urged consists, then, of two arguments:
Firstly, that recreation to be healthful must, as its meaning convej^s,
literally, be a process of re-creating ; that is, of reconstructing or re-
building ; a practice entirely distinct from what is called play, when by
that is meant either cessation from every kind of creation, or enjoy-
ment of abnormal pleasures which weary mind and body. Secondl}'-,
that they who are able to live and re-create in the manner suggested
are, in positive fact, they who present the healthiest, the happiest, and
the longest lives.

From these premises I further draw the conclusion that we have no
open course of a reasonable kind before us except to strive to beget a
Uiealthful recreation in the direction indicated.

HEALTH AND RECREATION. 785

At the same time I do not say this in order to divert attention from
what may be rightly called the natural animal instincts of man. I
have no doubt there might be a cultivation of mind which should cease
to be recreative, and which thereby should be as injurious to the health
of the body as an over-cultivation of mere gross mechanical labor, and
which might even be more dangerous. It is not a little interesting to
observe that the greatest of the Greeks had become conscious of this
very danger, as if. be had learned its existence from observations in his
daily life. Plato, in treating of this subject in one of his admirable
discourses, warns us against the delusion that the cultivation of nothing
but what is intellectually the best is, of necessity, always the best. It
is more just, he says, to take account of good things than of evil.
Everything good is beautiful ; yet the beautiful is not without measure.
. An animal destined to be beautiful must possess symmetry. Of sym-
metries we understand those which are small, but are ignorant of the
greatest. And, indeed, no symmetry is of more importance with re-
spect to health and disease, virtue and vice, than that of the soul
toward the body. When a weaker and inferior form is the vehicle of
a strong and in every way mighty soul, or the contrary ; and when
these, soul and body, enter into compact union, then the animal is not
wholly beautiful, for it is without symmetry. , Just as a body which has
immoderately long legs, or any other superfluity of parts that hinder
its symmetry, becomes base, in the participation of labor suffers many
afflictions, and, though suffering an aggregation of accidents, becomes
the cause to itself of many ills, so the compound essence — of body and
soul — which we call the animal, when the soul is stronger than the body
and prevails over it — then the soul, agitating the whole body, charges it
with diseases, and by ardent pursuit causes it to waste away. On the
contrary, wdien a body that is large or superior to the soul is joined with
a small and weak intellect, the motions of the more powerful, prevail-
ing and enlarging what is their own, but making the reflective part of
the soul deaf, indocile, and oblivious, it induces the greatest of all
diseases, ignorance. As a practical corollary to these remarks, Plato
adds that there is one safety for both the conditions he has specified :
neither to move the soul without the body, nor the body without the
soul. The mathematician, therefore, or any one else who ardently de-
votes himself to any intellectual pursuit, should at the same time en-
gage the body in gymnastic exercises ; while the man who is careful in
forming the body should at the same time unite the motions of the
soul, in the exercise of music and philosophy, if he intends to be one
who may justly be called beautiffil and at the same time "right good."

Such is the Platonic reading of the recreative life as it appeared
to him in his day and among his marvelous people. We have but to
trouble ourselves with half the problem he refers to, and with but half
the advice that he suggests. Little fear, I think, is there among us
that the soul should be so much stronger than the body, and so greatly

786 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

prevail over it that it should agitate the whole inwardly, and by ardent
application to learned pursuits cause the body to waste away. Nor is
this to be regretted, because if the danger so stated were a prevailing
one we should have two evils to cure in lieu of one which is all-suf-
ficient for the reforming work of many of the coming generations of
men.

I have not, I trust, dwelt too long on what I may call the practical
definition of recreation as it ought, I think, to be understood, as it
once was understood and practiced, and as it is still practiced, if not
systematically understood, by a few whose varied and delightful works
and tastes make them the healthiest and longest-lived among us.

It is well always to have a standard before us, though it be seem-
ingly unapproachable, and the illustrations I have endeavored to supply
of all work and all play, and of long-continued recreation thereupon,
form the standard I now wish to set up for observation.

To make all England, and all the world, for the matter of that, a
recreation ground ; to make all life a grand recreation ; to make all life
thereby healthier, happier, and longer — this is the question before us.

Confining our observations to our own people and time, it may now
be worth a few moments of analytical inquiry as to how far we, in dif-
ferent classes of our English community, are away from so desirable a
consummation — the consummation of all human 'effort toward the per-
fected human life : the dream of some poets that such a life has been
and will return — " Redeunt Saturnia regna "—the dream of many poets
that it is to be, if it has not been.

The Registrar-General, with much judgment, due to long and wide
experience of the component parts of the nation comprised under the
title of England and Wales, has divided the community into six great
classes, which classes are, in many respects, so distinct that they may
almost be considered as great nations of themselves, having their own
individual pursuits, habits, tastes, and, if the word be allowable, recrea-
tions. He describes for us— 1. A professional class, made up of govern-
ing, defending, and learned persons, and numbering some 684,103 per-
sons, chiefly of the male sex ; 2. A domestic class, wives and women of
the household, and hotel and lodging-house keepers— a large class, the
great majority women, numbering as many as 5,905,171 — nearly, in
fact, six millions ; 3. A commercial class of buyers, sellers, lenders, and
transporters of goods and produce, chiefly men, and numbering 815,424 ;
4. An agricultural class, cultivators, growers, and animal-keepers, the
majority men, numbering 1,657,138; 5. An industrial class, mechan-
ics, fabric manufacturers, food and drink producers, and purveyors of
animal, vegetable, and mineral produce— a very large class, having in it
members of both sexes, and numbering 5,137,725 ; 6. An indefinite,
non-productive class ; persons of rank and property ; and scholars and
children ; nearly an equality of representation of numbers of both
sexes ; the whole class including a total of 8,512,706, of whom 7,541,-

HEALTH AND RECREATION. 787

508 are scholars and children — the living capital of the next genera-
tion of men and of women.

As we glance at these classes we quickly detect that what may be
called their vocations are extremely different ; that each class — with the
exception, perhaps, of two, the professional and the commercial, with
that part of the indefinite class which is composed of persons of rank
and property, and which approach each other — are as widely separated
in tastes and habits and inclinations as they are in labors and works.
Looking at the education of body and mind in these classes as a whole,
there is certainly little enough of symmetry.

Among the representatives of these classes which are best able to
command the advantages of true recreation there is little sound attempt
to use the privilege in a refined and reasonable way. The persons who
have their time at command, and who belong to the most favored
division, are divisible into two groups : a group which does no work at
all that can bear the name of useful or applied labor, but which spends
all its waking hours at what it considers to be recreative pursuits, which
may be laborious, but must not be remunerative ; and a group which
labors industriously for the sake of return or reward, but which steals
from time of labor regular intervals in which to follow out certain of
the recreations which form the whole life of the first group, in strict
imitation of that envied group, and in hopeless neglect of any recreation
of its own better adapted to its real wants and best enjoyments. Each
of these groups sufi"ers from the course it follows. The representatives
of the first kind lose much, since they are for ever repeating the same
to them pleasurable or automatic activity. The second lose, because,
while they are ever repeating the same useful activity, they are only
relieving that activity by repeating day after day the same automatic
and imitative recreations. Thus both are subjected to what may be
called the automatism of recreation. The automatism of recreation is
bad in every sense, and it is specially bad in the present day, because
of the quality of it, as well as the limited quantity. There is no such
diversity of recreation as is wanted to keep the body in health by the
exercise of the mind. With one man the recreation is all taken out in
cards, with another in chess, with a third in billiards, with a fourth in
debate or gossip on some one persistent topic of discourse or argument,
and so on, for what may be called the in-door recreative life. Nor is it
much different with out-door recreative amusement. Some one par-
ticular amusement claims the attention of particular men, and to this
amusement the men adhere as if they had to live by it, and as if, in fact,
there were no other recreative pursuits in the world.

This specialty of recreative pleasure or labor — for soon it becomes
labor — leads to consequences which are often of the most serious char-
acter. The man who undertakes the recreation at first as an enjoy-
ment, and indeed as a relaxation, is so absorbed in it that he strains
every nerve to be eminent in it, a professor of the accomplishment, with

788 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a local repute for his excellence. The moment he enters on this resolve,
however, he loses recreation. He sets himself to a new work, be it
mental or physical ; his mind becomes an emporium for the produce of
that one particular culture, and he is in respect to that not far removed
from a monomaniac. From the day that he is completely enamored of
the special pursuit it is little indeed that he is good for out of it in
hours apart from the common vocation of his life. He becomes fretful
if for a day he be deprived of his peculiar gratification ; irritable if he
joins with others in it who are not so skillful as himself; envious if he
meets with a rival who is better at it than himself ; and often actually
sleepless in thinking and brooding over some event or events that have
been connected with the previous play or venture.

If the time at my disposal admitted the introduction of detailed
illustration of the facts here referred to, I could supply from experience
instance upon instance. I have seen an amateur chess-plaj'er so infat-
uated with the game, which he originally sat down to as a relaxation,
that he became for months a victim of insomnia. He carried the whole
chess-board, set out in various difficult problems, in his brain, if I may
use such a simile, studied moves on going to sleep, dreamed of them,
woke with the solution solved, was sick and feeble and irritable all next
day, followed his usual occupation with languid ability and interest,
resumed his play at night with excited but not recruited determination,
got more and more sleepless, and at last failed to sleep altogether. I
have known more than one similar illustration in whist-players and in
great billiard-players, and have seen the results of these so-called recrea-
tions end in the most sad physical disaster, when the pursuit of them
has been made a matter of living importance, and when the player has
ever had in his mind that pitiful 7/: "If I had done this or that — if I
had made that move on the board — if I had played that card — if I had
made that stroke, how would the case have been ? " It matters little
what the answer to the question may be — whether it be that by such a
move, card, or stroke, the game would have been lost or won ; the per-
plexing doubt is there to annoy, and it keeps up an irritation which
imperceptibly wears out the animal powers and does permanent injury
to life. You see men while still they are actually young grow rapidly
like old men under this supposed recreative strain. They grow prema-
turely careworn, prematurely gray, prematurely fixed in idea and ob-
stinate in idea, angry at trifles, bafiled by trifles, and, in a word, young
senilities.

In this busy city, in the great places of business near to which we
noAV are, there are hundreds — may I not extend the calculation and say
thousands ? — of men who, in pursuit of the recreative pleasures I have
specified, or of others similar in their results, are wearing themselves
out twice as fast — and more than twice — as they are by the legitimate
labor to which they have to apply themselves that they may earn their
daily bread. It is the fact ; and the observant physician, as he listens

HEALTH AXD RECREATION. 789

to the suffering statements of these men, is obliged in his own mind to
differentiate between the assigned and what is often the real cause of
that train of evils to which it is his duty to lend an attentive ear.

Thus, among the most intelligent part of the community — among
the part that can help itself — there is no systematized scale or class of
recreations that can be relied upon to afford the change really demand-
ed for health. Nor are matters much improved when we take up the
kind of change that is sought after by the same classes in the matter
of physical recreation. When the Volunteer movement first came under
notice, and for some time after it first came into practice, it was the
hope of all sanitary men — I believe without any exception — that the
exercise, and drill, and training, and excitement which would be pro-
duced by the movement would prove most beneficial to the health of
the male part of the people at a period of life when the training of the
physical powers is most required and often most neglected. I remem-
ber being quite enthusiastic at that change and its promises, and I re-
called the other day an often-quoted paper or essay which had sprung
out of that enthusiasm, and which I dare say at the time it was written
seemed common sense itself. I can but feel now that the hope was
begotten of inexperience. The movement has been a success, I pre-
sume, in a national and political point of view, but a careful observation
of it from its first until this time has failed to indicate to me, as a phy-
sician, that it has led to any decided improvement in the health gener-
ally of those who have been most concerned in carrying it out by be-
coming its representatives. Certain it is that nothing affirmative of
good stands forth in its favor, and I wish I could stop with that one
neutral statement. I can not in order of truth and fairness so stop, for
I have seen much injury from the process. To say nothing of the ex-
pense to which it subjects many struggling men, to the loss of time it
inflicts on them, to the neglect it inflicts at the fireside and home, to
the spirit of contest of mind and fever of mind which it engenders ; to
say nothing, I repeat, of these things — all of which, nevertheless, are
detrimental, indirectly, to the health of the men themselves and of
those who surround them in family union — there is a direct harm often
inflicted by the service, call it recreation if you like, which is not to its
credit. The man who has advanced just far enough in life to have com-
pleted his development of growth, and to have lost the elasticity of
youth, the man who has rather too early in life become fat and, as he
or his friends say, puffy, the man who has, from long confinement in
the office or study, found himself dejected and dyspeptic, each one of
these men has passed into the ranks of the Volunteers, in order to re-
gain the elastic tread, to tTirow off the burden of fat, or to find relief
from the dyspeptic despondency. For my part, I have never been able
to discover a good practical result in any of these trials ; but I have
seen many bad practical results. I have seen the partly disabled men,
in the conditions specified, striving to do their best to keep alive and

790 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

be on a level with younger and athletic men, and I have been obliged
to hear of the signal and natural failure of the eflFort. I have heard of
the attempts to meet the failure by the tempting offer and too willing
acceptance of what are called artificial stimulants to give temporary
support, and I have been obliged to discover in persons so overtaxed
and so over-stimulated a certain. heavy excessive draw on the bank of
life, an anticipation of income which, in the vital as surely as in the
commercial world, is the road to a premature failure and closure of the
whole concern.

There are many who will agree with me, I doubt not, on this point ;
there are many men, and there are more women — for wives and moth-
ers are far more observant and wise than husbands and fathers on these
points — who will be able to bring their experience to bear in confirma-
tion of that which I have spoken ; and these will agree that to put men
of different ages and of different states of constitution and habits in the
same position for recreation ; to trot them all through the same paces ;
to make them all wear the same dress, walk or march the same speed,
carry the same load, labor the same time, move the limbs at the same
rate ; that to construct one great living machine out of a number of such
differently built machines is of necessity an unnatural and, in the end,
a ruinous process. There are some, however, who, while admitting so
much, will put in a plea for the younger members of the community.
They will insist that the younger men, the men who are from nineteen
or twenty up to twenty-nine or thirty, may with advantage go through
the recreation of training after the Volunteer fashion. The case is
much stronger on behalf of this argument, but even in the respect named
there requires a great deal of discrimination. A race of strong men
may be bred, and a weak race may, by gradual development, be raised
into a strong ; but a weak man, born weak, can, through himself, be led
a very little way into strength ; while during the process of training he
can most easily be broken into utter feebleness, so that the last of the
man may be worse than the first, Hencej in training the weak into
strong through any form of recreation, mental or physical, but specially
physical, there must be a singular discrimination. In this instance of
Volunteering as a mode of progress in physical health for the young
there are dangers that ought to be avoided with religious care. To ad-
vise a weakly youth of consumptive tendency and feeble build, or one
having some special proclivity to rheumatic fever, heart-disease, or other
Avell-defined hereditary malady, to compete with other men of the same
age and of athletic nature, in the same recreative exercise, is to deceive
the youth into danger. To force such a one into violent competitive
exercise, and tax him to the same degree of vital withdrawal day after
day, or week after week, is to subject him all but certainly to severe, if
not fatal, bodily injury.

I have selected the recreative exercise of Volunteering as a case for
illustration of an important lesson, and I have made the selection, not

HEALTH AND RECREATION. ■ 791

because the recreation is special as a sometimes harmful recreation, but
because more persons are concerned in it just now than in aught else of
the same kind of recreative pursuit.

There are many other so-called recreations which are even more in-
jurious to the feeble adolescent and to the enfeebled matured individu-
als, who seek to find symmetry of health in extreme recreation. Foot-
ball is one of these recreations fraught with danger. Rowing is another
exercise of the same class. Polo, while the fever for it lasted, was found
to be of similar cast. Excessive running and prolonged and violent
walking — in imitation of those poor madmen whose vanity trains them
to give up sleep and all the natural ordinances that they may walk so
many thousand miles in so many thousand hours — these are alike inju-
rious as ph^'sical recreations unless taken with the same discrimination
as is required by those who enter into the Volunteer movement.

As we pass from the freer and wealthier classes of the community
into the less prosperous we find no marked improvement whatever in
any form of recreation. We begin, in fact, to lose sight of the recrea-
tion that ministers to either mind or body in a sensible and healthy de-
gree, and to see that which should be recreative replaced almost entirely
by continuous and monotonous labor. The idea of symmetry of function
and development between mind and body disappears nearly altogether;
so that, indeed, to mention such a thing would, in some of the classes
concerned, be but to treat on a subject unknown, and therefore, as it
would seem to them, absurdly unpractical. To tell a country yokel that
his body is not symmetrical in build, and that his mind has no kind of
symmetrical relation to his body, were druel, from its apparent satire.
Yet why should it be ? Why should ignorance and labor so deform
any one that the hope of a complete reformation, the hope of the consti-
tution of a perfect body and in it a perfect mind, should seem absurd ?
It is not the labor that is at fault. The labor is wholesome, healthful,
splendid ; it is a labor compatible with the noblest, nay, the most re-
fined of human acquirements. Why should it be incompatible with
perfect physical conformation of mind and body? It is not, indeed,
the labor that is at fault, but the ignorant system on which it is carried
out.

There is much difference, in fact, between the three classes of the
community called the domestic, the agricultural, and the industrial, in
respect to the work, the recreation, and the resultant health pertaining
to each class. The domestic class as a whole is, by comparison with the
industrial, fairly favored. The members of it lead, it is true, a monoto-
nous life, and see often but little of the beauties of external nature, but
they find in the amusements they provide for those who are about them
some intervals of change which are, as far as they go, of service. More-
over, except in that part of the class which is engaged in disposing of
spirituous di'inks, and which pays a heavy vital taxation from the recrea-
tion springing out of that vocation, its representatives are not exposed

792 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to harmful recreations to an extreme degree. The domestic class there-
fore presents, on the whole, a fairly healthy life. The majority of its
members are women and mothers ; and, in the gladness with which they
tender their love and adoration to the young and innocent life that
comes into their charge, they find perchance, after all, the purest plea-
sure, the most enhancing, the most ennobling recreation, that, even in
the midst of many cares and sorrows and bereavements, falls to the lot
of any section of the great community.

The agricultural class, less favored in recreative opportunities than
the others which have passed before us, living a laborious and very poor
life, ever at work for small returns, and finding little recreation beyond
that which is of mere animal enjoyment, is still comparatively favored.
To the agricultural worker the seasons supply, imperceptibly, some de-
light that is beneficial to the mind.

These as they change, Almighty Father ! these
Are but the varied God.

Mysterious round ! What skill, what force divine
Deep felt in these appear: a simple strain,
Yet so delightful, mixed with such kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combined.
And all so forming one harmonious whole —
Shade unperceived, so soft'ning into shade
That as they still succeed they ravish still.

The labor of the out-door agricultural class, blessed by these chang-
ing scenes which the exquisite poet above quoted so exquisitely de-
scribes, is varied also in itself. Each season brings its new duty: the
spring its meadow-laying and sheep-shearing ; the summer its haymak-
ing ; the autumn its harvesting and harvest-home, and fruit-gathering;
the winter its plowing and garnering, and cattle-tending; with sun-
dry well-remembered holidays which are religiously kept. There may be
through all this continuous wearing labor ; there is ; but, as it is not
monotonous, it is to some extent recreative, and the facts of mortality
tell that it is saving to life. The agricultural classes present a mortal-
ity below the average in the proportion of ninety-one to one hundred of
the mass of the working community. Moreover, there is hope for the
agricultural classes in the fact .that it is comparativelj'' an easy task to
supply them Avith a perfect roundelay of beautiful recreations for their
resting hours. It is only to remove from them the grand temptations to
vice in the beer-shop and the spirit-store, and to substitute for these re-
sorts a rational system of enjoyments, to win for the country swain the
first place in that sj- mmetry which Plato called " right good."

The utter blankness, the blankness that may be felt, in respect to
recreation is realized most in the millions of the industrial class who
live in the everlasting din of the same mechanical life; who see ever
before them the same four walls, the same tools, the same tasks ; who

HEALTH AND RECREATION. 793

hear the same sounds, smell the same odors, touch the same things, feel
the same impressions, again and again and again, until the existence is
made up of them, never to be varied until death doth them part. It is
to this class — repining, naturally envious, naturally restless, and at this
moment of time unsettled, mournful, and disaffected, to an extent which
few, I fear, of our rulers comprehend — it is to this class most of all that
the balm of wholesome recreation is most necessary, and for whom the
absence of it is most dangerous. In this class there is no such thing as
health. It is a blessing not to be found. You could not, I solemnly
believe, bring me one of them that I dare, as a conscientious physician,
declare, after searching examination, to be physically healthy in any
approach to a degree of standard excellence. As a rule the average
of life among those who have passed twenty-five would not be above
fifteen years.

In these classes we see the effect of what I may venture to call the
denseness of work, leading to mortality in the most perfect and distinc-
tive form — work without any true recreative relief ; work without any-
thing chansrins: or becoming recreative in itself ; work relieved at no
regular intervals for introduction of new life.

The greatest of all the social problems of our day is involved in
this study of the manners and modes of thought of over five millions
of adult English people, all confined in order that they may labor, with
no satisfactory relief from labor, and with no land of promise before
them. The greatest of all the political questions of our day is also in-
volved in this same study. The physician knov.s that the wisest of
mankind, the most intelligent of mankind, are only half their former
selves when they are out of health. He knows that health which is
bad, but not sufficiently bad to prostrate the physical powers to such
an extent as to cause inactivity of the wUl, is the most perplexing of
all states of mind and action with which he has to deal. He feels
tliereupon a fellow-sympathy with the political physician who is called
upon to treat the industrial masses in mass ; to provide for their minds'
health, to calm their excitement, to plant confidence in their hearts,
and, most arduous task of all, to find out the way for securing for
them those two grand remedies in the Pharmacopoeia of the ordinary
physician, rest and change of scene, in pure and open air.

"They find their own recreations, these working millions," I think I
hear some one say. They try to find them, would be the truer state-
ment. They try their best, but they have found few conducive to
health, many that are fatal. They are to be pitied and pardoned for
these errors of their finding. What if they do discover recreation of
the worst kind in the bar and saloon of the spirit-seller ? Have they
not the example of the wealthier classes before them, teaching that the
same indulgence, in another style, is recreation ? May they not ask
how manv other obtainable pleasures are provided for them, and
whether many, too many, of obtainable pleasures so called, and so bad,

VOL. XIV. — 51

794 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

are not positively thrust upon them ? They have labored all day in
monotony : where shall they go for recreation, and what shall the rec-
reation be ? If they go far away they are removed from the sphere of
their labors ; if they look near to their own abodes, they find not one
true and ennobling pastime, but fifty that are degrading, and, at the
same time, filled with every possible temptation.

I apply this to our own people ; but it is, I fear, equally applicable
to other peoples. Dr. Beard, the American I have already quoted,
writes his experience, gathered in his own country, as follows : "To
live," he says, speaking of the same classes, " to live on the slippery
path that lies between extreme poverty on the one side and the gulf of
starvation on the other ; to take continual thought of to-morrow, with-
out any good result of such thought; to feel each anxious hour that
the dreary treadmill by which we secure the means of sustenance for a
hungry household may, without warning, be closed by any number of
forces, over which one has no control ; to double and triple all the hor-
rors of want and pain by anticipation and rumination — such is the Ufe
of the muscle-working classes of modern civilized society ; and when we
add to this the cankering annoyance that arises from the envying of the
fortunate brain-worker, who lives at ease before his eyes, we marvel not
that he dies young, but rather that he lives at all."

There remains still in the list of classes requiring recreation, and
the health that springs from it, the last or indefinite class. Of the
purely indefinite of these I need not speak ; for they, the waifs and
strays of our civilization, are, I fear, under little influence of such refin-
ing agencies as we would put forward for the future. With the very
small class of persons of rank and property, less than 169,000 altogether,
I have dealt already, by joining them with the professional and com-
mercial well-to-do classes. To the seven and a half millions of scholars
and children and their recreations attention will be called in a new
chapter. — Gentlemavb s Magazine.

■♦»»

EAELY TKACES OF MAN.'

By G. DE MORTILLET.

QUATERNARY MAN.— The man of geological time— fossil man— is
now a fact so clearly demonstrated that it is no longer called in
question. The recent exposition of anthropological sciences showed us
his works plentifully scattered throughout France, England, Spain, and
Italy.

But, though the existence of quaternary man in the southwest of
Europe is no longer denied, there is a school which, walking with fear
^ Translated by J. Fitzgerald, A. M., from the " Revue d' Anthropologic."

EARLY TRACES OF MAN. 795

and hesitation in the path of progress, has its mind made up to contest
his existence in the Orient. What the leaders of this vSchool maintain
is this : In the East, say they, civihzation, and consequently historic
records, date back to a very remote time. Is it not, then, possible that
geological time still persisted in Europe, and especially in western
Europe, while in Egypt the historic dynasties were being founded ?

To put forth such a proposition as this, one must be ignorant of the
data of geology. The remarkable collections exhibited at the Anthro-
pological Exposition have shown that man was contemporary not only
with the reindeer, the saiga, the chamois, and the marmot on our
plains ; not only with the mammoth, and the Rhinoceros tichorhinics
— that is, with the fauna of the glacial period — but also with the great
hippopotamus, the Elephas primigenius, and the rhinoceros of Merk.
All geologists are agreed that the duration of the period in which we
live is as nothing compared with that of the Quaternary period. It is
as a day compared to ages, as a drop of water in a stream. All paleon-
tologists understand what a length of time is requisite for the rise and
decline of animal species — species which, while they have been upon
the earth, have been lavishly distributed over an enormous area.

But we have no need of the general data of geology and paleontol-
ogy in order to meet the objection. The Exposition of the Anthropo-
logical Sciences furnished materials which reduce it to a nullity. There
were exhibited perfectly characterized quaternary instruments of silex
from the East — from the most ancient seats of civilization, Egypt and
Syria. In those countries then, no less than in France and England,
quaternary man preceded all the historic civilizations.

The earliest Quaternary epoch, the preglacial, is characterized, so
far as man's works are concerned, by a stone implement of peculiar
form. It is dressed on its two sides, usually rather roughly chipped ;
it is rounded at the base, pointed at the top, and its edges are pretty
sharp. In general form it is more or less almond-shaped. This imple-
ment, in past times called by workmen in quarries "langue de chat"
(cat's tongue), is now called " hache de St. Acheul," or " hache acheuli-
enne " (hatchet of St. Acheul), terms derived from the locality in which
it has been oftenest found. They have been found in abundance in the
quaternary alluviums of France, England, and Spain. Nay, within a
few years they have been found in the valley of the Delaware near
Trenton, New Jersey, by Dr. Charles C. Abbott. The figures which he
has published, and his descriptions, tally exactly with the St. Acheul
hatchets of France and England.

Nor is it in the New World only that the existence of man in the
earliest portion of the Quaternary period has been proved ; the same
thing is true of the Old World. M. Place, the explorer of Assyria, has
brought to light a St. Acheul hatchet of silex which he found under the
ruins of the palace of Khorsabad. At the exposition, the Abbe Richard
showed a St. Acheul hatchet, also of silex, from the lake of Tiberias.

796 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A still more conclusive proof is furnished by Professor Henry W.
Haynes, of Boston, who reports a number of wrought flints from Egypt,
among them several clearly characterized St. Acheul hatchets.

In the February number (1869) of the " Materiaux pour I'Histoire
de I'Homme," M. Adrien Arcelin first made the announcement that the
grand Egyptian civilization, like all other civilizations, was preceded
by an age of stone. He had just collected in Upper Egypt several
chipped flints. Toward the close of the same year this discovery was
confirmed by Messrs. Lenormant and Hamy. All the specimens brought
home by these earliest explorers might be regarded as belonging to the
Robenhausen epoch, or age of polished stone — only one specimen, pre-
sented to the museum of St. Germain, came anywhere near the St.
Acheul type.

After Arcelin's discovery, collections of dressed flints were multi-
plied in Egypt, though without throwing much light upon the question.
But Sir John Lubbock, in an essay illustrated with fine plates, gave
figures of three flint implements found at Luxor and at Abydos, which
are undoubtedly St. Acheul hatchets.

Among the wrought flints brought from Egypt and exhibited by
Mr. Haynes are several which incontestably are of the quaternary
type. Among them we see scrapers and arrow-heads, the latter be-
longing to a type which in France occurs only in glacial formations.
The collection also embraces more ancient forms, preglacial forms, ref-
erable to the early portion of the Quaternary period, viz., St. Acheul
hatchets of flint.

These St. Acheul hatchets come from two very distinct localities:
one lot is from the neighborhood of Luxor, in Upper Egypt, the other
from the environs of Cairo, in Lower Egypt. The flint used, as is
clearly proved by Delanoue, comes from the nummulitic formations.
These formations are found m situ in Upper Egjpt ; and the St. Acheul
hatchets of that region are as a rule heavier and better wrought, above
all, more completely wrought. In the environs of Cairo there are no
rocks in situ y and, as for flint, only rounded nodules are found. These
nodules have been wrought into the forms of implements. This is easily
seen, for all the St. Acheul hatchets of that locality still bear at their
base traces of the original rounded surface of the nodules.

From these archaeological data, i. e., from the nature and the form
of the objects, we may conclude that the man of the earliest Quaternary
times lived in Egypt simultaneously with his existence in Europe, and
that in both of these regions his industrial development was about the
same, extremely primitive.

And geological observation confirms these deductions. It was not
on the surface of plateaus that Mr. Haynes found these St. Acheul
implements. On the contrary, most of them, at least those from the
neighborhood of Luxor (fonning the greater number), were found in
the bottom of the ravines of Bab-el-Moluk. These ravines are cut deep

EARLY TRACES OF MAN. 797

into the quaternary deposits by the torrents which, in seasons of heavy
rainfall, carry to the Nile the waters from the mountains of Libya.

Thus, then, thanks to the Exposition of the Anthropological Sci-
ences, we are in a position to show that the oldest Egyptian civilization
— that of the earliest dynasties — which dates back 4,000 years before our
era, was preceded by an age of polished stone, and that before that
period Egypt, like all the rest of the world, was occupied by quaternary
man.

Tertiary Max. — Important as are the results of the Anthropologi-
cal Exposition from the point of view of quaternary man, they are still
more so from the point of view of tertiary man.

But first let us understand what is meant by the terms quaternary
man and tertiary man.

The fauna of the mammals serves clearly to determine the limits of
these later geological periods.

The Tertiary is characterized by terrestrial mammals entirely differ-
ent from extant species ; the Quaternary by the mingling of extant with
extinct species ; the present period by the extant fauna.

The man of the early Quaternary, he who made the St. Acheul
hatchets and used them, is the man of Neanderthal, of Canstatt, of
Enggisheim, of La Naulette, of Denise. He is indubitably a man,
but differing more widely from the Australian and the Hottentot than
the Australian and Hottentot differ from the European. Hence un-
questionably he formed another human species, the word species being
taken in the sense given to it by naturalists who do not accept the
transformation doctrine.

Tertiary man, therefore, must have been still more distinct — of a
species still less like the present human species — indeed, so different as
to entitle it to be regarded as of distinct genus. For this reason I
have given to this being the name of man's precursor. Or he might be
called anthropopithecus — the man-monkey.

The question of tertiary man should therefore be expressed thus :
Did there exist in the Tertiary age beings sufficiently intelligent to per-
form a part of the acts which are characteristic of man ?

So stated, the question is settled most completely by the various
series of objects sent to the Anthropological Exposition.

The first and oldest of these collections was that made by the late
Abb6 Bourgeois, at Thenay (Loir-et-Cher). At the International Con-
gress of Prehistoric Archaeology and Anthropology, held in Paris in
1867, the Abb6 Bourgeois exhibited tertiary flints which, he claimed,
had been chipped intentionally. These early specimens were not very
conclusive, lost as they were amid a multitude of other specimens which
certainly had not been fashioned intentionally, unless one can suppose
that the}' had been intentionally split by the action of fire. The result
was, that the abba's communication won to his side but few adherents.

798 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

But, profoundly convinced of the reality of his discovery, the Abbe
Bourgeois did not lose heart on suffering this partial repulse. He con-
tinued his researches with vigor, and again, in 1872, provided now with
better specimens, he raised the question at the Brussels Congress.
There he made some headway among the best experts. But on the
commission which was specially appointed to examine the flints were
several members who knew but very little directly about the manner
of working on flint, and they either hesitated or passed an adverse
judgment. Hence the question was not definitively settled. This re-
sult, half success, half failure, stimulated the ardor of the accomplished
naturalist ; he continued his investigations, and so succeeded in collect-
ing for the Anthropological Exposition a remarkable series of flint im-
plements which dispels all doubt.

This collection was made up of flints which beyond a doubt had
undergone the action of fire. They are full of cracks, and even quite
discolored. With these are other flints, far more numerous, which have
simply been split by fire. Among them are some which unquestionably
have been neatly and regularly retouched on one or both of their mar-
gins. Every one who has carefully and impartially examined them has
admitted that the second dressing {les retailles) was certainly inten-
tional, and consequently that it was the work of an intelligent creature.

It remains to determine the age to which these flints belong. They
were collected at Thenay, in formations clearly iyi situ and intact, and
belonging to the formation known among geologists as " calcaires de
Beauce " ; but now these calcaires de Beauce constitute the lower strata
of the Middle Tertiary. This is shown by the fauna which the Abbe
Bourgeois exhibited in connection with the flints. This fauna, which
comes from the sands of the Orleanais, which directly overlie the cal-
caires de Beauce, comprises great mastodons and dinotheriums belong-
ing to the Lower Miocene. Then there is the acerotherium, a genus akin
to the rhinoceros, and which was found in the very same stratum as the
fire-split and redressed flints.

It results, therefore, from the Abbe Bourgeois's researches, that
during the Middle Tertiary there existed a creature, precursor of man,
an anthropopithecus, which was acquainted with fire and could make
use of it for splitting flints. It also knew how to trim the flint-flakes
thus produced and to convert them into tools.

This curious and interesting discovery for a long time stood alone,
and arguments were even drawn from this isolatedness to favor its
rejection. Fortunately, another French observer, M, J. B. Rames,
has found in the vicinity of Aurillac (Cantal) in the strata of the upper
part of the Middle Tertiary — here, too, in compan}' with mastodons and
dinotheriums, though of more recent species than those of Thenay
— flints which also have been redressed intentionally. Here, however,
the flints are no longer split by fire, but by tapping. It is something
more than a continuation, it is a development. Among the few speci-

WHY BO WE EAT OUR DINNER? 799

mens exhibited by M. Rames, whose discoveries are quite recent, is one
which, had it been found on the surface of the ground, would never
have been called in question.

The weighty facts developed by French investigators received strik-
ing confirmation in the Portuguese department of the Exposition. A
distinguished savaiit of Lisbon, Senhor Ribeiro, director of the Geo-
logical Bureau of Portugal, sent a collection of flints and quartzites
found in the strata of the Middle Tertiary or Miocene and in the Upper
Tertiary or Pliocene of the valley of the Tagus. Among these speci-
mens— ninety-five in number — are twenty-two which bear unquestionable
traces of intentional chipping. Nine specimens, all of flint, are de-
scribed as coming from the Miocene. Of the others, purporting to be
Pliocene, seven are of flint and six of quartzite. All these specimens
are roughly chipped, and nearly all are triangular in form, and not re-
dressed, whether the material be flint or quartzite.

Thus, then, the Anthropological Exposition, important though it
was from the point of view of quaternary man, is still more important
from the point of view of tertiary man— man's precursor. His existence
can no more be denied.

-♦♦♦-

WHY DO WE EAT OUK DINKEE?

By Peofessob GKANT ALLEN.

EARLY last year a paragraph went the round of the papers to the
efi'ect that a large female anaconda-snake, in the reptile-house at
the Zoological Gardens, after a fast of a twelvemonth, had at length
been induced to kill and swallow a duck. This very touchy and vin-
dictive lady, it appears, had taken such grave offense at her capture in
her South American home, and at her subsequent compulsory voyage to
Great Britain, that she sulked persistently for a whole year, and inva-
riably refused the keeper's most tempting offers of live rabbits or plump
young pigeons. Month after month she lay passive in her cage, with
her heart beating, her lungs acting, and all her vital functions proceed-
ing with the usual slow regularity of snake-life ; but not a mouthful of
food did she attempt to take, and not a single fresh energy did she re-
cruit from without to keep up the working of her animal mechanism.
As I read this curious case of a genuine " fasting girl " in my " Times "
one morning, the thought struck me forcibly — " Why, after all, should
we expect her to feed ? Why should she not go on for ever without
tasting a morsel? In short, why should we eat our dinner?" And I
set myself to work at once to find out what was the general opinion of
the unscientific public upon this important though novel question.

Singularly enough, I found that most people were content to eat
their dinner in a very unreasoning and empirical way. They had al-

8oo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ways been accustomed to dine daily from their childhood upward, they
felt hungry at the habitual dinner-hour, and they sat down to their five
courses with an unquestioning acceptance of the necessity for feeding
to prevent starvation. But when I inquired why people who did not
eat should starve, why they should not imitate the thrifty anaconda, and
take one meal in a twelvemonth instead of three in a day, they appeared
to regard my question as rather silly, and as certainly superfluous. Yet
I must confess the query seems to me both pertinent and sensible ; and
it may be worth while to attempt some answer here in such language
as can be understanded of the people, without diving into those pro-
found mysteries of formula and equations with which physicists love to
becloud the subjects of their investigation.

A still more startling case than that of the anaconda will help to
throw a little light upon the difficult problem which we have to solve.
An Egyptian desert-snail was received at the British Museum on March
25, 1846. The animal was not known to be alive, as it had withdrawn
into its shell, and the specimen was accordingly gummed, mouth down-
ward, on to a tablet, duly labeled and dated, and left to its fate. In-
stead of starving, this contented gasteropod simply went to sleep in a
quiet way, and never woke up again for four years. The tablet was
then placed in tepid water, and the shell loosened, when the dormant
snail suddenly resuscitated himself, began walking about the basin, and
finally sat for his portrait, which may be seen of life-size in Mr. Wood-
ward's " Manual of the Mollusca." Now, during those four years the
snail had never eaten a mouthful of any food, yet he was quite as well
and flourishing at the end of the period as he had been at its beginning.

Hence we are led to the inquiry — What is the actual function which
food subserves in the human body ? Why is it true that we must eat
or we must die, while the snake and the snail can fast for months or
years together with impunity ? How do we differ from these lower
animals in such a remarkable degree, when all the operations of our
bodies so closely resemble theirs in general principle ?

Everybody has heard it said that food is to men and animals what
fuel is to a steam-engine. Everybody accepts this statement in a vague
sort of way, but until the last few years nobody has been able really to
explain what was the common feature of the two cases. For example,
most people if asked would answer that the use of food is to warm the
body, but this is really quite beside the question : because, in the first
place, the use of fuel is not to warm the steam-engine, but to keep up
its motion ; and, in the second place, many animals are scarcely per-
ceptibly warmer than the medium in which they live. Again, most
people show in every-day conversation that they consider the main ob-
ject of food to be the replacement of the materials of the body ; where-
as we shall see hereafter that its real object is the replacement of the
energies which have been dissipated in working. Indeed, there is no
more reason why the materials of an animal body should waste away

WHY DO WE EAT OUR DINNER? 801

of tliemselves, apart from work done, than there is for a similar wasting
away in the case of a mineral body such as a stone. When an animal
does practically no work, as in the instance of our desert-snail, his body
actually does not waste, but remains throughout just as big as ever.
So we must look a good deal more closely into the problem if we want
to understand it, and not rest content with vague generalities about
food and fuel. Such half knowledge is really worse than no knowledge
at all, because it deludes us into a specious self-deception, and makes us
imagine that we comprehend what in fact we have not taken the least
trouble to examine for ourselves.

Let us begin, then, by clearly realizing what is the use of fuel to the
steam-engine. Obviously, you say, to set up motion. But where does
the motion come from ? '* From the coal," answers the practical man,
unhesitatingly. " Well, not exactly," says the physicist, " but from the
coal and the air together." All energy or moving power, as we now
know, is derived from the union of two bodies which have affinities or
attractions for one another. Thus, if I wind up a clock, moved by a
weight, I separate the mass of lead in the weight from the earth, for
which it has the kind of affinity or attraction known as gravitation.
This attraction then draws together the weight and the earth ; and, in
doing so, the energy I put into it is given out as motion of the clock.
Similarly with coal and air : the hydrogen and carbon of the coal have
affinities or attractions toward the oxygen of the air, and when I bring
them together at a high temperature (of which more hereafter) they
rush into one another's embrace to form carbonic acid and water, while
their energy is given off as heat or motion of the surrounding bodies.
We might have whole minefuls of coal at our disposal ; but if we had
no oxygen to unite with it, the coal would be of no more use than so
much earth or stone. In ordinary life, however, the supply of oxygen
is universal and abundant, while the supply of coal is limited ; and so,
as we have to lay in coals, while we find the oxygen laid in for us, we
always quite disregard the latter factor in our fires, and speak as though
the fuel were the only important element concerned. Yet one can easily
imagine a state of things in which oxygen might be deficient ; and in a
world so constituted it would have to be regularly laid on in pipes, like
gas or water, if the people wished to have any fires.

All energy, then, is derived from the separation of two or more
bodies having affinities for one another. So long as the bodies remain
separate, the energy is said, in the technical slang of physics, to be
potential y as soon as the bodies unite, and the energy is manifested
as motion, it is said to be Jcinetic. But these words are rather mystify-
ing to ordinary readers, and frighten us by their bigness and their ab-
stract sound ; so I shall take the liberty of altering them for our present
purpose to dormant and active respectively, which are terms quite as
well adapted to express the meaning intended, and not half so likely to
land us in an intellectual cul-de-sac, or to envelop us in a logical fog.

8o2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

When we take a piece of coal and a lot of free oxygen, we possess
energy in the dormant state. But though the oxygen has strong at-
tractions for the carbon and hydrogen, they can not unite, because their
atoms do not come into close contact with one another, and because the
two last-named substances are bound up in the solid form of the coal.
We might compare their condition to that of a weight suspended by a
string, which has strong attractions toward the earth, but can not unite
with it till we cut the string. Just analogous is our action when we
apply a match to the coal. The heat first disintegrates or disunites
little atoms of the hydrocarbons which make it up, and sets them in a
state of rapid vibration among themselves. This vibration brings them
into contact with the atoms of oxygen, which at once unite with them,
causing a fresh development of heat, and a liberation of all the dormant
energy, which immediately assumes the active form. The carbonic acid
and water (or steam) thus produced fly up the chimney, carrying with
them the little bits of unburned coal which we call smoke ; and a current
of fresh oxygen rushes in to unite with the fresh atoms of hydrogen and
carbon which have been disengaged by the energy liberated from their
fellows. So the process continues, till all the coal has been converted
into carbonic acid and water — of course by the aid of a corresponding
quantity of oxygen — and all the energy has been turned loose as heat
upon the room in which we sit and upon the air outside.

In the case of an ordinary fire, where warmth is the single object we
have in view, we only think of the heat, and disregard the other aspects
of the process. But it is clear that an enormous amount of motion has
also been set up by the energy of the free coal and oxygen, as exempli-
fied by the draught up the chimney, and the numerous currents of air
produced by its action within and without the room. Now, in a steam-
engine we deliberately make use of this motion for our own purposes
by a specially devised mechanism. We allow the fire to heat and ex-
pand the water in the boiler, thus transferring to its molecules the
separation which formerly existed between the atoms of the coal and
the oxygen. Then we make the expanded water or steam push up the
piston, and we connect the piston in turn with a crank which sets in
motion the wheels, and so passes on the active energy to the mill, train,
or ship which we desire to move, as the case may be. Thus the dormant
energy of the coals and oxygen is liberated in the active state by their
union, and is finally employed to effect movement in external bodies by
the intermediation of the boiler. Even then the energy does not dis-
appear : for energy, like matter, is indestructible ; but it merely passes
by friction as heat to that wonderful surrounding medium which we call
ether, and is dissipated into the vast void of space, no longer recover-
able by us, though quite as really existent as ever.

In what way, however, has all this to do with the reason for eating
our dinners ? Simply this : Men and other animals may be regarded
from the purely physical point of view as a kind of conscious locomo-

WHY BO WE EAT OUR DINNER? 803

tive steam-engine, with whom food stands in the place of fuel, while
the possible kinds of movement are infinitely more varied and special-
ized. I do not mean to advance any of those " automatic " theories
which have been so current of late years. Whether they are true or
false, they have nothing to do with our present subject. I only want
to put in a plain light an accepted scientific truth. Men differ enor-
mously from steam-engines in their possession of consciousness, wills,
desires, pleasures, pains, and moral feelings ; but they agree with them
in the purely physical mechanism of their motor organs. A man, like
a steam-engine, can not move without his appropriate fuel ; and if the
fuel is not supplied, the fire goes out and the man dies. The exact
manner in which the materials are utilized for keeping up this vital
flame is the question to which we must now address ourselves.

Food-stuffs and coal agree essentially in the chief characteristics
of their chemical constitution. Both consist mainly of hydrogen and
carbon, and both possess energy in virtue of the fact that their affini-
ties for oxygen are not satisfied. Water contains hydrogen, and car-
bonic acid contains carbon ; but we can get no motion out of these,
because in them the oxygen has already united with the atoms for
which it had affinity, and the separation necessary for dormant energy
has ceased to exist. But in bread, meat, potatoes, or coal, the hydro-
gen and carbon remain in their free state, ready to unite with oxygen
whenever the chance is presented to them. All alike obtained their
energy in the same way. The rays of sunlight falling upon the leaves
of their original trees or plants separated the oxygen from the water
and carbonic acid in the air, and built up the free hydrocarbons in
their tissues. The energy which they thus drank in has remained dor-
mant within them ever since : in the case of the bread for a few short
months, in that of the coal for countless millions of geological cycles.
But, however long it may have rested in that latent form, whenever an
opportunity occurs the atoms will reunite with oxygen, and the energy
will once more assume the active shape. There is really only one se-
rious difference between coal and food, and that is that most foods con-
tain another element, nitrogen, as well as carbon and hydrogen ; and
this nitrogen is an absolute necessity for the animal if it is to continue
living. But there are good reasons for suspecting that nitrogen is not
itself a fuel, being rather analogous in its nature to a match, and hav-
ing for its business to set up the first beginnings of a fire, not to keep
the fire going when it has once been lighted. So that this apparent
difference of kind is really seen to be unimportant when we get to the
bottom of the question.

The various matters which an animal eats consist of pure food-stuffs
and of useless concomitant bodies : just as coal consists of pure fuel
and of the useless mineral matter known as ash. When an animal eats
his dinner, the process of digestion and assimilation takes place, and
has the ultimate result of separating the pure food-stuffs from the

8o4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

useless concomitants. The latter bodies are rejected at once ; but the
food-stuffs are taken up by his veins, incorporated with the blood
(which consists of food in different degrees of combustion), and used
for building up the various portions of his body. Supposing the ani-
mal were a mere growing object like a crystal, with no work to perform
and no consequent waste of material, the process would stop here, and
the creature would wax bigger and bigger from day to day, without any
alteration in place or redistribution of assimilated matter. But the
animal is essentially a locomotive machine, and the purpose for which
he has taken in his food is simply that he may use it up in producing
motion. For a while he stores it away in his muscles, or lays it by for
future use as fat ; but its ultimate destination in every instance is just
as truly to be consumed for fuel as is the case with the coal in the
steam-engine.

The food, however, only gives us one half of the necessary materials
for the liberation of dormant energy. Oxygen is needed to give us the
other half. This oxygen we take in whenever we breathe. Animals
like fishes or sea-snails obtain the necessary supply from the water by
means of gills ; for large quantities of oxj-gen are held in solution by
water, and the needs of such comparatively sluggish creatures are not
very great. With them a little energy goes a long way. Air-breath-
ing animals like ourselves, on the other hand, need relatively large
quantities of the energy-yielding gas in order to keep up the constant
movements and high temperature of their bodies. Such creatures, ac-
cordingly, take in the oxygen by great inhalations, and absorb it in
their lungs, where it passes through the thin membrane of the capil-
laries, or very tiny blood-vessels, and so mixes freely with the blood
itself. Thus we have food, supplied to the blood by the stomach, the
exact analogue of the coal in the engine ; and oxygen, supplied to the
blood by the lungs, the exact analogue of the draught in the engine.
Whenever these two substances — the hydrocarbonaceous foods and
the free oxygen — reunite, they will necessarily give out heat and set
up active movements.

The exact place and mode of their recombination we can not yet be
said to fully understand. But even if we did, the details would be suf-
ficiently dry and uninteresting to general readers ; and we know quite
enough to put the subject in a simple and comprehensible form before
those who are willing to accept the broad facts without small criticism.

We may say, then, that the energies of the body are used up in two
principal ways — automatically and voluntarily. The automatic activi-
ties are produced by the steady and constant oxidation of some portion
of the food-stuffs in the blood and tissues. As this oxidation takes
place, it sets up certain regular movements, which compose what is
(very incorrectly) known as the vegetative life in animals. There are
an immense number of these movements always going on within our
bodies, quite apart from our knowledge or will. Such are the beating

WHY BO WE EAT OUR DINNER? 805

of the heart, with the consequent propulsions of blood through the
system ; the expirations and inspirations of the lungs, which supply us
with the oxygen for carrying on these processes; the act of digestion
and assimilation ; and many other minor functions of like sort. But
just as in the case of the steam-engine, so in the human or animal body,
the union of the oxygen with the hydrocarbons, besides producing
motion, liberates heat. This heat keeps the bodies of birds, quadru-
peds, and human beings, which are all very active in their automatic
movements, at a much higher temperature than the surrounding medium ;
while reptiles, fishes, and other " cold-blooded " creatures, having much
less energetic motions of the heart and lungs — which of course betokens
much less oxidation of food-stuffs — have bodies comparatively little
different in warmth from the air or water about them. We thus see in
part why it was that the anaconda and the desert-snail could go so long
without food ; though we can not quite understand that question till
we have examined the voluntary movements as well. It should be
added that, though the latter class of actions also produce heat — as we
all know when we walk about on a cold day to warm ourselves — yet
the temperature induced by the automatic activities of the body alone
is generally sufficient under normal circumstances to keep us comfort-
ably warm. Thus, while we are asleep, only the actions of breathing
and the beating of the heart continue ; but the union of oxygen with
the food-stuffs to produce these movements suffices as a rule to make
bed quite hot enough for all healthy persons ; and if we ever wake up
cold after a good night's rest, we may be sure that our automatic ac-
tivities are not what they ought to be.

The voluntary activities of the body are brought about in a slightly
different manner. Directly or indirectly, they depend upon the union
of oxygen and food-stuffs within the tissues of our locomotive muscles,
the energy so liberated being made use of to bend or extend our bones
or limbs in the particular way we desire. The muscles always contain
(in a healthy and well-fed person) large quantities of s;ich stored-up
food-stuffs ; and the blood supplies them from moment to moment with
oxygen which may unite with the food-stuffs whenever occasion de-
mands. But the union does not here take place regularly and con-
stantly, as in the case of the automatic organs ; it requires to be set up
by an impetus specially communicated from the brain. That seat of
the will is connected with the various voluntary muscles by the living
telegraphic wires which we call nerves ; and when the will determines
that a certain muscle shall be moved, the nerves communicate the dis-
turbance to the proper quarter, the necessary oxidation takes place, and
the muscle contracts as desired. We do not quite know how the nerves
and muscles perform these functions ; but it is pretty certain that the
nitrogen of our foods plays an active part in the process, and that, as I
have already hinted, it acts in a manner somewhat analogous to that of
a match. We may suppose, to put the matter in a familiar form, that

8o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the will sends down a sort of electric spark ' to the muscle ; and that
this spark, lighting up the explosive nitrogen, causes an immediate
union of the oxygen with the constituents of muscle, and so produces
the visible movement.

Of course, voluntary actions, like automatic ones, liberate heat ; but
this heat is generally somewhat in excess of what is required for com-
fort, especially in hot weather. Lower animals, however, which have
no fires and no artificial clothing, require it more than we do to keep
us warm ; and even we ourselves in wintry weather always feel chilly
in the morning until we have had a good brisk walk to set up oxidation,
and consequently liberate enough heat to make us comfortable.

Thus all motion, in the animal as in the steam-engine, depends upon
the union of oxygen with food or body-fuel. It is true that in the ani-
mal body oxygen can unite directly with carbon and hydrogen without
the necessity of a high temper9,ture, which we saw was indispensable in
the case of the coal, in order to bring the two sets of atoms within the
sphere of their mutual attractions. But the difference is probably due
to the diff'erent condition of the hydrocarbonaceous substances within
the animal body ; or else, as others conjecture, to the assumption by
the oxygen of that peculiar state in which it is known as ozone. At
any rate, the two processes do not disagree in any essential particular,
being both cases in which free substances, possessing dormant energy
by virtue of their separation and their affinity for one another, unite to-
gether, and in so doing liberate their energy as heat and visible motion.

There is, however, one important distinction of detail between the
mechanism of a steam-engine and the mechanism of an animal body,
which gives rise to many of the mistaken notions as to the use of food
which we noticed above. In the engine, we put all the coal into the
furnace, and burn it there at once ; while the piston, cylinder, cranks,
and wheels are not composed of combustible material, but of solid iron.
In the animal body, on the other hand, every muscle is at once furnace,
boiler, and piston ; it consists of combustible materials, which unite
with oxygen in the tissues themselves, and set up motion "within the
muscle of which they form a portion. The case is just the same as
though the joints of an engine, instead of being quite rigid, w^ere com-
posed of hollow India-rubber and whalebone, with iron attachments ;
were then filled with coal, oxygen, and water, and possessed the power
of burning up these materials internally and setting up motions in the
India-rubber tubings. Hence the materials in the muscles are always
undergoing change. The carbon and hydrogen which have united with
the oxygen are perpetually forming carbonic acid and water ; and, as

' I am speaking quite raetaphorically and popularly, and do not mean to imply adhe-
sion to the electrical rather than to the isomeric theory of nervous conduction.

^ I purposely simplify and omit details, so as to give the reader a graphic and com-
prehensive picture of the central facts. So long as essentials are not distorted, a good
diagram is far better for educational purposes than an accurate facsimile.

WHY DO WE EAT OUR DINNER? 807

these have lost or given up all their energy, they are naturally of no
more use to the body than the similar carbonic acid and steam which
fly up the draught are of use to the engine. Accordingly, they are taken
up by the stream of blood as it passes, separated from the useful com-
ponents of that compound liquid by an appropriate organ, and rejected
from the body as of no further service.

But their place in the muscle must once more be supplied by fresh
energetic materials ; and these materials are brought to it by the self-
same blood vrhich removes the deenergized waste products. And now
we begin to see why we must eat our dinners or starve. Every time
our heart beats, every time our lungs draw in a breath, a certain amount
of matter in the tissues of the muscles which produced those motions un-
derofoes oxidation, and is carried off in the oxidized form to be cast out
of the body as waste. Every new pulsation or breath requires a certain
new quantity of energetic material, both as food-stuffs and as oxygen ;
and hence we must supply the one from the stomach and the other from
the lungs if we wish to keep the mechanism going. The store of hydro-
carbonaceous matters laid by in the body is generally considerable in
well-fed persons ; for, besides the contents of the muscles themselves,
we have usually a large reserve fund in the shape of fat, ready to be
utilized when occasion arises. Hence, we can get along for a very
short time, if necessary, without food ; because we can fall back, first
upon the fat-reserve, and then upon the muscles and tissues, for ener-
getic materials. But after a time the ceaseless beating of the heart and
movement of the lungs will use up all the available matters, and the
blood will cast off the oxidized product and excrete it from the body ;
till at last no more materials are forthcoming, the whole contents of the
tissues have been oxidized and got rid of, and the heart and lungs must
perforce cease to act, in which case the unhappy victim is said to have
died of starvation. As regards the supply of oxygen, on the other
hand, we are very much more restricted in our power of endurance ;
for we have no large store of this necessary for combustion laid by in
our bodies, and if the supply be cut off for a single moment (as by com-
pressing the throat or suffocating with carbonic acid) the heart and
lungs must cease at once to act, and death takes place immediately.
For of course death, viewed on its purely physical side, means the ces-
sation of that set of activities w^iich results from the union of oxygen
with the food-stuffs in the body.

By this time I hope the reader can see quite clearly what is the
necessity for eating his dinner. If we are to live, we must keep up
the cycle of our bodily activities, and especially those two fundamental
ones, the breathing of the lungs and the beating of the heart. In order
to do this, we must supply the muscles employed with the two energy-
yielding substances, oxygen and hydrocarbons. The supply of oxygen
must be continuous ; in other words, we must never for a moment
leave off breathing ; but the supply of hydrocarbons may be intermit-

8o8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tent, though it must be sufficient on the whole to balance waste. We
must not regard the object of food, however, as being merely to build
up the matter of the body ; we must rather consider it as intended to
recruit the energies of the body. The more active any creature is, both
in its automatic and its voluntary movements, the greater will be the
amount of hydrocarbons consumed or used up in its muscles, and the
greater, consequently, the amount of food and oxygen which it will re-
quire to make up the loss. The tiny humming-bird will need far more
food in a year than the great anaconda with which we began our dis-
course : because the humming-bird has a rapidly moving heart and lungs,
while the cold-blooded snake respires and circulates slowly ; and the
humming-bird darts about perpetually at lightning-speed from flower to
flower, while the snake lies coiled up motionless in its blanket from
year's end to year's end, or only comes out sleepily now and then to
swallow the food which will keep up its vital actions through another
long and lazy fast.

The desert-snail, however, can endure much longer without food
than even the anaconda, because, like so many other moUusca, it can
hibernate. This process of hibernation consists in the inducement of
a state during which the heart ceases to beat, respiration is suspended,
and the animal can hardly be said to live at all. But when warmth and
moisture are once more applied, the heart recommences its action, the
lungs or gills quicken their movements, voluntary locomotion ensues,
and the creature sets out again en the quest for food. Something analo-
gous occurs in the case of the bear, the dormouse, and other hiber-
nating quadrupeds ; but in these instances the vital functions continue
much more in their ordinary state, and are kept up by the supply of
fat Mdiich is dissolved by the blood, and consumed in efi'ecting the neces-
sary automatic actions. The bear, which gees to sleep in the autumn
as sleek and plump as a prize pig, wakes up in the spring a poor, lean
wretch, with only just flesh enough to cover his bones, and carry him
ofi" in search of fresh food. The much more complicated mechanism of
the higher animals requires to be kept always in action ; it can not cease
almost entirely, like that of the snail, and then revive again when cir-
cumstances become more favorable. Hence hibernating mammals must
lay by fat during the summer to keep their principal organs at work
during the long winter fast. Yet, even among human beings, cases of
" trance " or " suspended animation " occasionally occur, during which
the cycle of vital actions almost entirely ceases to all appearance for a
considerable time, and then begins again on the application of some
external or internal stimulus — which latter may be not unaptly com-
pared to the slight shaking which we sometimes give a watch or clock
to set it going when stopped by a momentary impediment. Persons re-
covered from drowning, in whom the cessation of action has been quite
sudden and has not afi'ected the structure of their organs, are often thus
restored by the judicious use of rubbing and alcohol.

WRY BO WE EAT OUR DINNER? 809

The camel presents a more interesting phenomenon in his well-known
humps. These protuberances consist really of reserve-stores of fat,
which the camel uses, not only for keeping up the action of his heart
and lungs, but also for producing locomotion in his frequent enforced
fasts among the deserts of Arabia or India. The humps dwindle away
as he marches, in a manner exactly similar to that of the bear's fat dur-
ing his hibernation, only of course much more rapidly, as they have so
much more work to perform.

Finally, it may appear strange that the small amount of food we eat
should suffice to carry our large and bulky bodies through all the varied
movements of the day. But this difficulty disappears at once when we
recollect how large an amount of energy can be laid by dormant in a
very small piece of matter. A lump of coal no bigger than one's fist,
if judiciously employed, will suffice to keep a small toy-engine at work
for a considerable time. Now, our food is matter containing large
amounts of dormant energy, and our bodies are engines constructed so
as to utilize all the energy to the best advantage. A single gramme
of beef-fat, if completely burned (that is, if every atom unites with
oxygen), is capable of developing more than 9,000 heat-units ; and each
such heat-unit, if employed to perform mechanical work, is capable of
lifting a weight of one gramme to a height of 424 metres ; or, what comes
to the same thing, 424 grammes to a height of one metre. According-
ly, the energy contained in one gramme of beef -fat (and the oxygen with
which it unites) would be sufficient to raise the little bit of fat itself to
a height of 3,816 kilometres, or about as high as from London to New
York. Again, it may seem curious that the food eaten by the anaconda
in South America, and stored up in its tissues, should suffice to keep up
the action of its heart and lungs for so many months. But then we
must remember that it performed very few other movements, most prob-
ably, during all that time ; and if we think how small an amount of
energy we expend in winding up an eight-day clock, and how infinitesi-
mal a part of our dinner must have been used up in imparting to it the
motion which will keep it swinging and ticking for one hundred and
ninety-two hours, we can easily understand how the large amount of
stored-up energy in the snake's muscles might very well serve to keep
up its automatic actions for so long a time.

There are five hundred other little points which this mode of re-
garding our bodies at once clears up. It shows us why we are warmer
after eating a meal, why cold is harder to endure when we are hungry,
why we need so little food when we are lying in bed inactive, and so
much when we are taking a walking tour or training for a boat-race,
why cold-blooded animals eat so rarely and warm-blooded creatures so
often, why we get thin when we take too little food, and why we lay on
fat when we take too little exercise. But these and many other ques-
tions must be passed over in silence, or left to the reader's discrimina-
tion, lest I should make this paper tediously long. It must suffice for the

TOL. XIT. — 52

8io THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

present if I have given anj' of my readers a more rational reason in
future for eating their dinners. To be sure, Nature herself has admira-
bly provided that even the most unscientific person should find suffi-
cient internal conviction as to the desirability of dining without the aid
of extraneous exhortation ; but it is at least some comfort to know that
so universal and so unreasoning a practice is not altogether an unrea-
sonable one as well. — Belgravia.

-♦♦♦-

THE ORIGIN OF UPLAND LAKES.

By Eev. J. CLIFTON WARD, F. G. S.

WHO has not felt a sudden and intense pleasure when, rounding
the end of some mighty mountain or towering crag, the still
waters of an upland lake or tarn have first met the eye ? Perhaps, on
approach, wild birds have started from the smooth surface and left it a
little sea of shimmering gold, as the sun's light has been reflected from
each tiny wavelet. The raven's croak among the overhanging cliffs,
the patch of snow lying unmelted deep in a rocky fissure, the scattered
sheep browsing carelessly on the few grassy slopes, while all around
are masses of tumbled rock, and the light veil of cloud that ever and
anon sweeps the cliff-tops and adds an air of mystery and wonder to
the whole — all combine to make a scene which can not but send a thrill
of pleasure and perhaps of happy awe to every heart. Instinctively
one feels, if the power of expression be not present, what Nature's true
poet hath so truly sung :

.... How divine

The liberty, for frail, for mortal man,

To roam at large among unpeopled glens

And mountainous retirements, only trod

By devious footsteps ; regions consecrate

To oldest time! and, reckless of the storm

That keeps the raven quiet in her nest,

Be as a presence or a motion — one

Among the many there.

No one can wander over rugged and beautiful mountains without
being led to love and admire these calm sheets of water, which lie
nestled in hollows, and are ofttimes blackened by the shadow of encir-
cling cliffs. Love for such solitary spots soon excites our cviriosity as
to the origin of these miniature upland lakes. In the Cumbrian lake
district they are scattered broadcast over the country in far greater
numbers than most people imagine, and at a period not vastly remote
their number must have been more than double what it is now. But
the yearly waste of mountain-side and the matter brought down by

THE ORIGIN OF UPLAND LAKES. 8ii

every stream have filled up many a mountain pool, and frequent peat-
mosses mark the spot where once the waters danced in the mountain
breeze. Whence these hollows ? What is their origin ? Do we see
in them the relics of volcanic effort ? Are the combs {cwm), coves, or
corries in which they lie the vestiges of volcanic craters, as the form of
many at first, perhaps, suggests ? Or have we here hollows produced
directly by surface action ? Again, are these hollows of great depth,
or are they shallow ? What is their general form ? Now, there is
little doubt that most people, if asked to draw the form of the hollow
in which the waters of a tarn now He so placidly, would grossly exag-
gerate its true depth, or perhaps liken it to the basin formed by plac-
ing the two hands together, side by side, curved, with the palms upper-
most. Some years since I took a number of soundings among the Cum-
brian lakes and tarns, and communicated the results of my examination
to the Geological Society (" Quarterly Journal of the Geological So-
ciety," vol. XXX., p. 96, and vol, xxxi., p. 152). .Hold out one hand, palm
uppermost, and straighten it as much as possible — the hollow in the
palm is yet far too deep to represent with truth the natural rock basin.
Soundino-s taken in lakes throug-hout the district all show the same
thing — the basins are very shallow compared with their size and the
height of the surrounding hills.

Next, let us search out the origin of these shallow basins. At the
outset we distinguish tv,'o classes of action, one of which must have
been at work. Either the matter formerly filling the hollow has been
dug out and carried away by some agent working at the surface ; or
force from below has here sought a vent, and dispersed the matter far
and wide ; or, from failing support, the ground has sunk at this spot
into a hollow.

First we will consider the upward or downward theory. If these
numerous mountain hollows, with included tarns, be of volcanic origin,
then it is clear we shall find the signs of a crateral hollow such as we
see them in many parts of the world at the present day. There are no
such signs. It is true that in many cases the surrounding rocks are of
volcanic origin ; but the volcanic beds, in their he and position, show
no manner of relation to the tarn-hollows ; and a little study of the
rocks of the district and the form of the ground clearly shows that the
volcanoes which gave rise to the ashes and lavas forming many of Cum-
bria's highest mountains, were active, not as but yesterday, but in un-
told ages past. Then, as to the doionward or special depression theory,
when we can conceive such minute subsidences taking place at a great
number of almost microscopic spots without affecting the rocks around,
or leaving an}' evidence of a sinking away, "we may admit it as possible.

If not produced by expulsion of matter outward or sinking of mat-
ter inward, these hollows must be the effect of some surface-working
agent. The sea planes away along the coast-line, and the material
goes io fill up ocean-hollows ; therefore the sea can not be the agent.

812 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and any force in an ocean current is clearly out of the question over
these scattered sx)Ots. Streams and rivers work along lines, form
ravines and gorges, but never a more or less circular basin of great size
in comparison with the stream, or river ; hence they can not be the
agents. The atmospheric powers — rain, snow, wind, and chemical
action — weather the rocks indeed, form tiny basins on almost every
stone ; but this is but nature's fretwork, the delicate carving around
the sculptured craggy tower or spire and smooth-scooped rocky front.
Yet there is one surface agent remaining, the moving glacier. Most
people are familiar with the proofs of former glacial action in Cumber-
land and Wales — proofs as clear as are those of the former greater ex-
tension of the Swiss glaciers. Now by far the greater number of our
tarns lie in true rock basins — hollows completely inclosed by rocky
sides, which are, moreover, smoothed and grooved in a manner peculiar
to ice-action. At the sides of many a tarn and lake you may see the
ice grooves and scratches passing beneath the water, so as to leave no
doubt whatever that ice has once occupied the rocky hollow. The
question is. Did the ice-movement form the hollow? I believe that
in most cases it did, and for these reasons : 1. The tarn lies almost in-
variably in the path of old ice streams or glaciers, as is proved by the
direction of the scratches in the surrounding rocks. 2. l^hey frequently
occur at the foot of slopes more or less steep, or where the ice-pressure
can be shown to have been great. 3. The position of the deepest
points in the larger tarns and lakes occurs almost invariably where,
from the confluence of two or more glaciers or the narrowing of the
valley, the ice-pressure must have been someAvhat increased. 4. The
depth of these tarns is very slight as compared with the thickness of
the ice which can be proved to have passed over them. 5. There is
every gradation from a tiny, rock-bound pool, glaciated on all sides,
and which all will admit must have been scooped out by the ice, to
the tarn or lake showing precisely similar phenomena on a larger
scale.

Since the ice-plow passed over our land the atmospheric powers
have been at work for a long period ; and while many rock basins are
now completely filled up by stream-borne matter, all are being so filled,
and each age must witness a decrease in the number and size of those
sheets of water which form so marked a character of our Cumbrian
scenery.

Before quitting this subject, however, I must remark that there
are a few tarns which seem to me to owe the whole or a part of their
depth to a moraine dam. That is to say, the rock basin is imperfect
on one side, and there an old glacial moraine may have helped to dam
the waters back ever since the retreat of the glacier which threw off
the moraine. It frequently happens that a little moraine material has
been left upon ice-rounded rocks at the foot of a tarn, and in such
cases a hasty observation might lead one to believe that the whole

SKETCH OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY, 813

mound was a moraine. Let us remember, then, that a tarn may lie in
a complete rock basin, ice-formed ; in a glaciated hollow dammed on
the lower side by a moraine or other accumulation of rocky debris y or
it may owe part of its depth to a rock-inclosed hollow, and part to a
morainic dam. Therefore, on a summer's day, as we lie dreamily
gazing upon the rippling waters of these mountain tarns, we may
sometimes think of an age which is past, when the ice-sheet moved
majestically over the now heather-clad fells, and all the country lay
"clad in white samite, mystic, wonderful." — Popular Science Review.

-♦•♦-

SKETCH OF Sm HUMPHRY DAVY.

HUMPHRY DAVY, one of the world's greatest chemists, and the
discoverer of the electric light, was born December 17, 1778, at
Penzance, in Cornwall. His father, a wood-carver and gilder by trade,
died in 1794, leaving his widow and five children, the oldest of whom
was Humphry, in destitute circumstances.

Humphry was a strong, active, healthy child, and gifted with a sin-
gularly retentive memory. Sent to an elementary school at the age
of six, he made such rapid progress that soon the master had him
transferred to the town grammar-school. In his boyhood he manifest-
ed a strong liking for open-air sports — riding, fishing, shooting, and
the like — also for making collections of natural-history specimens. This
bias was anything but pleasing to his teachers and guardians, who
feared that, unless he gave more time and attention to his book-lessons,
he would grow up to be a ne'er-do-well. Fishing was his favorite
amusement. When a little child he was to be seen after every rain —
and rains are exceptionally frequent at Penzance — fishing in the street-
gutters. At nine years of age he went to live in the household of a
Mr. Tonkin, a friend of his mother's family, resident at Varfell, a little
village in Mount's Bay. The site of Varfell is a charming one, and the
surrounding country is rich in minerals. Young Davy, who was of a
poetic temperament, was at home in this delightful nook, and what
with his shooting, fishing, and collecting, his days were full of enjoy-
ment. Evidently he loved nature rather than books, and though his
guardian feared that his studies — if study that may be called which was
all play — were taking a wrong direction, he was in reality acquiring the
rudiments of a very solid education — acquaintance with nature's ways.
The little child who fished in the gutters of Penzance later wrote that
charming work, " Salmonia, or Days of Fly-Fishing," wherein, mingled
with notes of his piscatorial exploits in the trout-streams of the Aus-
trian Alps, are philosophical reflections on the deepest problems of the
universe. As a boy he loved to roam among the hills of his native

8 14 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Cornwall ; in the fullness of his fame he was passionately fond of trav-
eling, and his latest book was " Consolations of Travel " — the work of
a dying Plato, as it was called by Cuvier.

On the death of his father, Davy, who was then just entering on his
sixteenth year, was apprenticed to Mr. Borlase, apothecary and surgeon
of Penzance. He now resolved to begin a systematic course of study,
literary and scientific. In his boyish ardor, the task he set himself
was nothing less than the acquisition of universal knowledge. His
MSS. of this period contain the germs of many of the thoughts which
found more perfect expression in his maturer writings. In his note-
books, a voluminous collection of which he left behind him, he was ac-
customed to make a record of every chance observation, and of every
more important thought which occurred to his mind. Says a writer in
the "Chemical News," to whom we are indebted for many of the partic-
ulars of Davy's career contained in the present sketch : " Observations
of every kind and sort are included in these pages. At one time he notes
down a peculiarity of flight in a swallow, at another a philosophical
or theological puzzle, at another the anomalous behavior of certain re-
agents, with a view to further investigation ; whatever, in fact, he ob-
serves, down it goes for future reference or consideration."

In 1796 he read Lavoisier's "Elements of Chemistry," and so was
led to the experimental study of that scipnce, in which later he at-
tained the highest eminence. The following year he began to write his
" Researches on Light and Heat," published in 1799. One of his first
chemical researches had for its object to determine the nature of the
air which fills the vesicles of common sea-weed ; and he demonstrated
that the marine plants act upon the air precisely in the same way as
the terrestrial, by decomposing carbonic acid under the influence of the
sun's rays. These physical and chemical researches won for him in 1798
an invitation from Dr. Beddoes, director of the " Pneumatic Institution "
at Clifton — a sort of hospital for the treatment of pulmonary diseases
by the inhalation of different gases — to become his assistant. Having
removed to CUfton, Davy made use of the facilities which the Pneu-
matic Institution afforded for studying the physiological effects of vari-
ous gases — as nitrous oxide (laughing-gas), carbonic acid, nitrogen, etc.
These experiments more than once came very nea?r being fatal to the
venturesome young chemist, and indeed his health was seriously im-
paired, so that he was forced for a time to intermit his researches.
While at Clifton he also took up the subject of galvanism, and thus
laid the foundations for bis brilliant discoveries in electro-chemistry.

In 1801 Count Rumford offered him the position of lecturer on
chemistry in the London Royal Institution, which he had recently
founded. This post he held for one year, and then was formally ap-
pointed Professor of Chemistry in the same institution. Davy was a
remarkably handsome man, of good stature, gifted with great elo-
quence, and above all an enthusiast. His lectures at once became the

SKETCH OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. 815

talk of the town, and the highest ranks of society began to throng the
theatre of the Royal Institution whenever Davy was announced to give
a lecture. He was, as the saying goes, the lion of the metropolis, and
was carried away by the tide of fashionable life. During the hours of
the day he attended to his duties at the Boyal Institution, and pursued
his scientific researches with the same ardor as ever, but he " devoted
the evening to social intercourse with the aristocracy of birth and
brain, with all the thoroughness of his nature."

In 1802-'3 he delivered a course of lectures on agricultural chemis-
try. These lectures were afterward published under the title of " Ele-
ments of Agricultural Chemistry," and the work passed through many
editions at home, besides being translated into almost every language
of Europe. His observations on the chemistry of tanning were pub-
lished in 1803 in the " Philosophical Transactions." His researches on
electro-chemistry, begun at Clifton, were continued at the Royal Insti-
tution. His two famous " Bakerian Lectures," the first on the laws
of electricity in relation to chemical combination, and the second on
the results of the application of these laws, were delivered in 1806 and
1807 respectively. He discovered the base potassium October 6, 1807 ;
sodium and other bases soon afterward. We are told that " when he
saw the globules of potassium appear and take fire as they entered the
air, his delight was so great that for some time he could not compose
himself sufficiently to continue the experiment." Indeed, his mental
labor and the excitement over his discoveries had such an efi'ect on his
general constitution, that for several weeks he lay seriously ill. On
his recovery he presented to the Royal Institution the battery of two
thousand cells with which he had made these great discoveries. It
was with this battery that, in 1813, he produced for the first time the
electric light. When the current from this pile was passed between
two pointed pieces of wood charcoal, attached to conducting wires, a
light was produced of such dazzling brilliancy as to be comparable only
with sunlight. The length of this electric arc was four inches.

In 1803 he was elected a Fellow of the London Royal Society. He
was knighted in 1813, and the same year married a wealthy widow,
Mrs. Apreece. His "Elements -of Chemical Philosophy" were pub-
lished this year. He now resigned his professorship at the Royal In-
stitution, and in the following year visited the Continent of Europe.
At Paris he was received with distinguished honor by the Academy of
Sciences, and demonstrated to that august body that iodine is an ele-
ment. He remained abroad some two years, in t^he mean time diligently
pursuing his chemical researches. At Florence he investigated the na-
ture of the diamond, which he proved to be an allotropic form of car-
bon. His researches on colors and on the iodine compounds were also
carried on during this period.

In 1815 he made the tour of Scotland, and on his homeward journey
visited the coal districts of England. A committee of colliery proprie-

8i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tors waited on him to induce him to study the causes of the numerous
explosions of fire-damp which were annually attended with fearful loss
of life. He began his investigation by analyzing the gas and ascertain-
ing in what proportions its mixture with air renders it most explosive.
Having observed that the combustion was not communicated through
tubes of small dimensions, he gradually reduced the length of the tubes
till he found that a simple metallic gauze, with spaces not exceeding
-^^ of an inch square, was sufficient to prevent the burning gas on the
one side from igniting the explosive mixture on the other. On this
principle he constructed his " safety-lamp."

At the recent celebration of the centenary of Davy's birth, held at
his native town of Penzance, it vras remarked by one of the orators, a
colliery proprietor, that but for the discovery of Davy's lamp some of
the best seams of coal in England would have remained unworked, or
could only have been worked at such cost that none but the rich could
afford to use coal. "Davy's lamp," he further said, "is still the best,
and if properly constructed, and used in conjunction with efficient ven-
tilation, is an infallible guide to the presence of dangerous gases."

Urged to have his lamp patented, Davy made this noble reply : "My
sole object was to serve the cause of humanity ; and if I have succeeded
I am amply rewarded in the gratifying reflection of having done so."
In 1817 the colliery owners and miners of England presented Davy with
a magnificent service of plate worth £2,500. This was bequeathed to
the Royal Society by Lady Davy, who directed it to be sold and the
proceeds applied to the encouragement of science.

In 1818 Davy was created a baronet. The same year he again
visited the Continent, traveling extensively in Germany, Hungary, and
Italy. The possibility of unrolling the Herculanean papyri engaged
his attention while in Naples, and he published observations on vol-
canic phenomena, and on Oersted's electro-magnetic experiments. He
was elected President of the Royal Society in 1820, and held that office
for seven years. In 1823 he succeeded in devising a method of pre-
venting the corrosion of the copper sheathing on ships' bottoms.

He now fell into ill health, and but little scientific work was done
during the remaining years of his life. Three or four times he visited
the Continent, but received little benefit from the change of scene and
of climate. He died at Geneva, May 29, 1829, and there, in accordance
with his own wishes, was buried. His widow founded a prize in his
honor, to be awarded biennially by the Geneva Academy of Sciences
for " the most original and important discovery in chemistry."

EDITOR'S TABLE.

817

EDITOR'S TABLE.

SCIEyCE IN RELATION TO WAR.

HOW the art of war, by the pow-
erful stimulus it has given to the
investigatiou of the properties of pro-
jectiles and numerous kindred research-
es, has been an efficient promoter of
progress in physical science, is well un-
derstood. The strife among engineers
to construct guns that shall be able to
pierce any barrier, and to construct
barriers that shall resist all guns, has
led to results in improving the quality
of metals which could hardly have been
gained in any other way.

It is not, however, this aspect of
the science of war that here interests
us ; but rather its ethical side, or the
excuses that can be offered for it as a
part of the policy of Nature. An Eng-
lish writer * has recently gone into the
subject, and attempted a scientific de-
fense of the general and permanent hab-
it of war which it is important to no-
tice, in order that science may not be
perverted to false and injurious ends.

The writer with whose views we are
now concerned points out in an inter-
esting manner in what way science has
operated to alleviate the hoi-rors of
war, to shorten its duration, and tem-
per its effects. He remai'ks that in the
days of the old smooth-bore, when it
was a maxim not to fire till the whites
of the opponents' eyes were visible, it
was said to take a man's weight in lead
and iron to kill him, so many bullets
and cannon-balls were fired ineffectual-
ly ; but now, owing to the increased
distance at which firing takes place
and to the general use of earthworks,
it is still more difficult to do execution.
The statistics given by the writer strong-
ly corroborate this view. He says the
average number of killed and wounded

* "The Philosophy of War," by James Ram.

on both sides in the great Napoleonic
battles taken collectively was a little
over one fourth of the whole forces en-
gaged ; while the average in the great
European battles fought within the last
thirty years, since the general introduc-
tion of arms of precision, gives a little
less than one twelfth. We are also re-
minded that the more improved moii-
ern warfare engenders less hatred be-
tween the conflicting parties. " Before
the invention of gunpowder, when fight-
ing was conducted at comparatively
close quarters, soldiers fought with an
animosity which is now rarely seen. The
man who was to take your life unless you
took his, projected himself before you
dangerous and hateful, but under the
present system wounds seem to come
from some impersonal agency ; a man
is less vividly impressed with the per-
sonality of his foe, who, like the Ethi-
opians, is blameless because he is far
away, and whose individuality is lost at
the distance of a quarter of a mile,
where he is taking shots at you from
behind a hedge. But in ancient times
great bodies of men once interlocked in
conflict could not be drawn off till ut-
terly exhausted with mutual slaughter,
and hence we read of such battles as
Cannae, where on the Eoman side alone,
according to Polybius, out of 86,000
men not much more than 15,000 pris-
oners or fugitives came off unhurt ; and
Cressy, where there perished of the
French on the field or in the pursuit
between 30,000 and 40,000 men— bat-
tles in which the wounded and disabled
experienced in butchery that cruelty to
which in brave minds the frenzied fears
attending close conflict can alone give
rise."

Our new philosopher of war is quite
ready to concede its evils, its calamities,
and its horrors — its terrible waste of

8i8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

treasure, blood, and life. He says mil-
lions of men all over Europe are at this
moment idling away their time in de-
moralizing barrack-life, trained among
much physical and mental deprivation
to no art but that of destroying each
other skillfully, which is much as if they
had been usefully employed and the
products of their labor then cast into
the sea. We are reminded of the im-
mense amount of work bestowed upon
a first-class ironclad, which is liable to
be sent to the bottom in an instant.
She may have cost $2,000,000 and her
equipment another half million; so that
if the ordinary laboring man earns
$250 a year, on the average of twenty
years of working life we have the whole
life's labor of 500 men destroyed by the
single loss of such a ship. Blood and
health are precious ; war spills the for-
mer and impairs and destroys the latter
on an appalling scale. As to the waste
of life, it is of course incalculable ; yet,
if there be a money estimate of it, the
result is shocking. Laboring men are
capital in society, and it is a very mod-
erate estimate to assume them from
this point of view as worth $2,500 a
piece. A battle, therefore, in Avhich
20,000 men are killed, annihilates $50,-
000,000 of capital in human beings alone.
The sufferings of war are conceded
to be indescribable. Mr. Earn remarks :
" Of all incidents of battle the one which
impresses itself most strongly on my
imagination is that of Borodino, where
60,000 French and Eussians were left
upon the ground; the groans of the
wounded in the ensuing night sounded
at a distance like the roar of the sea.
The far-off listener might expect to
hear outcries of pain and distress from
such a scene, that screams of agony
should arise from instant to instant, and
that the doleful, piercing note should be
taken up from this point and from that,
and that night should be made hideous
by this inarticulate misery. But here
w^as no such intermittent lamentation.
From amid 20,000 corpses arose a

hoarse, uniform, unceasing roll of the
anguish of 40,000 men ! "

How, then, are we to regard these
practices? Our author says that we
must turn to Nature to find how she re-
gards such things. Is war an exception
to her course, or does she regard men
fighting as a naturalist looks on tribes
of ants destroying each other ? The an-
swer is, that Nature is absolutely piti-
less. Her eyes never fill with tears.
She multiplies to destroy, and destroys
without mercy.

"Her taller trees debar the meaner
shrubs from sun and breeze. It is no-
thing to her that the more lowly plants
in the forest wither and pine for light
and air. It is her will that the weak-
est should go to the w^all. Eavin is the
condition of the existence of half her
creatures; and at this moment, as all
around tins sea-girt ball the strong ani-
mals prey upon the weak for their daily
sustenance, more skins are being pierced
and torn, more bones being crushed,
more blood being shed, in the far-off
places of the earth than twenty Eusso-
Turkish wars going on together would
involve. Are we to be told that Nature
enjoins these things, and yet is out-
raged by men tearing and rending each
other? Still she is not simply indif-
ferent. She appears to have a pur-
pose in all this. She knows that the
world is not rich enough for all. She
keeps it upon principle in a condition
of over-population. She thinks it bet-
ter that the strong should crowd out
the weak than that the weak should
crowd out the strong by mere dint of
numbers under any protective system.
She seems to desire the greatest good
possible in the world, and her means to
this end is the selection of the fittest,
with the extermination of the less fit ;
the selection of the most highly organ-
ized in body, which includes the most
highly organized in mind. In her care
for the type she disregards individual
men and individual races.

" The excellence of man himself i-s

EDITOR'S TABLE.

819

the outcome of continual fighting among
species of anthropoid animals involving
the continual destruction of the weaker
by the stronger and the constant selec-
tion of the fittest to survive. It is cu-
rious to note that it is not those most
distantly below us in the scale that we
are chiefly eager to destroy. It is gen-
erally those who more nearly approach
to us in gradation and who consequently
clash with us, that we destroy. Those
whose complete inferiority prevents us
from fearing them escape. At the pres-
ent time, Nature is doing much more by
human agency to destroy Eed Indians
and native Australians than to exter-
minate gorillas. No links have so great
a tendency to disappear altogether as
those which are nearest to ourselves in
the chain. As man ascends the ladder
he kicks off those who stand on the next
step below him. This habit has in time
created an immense gap between us and
some of those through whose condition
our race has once passed — a gap so wide
as to make it almost impossible for any
but studious men to realize that there
is indeed any solidarity between us and
the lowly forefathers ascribed to our
species."

There is much truth, no doubt, in this
view of the operations of Nature, but
it is far from the whole truth as relates
to the morality of war. It certainly
will not do to excuse private violence
and offer a defense of crime on the
ground that Nature is also ruthless and
violent. And if individuals may not
plead the example of Nature to justify
their injurious interference with others,
neither may nations. Tliat war was
indispensable in the lower stages of
society when brute force predominated,
and became a means of enforcing those
subordinations which led to social order,
may be freely admitted. But if old
practices are to go on for ever, what
becomes of progress? The essence of
evolution is transformation — the substi-
tution of higher agencies for lower in the
unfolding economy of the world. War

is one of the things that must certainly
be left behind if there is to be any ad-
vancing or upward movement. It is
the old and deadly enemy of the pacific
and constructive forces of society, which
have nevertheless made way against it,
and which may be expected in the fu-
ture to gather a strength that will re-
deem society from the baneful influence
of the military spirit.

AN HIS7VRIAIPS NOTION OF LINGUAL
STUDY.

We referred last month to the re-
vival of the old classical controversy
consequent upon the proposal to drop
compulsory Greek from the curriculum
of the University of Cambridge, in Eng-
land. The controversy grows warm in
various quarters. Mr. Freeman, the his-
torian, comes forward in the " Fort-
nightly Eeview" to discuss the ques-
tion, " Shall we give up Greek ? " and
uses the occasion to go into the general
subject. He regards the present spasm
of controversy as not very serious, in-
asmuch as he has had experience of
such things before, and thinks it is
merely part of a system of curious in-
tellectual cycles, the causes of which
would perhaps form fit subject for the
philosophical statistician. Mr. Freeman
says there was a sharp brush over the
question in 1871, in which he took a
part, and that we are now engaged in
merely reproducing the old arguments
and the old answers.

But Mr. Freeman betrays, in his
treatment of the subject, the conscious-
ness that it is advancing, and that these
rhythmic disputes are bringing about
very serious changes of opinion. He
pleads strongly for Greek, but seems
to feel that it is doomed, and is decided
in his conviction that, if but one of the
classical tongues is to be retained, it
must be Latin.

His general position in relation to
the question is much the same as that
so elaborately put forth by John Stuart

820

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Mill in his celebrated St. Andrew's dis-
course ; ia both cases we are presented
with a grand picture of the intellectual
advantages derivable from the acquisi-
tion of many languages, and their com-
prehensive philosophical study. Against
this, as we have often said, there is, in
itself, nothing to urge. It is an entirely
proper thing for men of capacity, whose
tastes lead them in this direction, to
give their lives to linguistic philosophy,
and the acquirement of many languages.
But, for ordinary students in college,
this is simi^ly futile and impossible, and
we have here the perpetual fallacy of
the advocates of classical studies. Ex-
perience in the universities of all coun-
tries and for centuries, and everywhere
attested to-day, assures us that this
ideal classical accomplishment is not at-
tained, nor anything approaching it.
Mr. Freeman says : '' If Greek and Latin
study could never come to anything
more than that kind of scholarship
which in its highest form corrected the
text of a Greek play and made Greek
iambics and Latin elegiacs — which in
its lowest form turned out that fearful
form of bore which is ready at every
moment with a small scrap of Horace
or Virgil — if this is all that comes of
Greek and Latin study, we might be
tempted to say. Perish Greek and Latin
study!" But what else do we get, or
can we get, but that sort of scholarship
from the great mass of students in col-
leges ? He thinks that teaching can be
improved so as to yield better results,
but that has been the illusion of hun-
dreds of years. The failure and defeat
of classical studies has been the oppro-
brium of the universities for genera-
tions, and from the time of Milton to
the present there have been loud calls
for reform and improvement in the
modes of classical instruction ; but the
changes have not come, and the old re-
sults continue, nor is any such reform
possible. The vice of our system of
higher studies is the enormous dispro-
portion between the study of language

and the period allowed for education,
or even the common length of life.
Mr. Freeman says : " I believe, then, that
if we can only learn all tongues in a
rational way, we may keep our Greek
and our Latin, and bring in our Ger-
man, our Fi-ench, our Italian, above all
our English, in their due places along-
side of them." Two results must ever
follow from the attempt to realize any
such ideas in practice : First, such a
predominance of lingual study must
effectually exclude all other most im-
portant subjects from the curriculum ;
and, second, the acquisition of the lan-
guages themselves will generally be so
miserably imperfect that the higher
ends aimed at will not be reached. At
the foundation this acquisition of lan-
guages is a problem of cerebral dynam-
ics. The learning of a language exhausts
a very considerable portion of the plas-
tic power of the brain. The acquisition
of six languages is, of course, a stiU
more enormous draft upon the cerebral
energy, and there must be very con-
siderable native capacity if so many
forms of speech are thoroughly acquired
so as to be brought into relations of
critical comparison for philological pur-
poses. Not one student in twenty, nor
indeed one in a hundred, will ever do
this, and the great mass of them wiU
fall so lamentably short of it that the
time given to the study is essentially
wasted. Let languages, ancient and
modern, living and dead, be pursued to
any extent by tliose who are drawn to
the study and propose to devote them-
selves to this line of scholarship. What
we protest against, and what the com-
mon sense of the age undoubtedly con-
demns, is this tenacious and self-de-
feating ascendancy of extinct languages
in the higher education of our youth at
large.

"We say "extinct" languages, but
Mr. Freeman does not like this idea at
all. He objects to regarding Greek and
Latin as " dead, ancient, classical." He
would abolish the current distinction

LITERARY NOTICES.

821

between antiquateJ and recent — ^the liv-
ing and the dead. He says, "I claim
for the Greek tongue its place on the
exactly opposite ground — because it is
not dead but living, because if it is an-
cient, it is mediEBval and modern no
less." This is a new argument for the
so-called ancient and dead languages
that they are not as ordinarily charac-
terized, but are in reality living and
modern. And what else is it but the
nonsensical makeshift of a hard-pushed
advocate? If the Greek and Latin
tongues are still living, why not the
Greek and Latin nations ? If these lan-
guages are not ancient, is there any-
thing ancient? The course of nature
goes on, and materials of all kinds are
used over and over again in unbroken
continuity, but because the present is
thus born of the past, are we to forget
the distinction between the living and
the dead. If the ancient languages are
modern, then of course ancient history,
and ancient philosophy, and ancient art,
are modern history, modern philosophy,
and modern art, and there is no end to
the stupid confusion. We can hardly
congratulate Mr. Freeman on his de-
fense of the cause he has espoused, and
have referred to it merely as illustrating
the best that can be said by a distin-
guished historical writer in defense of
old academical superstitions.

LITERARY NOTICES.

Journal of a Tour in Marocco and the
Great Atlas. By Joseph Dalton
Hooker, K. C. S. I., C. B., Pres. R. S.,
Director of the Royal Gardens, Kew,
etc.; and John Ball, F. R. S., 51. R. I. A.,
etc., with an Appendix including a Sketch
of the Geology of Mavoeco, by George
Maw, F. L. S., F. G. S. Macraillan & Co.
18Y8. Pp. 489. Price, $6.50. Illus-
trated.

The territory of Marocco, which is larger
than Spain, and is within six days' sail of
England, extends along the Mediterranean
from Algeria through the straits of Gibral-
tar to the Atlantic Ocean, and southward to

nearly opposite the Canary Islands, having a
coast-line of fully nine hundred miles. Al-
though so near to Europe, this country, be-
yond its coast, is among the least known
regions of the earth ; but it is supposed to
reach far into the Great Desert on the south-
ern side of the Great Atlas range. It has
been called the China of the West, but it is
even more isolated and impenetrable than
China itself. This scientific expedition to
Marocco was undertaken at the beginning of
April, 1871, and lasted till the middle of
June, but for various reasons the account
of it was not published till 1878. Delay of
publication, however, can make no difference
in the case of Marocco, where it seems there
has been little change during the last two
centuries. For a long time Sir Joseph D.
Hooker had wished to explore the range of
the Great Atlas, to learn whether its vegeta-
tion furnished connecting links between that
of the Mediterranean and the peculiar flora of
the Canary Islands. Maw bad already made
collections of living plants along the coast
of Marocco, and had pushed farther into the
interior than any but one preceding traveler,
and Ball had visited the country in 1851,
but its disturbed state made all exploration
impossible. Now, however, through the in-
tervention of the Foreign Office, the Sultan
of Marocco gave permission for the visit of
these distinguished travelers, and on the
7th of April they reached Tangier, one of
the most important towns of Marocco, thirty-
five miles from Gibraltar, on the coast of
the Mediterranean. It is the residence of
the diplomatic agents sent from other coun-
tries, and consequently the Moorish author-
ities are somewhat under the control of civ-
ilized opinion, and life and property are
tolerably secure. Its neighborhood is the
only part of all Marocco where a naturalist
can wander without an escort of soldiers,
and hence little was known of the flora of
the empire, except collections from the Dje-
bel Kebir or Great Mountain just west of
Tangier. Before goinj^ to south Marocco,
it was needful for their safety and success
that the travelers should have an auto-
graph letter from the Sultan, to prevent the
local authorities from defeating their pur-
pose. They had to wait several days for
this document, and spent the interval in ex-
ploring the Lesser Atlas, with results of ex-

822

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ceeding interest, which are set forth in the
second chapter of the work. The Sultan's
letter at length arrived. It was written " on
a small sheet of inferior paper, folded to the
size of a note, and sealed with coarse sealing-
wax." It was addressed to the Governor of
Mogador, and ran thus : " On receiving
this, you will send the English hakeem, and
his companions to the care of my slave, El
Gradui, to whom I have sent orders what to
do." This slave was the Governor of that
portion of the Great Atlas which it was de-
sired to explore. They started at once for
south Marocco, and reached the port of
Mogador on the 26th. Thanks to the Sul-
tan's letter, the Governor provided for their
safety and comfort during their journey
across the plains from Mogador to Marocco.
They had time to study the region about
Mogador, and their observations, meteorolo-
gical, geographical, zoological, and ethnolo-
gical, as well as botanical, are recorded in
Chapter IV. Chapters V. and VI. narrate
the journey from Mogador to Marocco. The
six following chapters are devoted to the
exploration of the Great Atlas. Chapter
XIII. describes their second stay at Moga-
dor, their return to Tangier and England,
and Chapter XIV. discusses the future pros-
pects of Marocco. The narrative from first
to last is one of absorbing interest, not only
to botanists but to readers of all classes.
The maps and pictures add greatly to the
interest and value of the work. It is
scarcely possible in the space at our dis-
posal to give any fair idea of the work by
means of extracts. The great ability and
experience of the authors are evident not
only in the delightful and instructive ac-
count of each day's proceedings, but equally
in the reflections scattered throughout the
volume upon numerous subjects, suggested
by the physical, social, and political aspects
of this strange country. For instance, in
speaking ofthe climate of north Marocco, we
have the following :

Nothing is more rare than to find a country
where neither the natives nor foreign visitors
have any complaint to make against the climate,
and in this respect Marocco is almost unique.
As regards the season of oar visit, however, our
case was that of nearly all travelers in whatever
country they may find themselves. We had ar-
rived in an exceptional season ! How often is
this fact gravely stated as something remarkable
and unusual in the experience of the narrator,

whereas, if he would but reflect, it merely rep-
resents the common experience of mankind in
most countries of the earth 1 Excepting some
portions of the equatorial zone, where the sea-
sons recur with tolerable constancy, our notions
of the climate of a place are got at by taking an
average among a great many successive sea-
sons. Any one who watches the meteorological
notices, published in our newspapers, must be
aware that if any particular day, week, or month
be compared with the general average for the
same period during a long term of years, he will
find it considerably hotter, or colder, or drier, or
moister, than the corresponding average day,
week, or mouth ; and, when registers have been
kept for a sufficient time in other countries, the
same result will be seen to hold good. Travel-
ers will then be prepared to find that they
should expect to enjoy, or suffer from, an excep-
tional season, and will think it more remarkable
when they happen to alight on a season near to
the average.

We also note the following hint to trav-
elers :

The net result of our short excursion was
not large or brilliant ; but, in the case of a coun-
try so little known as Marocco, the interest of
his collections to a naturalist does not mainly
depend on the rarity or novelty ofthe objects he
may happen to meet. Each plant or animal
carried away contributes an item of informa-
tion respecting the distribution of the organized
world, the value of which it is impossible at the
time to estimate. Travelers who happen to visit
little-known countries would do well lo remem-
ber that with the most trifling trouble they may
make useful contributions to natural science, by
preserving specimens of the most insignificant-
looking objects, provided always that these are
afterward placed in the hands of competent nat-
uralists.

International Scientific Series, No. XXV.
Education as a Science. By Alexan-
der Bain, LL. D., Professor of Logic in
the University of Aberdeen. New York :
D. Appleton' & Co. Pp. 453. Price,
$1.75.

In the maturity of his studies as an
original investigator of the science of mind,
and in the ripeness of his experience as a
practical teacher in the higher sphere, Pro-
fessor Bain has suspended the course of his
customary work to prepare a little treatise
on education, and we have no doubt that,
as it is the latest, so it will be regarded as
the best and most valuable, of his books.
Less formidable than his elaborate volumes
on " The Senses and the Intellect " and " The
Emotions and the Will," the new book is
still very full, and brings us to the more im-
portant application of the views contained

LITERARY NOTICES.

823

in these works. In so far as education de-
pends upon principles, it is capable of be-
ing dealt with as a science ; and, though a
practical art, yet like all other arts it must
be pursued by blhid habit or under rational
guidance. We have pointed out again and
again in this " Monthly " how the science of
mind has been widened in modern times so
as to include its corporeal conditions, and
thus bring the living being into view as a
psychical organism rather than the mere ab-
straction of mind. This is the method of
the modern psychology, the immense su-
periority of which over the old mental phi-
losophy is most apparent in the field of
education. We know nothing of mind ex-
cept as manifested through its organic ma-
chinery. When we consider mind as men-
tal force, it at once becomes complicated
with the bodily energies, and it appears
under limited and quantitative laws, which
it should be the first task of the teacher to
master. Mind and body are developed to-
gether, and the fornrier can not be intelli-
gently led out except under inflexible cor-
poreal restrictions. Professor Bain's long
familiarity with this point of view has spe-
cially and eminently qualified him to pre-
pare a practical manual of school culture
that treats educational questions in detail
in harmony with the present state of knowl-
edge.

It is impossible to give anything like an
adequate analysis of this admirable work
within the limits of an ordinary literary
notice, nor, indeed, is it necessary. Por-
tions of it have already appeared from time
to time in this magazine, by which our
readers have been somewhat informed of
its scope and object. Yet the articles pub-
lished fail to convey any just idea of the
adaptation of the book to the needs of
those engaged in the work of practical in-
struction. Certain important psychological
considerations of a general nature were
brought forward in a way to illustrate their
grave significance, but little, however, was
said of their bearing on the exigencies of
school-work. In the volume these exposi-
tions are recast and thrown into such a
shape that their applications and bearings
are brought out in their full force. The
various current studies in our schools are
taken up systematically, with the view of

determining their educational power, and
how they stand related to the unfolding of
the mental faculties. This is a most im-
portant portion of the work, one hitherto
greatly neglected by educators, and the
conclusions of which require to be sharply
brought out and vigorously enforced. The
waste- of exertion on worthless objects of
study in our schools is something frightful
— objects of trifling worth alike in the in-
formation they give and in the narrow and
imperfect mental discipline they afford. In
regard to the study of languages especially,
Professor Bain's views are entitled to the
most serious attention. The study of lan-
guage, its critical and careful study, Pro-
fessor Bain of course recognizes to be of
the first importance ; but, at the same
time, he maintains that the educating power
of language is enormously over-estimated.
That which is but a preliminary use of
tools, indispensable in itself, but utterly
subordinate to the larger objects beyond,
to which it is but a means and a stepping-
stone, has been exalted into the great end,
and almost the whole time of education is
thus wasted upon initial acquisitions. Pro-
fessor Bain denies that the study of lan-
guage, however extended, can educate in
any real or adequate sense. After con-
sidering this subject, and laying down the
principles that should guide its study, and
the practice of lingual exercises, he passes,
in Chapter X., to the formal consideration
of the value of the classics. With this gi-
gantic superstition he makes no terms. The
pretexts for its continued ascendancy are
successively and efifcctually exploded. With-
out denying that some small benefit may of
course arise from the study of dead lan-
guages, as hitherto and commonly pursued,
he demonstrates the utter futility of the
several claims put forward in their behalf,
and shows how, by standing in the way of
modern studies, the classics are a fatal hin-
drance to that broad and thorough mental
discipline which can only be acquired by a
larger exercise of the mind in scientific
methods, and upon the knowledge of actual
things.

An important phase of the work is the
treatment of what Professor Bain calls the
logical or analytical problem of education.
It involves the question of the sequence of

824

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

subjects in the various schemes of study,
both in relation to the order of the unfold-
ing faculties and with reference to the logi-
cal dependence of the subjects theuiselves.
The art of teaching, its various methods,
and the principles that should guide them,
involving a discussion of the philosophy of
object-lessons, are prominently dealt with.
Moral education receives passing attention,
and Professor Bain suggests various changes
which the present system must sooner or
later undergo, in a chapter on the higher
studies in the curriculum of the future.
The author says : " The general strain of
the work is a war not so much against er-
ror as against confusion. The methods of
education have already made much prog-
ress, and it were vain to look forward to
some single discovery that could change
our whole system. Yet I believe that im-
provements remain to be effected. I take
every opportunity of urging that the divi-
sion of labor in the shape of disjoining in-
congruous exercises is a chief requisite in
any attempt to remodel the teaching art."

We recommend this book emphatically
to all teachers, parents, superintendents,
and school trustees, who have any serious
interest in the improvement of education,
and can prize efficient and intelligent help
in carrying on their work.

Demonologt and Devil-Lore. By Daniel
MoNCURE Conway, M. A. With numer-
ous Illustrations. New York : Henry
Holt k Co. 1879. 2 vols. Pp. 444
and 484. Price, $7.

Mr. Conway's studies in demonology
were begun many years ago, and in 1859
he published in the series known as " Tracts
for To-day" (Cincinnati) an essay entitled
" Natural History of the Devil." The very
title of that tract was evidence that its au-
thor had in his hand the one clew which
could conduct him surely through the mazes
of the weird and fantastic demon-world.
Monstrous and unearthly as the forms of
that strange world may appear, they were
every one the product of the normal opera-
tions of man's mind, as modified by its
internal and external conditions, and they
can be explained and understood only by
tracing them to that source — in other words,
by developing their natural history. But

twenty years ago the idea that demons and
devils have a natural history was not so
obvious a one as it is to-day ; and our au-
thor, in giving that title to his essay, ap-
proved himself to be a bold and original
thinker. Nevertheless, as he confesses in
the preface to the work before us, he had
then no adequate conception of the vast-
ness of the domain which he attempted to
survey. But reading and observation in
foreign countries have since given him at
once larger and clearer views of that phan-
tasmal world of which, as a denizen of the
North American Continent, he had only
heard a rumor, so to speak. True, being a
native of Virginia, and bred on a planta-
tion, Mr. Conway enjoyed the advantage of
observing the phases of demonism in the
negro mind ; but, for all that, it was only
after he had visited in Europe the haunts of
the ancient chimeras, goblins, and demons,
and made himself familiar with the tradi-
tions current among the lower orders of
the population, that he could realize the all-
pervading force of this superstition.

In the present work Mr. Conway sets
forth the results of his protracted research-
es. The amount of material he has accu-
mulated is enormous, and yet he has by no
means exhausted the subject. He aptly
likens his effort to " Thor's attempt to drink
up a small spring, and his failure because it
was fed by the ocean." It would be labor
in vain for any one man to attempt a full
account of the world of demons and devils
— a world as diversified and as vast as the
physical world around us — and our author
has wisely restricted himself to giving illus-
trations of its leading typical forms. Like
another Linne he groups in genera and spe-
cies, so to speak, these creatures of phanta-
sy, and thus out of direst confusion evolves
order and system. Hence his work is valu-
able, both as a repertory of out-of the-way
information and as an essay in psychologi-
cal analysis.

It is impossible to give within the limits
of a notice like this even an outline of the
author's argument, and therefore we will
simply call attention to a few of the note-
worthy points developed in the work. And
first we find a distinction drawn between
"demon" and "devil." Demons are be-
ings whose harmfulness is not gratuitous,

LITERARY NOTICES.

825

but incidental to their own gratifications ; a
devil loves evil for its own sake. Some-
times a god belonging to a conquered tribe
is degraded to the rank of a demon in the
mythology of the conquerors. Again, there
are demons (or, as the case may be, devils)
created by pure accident ! " Belial " is an
instance of this, being an erroneous personi-
flcation of "godlessness." The author's
remarks on demonism in India are dpropos :
" The Hindoos have covered their land with
temples to propitiate and deprecate the de-
mons, and to invoke the deities against . . .
drought and famine. Had they concluded
that famine was the result of inexactly
quartered sun-dials, the land would have
been covered with perfect sun-dials ; but
the famine would have been more destruc-
tive, because of the increasing withdrawal
of mind and energy from the true cause,
and its implied answer. But how much
wiser are we of Christendom than the Hin-
doos ? They have adapted their country
perfectly for propitiation of famine-demons
that do not exist, at a cost which would long
ago have rendered them secure from the fam-
ine forces that do exist. We have similarly
covered Christendom, . . . while around our
churches, chapels, cathedrals, are the actu-
ally existent seething hells of pauperism,
shame, and crime." Demonism still sub-
sists among the most enlightened nations,
backed by the sternest sanctions it is possi-
ble to conceive. "A story is told of a man
wandering on a dark night over Dartmoor,
whose feet slipped over the edge of a pit.
He caught the branch of a tree suspended
over the terrible chasm, but, unable to re-
gain the ground, shrieked for help. None
came, though he cried out till his voice was
gone ; and there he remained dangling in
agony until the gray light revealed that his
feet were only a few inches from the solid
ground ! Such are the chief demons that
bind men till cock-crow. Such are the ap-
prehensions that waste also the moral and
intellectual strength of man, and murder his
peace as he regards the necessary science of
his time to be cutting some frail tenure sus-
taining him over a bottomless pit, instead
of a release from real terror to the solid
ground.^''

The passages we have quoted will give
an idea of our author's style and point of

view. There is hardly a page of the work
which does not contain sentences full of
epigrammatic force. Speaking, for instance,
of the divers forms ascribed to the devil,
Mr. Conway says that " the whites painted
him black, and tlie blacks, with much more
reason, painted him white."

Paradoxical Philosophy : A Sequel to
" The Unseen Universe." London and
New York : Macmillan & Co. 1878. Pp.
•235. Price, $1.75.

The readers of " The Unseen Universe "
will find in the present volume, which is by
the same authors, a further discussion of the
question of a future state. The work pur-
ports to report the proceedings of an Imag-
inary " paradoxical society " at one of its
anniversary meetings, and the conflicting
views of many different schools of thought
upon this subject are set forth with con-
siderable force, and in a way that will in-
terest the most listless reader. The whole
subject is treated in the light of modem
science ; and, though the problem is not
brought one hair's breadth nearer to a solu-
tion by the clash of arguments, new points
of view are at least indicated, new proofs
suggested, new difficulties shown to lie in
the way of accepting whether the material-
istic or the idealistic philosophy. But no
less hopeless appears to be the attempt to
effect a reconciliation between these two ;
and the ancient enigma, "Whither are we
going ? " still remains.

nO".V TO BE PLUMP, OR TaLKS ON PHYSIOLOGI-
CAL FEEDING. By T. C. Duncan, M. D.
Chicago : Duncan Brothers. 1 878. Pp.
60. Price, 50 cents.

The doctor who writes this book had
the good fortune, several years ago, to be
employed in the family of an oyster-dealer,
and, though it is not stated that oysters
were at the time a " legal tender " in Chica-
go, they appear to have suddenly become a
rather large element in our author's bill of
fare, since he often ate them when he diid
not want them, " rather than let them spoil."
" Other food " was taken " after or with the
oysters " ; and whether absence of the har-
assing cares of a large practice can be
counted in or not, certain it is that the doc-
tor, oddly enough, soon found himself grow-

VOL. XIT.— 53

826

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing stout. " The quieting effects of a few
pounds of fat " gave him a " clew to much
of the restless activity of Americans " ; this
led to " much thought " during the next ten
years on the subject of " physiological feed-
ing," and, as one of the results, we have the
present book. All there is of value in its
sixty pages could be better said in as many
lines, and they would then contain nothing
beyond the merest commonplaces of physi-
ology.

What is the Bible ? By J. T. Sundekland.
New York : Putnam's Sons. 1878. Pp.
189. $1.

The object of the author in composing
this book was to help readers of the Bible to
be intelligent readers, not only in the small
and meager sense of knowing by heart a mul-
titude of texts, but also in the larger and
more worthy way of understanding that
book as a whole — whence it came, how it
came, what it is, and what relation it bears
to other sacred books of the race. The
Bible is treated with a reverent spirit by
Mr. Sunderland, but that reverence does
not prevent him from discerning and point-
ing out its blemishes. He compares the
book to a gold mine, rich indeed in the
precious metal, but still a mine. There are
fools who insist that the whole " output "
of this mine is pure gold ; no less is the
folly of others who, because they see earth
and quartz mixed with the gold, declare
that the mine contains no gold. " The part
of rational men and women," says the author,
"surely is to delve earnestly in the mine,
casting out, without hesitation, what plainly
is not gold, but saving and treasuring up
what clearly is gold."

How TO parse. By Rev. E. A. Abbott, D. D.
Boston; Roberts Brothers. 1878. Pp.
34-3. $1.

The title of this book is not a very
attractive one, and will repel, we fancy,
rather than win readers. "Parsing" has
fallen into disrepute, and few persons will
care to know how it should be performed.
But if, overlooking the title, we examine
the book, it will be found to contain a
great deal of valuable information. What
is more, it will serve to give the student an
insight into the scientific principles of Eng-
lish grammar.

The Natural History of the Agricul-
tural Ant of Texas. By Henry Chris-
topher McCooK. Philadelphia : The au-
thor (Academy of Natural Sciences).
1879. Pp. 310, with 24 Lithographic
Plates. $4.

A MORE instructive and entertaining
matter of study than the ant tribe it would
not be easy to find in the whole animal
kingdom outside of man ; and, of all the
ants, certainly none are more worthy of our
attention than the species described in Mr.
McCook's present work. A naturalist resi-
dent in Texas, the late Dr. Gideon Lince-
cum, had at sundry times between 1861 and
the period of his death, some five or six
years ago, contributed to the proceedings of
various learned societies notes on the habits
of the agricultural ant, but his observations,
as we learn from Mr. McCook, were dis-
credited by not a few entomological writers.
It was the author's good fortune to confirm
in almost every particular the results of the
Texas naturahst, and to add to them a mul-
titude of fresh observatious of his own.
We therefore heartily welcome the volume,
not only on account of the information it
contains touching the agricultural ant, but
also because it is a triumphant vindication
of one of the most ingenious of American
naturalists. Mr. McCook, in successive chap-
ters, treats of the surface architecture and
work of the agricultural ants, their har-
vesting habits, their subterranean architec-
ture, their modes of mining, their food and
feeding, their " toilet, sleeping, and funeral
habits," their social and (if the term be
allowable) their political relations, their mi-
grations and movements, their wars ; and,
finally, he gives a detailed description of
their anatomy.

House Air the Cause and Promoter of

Disease. By Frank Donaldson, M. D.

Baltimore : Innes & Co. print. 1878.

Pp. 23.

The author insists on the necessity of
frequently renewing the air of inhabited
rooms. To the objection that fuel is too
costly, and people can not afford to let in the
cold air, he replies : " True, more fuel must
be consumed. But is not the additional ex-
pense a small matter compared with the
healthfulness resulting from it ? Fresh air
is better worth paying for than even Jood; it
is more essential to health.^''

LITERARY NOTICES.

827

Wanderings in South America, the North-
west OF THE United States, and the An-
tilles, IN the Years 1812, 1816, 1820,
AND 1824, WITH Original Instructions
FOR the Perfect Preservation of Birds,
ETC., for Cabinets of Natural History.
By Charles Waterton, Esq. New edi-
tion. Edited, with Biographical Intro-
duction and Explanatory Index, by the
Rev. J. G. Wood, with One Hundred
lihistrations. London and New York:
Macmillan&Co. 1879. Pp.520. Price,
$6.60.

This elegant volume opens with an in-
teresting biographical sketch of the distin-
guished traveler, whose " Wanderings " has
long been the delight of all lovers of natu-
ral history. From this sketch we learn
that Charles Waterton was born in 1782,
in Yorkshire, England. He was descended
from a long line of distinguished ancestors,
and in early boyhood began to develop
that love of nature, power of observation,
and originality of character for which he
was afterward so celebrated. When ten
years old he was sent away to school, and,
although the first journey described in his
book did not commence till twenty years
later, his " wanderings " may be said to
have begun at this time. In spite of the
stern discipline to which he was subjected,
his activity, enterprise, and love of adven-
ture, led him into all sorts of scrapes, from
which, however, he generally contrived to
escape without serious harm. Such was
his attempt to ride a cow, over whose horns
he was quickly pitched ; at another time
he undertook a sail on the horse-pond in a
wash-tub, with the usual fate of such daring
navigators. Running away from school to
go birds'-nesting, and throwing his pursu-
ers off the track by hiding under the litter
in a pig-sty, was another characteristic per-
formance.

At fourteen he was transferred to a high-
er school, where, ranking among the foremost
as a scholar, he also found peculiar opportu-
nities for indulging his love of fun and free-
dom. His teachers early perceiving the bent
of his disposition, were sagacious enough to
give it fair play, by permitting him to use
a portion of liis time in carrying on a war of
extermination against the rats that infested
the place in enormous numbers. His suc-
cess with these led to an extension of hos-
tilities to the foxes, polecats, and rooks, that

were also numerous in the neighborhood ; he
likewise held the post of organ-blower and
foot-ball maker to the " entire satisfaction
of the public." At eighteen he left school,
remained a year at home, and then took a
trip to Spain, where he learned the Spanisli
language. While visiting relatives in the
city of Malaga, he suddenly found himself
a prisoner, owing to an outbreak of the
plague, which led to measures of rigid
quarantine. He took the disease, but for-
tunately, owing to his simple mode of life
and strong constitution, recovered from the
attack. Fourteen thousand people perished
in the city during that epidemic. Though
the port was closed, and all avenues of
egress carefully guarded, he succeeded in
escaping from the city in time to avoid a
second epidemic in the following year, which
carried off thirty thousand more of the city's
population. Returning to England, he spent
some time there in recovering his shattered
health, and then started for Deraerara, in
South America, to take charge of an estate
belonging to his family. There he remained
for eight years, when, owing to the death
of relatives, the property passed into other
hands. He now began bis famous travels,
setting out on his first journey from the
town of Stabroek " to travel through the
wilds of Demerara and Essequibo, a part of
ci-devant Dutch Guiana, in South America."
" The chief objects in view," he says, " were
to collect a quantity of the strongest wou-
rali poison ; and to reach the inland frontier
fort of Portuguese Guiana." With this start,
which was made in April, 1812, the record
of Waterton's observations and experiences
known as the " Wanderings" begins.

The special objects of this journey were
both attained, and a large amount of inter-
esting information on other matters also
gathered, but fatigue and exposure had told
on the health of the " wanderer," and he
found it necessary to return to England,
where he remained for the next three years.
In the spring of 1816, his health now being
fully restored, he again started for South
America, landing first at Pernambuco, and
sailing thence after a brief stay for Cayenne
in French Guiana. The forests of Demera-
ra were, however, his objective point, and
without delay he plunged into their wilds a
second time, staying several months, and

828

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

giving particular attention to the fauna of
the country, taking back with him to Eng-
land a fine collection of birds. In February,
1820, he sailed a third time for Demerara,
and, continuing his explorations for a season,
returned to England at the end of a year
with a larger number of specimens than he
had before been able to obtain. But this
time a stinging disappointment awaited his
arrival. Although his specimens were in-
tended solely for his own museum, and were
none of them for sale, impudent and over-
zealous custom-house officials gave no end
of trouble when he landed by detaining his
cases of material, and subsequently exact-
ing heavy duties as a condition of their re-
lease. Appeal to the Government did no
good, and, smarting under a sense of the
outrage, he retired to his home in Yorkshire,
resolved not to expose himself to similar
annoyance and insult again. Three years
later, however, he started on his fourth and
last journey, described in the " Wander-
ings," this time going first to New York,
and, after a short trip in the United States,
returning by the way of the British West
Indies to Demerara. After a stay of a few
months, mostly spent in further explora-
tions, he resumed his homeward voyage,
reaching England early in 1 825.

Mr. Waterton was a keen observer, and
in the regions which he visited permitted
little in the line of natural history to escape
him. The topography of the country, its
plants and animals, and the character and
habits of its human inhabitants, all received
attention ; and though at first many of his
descriptions were met with incredulity and
some of them even with derision, fifty years
have served to confirm their accuracy in
nearly every particular, and to show that, as
an enthusiastic and painstaking investiga-
tor, Mr. Waterton had few equals and no
superiors. Added to this, the story is sim-
ply and most charmingly told, an abundant
sprinWhig of quiet humor and occasional
vivid descriptions of exciting adventures
serving to enliven and give variety to the
narrative. The "Wanderings" close with
a chapter •on taxidermy, in which the author
attained remarkable proficiency, especially
in the mounting of birds. He introduced
many improvements in the art, and offers
numerous valuable hints for those interested

in the preservation of natural history speci-
mens.

Besides the biography, which occupies
the first five chapters of the book, Mr.
Wood has supplied a full "Explanatory
Index," which contains a large amount of
valuable information regarding the animals
and plants mentioned in the " Wanderings."
Many of these were described by Mr. AVa-
terton under their local names, which, for
scientific purposes, were of little use. In
type, paper, illustrations, and binding, the
publisher has left nothing to be desired.

The American Journal of Otologt. Ed-
ited by Clarence J. Blake, M. D. Quar-
terly. Vol. I., No. 1. New York : Wil-
liam Wood & Co. Pp. 80. Price, $3 per
year.

As the editor of this new journal re-
marks in his introductory note, " the past
ten years have seen a remarkable increase
of interest in the study of the laws which
govern the production and propagation of
sonorous vibrations, and correspondingly in
the structure, functions, and diseases" of
the ear. Hence the " Journal of Otology "
is a welcome addition to the list of Ameri-
can medical and scientific periodicals. The
editor is assisted by a very strong staff,
viz., Professor A. M. Mayer, Dr. Albert H.
Buck, Dr. C. H. Burnett, Dr. J. Orne Green,
and Dr. H. N. Spencer. The articles in the
present number are : " Graphic and Photo-
graphic Illustrations of Sound-Waves," by
the editor ; " Growth of Aspergillus in the
Living Human Ear," by Dr. C. H. Burnett ;
"Syphilitic Affections of the Ear," by Dr. A.
H. Buck ; •' Use of Calcium Sulphide in the
Treatment of Inflammations of the External
Auditory Meatus," by Dr. S. Sexton ; Book
Notices ; and Keviews.

Industrial Education. By Professor Al-
exander Hogg. Galveston, Texas :
"News "Print. ISYg. Pp.52.

The author, who is a Professor of Mathe-
matics in the Agricultural and Mechanical
College of Texas, in his first chapter sketch-
es a course of studies suitable for an insti-
tution of that kind ; in his second and third
chapters he describes the present state of
the Texas Agricultural College, and points
(Xit some of its more pressing needs.

LITERARY NOTICES.

829

Air and Moisture on Shipboard : A Frag-
ME\'T OF Applied Physiology. By Th.
J. Turner, A. M., M. D., Ph. D. Pp. 15.

The notion is prevalent that life on ship-
board is especially healthy, and the doctors
are constantly sending patients to sea for
the benefits they are there expected to ob-
tain. That the belief is an error, and the
practice a mistaken one, this pamphlet
abundantly proves. Indeed, according to
the statistics which the author gives, few
unhealthier places can be found than one
of our modern naval vessels when in active
service. This appears to be due mainly to
foul air and a superabundance of moisture,
both of which, as the writer points out, can
be easily avoided by the substitution of a
few simple sanitary measures for the stupid
routine that now commonly controls in the
management of ships.

On the Genealogy of Plants (20 pp.),
and On the Natural Succession of the
Dicotyledons (11 pp.). By Lester F.
Ward, A. M. Reprinted from the "Amer-
ican Naturalist."

The first of these pamphlets begins with
an indictment of the present system of bo-
tanical classification, which the author re-
gards as altogether out of harmony with the
facts of organic evolution as developed dur-
ing the last twenty years ; and as requir-
ing the introduction of certain important
modifications, some of which he outlines.
The second pamphlet is a discussion of the
classification of the dicotyledons, from the
same point of view, namely, that of the evo-
lutionist.

Notes on Cladocera. By Edward A. Birge,
Ph. D., Instructor in the University of
Wisconsin. Pp. 33, with Two Plates.

This is a technical description of several
new species and one new genus of minute
fresh-water crustaceans found by the author
at different localities in this country. The
water-flea {Daphnia) is a familiar example of
the group.

The Air we breathe. New York: S.

Hamilton's Sons Print. Pp. 17.

We have here a report of a Citizens'
Committee on the nuisances of New York
City, or rather on its " stench-factories " —
slaughter-houses, fat - rendering establish-
ments, etc.

The Soul and the Resurrection. By J.
H. Kellogg, M. D. Battle Creek, Michi-
gan : "Review and Herald" Publishing
Association. 1879. Pp. 224. Price,
75 cents.

Here is another attempt at establishing
harmony between science and the Bible.
The author looks on science and the Bible
as " complementary revelations," though the
latter he regards as of by far the greater
importance. Still, he does not by any means
require that science should surrender at dis-
cretion to its " superior." On the contrary,
indeed, not a few of our author's proposi-
tions seem to us to imply that the whole
body of " revealed truth " is subject to re-
vision and correction by science. The or-
thodox reader will be shocked when he
finds the harmonizer plainly declaring that
" the study of mind is now a subject for the
physiologist," and ihat " the soul is neither
conscious nor immortal."

Principal Characters of the American

Jurassic Dinosaurs. With Plates. Pp.

6. A New Order of Extinct Reptiles.

By Professor 0. C. Marsh. With Plates.

Pp. 8.

These papers are reprinted from the
" American Journal of Science." We gave
an abstract of each of them on their appear-
ance in our contemporary.

The Principles of Breeding. By Profes-
sor W. H. Brewer. Pp. 20.
Professor Brewer is an authority on
the subject which he has treated in this too
brief paper. It is reprinted from the re-
print of the Secretary of the New Hamp-
shire Board of Agriculture.

Notes on the Aphidid^ of the United

States. By C. V. Riley and J. Monell.

With Plates from Hayden's Survey.

Pp. 32.

In this paper are set forth many interest-
ing biological facts relating to the gall-mak-
ing Pemphigina. Such facts possess a pecu-
liar importance just at present, on account
of the close relationship between these in-
sects and the Phjlloxera of the grapevine.

Art Anatomy. By Dr. A. J. Howe. Pp.

23.

The painter and sculptor will find many
a valuable hint in this unpretending little
essay.

830

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

The Speaking Telephone, Electric Light, and
other Recent Electrical Inventious. By George
B. Prescott. With Illustrations. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. 1879. Pp. 616. $4.

Report of the British Association for the
Advancement of Science (1877). London : John
Murray. Pp. 679.

Die Entwickelnng dea Menschengeschlech-
tes. Von Dr. Adelrich Steinach. Basel : Benno
Schwabe ; New York : Schlaepfer, 109 Allen St.
1878. Pp.687. $-2.50.

The Currency Question from a Southern
Point of View. By R. W. Hughes. New York:
Putnam's Sons. 1879. Pp.222. $1.25.

Testing of Water-Wheels and Machinery. By
James Emerson. Springfield, Massachusetts :
Weaver, Shipman & Co. print. 1878. Pp. 216.
$1.50.

Naval Hygiene ; Human Health. By Joseph
Wilson, M. D. Witli Colored Lithographs.
Philadelphia: Lindsay & Blakiston. 1879. Pp.
274. $3.

Report of the United States Entomological
Commission (1877). With Plates. Washington :
Government Printing-Office. 1878. Pp. 771.

The Young Scientist. Vol. I. New York :
Industrial Publication Co. 1878. Pp. 164.

Reading as a Fine Art. By Ernest Legouve.
Boston : Roberts Bros. 1879. Pp. 97. 50 cents.
Report of the Observations of the Total Solar
Eclipse U878) made at Fort Worth. Leonard
Waldo, Editor. Cambridge : Press of John Wil-
son & Son. 1879. Pp. 60.

Habit and Intelligence. By John Joseph Mur-
phy. Revised edition. London and New York:
Macmillan. Pp. 621. $5.

After Death what ? By Rev. W. H. Piatt.
Revised and enlarged. San Francisco : Roman
& Co. Pp. 209. $1.25.

Health, and how to promote it. By Richard
McSherry, M. D. New York: D. Appleton &
Co. Pp. 196. $1 25.

Archivos do Museu nacional do Rio de Ja-
neiro. With Plates. Rio de Janeiro : Typo-
graphia do imperial inctituto artistico. 1878.
Vol. U., pp. 175 ; Vol. III., pp. 50.

Proceedings of the New England Cotton
Manufacturers' Association. Boston : A. Wil-
liams & Co. print. Pp. 79.

Voussoir Arches. By William Cain, C. E.
New York : Van Nostrand. 1879. Pp. 196. 50
cents.

Journal of Physiology. Michael Foster, M.
D., Editor. With Plates. London and New
York: Macmillan. Vol. I, No. 6. Pp.70. $5.25
per year.

American Statistical Review. Quarterly.
New York : D. Appleton & Co. Vol. I., Part 1.
Pp. 120. $5 per year.

A Rational View of the Bible. By Newton
M.Mann. Rochester, New York : Charles Mann
print. 1879. Pp. 136.

The Horse and his Diseases. By B. J. Ken-
dall, M. D. Enosburg Falls, Vermont : Pub-
lished by the Author. Pp. 89. 25 cents.

Proceedings of the American Chemical So-
ciety. New York : Baker & Godwin print. 1879.
Vol. II., No. 4. Pp.24.

Chemical Examinations of Sewer Air. By
Professor William Ripley Nichols. Boston :
Rockwell & Churchill print. 1879. Pp. 16.

The Wisconsin Tornadoes of May 23, 1878.
By W. W. Daniels. With Plates. Pp. 41.

Pliilosophy of Christianity. By Pliny E.
Chase. Pp. 31.

The Hydatiform Mole. By J. W. rnderhill,
M. D. Cincinnati : " Lancet " print. 1879. Pp.
20.

The Female Generative Organs in their Medi-
co-Legal Relations. By the same Author. New
York : W. Wood & Co. Pp. 20.

Flora of Richmond County, New York. By
Arthur Hollick and N. L. Britton. Staten Island :
Published by the Authors. 1879. Pp. 36. 50
cents.

Annual Report of the Schools of the Province
of Ontario (1877). Toronto : Hunter, Rose & Co.
print. I'p. 260.

The Devonian Brachiopoda of Par&, Brazil.
By Richard Eathbuu. From " Proceedings ot the
Boston Society of Natural History." Pp. 39.

Sketch of New Zealand. By I. C. Russell.
From "American Naturalist." Pp. 13.

Beneficial Influence of Plants. By J. M. An-
ders, M. D. From " American Naturalist." Pp.
15.

Relation of the National Government to Sci-
ence. Speech of Hon. J. A. Garfield. Washing-
ton. 1879. Pp. 7.

Industrial Arbitration and Conciliation. By
Joseph D. Weeks. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania :
Anderson & Sou print. Pp. 16.

The Triassic Formation of New Jersey and
the Connecticut Valley. By I. C. Russell. New
York : Gregory Bros, print. Pp. 35.

The Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral King-
doms. ByMrs.N. B.Walker. New York: Wil-
bur & Hastings print. 1879. Pp. 18.

Report of the Freedmeu's Aid Society of the
M.E. Church (1878). Cincinnati: Book Concern.
Pp. 64.

The Cobden Club. Letter byS. S. Boyce.
Pp.5.

Nature and Possibilitie? of Social Science.
By Pierce Burton. Aurora, Illinois: "Herald"
print. Pp. 8.

Common Sense on the Salt Question. By
Henry A. Mott, Jr. New York : Nesbitt & Co.
print. Pp. 11.

Natural Method in Language. By John E.
Earp. Indianapolis : Douglass & Carlon print.
1879. Pp.8.

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

The History of Map-making.— The Presi-
dent of the American Geographical Society,
Judge Daly, in an address on the history of
map-making previous to the time of Mer-
cator, expi^essed his belief that the carto-
graphic art is as old as, or even older than,
the invention of the alphabet. The earliest
map or topographical design extant, so far
as we know, is the ground-plan of the town
of Susa (in the Bible Shushan). This is
assumed to date from the seventh century
before our era. According to Strabo, Anax-
imander (born 612 b. c.) first represented
the world in a map. The earth at that time
was held to be a flat, circular plain entirely
surrounded by the ocean-river. Greece was
in the center of the plain. The great cen-
tral sea of the inhabited region was the
Mediterranean. The farthest point known
on the west was the Pillars of Hercules

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

831

(strait of Gibraltar). Parmenides (bom 513
B. c.) is said by Diogenes Laertius to have
been the first to assert the sphericity of the
earth, and that it is situate in the center
of the universe. Strabo credits Parmenides
also with having been the first to divide the
globe into five zones, or climates as they were
called. Passing lightly over the twelve cen-
turies between Ptolemy and the awakening
of maritime enterprise which led to the dis-
covery of America, Judge Daly spoke of the
large map of the world constructed in Ven-
ice in HSY by Fra Mauro. This map was
painted on the wall of a convent in Venice,
and it is remarkable not only for the extent
of the geographical information it embodies,
but for the artistic skill with which it is ex-
ecuted. But even the maps constructed af-
ter the time of Columbus and Magelhaens in
their delineation of the outline of countries
were very defective, and especially in respect
to the American Continent. The accessories
to geographical knowledge had become so
vast, that the work of giving the whole sur-
face of the earth as far as known, in all its
details, with any approximation to correct-
ness, was not accomplished till Mercator
produced his great map of the world in
1569. In this map he introduced what has
ever since been known as Mercator's pro-
jection, which not only gives the world in
one view, but by a very curious and simple
contrivance showed the most effectual way
for a vessel to sail on a straight line over a
curved surface, and thereby solved what was
before one of the most difficult problems in
navigation.

Fiords of Glacial Origin on Long Island.

— In a paper by Mr. E. Lewis, Jr., read be-
fore the Natural History Section of the
Long Island Historical Society, some ac-
count is given of the fiords which occur on
the north side of Long Island, bordering
Long Island Sound. In a distance of fifty
miles eight of large size occur, penetrating
the island to near its center. There are
several small ones, remains evidently of
large valleys that have been shortened by
wearing away of the banks at the sound-
shore. The waters of the sound extend
into the large valleys from two to six miles,
forming safe and beautiful harbors. Fiords,
common on rocky coasts, like those of

Maine or Greenland, are not frequent in the
drift, but those described are singularly
perfect in form. They are simply long,
deep valleys, from half a mile to a mile
broad, their source being in the hill region
of the central part of the island. The
depth of water in the deep portions of the
fiords is from ten to thirty feet, but in a few
places where the tidal currents are rapid
depths of forty and even fifty feet are
found. It is quite certain that sediment is
slowly accumulating in the harbors, and is
already of considerable thickness. Piles
have been driven in one instance through
forty feet of soft ooze, and meadows now
occupy the upper portions of the valleys.
The banks vary in elevation. The general
elevation of the country throughout the re-
gion may be 150 feet above tide, but it is
very undulating, being traversed by a great
number of small lateral valleys, which open
into the great fiords, chiefly on their east-
erly side. On the west side of Hempstead
Harbor (Roslyn) the bank is 250 feet high,
and at one point known as " Beacon Hill "
attains an elevation of 307 feet. If to this
height we add the depth of water and of
sediment in the harbor, it will show that the
extreme depth of the valley was not less
than 350 feet when its bottom was swept
by a glacial stream. There is reason to be-
lieve that in several instances these fiord
valleys were once continuous southward to
the ocean, and the site of glacial rivers flow-
ing in that direction. They probably became
filled with debris from the melting glacier,
as it finally yielded to a change of climate.
From that time the discharge of glacial wa-
ter was northward through what is now
Long Island Sound. The conclusion is, that
nearly all the fiords in question are not eroded
valleys, but are what remains of river val-
leys, maintained as such, while the deposit
of drift went on. The lateral, or small val-
leys, referred to were mainly produced by
erosion, but why they occur so largely on
the easterly side of the great fiords is not
explained.

Rainfall and Snn-spots. — The relation
between rainfall and sun-spots is a subject
which has been discussed with no little heat
for a few years past. Of speculation and
theory there is more than enough, and it is

832

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

time to collect and note the facts. Here is
a table showing the readings of the Nilome-
ter for thirteen years, from which it is clear
that the river Nile, during that time at least,
does not confirm the rule, " Maximum spots,
maximum rainfall " :

YearB, Depth of the Nile.

1866 2Si feet minimum spots.

1867 24i " miuimum spots.

1868 19 "

1669 29i "

18TO 2£i "

1871 -23* "

1872 25i " maximum spots.

1873 20 "

1874 29 "

1875 24 "

1876 ...25 "

1877 18 " minimum spots.

1878 30 "

The Vertebral Artienlations ia Birds. —

Professor Marsh, in the " American Journal
of Science and Arts " for April, essays an
explanation of the peculiar saddle-shaped
articulation seen in the vertebra of birds.
Between Ichihyornis and Hesperornis, two
birds with teeth from the Cretaceous, there
is the widest conceivable difference as re-
gards this part of the skeleton, in Hesper-
ornis the ends of the centrum being saddle-
shaped, as in ordinary birds, while in Ich-
thyornis the articulation of the centrum is
cup-shaped. But in the third cervical verte-
bra of Ichthyornis, Professor Marsh catches
nature in the act, as it were, of forming a
new type, by modifying one form of verte-
bra into another. Following this hint, the
connection between these widely divergent
types of structure soon becomes apparent,
and the development of the modern form of
avian vertebra from the fish-like biconcave
form finds a solution. In the anterior ar-
ticulation of this vertebra of Ichthyornh
the surface looks downward and forward,
being inclined at an angle of nearly 60°
■with the axis of the centrum. In vertical
section it is moderately convex, while trans-
versely it is strongly concave, thus present-
ing a near approach to the saddle-like ar-
ticulation. None of the other vertebrae of
Ichthyornis possesses this character. " This
highly specialized feature," remarks Pro-
fessor Marsh, " occurs at the first bend of
the neck, and greatly facilitates motion in a
vertical plane. If, now, we consider for a
moment that the dominant motion in the
neck of a modern bird is in a vertical plane,
we see at once that anything that tends to

facihtate this motion would be an advan-
tage, and that the motion itself would tend
directly to produce this modification. With
biconcave vertebrae, the flexure in any di-
rection is dependent on the elasticity of the
fibrous tissue that connects them, as the
edges of the cup do not slide over each
other. An increasing movement in the
neck of Ichthyornis in a vertical plane
would tend to deflect the upper and lower
margins of the circular cup, and to produce
a vertical constriction, and at the same
time to leave the lateral margins project-
ing ; and this is precisely what we have in
the third vertebra. This modification of
the vertebrae would natuially appear first
where the neck had most motion, viz., in
the anterior cervicals, and gradually would
be extended down the neck ; and, on to
the sacrum, if the same flexure were con-
tinued. Behind the axis, or where the ver-
tical motion prevails, we find in modern
birds no exception to the saddle articula-
tion in the whole cervical series. In the
dorsal vertebrae, this cause would be less
efiicient, since the ribs and neural spines
tend to restrict vertical motion, and hence
to arrest this modification. This region,
then, as might be expected, offers strong
confirmatory evidence of the correctness of
the above explanation ; for here occur,
among modern birds, the only true excep-
tions known in the presacral series to the
characteristic saddle-shaped articulation."

Professor Tyndall on Sound.— Professor

Tyndall is this season giving a course of
lectures on sound at the London Royal In-
stitution. In the first lecture he illustrated
by many experiments the action of .sound-
waves, and explained the mechanism of the
ear. In treating of the velocity of sound,
he said that at the temperature of 32" Fahr.
air conveys sound-waves 1,090 feet per sec-
ond, but that this rate varies with every
variation of the temperature. It is well
known that, when a mechanically striking
bell is placed under a receiver exhausted
of air, no sound is heard. Professor Tyn-
dall showed by experiments that when a
little air, about one fourth, is admitted into
the receiver, the sound is feeble only ; but
on introducing a little hydrogen, the sound
was again stilled. This fact was known 10

POP ULAR MIS CELL ANY

833

Sir John Herschel, and he gave the explana-
tion that hydrogen breaks the continuity of
the medium. But this is not the true expla-
nation. Professor Stokes, paying attention
to the fact that when a tuning-fork is struck
and held in air it gives out but little sound,
investigated the subject, and arrived at the
conclusion that air is so mobile that it runs
around the tuning-fork without being thrown
into waves. Check this " running round"
by holding a card at one side of the fork,
and the sound is augmented. Xow, hydro-
gen is more mobile still than air, and hence
the probable explanation of the bell not
sounding in it is, that the hydrogen " runs
round " so readily that it is not thrown into
waves. Alluding to Newton's attempt to rec-
oncile his theoretical calculation of 916 feet
per second with the experimental results of
1,090 feet per second as the velocity of
sound. Professor Tyndall said that the phi-
losopher had forgotten to take into account
the heat developed by the sound-wave in its
own path. By the aid of the thermopile
and galvanometer arrangement, the lecturer
showed that a very gentle and small com-
pression of air does produce heat. Several
experiments to show the passage of sound
through wood, water, and other bodies were
made in the concluding part of the lecture.
In one of these experiments music played in
the cellars of the Institution was made audi-
ble by a connecting wooden rod rising into
the lecture-hall, a common wooden tray be-
ing alternately held on the top of the rod
and removed again. The rod itself had not
surface enough to give vibrations which
can be heard, but the larger surface of the
tray gave the " magic music."

An ingenious and very simple method of
measuring the velocity of sound in air and
other gases is described by M. Bichat, in
the " Journal de Physique." A tube about
ten metres long, made of tin plate, is bent
so that its extremities A and B are near to-
gether. The end A is closed by an India-
rubber membrane ; the end B carries a cork
with a glass tube through it, which com-
municates, by means of an India-rubber
tube, with a Marey's raanometric capsule.
These capsules are arranged in front of a
blackened cylinder, so that the extremities
of their levers rest upon the same generating
line. Close by these a tuning-fork, making

one hundred vibrations per second, is placed,
and inscribes its vibrations side by side
with those of the manoiuetric capsules.
The experiment being so arranged, a slight
shock is given by the hand to the mem-
brane A, the blackened cylinder meantime
being turned. The capsules register the
point of departure and the point of arrival,
while the tuning-fork gives the time. In
this way the velocity of sound in air was
found by M. Bichat to be 333.3 metres per
second. By means of two tin tubes, placed
one above the other, we may in a single ex-
periment demonstrate the difference of ve-
locities of sound in air and in hydrogen ;
but it is difficult, in consequence of diffusion
through the India-rubber, to keep the tube
full of pure hydrogen.

Recent Exploration of Wyandotte Cave.

— Wyandotte Cave, in Crawford County,
Indiana, has a total length of twenty-three
miles, including all the avenues ; it includes
many fine halls and domed chambers, the
largest of which has a circumference of one
thousand feet, and is said to be two hundred
and five feet high. The Rev. H. C. Hovey
mentions, in " The American Journal of
Science," an important discovery made in
this cave last April by a party of students
from Wabash College. Forcing their way
through a low, narrow passage from the
locality known as Rugged Pass, the party
entered a realm of chaos. " Pits, miry
banks, huge rocks, are overhung by galler-
ies of creamy stalaetite, vermicular tubes
intertwined, frozen cataracts, and all, in
short, that Nature could do in her wildest
and most fantastic mood." One of the cu-
riosities of this place is a row of stalactites
on which a musical chord can be struck or
a melody played. What is known as the
" Old Cave " was worked by saltpeter miners
in 1812, and sundry acts of vandalism have
been charged on them which more probably
were done by the aborigines. The finest
stalacto-stalagmitic column probably in the
world is the Pillar of the Constitution in
this " Old Cave." It is forty feet high,
twenty-five feet in diameter, and it rests on
a base three hundred feet in circumference.
The weight of this immense mass of ala-
baster caused the underlying rocks to set-
tle, and this in turn cracked the base, cans-

834

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing great crevices. At some former time
a large segment was cut from the base of
this column. Starting from one of these
crevices, an excavation was made, cutting a
mass from the base having an arc of thirty
feet, and making a cavity in the pillar itself
ten feet wide, seven feet high, and five feet
deep. This excavation has hitherto been
regarded as a deliberate attempt of the
miners to fell the column, but Mr. Hovey
thinks the work must have been done a
thousand years ago.

fommereial Prodnets of Kew Caledonia.

— M. Jules Gamier, who has spent three
years in New Caledonia investigating its
mineral resources, states that all the prin-
cipal vegetable productions of the tropics
grow well on that island, though, with the
exception of coifee and tobacco, they are
subject to periodical destruction by inva-
sions of grasshoppers. Cotton, moreover,
is liable to damage during the rainy season,
which, coinciding with the gathering of the
crop, destroys the produce. There are sev-
eral native oil-yielding plants, and the cul-
ture of the mulberry and silkworm have
been introduced with success. The forests
contain many useful timber-trees ; but the
most active industry is the raising of cattle,
in which an active export trade is carried
on with Australia. Of other animal prod-
ucts there is nothing of commercial value
except the fish, which are abundant and of
great variety. The chief source of wealth
in the island is, however, its metallic prod-
ucts. It is rich in gold, copper, and nickel,
the latter presenting itself in the form of a
magnesian hydro-silicate, called by Profes-
sor Dana Garnierite. The native inhabitants
number thirty-five thousand, and the whites
seventeen thousand. The recent insurrec-
tion will not interfere with the progress of
the colony.

Professor A. Agassiz's Zoological Labo-
ratory.— Professor Alexander Agassiz's zo-
ological laboratory at Newport is admirably
contrived to accommodate a small number
of workers. It is forty-five by twenty-five
feet. The whole of the northern side of
the floor, upon which the work-tables and
microscope-stands are placed, is supported
on brick piers and arches independent of

1 the brick walls of the building. The rest
of the floor is supported entirely on the out-
side walls and on columns on the north side.
This gives to the microscopic work the great
advantage of complete isolation from all
disturbance caused by persons walking over
the floor. The material for the laboratory
procurable at Newport is abundant. The
dredging is fair and not difficult, as the
depth in the immediate neighborhood does
not exceed twenty to thirty fathoms. The
pelagic fauna, however, is the most abun-
dant. During the course of each summer,
by the use of the dip-net, representatives
of all the more interesting marine forms can
be found. The laboratory stands on a point
at the entrance of Newport Harbor, past
which sweeps the body of water brought by
each tide into Narragansett Bay, and carry-
ing with it everything which the prevailing
southwesterly wind drives before it. New-
port Island and the neighboring shores form
the only rocky district in the long stretch
of sandy beaches extending southward from
Cape Cod — an oasis, as it were, for the
abundant development of marine fife along
its shores.

Making Sonnd-Vibrations visible. — A

very ingenious method of recording articu-
late vibrations by means of photography
has just been invented. The apparatus
(says "Galignani's Messenger") consists of
a steel mirror capable of oscillations on a
diametral axis, to the back of which is at-
tached a lever connecting it with the center
of a telephone-disk arranged with an ordi-
nary mouthpiece. Whenever the disk is
made to vibrate, the mirror oscillates with
it, and a beam of sunlight thrown on the
reflector from a heliostat describes lines of
light on a suitably prepared screen. If the
latter be movable at right angles to those
lines of light, and carries a collodion film,
the oscillation of the light is recorded on
the prepared surface as a more or less com-
plex curve having the peculiarity of the
sound-wave which caused each particular
motion. Another and simpler phoneidoscope
is suggested by a writer in " Nature " : it
may be made without the aid of any appa-
ratus whatever, by bending the forefinger
and thumb of one hand so as to form a
circle, and then with the other hand draw-

POPULAR MISCELLANY

835

ing over the aperture a film of soapsuds.
By turning the wrist, the angle made with
the direction of the light may be readily
adjusted ; a motion of the elbow alters the
distance from the mouth, and the tension of
the film can be exactly regulated by moving
the thumb and finger. On singing or speak-
ing to the film when in proper tension, beau-
tiful figures appear, which may be reflected
direct from the film on a screen. The ex-
periment is extremely curious and interest-
ing.

George Bidder, the " Calculating Boy."

— There died lately in England a man of
prodigious arithmetical power, whose men-
tal faculties would aiFord matter for pro-
found research to the psychologist. George
Bidder made his mark in early life as a
" calculating boy " ; but in him one over-
grown faculty did not eclipse all the other
mental powers, for throughout life (he died
aged seventy-two years) he evinced first-rate
business ability, and in fact accumulated a
large fortune by his own exertions. Nor did
his mathematical faculty decline as his other
powers matured ; to the last he was capable
of the same astonishing feats of calculation
which made him remarkable as a boy. In-
stances of his extraordinary powers are
given in a letter written by James Elliot,
Professor of Mathematics in Queen's Col-
lege, Liverpool, who was Bidder's fellow stu-
dent in Edinburgh. Of these we quote two :
A person might read to Bidder two series of
fifteen figures each, and, without seeing or
writing down a single figure, he could mul-
tiply the one by the other without error.
Once, while he was giving evidence before a
Parliamentary committee, counsel on the
opposite side interrupted him with, " You
might as well profess to tell us how many
gallons of water flow through Westminster
Bridge in an hour." " I can tell you that
too," was the reply, and he gave the num-
ber instantaneously.

Certain interesting facts are mentioned
with regard to the possession of the same
or similar powers by members of Bidder's
family. His eldest son, who is a successful
barrister, can play two games of chess si-
multaneously without seeing the board. Like
his father, he can multiply fifteen figures
by fifteen without seeing them, but by a

pecuhar process. One of the grandsons
showed a very marked degree of mechani-
cal ingenuity. Even the granddaughters
possess extraordinary powers of calculation.
George Bidder's elder brother, a Unitarian
minister, was not remarkable as an arith-
metician, but had an extraordinary memory
for Bible texts, and could quote almost any
text in the Bible, and give chapter and
verse. Another brother was an excellent
mathematician, and was actuary of a great
life-insurance company.

Pernvian Antiquities. — In an article on
Peruvian antiquities, published in the " Kan-
sas City Review of Science and Industry,"
Dr. E. R. Heath gives an interesting account
of the vast wealth of ruins with which the
land of the Incas is overstrewed. Go where
you will m Peru, and relics of the past meet
your eye either in ruined walls, watercourses,
terraces, or extensive areas covered with
broken pottery. Dr. Heath takes as an
illustrative instance the Jequetepeque Val-
ley. Here the bottom-lands of the river
are from two to three miles in width, with
a southern sloping bank, and the northern
a perpendicular one nearly eighty feet high.
Beside the southern bank, near the point
where the river empties into the sea, is an
elevated platform, one quarter of a mile
square and forty feet high, all of adobe. A
wall, fifty feet wide, connects it with another
distant a few hundred yards, which is 150
feet high, 200 feet across the top, and 500
feet at the base, and nearly square. This
latter structure was built in sections or
rooms ten feet square at the base, six feet
at the top, and about eight feet high. These
rooms were afterward filled with adobes,
then plastered on the outside with mud and
washed in colors. All the Peruvian mounds
of this class have on the north side an in-
cline as a means of access. On the north
side of the river, on the top of the bluff,
are the ruins of a walled city two miles wide
by six miles long. In following the river
to the mountains you pass ruin after ruin,
one artificial mound (huaca) after another.
At Tolon, a town at the base of the moun.
tains, the valley is crossed by walls of bowl-
ders and cobble-stones, ten, eight, and six
feet high, one foot to eighteen inches wide
at the top and two to three feet at the base,

8q6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

inclosing the ruins of a town one quarter of
a mile wide and more than a mile long. At
this point the railroad enters the Jequete-
peque Valley. For eight miles it crosses a
barren sand-plain of more than fifteen miles
ill length, covered with ruined walls, water-
courses, dead algaroba and espino trees,
with fragments of pottery and sea-shells,
even to nine feet in depth, mixed with the
sand. The bases of the mountains have, in
a good state of preservation, many thousand
feet of an old watercourse, whil^ their sides
to the perpendicular parts are hned with
terraces. This watercourse, now dry, can be
traced for the distance of forty-five miles.

Important Discovery in Entomology. — Mr.

Gray, of Albany, has been engaged in the
study of our diurnal Lepidoptera for many
years. He has made the discovery, as pub-
lished in the " Canadian Entomologist," that
our Eastern species of Liminitis, four in
number, are not distinct. They belong to
a single plastic genetic group, of which ar-
themis is the most northern, proserpina in-
termediate between arthemit and ursnla,
and the red dUippus the most southern. He
has colfected them in vertical altitudes on
hills in the Middle States and New England,
and has intermediary specimens half bluish
and red between the two most strikingly
contrasted species of the group ursula and
disippus. This discovery is the most re-
markable in the group announced since the
recognition of the female form of diaiia by
Mr. W. H. Edwards. In general interest it
far surpasses that discovery, and we expect
will be more generally noticed.

California Climates and Consumption. —

The conditions requisite in a health resort
for consumptive patients are relative drj'-
ness of atmosphere and an agreeable and
equable temperature throughout the year.
There are in the State of California a num-
b,er of localities in which these conditions
are happily combined, and which afford to
the consumptive opportunity for living out-
of-doors at all seasons. In the " Alta Cali-
fornia Almanac " is published a table set-
ting forth the mean relative humidity, and
mean temperature, summer and winter, of
the most noted sanitaria in the State, from
which we make a few selections. The

places which have the least humidity are
Atlas Peak and Blakes, the former 1,500
feet above sea-level, and the latter 2,100,
and both situated in a mountain-ridge east
of Napa Valley. This ridge is thirty miles
from the sea, is seldom covered by fog, is
beyond the reach of the cold sea-breezes,
and is warmer in winter and cooler in sum-
mer than the valleys on each side. At At-
las Peak the relative humidity is in summer
39°, in winter 51° — " summer" standing for
the " dry season " from May to October,
and " winter " for the "wet season" from
November to April, inclusive. The mean
temperature for January at Atlas Peak is
50° Fahr., and for July 74°. At Blakes
the relative humidity for summer is 39°,
and for winter 60° ; and the mean tempera-
ture for January is 45°, for July 73° Fahr.
These two localities are only a few miles
distant from one another, and are within
five or six hours' travel from San Francisco,
Other localities are represented in the table
as follows :

KELATIVE

MEAN

HUMIDITY.

TEMPERATUBB.

STATIONS.

Summer.

M'inter.

January.

July.

Camp Apache.

57°

56°

38°

84°

Visalia

42

72

45

60

Anaheim

64

60

50

68

Fort Yuma...

58

68

56

97

Lob Angeles..

66

64

52

75

Santa Barbara

71

67

53

68

San Diego

75

69

51

72

Kan Rafael

65

83

48

67

Rcsnryey of Yellowstone Park. — A good
summary of the work done by Hayden's
Survey of the Territories during the season
of 1878 is published in the " NaturaHst,"
from which we learn that the personnel of
the Survey was divided into four parties :
one for the extension of the primary tri-
angulation northward, two for topographi-
cal and geological work, and one for pho-
tography and special work in geology. All
the parties left the Union Pacific Railroad
at Point of Rocks and Green River stations
about July 25th, and proceeded northward
toward the Yellowstone National Park. To
the second division was assigned the duty
of making an exhaustive survey of the park
and its surroundings, and to the third the
exploration of the Wind River range and
the Snake River country. The primary tri-

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

837

angulation was extended over about 12,000
square miles. Materials were collected for
a topographical map of the Yellowstone
Park, on the scale of one mile to an inch.
Its geology was studied minutely. A peak
of the Wind Kiver range, named Fremont's
Peak, was found to be over 14,000 feet in
height above the sea; no trace could be
seen of the presence of man on its summit
at any time. Three glaciers were discov-
ered on the east side of the Wind River
Mountains. The object of again surveying
the Yellowstone Park was to bring it under
the system of triangulation, which has been
very successfully employed in Colorado, and
to make the entire work uniform. All the
old hot-spring basins were resurveyed and
mapped, soundings and temperatures of sev-
eral thousand hot springs were made, and
the action of the geysers carefully studied.
Over fifty fine photographic views were ob-
tained of the bowls and other curious or-
namental details of the Hot Springs.

The Personal Equation,— One of the

principal defects of " our primary mathe-
matical instrument," the human mind itself
with its organic apparatus, is very clearly
pointed out by W. Mattieu Williams. This de-
fect makes itself apparent in certain astro-
nomical observations, when the observer has
to note the moment at which a star appears
to touch the wire or wires stretched across
the field of a telescope. The old way of
doing this was to look at a clock as the
star approaches the wire, count the beats
of the clock, and then note at which beat
or fraction of the beat the transit of the
wire occurs. Despite the apparent simpli-
city of this operation there is no human
being whose eye, ear, and internal nervous
apparatus of perception and volition are
sufficiently perfect to perform it accurately.
None of us either sees, hears, or feels in-
stantaneously. The sensation has to be
transmitted from the external organ of
sense to the nervous center, and the re-
sponse has to be transmitted outward.
These operations involve time. Nor is that
all : they require a different length of time
for different persons, different constitutions.
Thus in the same observatory there may be
three assistants. A, B, and C, and they are
tested by making a number of correspond-

ing observations. In every case it will be
found that A is say a quarter of a second
ahead of B, and B half a second ahead of
C. What is to be done ? If all erred
alike — if all observers required just half a
second to collect their sensations of sight
and hearing, and to bring them to bear
upon the same perception, then by setting
the clock half a second ahead of the true
time, the needed correction would be made.
But, failing this, some personal standard of
comparison must be taken, and the observ-
ers' rated to this standard like chronome-
ters. This is done in observatories, and
the result is called the " personal equation "
of the individual observer. And not only
has the personal equation of each observer
to be determined on his entrance upon his
duties, but it demands periodical revision,
for it varies with age and constitutional
conditions.

t'sc of the Balloon in Arctic Explora-
tion.— In a paper read before the London
Aeronautical Society, Mr. Brearey, its secre-
tary, advocated the employment of balloons
in polar exploration. Referrring to the last
English polar expedition, Mr. Brearey said
that, instead of a seventy days' journey to
accomplish about seventy miles, at a fearful
cost of life and suffering, consequent on hav-
ing to drag over ice hummocks sleds con-
taining provisions, the whole of the stores
could have been conveyed over the heads of
the explorers, and the men holding the ropes
of this floating observatory would have
been assisted by the upward tendency of
the balloon. The question is, Would the
daily consumption of stores compensate the
leakage of gas ? and its answer is found in
Beaumont's history of the balloon as em-
ployed in the United States war of the re-
bellion. He writes that " the balloon when
inflated can, unless in very windy weather,
be very readily carried. Twenty-five or
thirty men lay hold of cords attached to
the ring and march along, allowing the ma-
chine to rise only sufficiently to clear any
obstacle." He had frequently seen it car-
ried thus without the least difficulty. As
for the leakage of gas, by the use of proper
varnish it might be so checked that at the
end of a fortnight the balloon could make
an ascent without being replenished. Re-

838

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

marks by various members of the Society
followed the reading of the paper ; they are
briefly stated in the " Monthly Journal of
Science," and are, on the whole, favorable
to Mr. Brearey's views. Mr. Glaisher saw
no reason why the balloon should not be
made available in arctic exploration, and
he hoped that, if there were another expe-
dition, the balloon would be tried and the
question settled. It would certainly, if used
in connection with a sled, enable the ex-
plorers to travel much more rapidly than
they can at present. Touching on the use of
the balloon as an observatory, he said that,
when he was only half a mile over London,
he could see Margate and Brighton. This
showed how much may be seen from a com-
paratively small elevation.

A Blood-sucking Squirrel.— Dr. Richard
E. Kunze gives in "Science News" an en-
tertaining account of a pair (male and fe-
male) of pet gray squirrels, one of which,
the male, he detected in the act of sucking
the other's blood. Having noticed that the
female looked emaciated, and that in mov-
ing about she dragged a hind leg, Dr. Kunze
made an examination, which resulted in the
discovery of a circular hole in this leg direct-
ly over the hamstring muscles, extending
through the entire thickness of the skin.
The edges of this opening, or sore, which was
of the diameter of a lead-pencil, looked
smooth and blanched. Now, it could not be
the result of a puncture or any other wound,
because there was present neither inflam-
mation nor discbarge. It had the appear-
ance of an artificial issue, was sensitive but
not painful. For a time he was puzzled to
account for the hole, but at last he caught
her companion in the act of sucking her
blood. The " vampire " was seen to bury
his snout deeply in the fur m the direction
of the sore. Soon the female squirrel,
which had before been asleep, gave a sharp
cry. " My suspicions," writes Dr. Kunze,
" were soon confirmed, that he was actually
sucking out the very life-substance of his
mate. For several days a number of medi-
cal friends kept a sharp lookout on Foxie's
unnatural conduct. At first we simply
drove him away from his mate whenever he
was intentionally too near the coveted spot.
We now had to beat him off. In propor-

tion as we resorted to such severe measures,
Foxie became more cunning, and with an
Argus-eye would watch his chance to act
unobserved. Finally, he became much
bolder in his onslaughts. He would seize
the leg whenever he could get hold of it. I
have seen him time and again place both
hands on each side of the ' sore,' appar-
ently gently pressing down the edges, just
as a little kitten in nursing would keep up
a pressure on the milk-ducts, and simulta-
neously suck with all his might."

Blindness and its Causes.— According to
the last census returns there were, in the
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ire-
land, 81,159 blind persons, or one in 1,015
of the population. The proportions in dif-
ferent parts of the kingdom vary greatly,
from one in 635 in Cornwall to one in 1,367
in Durham ; the proportion being higher in
agricultural than in urban districts. It is
gratifying to learn that though the actual
number of the blind increases, their propor-
tion to the seeing population diminishes — a
change which is probably due partly to the
improvements in ophthalmic surgery, partly
to the greater attention paid to the laws of
hygiene. But that there is still room for
much improvement in the latter respect is
only too apparent from the imperfect re-
turns of the causes of blindness made by the
directors of a few schools for the blind.
Thus the report of the York School shows
that out of 82 pupils 36 lost their sight
from purulent ophthalmia. And similar re-
sults are observed in countries on the Euro-
pean Continent. For instance, according
to Marjolin, out of 208 pupils in the Paris
Institution for the Blind, 80 became blind
from this disease, and 18 from small-pox; so
that one half lost their sight from preventa-
ble causes. In the institutions of Germany
the loss of sight from purulent ophthalmia
is stated to be about 30 per cent.

The impairment of eyesight by habitual
protracted reading has been made a special
subject of study by M. Javel, a French phy-
sician, who also proposes a method of re-
ducing to a minimum the damage so caused.
In the first place, reading requires an ab-
solutely permanent application of eyesight,
resulting in a permanent tension of the or-
gan. Secondly, books are printed in black

POPULAR MISCELLANY.

839

on a white ground ; the eye is thus in pres-
ence of the most absolute contrast which
can be imagined. The third peculiarity lies
in the arrangement of the characters in
horizontal lines, over which we run our
eyes. If, during reading, we maintain a per-
fect immobility of the book and the head,
the printed lines are applied successively
to the same part of the retina, while the
interspaces, more bright, also affect certain
regions of the retina, always the same : the
result is fatigue. Last and most important
of all, in M. Javel's estimation, is the con-
tinual variation of the distance of the eye
from the book. The accommodation of the
eye to the page undergoes a distinct varia-
tion in proportion as the eye passes from
the beginning to the end of each line ; and
this variation is all the greater in propor-
tion to the nearness of the book to the eye,
and the length of the line. In order to
avoid these injurious effects, M. Javel ad-
vises frequent intermissions during reading.
To reduce the contrast between the white
of the paper and the black of the charac-
ters, M. Javel recommends the adoption of a
slightly yellow tint of paper. His third sug-
gestion is to give preference to small volumes
which can be held in the hand, which ob-
viates the necessity of the book being kept
fixed in one place, and lessens the fatigue
resulting from accidental images. Lastly,
M. Javel advises the avoidance of too long
lines, and therefore he prefers small volumes,
and for the same reason those journals which
are printed in narrow columns. Of course,
every one knows that it is exceedingly inju-
rious to read with insufficient light, or to
use too small print.

An Insect Ragman. — A correspondent of
" Hardwicke's Science Gossip " tells of a very
curious discovery he made last summer at
Bellosguardo near Florence, viz., a veritable
insect ragman. Having noticed what he at
first took to be a little nest of spiders' eggs
blown along a window-sill, he was led to ex-
amine it more closely, and found it to be a
rather untidy, fluffy ball, about the size of a
large pea ; further, that it was moving along
of its own accord, stopping now and then
for a second, and again resuming its journey.
It was soon discovered that the ball of fluff
W.1S borne on the back of a little insect

somewhat resembling the larva of the der-
mesies, and that the mass was composed of
cobweb held on the creature's back by being
twisted about in and out among the long
hairs on the upper surface of the body. The
insect was about one quarter of an inch in
length, and bore on its head a pair of forceps
about the size of those borne by the common
earwig, but its purpose was very different,
" for to my amazement," says the author, " I
noticed that, each time the creature paused,
it was to pick up, with these forceps, some
dead ant or portion of a dead insect ; and
these fragments were picked up so deftly,
and in so droll a way did the creature turn
its head round and carefully arrange his
treasure on his pack, that I was forcibly re-
minded of the chiffonniers in France and
Italy, with their hook and their basket, and
of the ' ole clo' ' and his pack in England. . . .
For more than two days I kept it in a small
glass-lidded box, supplied it with ' ole clo','
and watched it constantly collecting and
packing ; but I never saw it feed, and one
morning I found that a large ant I had sup-
posed to be dead had attacked and eaten
the creature, scattering the fluffy pack and
its contents all over the box." Some weeks
after this the author received a note from
a friend at Vevey, who from the descrip-
tion recognized the " chiffonnier," two of
which, she says, " came toward me, on the
table in the garden where I was seated
reading, collecting and packing as you have
described." From a friend at Bellosguardo
he also, on his return to England, received
an account of one she had found, and of
which she thus writes : " I had half a mind
to send you one of those scavenger or ' ole
clo' ' insects ; but could not arrange any-
thing that would insure its arriving alive.
The pack on his back is much less choice
than the others, consisting of parts of the
bodies of dead flies, spiders' cobwebs, etc.,
while he himself is much smaller. I feel
quite sure it is his food he collects, because
the first night I put him under a tumbler he
ate the wings of his fly, the only ornamental
article in his collection. He is exceedingly
fond of sugar — has eaten, I am sure, twice
his weight — and has just added two small
dead ants to his load, under which he stag-
gers visibly. His pack is held on by long,
projecting hairs, and likewise secured and
strengthened by cobwebs."

840

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

NOTES.

The Royal Astronomical Society of Lon-
don lias awarded a gold medal to Professor
Asaph Hall for " bis discovery and observa-
tions of tbe satellites of Mars."

Heinrich Geissler, inventor of sundry
ingenious physical apparatus — the Geissler
tubes, the vaporimeter, etc. — died January
24th, at Bonn, aged sixty-five years.

Professor J. Lawrence Smith finds
that the native irons of Greenland are mu-
tually similar, and that they differ from the
meteoric irons. He thinks it probable that
the native iron may have been brought up
from below, like the native alloy of plati-
num and iron.

Professor Daniel Wilson, of Toronto,
is of the opinion that in the French Cana-
dians there is a liberal infusion of Indian
blood. Li the neighborhood of Quebec, in
the Ottawa Valley, and to a great extent
about Montreal, there is, he believes, hardly
a family descended from the original set-
tlers who have not some traces of Indian
blood. At Ottawa, where the French-Cana-
dian element is strong, the traces of Indian
blood are discernible in nearly every indi-
vidual belonging to that race.

A DILIGENT observer of the ways of ani-
mals, Mr. Sidney Bustcn, says that dogs
and horses are, as far as he knows, the only
animals sensitive to ridicule, while cats and
birds are wholly unaware that they are be-
ing laughed at. Certainly dogs, and proba-
bly horses, know the difference between be-
ing laughed at in derision, as we laugh at a
fool, and being laughed at in admiration, as
we laugh at a good comic actor — and enjoy
the latter as much as they resent the for-
mer. Some parrots, however, seem to un-
derstand and enjoy the practice of making
fun of their human acquaintances.

In Switzerland, the men conscripted into
the army have to undergo an examination
in reading, writing, arithmetic, history, and
the geography and political Constitution of
Switzerland. At the last examination not
a single unlettered conscript was found in
thirteen cantons, and the proportion of illit-
erates exceeded two per cent, in only three
cantons, viz., Appenzell, Fribourg, and Va-
lais. In these cantons the illiterates did not
exceed four per cent, of the total number of
conscripts.

The London " Lancet " denominates the
movement for the cremation of dead bodies
a "craze," now that steps have been actu-
ally taken to dispose of bodies in that way
in England. It questions whether time will
ever so completely obliterate the "sense of
decency " in the people of England that the

notion of burning the dead will be tolerated.
To the Lancet, the idea of cremation is
" revolting."

In London the seven weeks ending Janu-
ary 18th was a period of very low temper-
ature, and the Registrar-General, in his re-
ports, institutes a comparison between the
mortality of those seven weeks and the
seven weeks immediately preceding them.
The result shows that the average weekly
number of deaths in the cold period ex-
ceeded by 481 the average number in the
period of moderate temperature, the annual
rates of mortality being equal to 26"8 and
19-8 per 1,000 respectively. Among per-
sons under twenty years of age the increased
mortality due to cold did not exceed 2"8 per
1,000 living, and the excess between twenty
and forty was only 1'3 per 1,000. Between
forty and sixty years the excess was 8'7 per
1,000, between sixty and eighty it was 544,
and among persons over eighty years of age
the excess was equal to 173'0 per 1,000 per
year.

A correspondent of the Hiogo (Japan)
" News " writes to that journal that the sect
of the Klshi Ilonffanzi are erecting several
large buildings in the foreign styles near
their temples, to be used for school pur-
poses. In addition to the usual Japanese
course, English will be taught. The school
is intended for educating priests of the sect
named, and a select few, when their educa-
tion is finished, will be sent as apostles and
evangelists to Europe and America, to win
to the true faith the inhabitants of those
benighted regions.

Pteratomds Putnamii, or " Putnam's
winged atom," is the very appropriate name
given by Professor Packard to a creature
first described by him, and which is proba-
bly the smallest of all known insects. An
individual of this species was captured last
summer by Mr. J. D. Cox, who gives a full
description of it in the "American Natu-
ralist." Its body is twelve thousandths of
an inch in length, the antennae twenty thou-
sandths. It is probably an egg-parasite of
the leaf-cutter bee.

A NEW invention of great interest is an-
nounced in "Nature," viz., a real telegraph,
an instrument with the aid of which one lit-
erally writes at a distance. A writer, say at
London, moves his pen, and simultaneously
at some other point, Brighton for instance,
another pen is moved in precisely the same
curves and motions. The inventor is E. A.
Cowper.

An International Exhibition, or World's
Fair, will be held next August in Sydney,
Australia. This announcement is in itself
an evidence of the marvelous development
of wealth, industry, and refinement among
the antipodes.

I]^ D EX.

PAGE

Aard-Vaek, or Earth-Hog. (Illustrated.) 572

Advantages of Oral Teaching 690

Afghanistan 252

African Elephant, its Proposed Domestication 551

Agassiz's Zoological Laboratory 834

Agricultural School, A French 253

Alcohol, Effects of, on Character 379

Allen, G., "Why do we eat our Dinner ? 799

America, The Peopling of ^^

American Hairy Tortoise 530

Ancient Hygiene 549

Animal Intelligence 214

Animals and Plants, Differences between 30

Antiquity of the Practice of Inoculation 695

Ant Community, History of an 248

Ants, Battle-Eoyal among 121

Ants' Nest. . . /. 693

Are the Elements elementary ? 407

Artificial Diamonds 687

Astronomical Magnitudes and Distances 291

Atheism and the. Church 621

Atmospheric Electricity and Plant-Growth 247

Backgammon among the Aztecs ' 491

Bain, A., Education as a Science 55, 152

Bain, A., John S. Mill 697

Balloons, Use of, in Arctic Exploration 837

Battle-Royal among Ants • • 121

Beard, G. M., Experiments with Living Human Beings Gil, 751

Beaver, Sagacity of the 123

Beginning of Nerves in the Animal Kingdom. (Illustrated.) 303

Belt, Thomas, Death of 255

Bidder, George, the Calculating Boy 835

Biology and " Woman's Eights " 201

Black Diamonds 337

Blindness and its Causes 838

Blood-sucking Squirrel 838

VOL. XIV. — 54

842 INDEX.

Books noticed : page

• Scientific Memoirs " (Draper) 113

Handbook of Chemistry " (Tidy) ; 115

Sound " (Mayer) 115

Free Eeligious Association " 116

Photometric Eesearches " (Peirce) 116

In the Wilderness " (Warner) 116

• Metric Weights and Measures " 116

Sound and the Telephone " (Blake) 116

American College Directory " 116

New York Meteorological Observatory " 117

American Indians " (MaUery) 117

Lewis Brooks's Museum " 117

Deep-Sea Soundings " (Jewell) 117

AU around the House " (Beecher) 239

Fish and Fisheries " 240

■ Life of George Combe " (Gibbon) 240

Deterioration and Race Education " (Eoyce) ' 241

Superstition in all Ages " (Meslier) 241

American Antiquarian " 242

Parks and Gardens of Paris " (Robinson) 243

Tribes of California " (Powers) 244

American Colleges " (Thwing) 244

Dictionary of Music and Musicians " 244

The Bible of To-day " (Chadwick) 396

Stock-Breeding " (Miles) 398

Ontological Science " (Day) 399

Life in other Worlds " (Miller) 399

Filtration of Water " (Nichols) 399

Old House altered " (Mason) 400

Goethe's Faust " 400

Practical Chemistry " (Muir) , 400

The Blessed Bees" (AUen) 400

Proportions of the Steam-Engine " (Marks) 400

Flower-Painting " (Duffield) 400

The Railway " (Sterne) 401

Golden Songs of Great Poets " 401

Geology of Wisconsin " 401

United States Entomological Commission " 401

Color-Blindness " (Jeffries) 402

Geometrical Drawing " (Vose) 402

The Commonwealth reconstructed " (Clark) 535

Early History of Mankind " (Tylor) 536

Introductory Chemical Practice " 537

Elementary Chemistry " (Roscoe) 538

Christ's Words " (Turner) 538

American Quarterly Microscopical Journal " 539

Science News " 540

Report of Johns Hopkins University " 540

Ancient Cemetery of Chacota Bay " 540

Telegraph in America " (Reid) 541

INDEX. 843

Books noticed : ^age

" Walks in London " (Hare) 542

" Science Observer " 542

" Survey of the Lakes " 542

" Survey of Minnesota " 542

" Minerals, etc., of the Pacific Coast " 542

•' The Indian Question " (Pope) 542

"Origin, Progress, and Destiny of the English Language " (Weisse).. 678

" Law of Property in Intellectual Productions " (Drone) 679

" Ferns in their Homes and Ours " (Robinson) 680

" Sanitary Examinations of Water, etc." (Fox) 681

" General Vaccination " (Harris) 682

" Constituents of Climate " (Lente) 682

" Democracy in Europe " (May) 682

" Native Flowers and Ferns " (Meehan) 683

" Races of European Turkey " (Clark) 683

*' Smithsonian Report " 683

" United States Geological Survey " 683

" Economic Monographs " 684

" Strength of Materials " (Kent) 684

" Zoology of the Vertebrate Animals " (Macalister) 684

" Total Abstinence " (Richardson) 684

" Journal of a Tour in Marocco " (Hooker and Ball) 821

" Education as a Science " (Bain) 822

" Demonology and Devil-Lore " (Conway) 824

" Paradoxical Philosophy " 825

" How to he plump " (Duncan) 825

" What is the Bible? " (Sunderland) 826

" How to parse " (Abbott) 826

" Agricultural Ant of Texas " (McCook) 826

" House Air " (Donaldson) 826^

" Wanderings in South America " (Waterton) 827

" American Journal of Otology " 828

" Industrial Education " (Hogg) 828

" Air and Moisture on Shipboard " (Turner) 829

" Genealogy of Plants " (Ward) 829

" Notes on Cladocera " (Birge) 829

" The Air we breathe " 829

" The Soul and the Resurrection " (Kellogg) 829

" Jurassic Dinosaurs " ( Marsh) 829

" Principles of Breeding " (Brewer) 829

" Aphididae of the United States " (Riley and Monell) '829

" Art Anatomy " (Howe) ... 829

Brain-bulk, its relation to Intelligence 551

Brooks, W. K., Animals and Plants 30

Brunton, T. Lauder, Reflex Action and Disease 639

California Climate, and Consumption 836

Candle-Fish 546

Carhart, H. S., Astronomical Magnitudes and Distances 291

Carnivorous Caterpillars 121

844 INDEX.

PAGB

Causes of Ocean-Currents 686

Ceremonial Government. \' ;I lY

Chemical Elements 600

Childhood, The First Three Years of 591

Civilization and Teeth 689

Coal-Gas Combustion, Products of 541^-

Coffee-Houses and Kum-Shops 1Q3

College Education 248

Colors, Contrast of. (Illustrated.) \

Commercial Products of New Caledonia 834

Conscience, is it primitive ? 647

Copyright Commission, The English. 296

Copyright and Morality 53O

Corona, the Sun's, Light of. . . . 495

Cotton-Worm 4O6

Crystallization of Gold, Silver, etc. (Illustrated.) 434

Cultivating Disease 250

Ourari ggg

Curteis, G, H., Atheism and the Churcli ..... 621

Curtiss, L. E., Molecular Dynamics 375

Damon, W. E., The Devil-Fish and its Pielatives. . . 345

Dangers of Moldy Bread 545

Darwin m. Galiani 4Q9

Davy, Sir H., Sketch of. (Portrait.) 813

Deep-Sea Soundings II9

Destruction of American Forests 550

Devil-Fish, The, and its Relatives. ^Illustrated.) 345

Diamonds, Artificial 687

Dietetic Curiosities 721

Differences between Animals and Plants 30

Discovery of a Few Salt-Deposit 124

Disease, Cultivating ' 250

Distribution of Spiders 124

Domestic Economy, Improved 395

Drinking-Water from Agricultural Lands 44

Du Bois-Reymond, E., Darwin th. Galiani 409

Early Traces of Man 794

Eastern Fish-Story 406

Easy-Chairs, The Science of 186

Economic Statistics of the World 691

Edison's Inventions. (Illustrated.) 130

Education as a Science 55, 152

Education, College 248

Education, Rational, Progress of Ill

Effects of Alcohol on Character 379

Ehrenberg, Christian Gottfried, Sketch of. (Portrait.) 668

Electric Illumination 234

Electric Light, Werdermann's 545

INDEX. • 845

PAGE

Electric Light 553

Electric Light as a Source of Nitric Acid 692

Electricity,. Atmospheric, and Plant-Growth 247

Elements, are they elementary ? 407

Elephant, the African, its Proposed Domestication 551

English, its Place in the Higher Education 81

English Eule, Effects of, in India 404

Entomology, Important Discovery in 836

Experiments in Sound. (Illustrated.) 65

Experiments with Living Human Beings 611, 751

Explosions from Combustible Dust. (Illustrated.) 159

Fever-Factories 143

Fiords of Glacial Origin on Long Island 831

Fires and their Causes 653

First Three Years of Childhood 591

Fish-Story, An Eastern 406

Flammarion, C, Intra-Mercurial Planets 714

Forests, Destruction of 550

Formation of Mountains. (Illustrated.) 460

Fothergill, J. M., Alcohol 379

French Agricultural Schools 253

Friendships of Animals 182

Galileo, What Medicine owes to 403

Galton, F., Psychometric Facts 771

Gas-Stoves and the Products of Combustion 692

Gelatine as a Food-Preserver ' 251

Germany, Restrictive Tendencies in 676

Girard, M., Curari 369

Grataeap, L. P., Ice Age 90

Grave-Digger Beetle 126

Gray, Elisha, Sketch of. (Portrait.) 523

Gregan, T. J., Crystallization of Gold, etc 434

Growth of Mining Engineering in the United States 403

Growth of Mushrooms 125

Gutta-Percha, Substitute for 126

Hair, Pigments of the 694

Hairy Water-Tortoise 245

Health and Recreation 780

Heredity 356

History of an Ant Community .' 248

History of Map-making 830

Honey-Bee, its Sting. (Illustrated.) 635

How to keep cool 549

Huxley, Professor, before the English Copyright Commission 166

Huxley on the Hand 544

Hygiene, Ancient 549

Ice Age, The 90

846 INDEX.

Igneous Eocks, Organic Matter in. 688

lies, G., Heredity 356

Important Discovery in Entomology , , 836

Improved Domestic Economy 395

In an Ants' Nest 693

India, English Kule in 404

Inoculation, Antiquity of. 695

Insect Eagman 839

Insects and Colored Flowers 529

Intra- Mercurial Planets. (Illustrated.) 714

Investigating the Cotton-Worm 406

Iron, Protection of, from Eust 687

Japan, An Early Eace in. (Illustrated.) 257

Japan, Science Lectures in 388

Japanese Fermented Liquors 252

Judson, J. A., Drinking- Water 44

Kneeland, S., The Monstrous in Art 731

Kuntze, 0., The Peopling of America 78

Language and the Emotions 190

Lardner, Dr., and Ocean Steam-Navigation 529, 673

Leaves, Physical Functions of. (Illustrated.) 365

Le Conte, J., Sociology and Biology -. . 325, 425

Lee, H., Singing Mice 102

Leland, E. E., Mites, Ticks, and other Acari 502

Lingual Study, An Historian's Notion of 819

Lockyer on the Chemical Elements 533, 600

Making Sound Vibrations visible 834

Malaria, Vehicles of 544

Mammoth, The Arctic, when it came 794

Man, Early Traces of 794

Manufacture of Sea-Salt at San Francisco 247

Map-making, History of 830

Maury, M. F., Black Diamonds 337

Medicine, what it owes to Galileo 403

Mercurial Deposit on Animal Teeth 125

Metric System, shall we adopt it ? 757

Microphone, The, does it magnify Sound ? 233

Mill, J. S • 697

Mineral White, A New 126

Mining Engineering in the United States 408

Mites, Ticks, and other Acari. (Illustrated.) . . 502

Molecular Dynamics 375

Monstrous, The, in Art 731

More Eoom for the Sciences 674

Morse, E. S., An Early Eace in Japan 257

Mortillet, G. de. Early Traces of Man 794

INDEX. 847

PAGE

Mounds, Curious, in California 233

Mountains, Formation of. (Illustrated.) 460

Movement of Water in the Suez Canal 550

Movements of Plants 250

Mummy, Studies of a 404

Mushrooms, Growth of 125

Musk-Bison 122

Mutilations and Heredity 233

Natural Selection 121

Nerves, The Beginning of, in the Animal Kingdom. (Illustrated.) 303

New Caledonia, Commercial Products of 834

New Form of Stereoscope 120

New Guinea and its Inhabitants 742

New Plant 690

Notes 127, 255, 407, 552, 695, 540, 840

Noxious Vapors and Health 254

Ocean-Currents 686

Old Phrenology, The, and the New. (Illustrated.) 475

Oleomargarine 249

Organic Matter in Igneous Eocks 688

Origin of Upland Lakes 810

Oswald, F. L., Dietetic Curiosities 721

Oswald, F. L., Fever-Factories 143

Our Parks 405

Oustalet, E., Aard-Vark 572

Oxygen, Effects of 118

Pain, " Uses "of 124

Parasites in Pork . 551

Pearls and their Origin 693

Peck, L. W., Explosions from Combustible Dust 159

Penguin, The, how it rears its Young 547

Persian Hair-Dye 249

Personal Equation 837

Peruvian Antiquities 835

Petermann, Dr., Sketch of. (Portrait.) 231

Phelps, J. W., The Radiometer 76

Phrenology, The Old and the New. (Illustrated.) 475

Physical Functions of Leaves. (Illustrated.) 365

Pigments of the Hair 694

Planetary Rings and New Stars 466

Plant, A New 690

Plant Respiration 403

Plants, Movements of 250

Plants and Atmospheric Humidity 668

Plants and the Peopling of America 78

Pope and Anti-Pope 320

Population-Density and Death-Rate 686

848 , INDEX.

PAGE

Prescott, G. B., Edison's Inventions 130

Printing and tlie Perpetuity of Civilizations 685

Products of Coal-Gas Combustion 547

Progress of Eational Education Ill

Protection and Socialism 389

Psychometric Facts 771

Pure Teas 247

Eadiometer, The 76

Eainfall and Sun-Spots 831

Eecreation, Health and 780

Eeflex Action and Disease 639

Eelation, Scientific, of Sociology to Biology 325, 425

Eeligious Eecognition of N"ature. , . . 392

Eeorganization of the Government Surveys 543

Eestrictive Tendencies in Germany 676

Eesurvey of the Yellowstone Park 836

Eetentive Memories 690

Eichardson, B. W., Health and Eecreation. ' 780

Eobin, Value of the, to the Agriculturist 251

Eomanes, G. J., Animal Intelligence , . . 214

Eomanes, G. J., Beginning of Nerves 303

Eood, 0. N., Contrast of Colors 1

Sagacity of the Beaver 123

Salt-Deposit, New, in New York 124

Schmidt, O., Science and Socialism 577

Science and Socialism 577

Science in Eelation to War 817

Science Lectures in Japan 388

Science of Easy-Chairs 186

Sciences, More Eoom for 674

Scientific Instruction, Elementary, in Germany 107

Scientific Eelation of Sociology to Biology 325, 425

Sea-Salt, Manufacture of, at San Francisco 247

Shall we adopt the Metric System ? 757

Shingle-Nails swallowed by Cattle 692

Silk-worm Moths, how they escape from the Cocoon 122

Singing Mice 102, 673

Snake, A Useful 123

Sociology, its Scientific Eelation to Biology 325, 425

Sound, Experiments in. (Illustrated.) 65

Sound, Professor Tyndall on 832

Sound- Vibrations made visible 834

South American Fossils, Interesting Collection of 687

Spencer, H., Ceremonial Government 17

Spencer, Herbert, before the English Copyright Commission 296, 440

Spider Architecture 246

Spiders, Distribution of 124

Spottiswoode, "William, Sketch of. (Portrait.) 105

INDEX. 849

PAOK

Squirrel, A Blood-sucking 838

Stark, A. B., English in Higher Education 81

Statistics, Economic, of the World ^ 691

Steering of Ocean-Steamers 545

Stereoscope, New Form of. 120

Sting of tlie Honey-Bee. (Illustrated.) 635

Storage and Purification of Water 546

Strange Animal-Friendships 182

Studies of a Mummy 404

Substitute for Gutta-Percha 126

Suez Canal, Movement of Water in 550

Sun's Corona, Light of the 405

Sun's Long Streamers, The , 659

Sun-Spots, Rainfall and 831

Surgical Operation, A Unique. 548

Teaching, Oral, its Advantages 690

Teas, Pure 247

Teeth, Civilization and. ..." .. 689

Thomson, Sir W., on Deep-Sea Soundings 119

Titles. 17

Torpedo Transport 118

Traces of an Early Race in Japan, (Illustrated.) 257

Tylor, E. B., Backgammon among the Aztecs 491

Tyndall, J., Virchow and Evolution 266

Tyndall, J., The Electric Light 553

Tyndall on Sound 832

Tyndall, Professor, before the English Copyright Commission 39

Typhoid-Fever Poison 514

Unique Surgical Operation 548

Upland Lakes, Origin of. 810

Useful Snake 123

"Uses" of Pain 124

Vanderhilt University again 237

Van de Warker, E., Typlioid-Fever Poison 514

Vaughan, D., Planetary Rings and Xew Stars 466

Vehicles of Malaria 544

Vertebral Articulations in Birds 832

Virchow and Evolution 266

Vogt, C, Pope and Anti-Pone 320

Waldstein, C, Language and the Emotions 190

Wallace's Theory of Zoological Derivation 694

Wallace, A. R., New Guinea 742

Wallis, Gustav, Sketch of. (Portrait.) 386

Ward, J. C, Origin of Upland Lakes 810

Water, Drinking, from Agricultural Lands 44

Werdermann Electric Light 545

850 • INDEX.

PAGE

Why do we eat our Dinner ? 799

Wilkinson, W., Is Conscience primitive ? 647

Wilson, A., The Old Phrenology and the New 475

Winchell on College Education 248

" Woman's Eights," Biology and ... ■. 201

Women and the Study of Science 119

Woorara-Poison ^69

Wyandotte Cave, Kecent Exploration of 833

Yellow Fever 388

Yellowstone Park, Kesurvey of. 836

END OF VOL. XIV.

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